Текст книги "When We Met"

Автор книги: Christina Lee

Соавторы: Molly McAdams,A. L. Jackson,Tiffany King
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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

chapter eight

Dalton

Did you see? I texted Sunday morning.

See what? The reply came back almost immediately, making me smile. I liked that Courtney responded so quickly. She must be at least a little interested in me.

 Very funny. I have proof in case you missed it.

 Okay, I might have seen it but I’m not sure the size justifies a date.

Nice try. I’ll pick you up at three tomorrow afternoon. I’d already prepared myself in case she tried to back out. There would be no chance of that.

 What if I have to work?

 U don’t. U told me yesterday U were off.

Aren’t you going to be tired from your trip? Her last-ditch attempt was cute, but I wasn’t budging.

 Nope, I’ll be all rested up.

 R U always such an eager beaver when U go out with someone?

 Normally I don’t have to work so hard.

 Great, so I’m like some conquest for sporty-boy who normally gets everything he wants just by smiling?

 Well, my smile is pretty amazing.

 Oh Lord. I think I’m coming down with a stomach bug.

 Look, you’re not a conquest.

 Then what am I?

 A refreshing change.

 I may have just sprained my eyes from rolling them.

 You’re still going. I’ll be there by three.

 Don’t you want my address?

I chuckled, earning a grin from Collin, who was sprawled across the seats next to me in the airport. I have my ways. Hamilton Street, right?

 Really? How?

 Can’t reveal my sources.

 Typical.

We were getting ready to board our plane, so I had to say good-bye, which was probably a good thing. The way my luck had started with Courtney, I’d say something she would take out of context and I’d be in the doghouse again.

“Bro, you got it bad,” Collin observed.

He didn’t know the half of it. He’d really think I was a pussy if he saw all the messages we’d exchanged.

“You’re just jealous.”

“You wish. I got my own thing working.”

“We’ll see. Amanda is known for chewing guys up and spitting them out.”

“That’s because she’s never rode the Collin train,” he said, cracking a smile.

“Wow, you should tell her that. I bet she’d tear her clothes off.”

“Do I look stupid?”

“Well, now that you asked . . .”

He chucked his empty water bottle at me, which I slapped away easily.

Collin was cool, but I had my own girl issue to worry about. For whatever reason, tomorrow felt like the most important date I’d ever gone on. I didn’t want to screw it up. Over the past two days, my initial relationship with Courtney had changed from pursuit to genuine interest. Through the course of our text-messaging, I’d gotten a small glimpse into the person behind the force field she seemed to have up when she was around me. I was definitely intrigued. Tomorrow I would get to see even more.

* * *

The drive from my apartment to Courtney’s house on Hamilton Street took less than ten minutes Monday afternoon. I felt something in my stomach that I could only have guessed was nerves. It was a feeling I wasn’t used to. Even before big games, one of my strengths was that I stayed as cool as the other side of the pillow. The roads were icy from another cold front that had moved in overnight. Winter in Michigan translated to freeze-your-balls-off cold. I blasted the heat, coaxing it to warm up the car to a suitable temperature before I pulled up to Courtney’s house.

There were several cars in the driveway. I parked behind a car that looked like it was being held together by chewing gum and maybe some spit. The thing was so rusted out it looked like it belonged in a garbage heap. It had a college parking sticker in the window, so it must have worked.

I made my way up to the front door and stomped my feet on the welcome mat as I rang the doorbell. The sound of voices hummed through the door just before it was thrown open. Courtney hopped on one foot, working to zip her boot that stopped just below her knee. “You’re early.”

“Nope. It’s one minute past three, to be exact,” I said, trying to act cool over the sight of Courtney dressed in tight jeans. The denim hugged all her assets, highlighting them in a way that should have been illegal. The tight pink sweater that strained across her large full breasts was almost my undoing. A clear mental picture of what lay underneath filled my head and was enough to make my mouth go dry. I took the opportunity while her head was down to shift my boys while I still had some control. All I could think was that it was a good thing my coat ran past my waist.

“Indy, I’m leaving. Do you want me to lock the front door?” Courtney called down the hall.

“No, Kier is on his way over.”

“Okay, see you later.” Courtney closed the door, shrugging into a short jacket that stopped at her waist just above her amazing ass. Tonight was going to be like a medieval torture exercise on my body.

