Posting a snippet from my original fiction WIP to try to motivate me to write more on it...
Genre: Modern workplace romance, this snippet is just first date fluff
Snippet length: 1k
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Clunk.
“Fuck!” I groaned as my ball bounced off a cement wedge on the indoor mini golf green. “That didn’t count!” I whirled around to glare at Brennan who was stifling a giggle. “Shut up! It didn’t count!”
“Oh, it absolutely counted,” he chuckled. “Just because you’re bad at the game doesn’t mean you get to rewrite the rules.”
“Ugh. You suck,” I grimaced, standing off to the side so he could take his turn. “You brought me to mini golf specifically so you could kick my ass.”
“Maybe.” He winked at me over his shoulder, bending over a bit to line up his shot. “Maybe you just need to get good.” As he turned his attention back to the game, my eyes drifted down to take in the scenery.
Damn, he has a nice ass.
The idea of slapping him on the butt flickered through my mind. I tightened my grip on my putter in case my impulsive thoughts got the better of me. I felt my face grow hot and hoped that he wouldn’t be able to see it under the blacklight.
Clunk.
“God damn it!” Brennan’s golf ball shot backwards across the green, clacking into mine. “Rigged! This hole is fucking rigged!”
“Oh, it wasn’t rigged a second ago when you called me bad at the game.” I snapped back to attention. “Also, thanks for hitting me further away from the hole, you dick!"
“Okay, okay, okay. Hear me out.” Brennan lifted his hand to his mouth, eyes wide as he grasped for a solution. “That one didn’t count.”
“Are you kidding me?” I shouted through a laugh.
“No, because you were distracting me! It doesn’t count!”
“I was distracting you? I was minding my own business.”
“You were distracting me! How am I supposed to putt when there’s a total hottie just lingering in my peripheral vision?”
Hottie?
My heart pounded against my ribcage and rang in my ears. Then, it suddenly surged with a particular brand of confidence that I hadn’t felt in a long while. I leaned into it.
“Yeah, well, maybe if you actually focused on your stroke, you wouldn’t be getting distracted by me literally just standing here.” I took a couple steps towards Brennan, my face inches away from his, and raised my eyebrows. “Get good.”
I saw his eyes widen a bit and he visibly gulped.
Shoe’s on the other foot now, Brennan.
“Pretty big-” he broke off, voice cracking. He cleared his throat before backing up, breaking eye contact by fishing the scorecard out of his pocket. “Pretty big talk for someone who is currently six above par. Your move, hottie.”
I stepped onto the green and lined up my shot. I became aware of Brennan’s eyes on me.
Only fair. I was ogling him on his turn. Let’s give him something to look at.
I leaned a little further down into my putt, pushing my hips back towards him just a smidge more.
“Well, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” Brennan jeered. “Nobody putts with their ass sticking out like that.”
“I’m sorry, are you complaining?” I wiggled my hips a bit, sticking my tongue out at him over my shoulder.
“Y’know what? You’re right. Shutting up.” He gave me a wide grin and leaned back against the wall, sliding the scorecard back in his pocket and folding his arms against his chest.
I rolled my eyes before turning my attention back to my ball. I lined up my shot, glancing back and forth from my ball to the hole. I took a couple practice swings.
“Any day now, Ash,” Brennan called out.
“I thought you said you were shutting up,” I shot back. I re-centered myself and took a deep breath before putting the ball. It rolled right through the gap in the cement boundaries, bounced off a barrel, and slid smoothly into the hole. “And that is how it’s done!” I held my putter over my head victoriously.
“What the hell?” Brennan shouted. “How did you do that?”
“All in the hips,” I shrugged, shaking my butt.
“Well, fuck me,” he sighed. He marched over to his ball, lined up his putter, and suddenly squatted so his ass was sticking out in a very exaggerated way. His elbows were jutting out at odd angles and he had tucked his chin into his neck. I burst out laughing so hard I had to support myself on the wall so I didn’t keel over. “What? I’m not above learning a new strategy if it works.” He awkwardly smacked at his ball, which sailed through the cement blocks, clunked against the barrel, and rolled backwards a little. He straightened up, his brow knotted with faux confusion. “Hm,” he said simply. “Must only work for truly exemplary butts like yours.”
He winked and walked over to his ball, giving it another tap to send it into the hole. He pulled the scorecard out from his pocket again and retrieved the tiny pencil he’d stashed behind his ear.
“So that’s four for you and five for me, I think. Hey, look at you! You got par on this one. I’m going to have to start a house rule that you can’t use your ass against me. It’s too powerful.” He smirked and fished both our balls out of the hole, handing me mine. As I took my ball from him, he wrapped his fingers around my hand and pulled me a little closer, murmuring in my ear. “You’re still six above par for the whole game, though.”