Fraternity

Chapter Fourteen

"No. Not since I was a child," it was quite sad when you think about it. He'd never enjoyed much of his adult life because he threw himself into work at such a young age. But I suppose that's some people's pleasure. That's as much as they want to get out of life. Not me though, I want to travel, let my hair loose now and again.

"Fair enough. Do you ever watch TV? I'm enjoying the crown at the moment," I wanted to take advantage of his talkative nature. I didn't know how long the drive would be and I wanted to get to know the mysterious man beside me.

"Sometimes, I watch football mostly," I assumed he was talking about soccer and I was quite happy to hear that we had something in common.

"Who do you support," it was a make-or-break question. I'm a loyal fan of the sport, I couldn't be with a man that supported Chelsea or Liverpool.

"Manchester United," I was glad the words of my beloved club came out of his mouth. It wasn't uncommon, most Americans are Real Madrid, PSG, or Manchester United fans. They're all massive clubs with a huge number of supporters.

"Same as I. Guess our taste isn't so different," I chuckle with a sparkle of amusement in my eyes. A smirk graced his lips and it was nice to know the conversation entertained him, even if it was only for a brief moment.

My eye catches the sign as we drive past, bowling. "You know I've never been before," I say and Slater shoots me a quizzical look. "Bowling, I've never been." I can see his demeanour change. A small flash of shock crosses his face but he remains silent, he flashes his indictor and we pull into the junction and then to the car park of a shopping centre. A few restaurants stand around the car park, a cinema, and then the bowling alley. He pulls into a free space and gets out of the car. I remain seated, unsure why we've stopped. I can only see his lower half through his open door, he stretches his body, a small bit of skin above his pants showing, and I can't help but enjoy what I'm seeing.

"Come then," he calls, as he slams the door shut and starts walking towards the bowling alley. Wait, he's taking me bowling? I rush out of the car, not wanting to be left behind. Slater locks the car as he hears my car door close and I jog so I'm walking beside him again. He glances at me, a small smirk gracing his lips and I can't help but feel warm inside.

We walk into the bowling alley, a slight rubbery smell in the air and the clashing of pins sound through the air. Slater walks to the desk, the blonde in front of us has a warm smile on her face as she greats us, her blue and black bowling uniform glaringly obvious as the the stitched logo glistens the name of the institution.

"Bowling lane for two," Slater says, pulling out his wallet to pay. I feel slightly embarrassed having him pay for me, but he's in a good mood and I don't want to argue with him and spoil the good atmosphere. He pays on his card and the lady asks for our shoe sizes.

"Um, size 9," I mutter.

"13," Slater tells her, you know what they say about big shoes...believe me, in his case, very accurate.

We take off our shoes and swap them out for the bowling ones. We walk over to the lane, there's a booth with a table at the start of the lane. Balls are sitting in a hub and the pins are waiting to be knocked down. "You wanting food?" Slater asks me as he sits in the booth, his eyes skimming the menu for the options.

"Um sure, I could do with something to eat. Do they do chicken burgers?" Slater nods in response. "I'll have one of those with some fries please," I tell him. He orders it through the app whilst I walk over to the hub of bowling balls. I pick one up and immediately put it back down. That's way too heavy. I feel Slater come up behind me, his presence looming over me as he takes the same ball I'd just picked up and takes it with ease. Show off.

He'd put our names into the system. His name is first so positions himself at the start of the lane with the bowling ball curled into his chest. He swings back his arm then rolls it forward, releasing it from his grip. A perfect strike. Fuck. He has a cocky smirk on his lips as he stands to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. So that's why he's brought me here? To show off how good he is. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

I take a lighter ball, one a bit more manageable, pushing my fingers into the holes and wrapping it around my fingers in a tight grip. I hear Slater laugh from behind me and I can't help the way it makes me tingle. "What the fuck are you doing," he chuckles, his features are relaxed, a slight smile on his lips, and amusement sparkles in his eyes. I've never seen him look anything but annoyed or angry. It was a change I wanted to see more of, unpick the layers of the man before me. He strides over to me and takes the ball from my hand with ease. He places his middle fingers and ring finger into the two top holes whilst his thumb goes into the slightly bigger one at the bottom.

"You don't use your index and middle finger, you pleb," he shakes his head in amusement and passes the ball back to me.

"Alright, fucking bowling expert over here. I told you I've never bowled before," I scowl at him, a faint blush appears across my cheeks from the embarrassment but he only looks at me, that same amusement dancing in his gaze.

I adjust the ball, placing it in my grip, correctly this time, and take my stand near the line. I swing my arm back and throw the ball forward, it flies in the air, slams into the lane with a loud bang, before slowly drifting into the gutter. I hear Slater before I see him, a belting laugh coming from behind me, and my brow furrows. Turning back I see a wide grin on his face as he laughs at my failure. God he's handsome. Probably one of the best-looking men I've ever seen. When he relaxes, his personality shines through and I just want to see more.

"You're meant to bowl the ball, not throw it," he laughs, his body gliding past me as he goes to pick up another ball. He does the same thing, curls the ball to his chest, swings it back then forward, and again does a perfect strike. He walks back, that cocky grin on his face once more and I huff as I walk past him.

I take the ball the way he showed me, pull it back, then forward, and let it go at just the right spot. As it rolls down the lane I can help feel excited...it collides with two pins and look back and grin at Slater. "Stop looking at me like you hit a seven-ten split," he laughs. It was a poor attempt, but by my standards, two pins were better than none. I took my second attempt, managing to hit only one other pin, which I was pretty chuffed at. A server came round with our food and I was grateful as the low ache in my stomach had started to bother me.

"Thank you for paying," I say, our eyes briefly met as he nods his head in acknowledgement. As Slater took a bite of his hotdog, a small amount of ketchup pooled at the edge of his mouth and I had to resist the urge to wipe it. For some reason I knew he wouldn't like me showing that kind of affection in public, he was a private man, he didn't like to show his feelings, never mind show public displays of affection. I pointed it out, handing him a napkin and he wiped it away before continuing with his meal.

For the next hour, we finished our food and continued bowling. I was terrible, Slater beat me every time but it was enjoyable. It was nice to see him more relaxed, happier even. It was obvious he wasn't the type to take his hair down and have a bit of fun. It seemed like the last time he had done anything like this was when was a child. It was nice to know he'd shared the moment with me.

We made our way back to the car, a pleasant feeling drifted between us and it felt like, even if it was for those few hours, that Slater Devor didn't quite mind having me in his company.