“So, that was one of my roommates,” Courtney commented as I took her elbow to guide her down the icy sidewalk. It was a move Mom had instilled in me when I was ten. Always open the door for a lady, and let her go first. I was unprepared for how I felt touching her. There were at least two layers of clothing separating skin-on-skin contact, but I could still sense the warmth of her arm.

Courtney looked down at my hand. “Are you afraid I don’t know how to walk?” she asked, although she didn’t pull away.

“My mom always taught me it was polite to escort a lady over treacherous terrain.”

“And you think this is treacherous terrain?” She patted the rust bucket of a car when we passed it.

“Sure. It’s icy and the sidewalk slants slightly. Besides, it gives me a chance to hold on to you so you can’t bolt,” I stated, opening the car door for her. “So, is that your car?” I asked skeptically, climbing behind the wheel of my car.

“Yeah, that’s Lucy.” She turned to glare at me, clearly challenging me to say something derogatory.

“Lucy?” I asked playfully, sidestepping the fact that it was a complete piece of junk.

“Yeah, Lucy. Are guys the only ones allowed to name their vehicles?”

“Well, no. It’s just, Lucy doesn’t quite seem appropriate for that car.”

“Maybe not to you. There’s nothing wrong with Lucy. Sure, she’s not as pretty or fancy as some cars, but she’s reliable, and I don’t have to worry about any dings or scratches.”

“Damn, extract the claws from my ass. I wasn’t criticizing.”

“Right. Everyone picks on poor Lucy. So, where are you taking me?”

“Twelve Acres Vineyards.”

“Nice. That’s not too far away.”

“Have you been? Wait—do you even like wine? I guess that information would have been vital for me to check on before I made our reservation.”

She started laughing at my question.

I couldn’t help smiling with her. She had a great laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You asking me if I like wine. My roommates would bust a gut. They call me a wine snob since that’s usually the only alcoholic beverage I drink. Well, besides an occasional shot.”

“Really? What about beer?”

“Yuck, I hate beer. The taste and smell make me want to gag.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you know you work in a sports bar, right? Beer is kind of a staple item at a place like Gruby’s.”

“I’ve learned to block it out. It’s not like I’m sticking my nose in everyone’s glasses.”

I chuckled at her explanation. It was sound reasoning.

“What about you? You don’t exactly look like a sommelier.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. I am quite gifted at wine tasting and pairing.” I grinned when she looked surprised. Sommelier wasn’t a word that was thrown around much on a college campus. “You’re surprised I know what a sommelier is?” I teased, resting my hand on hers. I expected her to pull away, but she shocked me by turning her hand over and lacing her fingers through mine. It was just holding hands, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Okay, I’ll admit I’m a little surprised. Even I hadn’t ever heard of pairing when it comes to wine. So, where did you get your knowledge?”

“My parents took me on a tour of wine country in California when I was fourteen. It was supposed to coincide with an important basketball camp, but I broke my hand and couldn’t go. I remember my dad was pissed because most of the best players my age were going to be there. He wanted to cancel, but the trip was already booked, so they dragged me along while I pouted the entire time. I complained bitterly, wondering why we couldn’t go to a theme park instead since we were going to be in California. After a few days, I discovered wine country wasn’t all that bad.”

“What was her name?” Courtney asked.

“Excuse me?”

“What was the girl’s name who still makes you grin like a goof? No boy would have fond memories of wine country over theme parks if a girl wasn’t involved. Spill it.”

“Touché. Her name was Honey.”

Courtney snorted loudly. “Sorry, did you say Honey? Why am I not surprised?”

“You like busting my balls, don’t you?”

She smirked. “You’re an easy target. I’m sorry for interrupting. Please tell me about Honey.”

“Anyway, I met Honey at a bed-and-breakfast we were staying at for a couple days. Her parents owned it. You’ll love this part. She lived up to her name. Her skin was the color of honey, and she wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. Being a young lad of fourteen, I definitely appreciated the short shorts she traipsed around the vineyard wearing. They left little to the imagination and within hours of meeting her, I came up with any excuse I could to trail around after her.

