Bound Together (Torn and Bound Duet 2)

“Ashton.”

I clench my jaw, hating how my stomach is flipping like it’s in a barrel tumbling down a hill. “What, my beautiful girlfriend?”

She rolls her pretty brown eyes. “That.”

“What?”

“All this”—she waves at me and the steakhouse—“isn’t you.”

I scowl. “Neither is dating a woman, but we’re here, Mia, and I’m just blindly navigating this unknown territory.”

Her palms slide up my chest, calming the storm of emotions brewing inside of me. She stands on her toes and kisses my lips. “Can we go to the pizza place with the arcade? It’s right across the street. Please?”

I love that place.

Slowly, I nod, because I’ll give her whatever the hell she wants. “Yeah, MiMi. Whatever you want.”

Her fingers thread into my hair and she pulls me down to her lips. “I want you to be yourself. Just be you, Ashton. Fancy steakhouses aren’t you. Can you do that?”

This fucking girl.

“Yeah, brat, I can do that. Let’s go.”

We walk hand in hand across the street, the anxious weight lifting with each step we take. Once inside of the pizza parlor, the scent of garlic and melted cheese chases away any lingering doubt.

It’s just Mia and me.

This is natural for us.

I guide her over to a booth near the arcades and slide in next to her. It feels good to put my arm around her as we share a menu. I thought maybe it’d be weird dating a girl in public, but I find it easy because it’s Mia.

The server comes by and we order a pizza half with that nasty pineapple shit on her side and something more fucking human on the other side. While we wait, we head over to the games. I put a twenty into the machine and get us a bunch of quarters.

“What do you want to play?” I ask, nodding at the ancient machines that have been around since the ’80s.

“Pac-Man.” She bounces over to it and sits in one of the chairs. “See if you can beat me, boyfriend.”

I laugh as I sit opposite of her. “Gotta warn you, MiMi. I’m going to whip your ass at this game just like always. Your girlfriend card has been revoked for the duration of this game.”

“What if I show you my boobs?” she taunts, her brown eyes wickedly gleaming.

“We could negotiate then,” I say with a smirk.

I put in some quarters and we begin a heated match. She yells at me and I laugh, but ultimately, I destroy her in Pac-Man. Every time she gets mad, she throws a quarter at me. A kid, maybe seven or eight, lingers nearby, snagging up all the abandoned coins.

“You’re such a cheater,” she whines. “You probably came out of the womb playing this game.”

“Nah, I was like five when I begged my mom for the arcade game in my room.”

She shakes her head. “You’re so damn spoiled, Ashton Carter.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Her eyes roll and she stands up. “Since you’re a big winner, win me something from the claw machine.”

I let her pull me up from the machine and guide me over to the one filled with stuffed animals. I shove a few quarters in.

“Which one do you want?” I ask, analyzing which toys are easiest to snag.

She stands on her toes and points at a dolphin. “That one.”

Easy.

I maneuver the claw over to the dolphin and mash the button to send it down to grab it. Luckily, it scoops up the dolphin and deposits it into the bin.

She squeals and pulls it out. “Look. A dolphin. Like you.” She hugs it. “I love it.”

I throw in some more quarters, my eyes set on the Mario in the corner. It’ll be tricky since it’s buried under some others. I’ll just win those too. I fish out the two in my way, focused on my prize. She gleefully collects each one. Finally, I nab the Mario and drop him into the bin. I pull it out and waggle it in front of her.

“Look, it’s you.” I smirk at her. “Mario girl.”

“I don’t have a mustache,” she deadpans, “but I’ll take it. And these can be Brayden and Drew.” She holds up the two matching hawks holding hockey sticks.

“The dolphin’s the cutest,” I tease, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Am I right?”

She playfully sighs. “Yeah, he is.”

I kiss her deeply and then pull away, taking a moment to appreciate the fact I got the fucking girl. Mine. She’s mine. Finally.“Why do you hate your parents?” Mia asks after I pay the bill and we’re walking out to the car.

I cringe at her question. “I don’t hate them. They hate me. Well, Dad does. Mom just thinks I’m her dancing monkey.”

She’s quiet as we approach my Audi. It’s not until we’re inside and driving off that she speaks up again. “I don’t see it. Curtis wants to be in your life so bad and Wendy is funny. They love you. Today, at your meet, they were proud.”