Date The CEO.com

Chapter 115: The Basics of Flir—Bowling

"Maybe not with your mouth but definitely with your eyes."

Jackson blurted out a laugh. He had never heard a truer statement lately. It was a trait his son inherited from him, making it more hilarious. "I like this girl. Where have you been hiding from our lives?"

Eve smiled. She was half-glad and half-relieved that her jokes worked. Her nose caught a whiff of alcohol and linked it to his current behavior. It surely showed her a new side of him. 

"Have you ever checked under a desk?" She joked, keeping the mood up.josei

Jackson laughed louder than he did seconds ago. His finger shook at her as if she was a kid that had done something bad. But, his eyes and smile were warm. "Definitely one in a million."

"Why thank you."

Ambryan approached Eve from behind. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stirred her towards the bowling lanes. "Let's go practice. Loser buys dinner around here despite how parents are responsible for feeding their children."

"Oh, please." Avery scoffed, rolling her eyes. "When it comes to food, you stopped listening to us ages ago. The only thing we still bind you by is how you should eat whatever food is on the table at our house."

Eve halted in her steps. Her head snapped to the side and her eyebrows rose up. She blinked, feigning confusion. The hands on her shoulders nudged her forward but she stayed in place. 

"Why? Does he do that a lot?"

The madam resisted the urge to smirk. She saw right through the act. Her violet eyes flickered towards her son. Lifting a hand, she covered her mouth partially. "Yes. He hates tomatoes for one."

"What? How can you hate tomatoes?!" Eve demanded, breaking free from his hold. Utter disbelief cloaked her face. "What does that mean? No pizza, no spaghetti, no ratatouille?"

Ambryan's left eyebrow twitched. The corner of his mouth also did the same. He heaved a sigh and answered her question, "Ratatouille has sliced tomatoes. I can easily set them aside."

Eve snorted. A giggle rustled in her throat. "That explains why you asked for no ketchup when we ordered at WcDonald's. Does this mean I can blackmail you now?"

He grabbed her shoulders again and led her to the approach area of the lane. Deep thunder crackled over his head. "You know if you want me to yell at you, you don't need to go to this extreme. Just ask."

"What?!" Eve yelled. Her loud voice caught the attention of the people nearby. She felt fingers dig into her skin slightly. She gulped and pushed her feet on the floor, trying to counter his strength. "No! Ambee! Please! Have mercy! What have tomatoes done to you?"

Avery let the couple go. She sensed a presence coming closer. To many, they'd describe it as domineering or even intimidating. To her, it was simply a familiar one—that wrapped her in warmth during cold nights and that gifted her with headaches during other times.

"Such a simpleton, are you?" She muttered beside her husband.

Jackson pulled his head back and snorted. He peeked at her through the corner of his eye. Even from this angle, there was no denying her beauty. "Don't act like you didn't make me drink before this, lovely wife."

Fluttering her lashes, Avery met his gaze. Her lips pouted at the accusation. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I get it, I get it," Jackson replied in a rush. He shifted his focus back on the pair. They stood in front of a bowling lane, talking among themselves. He assessed Evangeline more than his own son. "I do like her so far. She has a favorable first impression. I won't treat her harshly unless she does something. Is that good enough?"

"More than I could ever ask for," Avery's shoulders relaxed. She hadn't know how much tension she was in until that moment. Things were going well so far. From what she knew, Eve hardly interacted with her husband. He probably wouldn't connect the pieces for a few more meetups.

Still, it was still best to distract him. She stuck her thumb out towards the other bowling lane. "Want to have a game before we compete against the kids?"

He immediately cracked his knuckles. "Then, get ready to lose." 

Avery tilted her head sideways and hooded her eyes. Despite their height difference, it allowed her to 'look down' on him. "Talking to yourself? That beer must have been stronger than I thought."

They continued to bicker and, soon, began their quest for glory. Jackson let his wife go first. Avery didn't waste a second. She ran up to the foul line and released her pink bowling ball. It rolled down the center. It hit the pins and plummeted them down to the wooden floorboard.

Jackson bolted upright. 

She had gotten a strike. That meant she had extra 10 points for her next two frames, gaining the lead. They hadn't played in so long. How could she score that easily.

Avery flipped her hair and turned around. Her lip gloss glinted under the lights. The sight fuelled her husband's competitive spirit. She didn't mind it one bit.

Victory tasted much better when the opponents also gave it their all. 

The sound of bowlings pins being knocked down resounded around the establishments. Cheers and laughter came from various sitting areas. Players each took their turn. They had two chances for every frame. That meant two opportunities to knock every last pin.

To beginners, it looked easier said than done.

Ambryan stood behind Eve. He lowered his head until his chin almost touched her shoulder. With one hand on her upper arm, he used the other to point out the different parts of the lane.

His voice came out in a low volume. No one could hear him but her. "Alright, before you start to bowl, you should learn about the basics."

"O-Okay," Eve stammered. She had clasped her hands together. Then, she concentrated on her legs. The beginnings of a tremor travelled up to her knees. She and Ambryan had stood this close only a couple of times. 

In fact, she could count them in one hand. 

Safe to say, they weren't enough yet for her to be comfortable with this close proximity.

(A/N: So… are you asking for more moments? Hmmm.)

"This is the foul line. You shouldn't cross it before releasing the ball. If you do, the score wouldn't count." Ambryan began. He tapped her shoulder so she'd look towards the other line. This one was behind them. "That's where you'll start. From there, you have the length of 15 feet (4.6 m) to gain momentum."

"That's oddly specific," Eve couldn't help but comment. They turned back towards the lane. 10 bowling pins awaited them from the other side. "I'm guessing you also know how long the actual lane is?"

"60 feet (18.3 m) from the foul line to the first pin."

"Uh-huh," she clicked her tongue and pointed at the two deep canals on either side. "Are these the pathways to losing? The ones to be avoided at all costs?"

Ambryan chuckled at her description. "That's one way of putting it. Those are the gutters. Once the ball falls into one, it is out of play. Even if it manages to get out, the score won't count."

"Not even for effort?"

"Nope."

"Bummer," Eve grunted. "That would really suck. I should get used to it."

"And why is that?" Ambryan challenged. He stepped sideways and crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't take you as someone who gave up easily. This is unlike you."

"It's called being realistic," she defended. "I've never played. I bet all the balls would land in them for each turn. There's just no way I could ever score."

"It's about technique. The common mistake most people do is looking at the pins when they bowl." Ambryan gestured towards the lane. Ahead of them, seven pointed shapes had been painted on the floor. "They should be looking at these markers instead. These arrowheads help you aim better. If you want to be safe, just aim for the center."

Eve bit her bottom lip. She had to admit. It was a good tip. They were a lot closer than the bowling pins. It wouldn't be hard to target one of them. But, that couldn't be the only thing she should pay attention to. 

"I still don't think—"

"Hold that thought." Ambryan left to grab a bowl from the rack. Its pattern on the surface reminded him of rising lava from a volcano. That along with the weight and size, he figured it was the best fit for Evangeline. "Here. This should work just fine. If you don't know which bowling ball to use, just take the one that's 10% of your weight."

"Really? What if you're too underweight or the opposite?" Eve took the ball of his hands. She fitted her thumb and two fingers on the holes. She placed her other hand under the ball, supporting it near her chest. 

"Don't think of things that are irrelevant to the situation.

"Oops."

"Of course, the way you release the ball comes into play." Ambryan led her to the first line. He stood behind her again. If possible, the space between them seemed narrower than before. His palms touched the back of her hands while his arms wrapped around.

His thumb and two fingers matched the ones that held the ball.

"Don't worry. I'll guide you through it."