How Love Is Not A Game

How do you get someone who doesn’t want to play?

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The sounds of the bowling lane reverberated throughout the building. She sat down to tie her shoes and kept her eyes down. He would be coming anytime; they always seemed to be on the same lane or near each other when they played the cheap bowling hour.

She heard his footsteps approaching. Heavy footed a sure stride that spoke of confidence. He had a lightness to his step like he didn’t have a care in the world. Kira looked up from her bent down position. His brown eyes stared blatantly into hers.

He was tall, dark, and handsome, like all the romance stories she refused to read. She hated reading them because they were never realistic to her. The beard covering his face was well-managed and delicious touch to the sharpness of his chin. He had a gentle, kind look that spoke so much. It talked of kindness to him that radiated off his body. A small smirk was forming at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you smiling about?” Kira asked.

The question came out sharper than she wanted.

“I detect an accent… New York? This is the first time you’ve talked to me.”

“Chicago. Midwestern. And yeah, I wanted to see what was so funny.”