When they returned to his apartment, Keeley suggested a slow introduction to the house for Dinah, to avoid overwhelming her with the large space. Aaron released her into the room he'd prepared with cat supplies. After a few minutes of sniffing and a small amount of food, Dinah jumped into the hammock and fell asleep.

"My work here is done," Keeley announced, clapping her hands. "Take me home now."

"Now?" It was only lunchtime. He hadn't spent nearly enough time with her. "At least let me buy you lunch; it's the least I can do after all your help today."

She hesitated. "What kind of lunch?"

"Anything you want," he said earnestly.

Keeley grinned mischievously. "No take-backs."

He held up three fingers in a Boy Scout salute. "No take-backs," he agreed.

Aaron regretted his promise once he drove to the address she'd navigated on his phone. It was a chain buffet with an arcade and rides—clearly geared towards children's birthday parties. Why on earth had she chosen this when they could have gone anywhere in New York City?

"I haven't been to one of these places in over a decade," she said gleefully as they entered. "You wouldn't deny me this fun after I helped you out, would you?"

"No," he conceded.

He'd promised her anything she wanted, and needed to appear trustworthy after her earlier distrust. He'd prove himself by any means necessary, even this ridiculous place.

Besides, if she wanted to play arcade games…that felt almost like a date. Keeley had taken him to an arcade in high school, spending a significant amount of time teaching him Skee-Ball.

She'd had a lot of fun that day, laughing and smiling constantly. If this was anything like that, he'd gladly endure the subpar food.

Keeley piled her plate high with macaroni, pizza, breadsticks, cinnamon rolls, and other buffet offerings. Aaron opted for a salad and baked potato, but also got a brownie at her recommendation. They weren't as good as hers, in his opinion.

"Aaron," she said sweetly after they finished. "I want to play games."

"Okay."

Surprise briefly flickered across her face before she resumed her previous expression. He loaded two game cards, using them instead of coins or tokens; they tracked tickets for prizes.

She immediately headed for the Skee-Ball. Keeley was skilled, usually landing the ball in the 30-point hole or higher.

Aaron enjoyed her focused expression—the same one she'd had the first time. She smirked, turning to him.

"Have you ever played this before?"

"Yes."

Her brows furrowed. "Seriously? You? Show me what you've got then."

He did. He wasn't as good, but managed a few shots over 10 points.

"How's that?"

"Surprisingly not bad," she admitted grudgingly. "What about air hockey?"

They'd played air hockey before. Aaron surprised her by winning their second game, despite being a novice. He had good reflexes and natural talent.

At the air hockey table, he won again, despite her best efforts. Keeley became flustered, knocking the puck into her own goal three times.

"Beginner's luck," she claimed, muttering, "There's got to be something you're not good at."

Aaron stifled a laugh. He understood: she was trying to one-up him. There were many arcade games he wasn't good at, but he found her struggles more entertaining, so offered no hints.

"Bumper cars!" Keeley exclaimed. "There's no way you've done that before!"

That was true. Driving a bumper car was unlike driving a real car. Aaron stalled repeatedly, struggling with the steering wheel. He bumped corners, got stuck often, and was frequently rammed from behind, eliciting Keeley's delighted laughter. He knew it was at his expense, but enjoyed it nonetheless. At least she was having fun.

She bounced out of the ride, revitalized. "Alright! I'm playing Deal or No Deal next."

It was based on the TV show, but Aaron had never watched game shows or reality TV. That was Keeley's guilty pleasure.

She thought he didn't know, only watching when he was out, but he'd seen the DVR recordings. He wasn't sure why she kept it a secret. Did she think it beneath her as Mrs. Hale?

"Pick case number ten," he said casually, having observed the cases. He was fairly certain it contained 100 tickets.

She ignored him, choosing case number eight. At the end, she was down to case number ten and her chosen case, dismayed to discover Aaron was right. She only won twenty tickets.

"I told you so," he said smugly. "This is why you should listen to me."

Keeley hopped off the stool angrily. "Whatever. I can beat you at the trivia quiz."

And she did. He knew nothing about pop culture, managing only two points through guessing, compared to her fourteen.

They continued this way for a while, each excelling at different games. They ended with 456 tickets and enough credits for one more ride, at her insistence.