“She was sixteen, and I guess you could say way more experienced than any other girls I knew. Because I was tall for my age, she assumed I was older. Being the bright boy I was, I didn’t bother to correct her. On our second day at her parents’ vineyard, Honey pulled me into one of the dim barns, away from prying eyes. We were just about to round second base when my dad busted us.

“He had no qualms about throwing me under the humiliation bus by totally blurting out my age, and that I was way too young to be fooling around in some barn. Honey was horrified that she almost got felt up by a fourteen-year-old, and stalked off after informing me I was nothing but a boy. Dad thought the situation was funnier than I did. I remember wishing a pile of wine barrels would fall on me and put me out of my misery.”

Courtney had started laughing halfway through my story, and was now wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious. The great Dalton Thompson strikes out thanks to his daddy. Now, tell me. What is your idea of second base?”

“You don’t know what second base is?” I shook my head in mock disbelief.

“I know what I think second base is. I want to hear what your idea is.”

“Second base is tongue action and northern touches.”

“Northern touches?”

“Yeah, you know, copping a boob feel.” I felt my cheeks flushing slightly. Who would ever have thought I’d be embarrassed over talking about feeling a girl up? In my defense, it wasn’t normally a subject that came up with girls.

“You poor thing. So Daddy busted you before you could actually cup anything?” She smirked, obviously finding humor at my expense.

“The sad thing is I was right on the verge. The tips of my fingers had just grazed the lace of her bra when he walked in. It’s not funny,” I added as she started laughing again. “Okay, now it’s your turn to tell me something embarrassing that happened to you.”

“I was perfect and escaped any embarrassing moments unscathed.”

I could tell she was full of it by the way her mouth twitched. “I don’t believe you. Spill it. I told you mine. Now you tell me yours. Sharing is caring.”

“Oh boy. It’s getting deep in here. Did you just say sharing is caring?”

“I did. I can own it. Now stop stalling.”

chapter nine

Courtney

Dalton found my embarrassing tale of how I’d once flashed a lifeguard at a water park one summer very amusing. At least my story killed the rest of the time it took to get to our destination. I recounted how, unbeknownst to me, my chest had been on display for the world to see. I’d just gone down one of those twisty water slides when I splashed hard into the pool of water at the end. Standing at the bottom of the slide, I’d been too busy trying to get the water out of my face while making sure my hair wasn’t a total wreck to worry about the cool breeze on my chest.

It was only when my friend shrieked my name that I discovered the horrifying truth. The lifeguard was standing not two feet away from me. His eyes were locked on my chest, which was insanely large for my petite fifteen-year-old body. I hit the deck like a sniper had taken me out. Ducking beneath one foot of water, I tried to stuff my goods back into my skimpy top that had seemed so perfect when I picked it out at the mall.

“So, you’re telling me you didn’t realize both of your . . .” He paused, searching for the politically correct term. “They were hanging completely out?” he asked, pointing to my breasts.

“Boobs. And no. Not until my friend called my name. I’m not kidding when I tell you at least an entire minute passed while Lifeguard Boy got quite the eyeful.”

“Lucky guy. I bet you made his whole summer.” Dalton’s eyes drifted to my chest before returning back to the road.

“It was single-handedly the most mortifying moment of my life.” I couldn’t help joining in his laughter as he pulled into the parking lot of 12 Acres Vineyards. “I never went back, by the way.”

“Trust me when I say you were probably a pool legend after that. I bet he told every guy he knew. I wish I was there.”

“You were too busy being a basketball star by then. Hanging out with me was no longer cool.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them and I felt like a total bitch. It didn’t help to keep dragging up our past. He’d already apologized. I needed to let it go. I opened my car door, welcoming the cold blast of frigid air that smacked me in the face, swearing under my breath when I stepped out.

Dalton rounded the car and placed an arm across my shoulders, tucking me against his side. “I really am sorry.” He pulled me closer as we stood in the parking lot.

I tilted my face up to look at him. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. I’m a jerk for bringing it up again. We were twelve. I’m embarrassed I allowed it to color my opinion of you for so long.” I ducked my head back down when a new blast of cold air hit me in the face.

Dalton covered my face with his arm, leading me toward the building, away from the wind. The size difference between us was somewhat awkward for a moment, but somehow we made it work. Surprisingly we fit like two pieces of a puzzle. I burrowed closer against him as we walked, enjoying the closeness. The smell of his cologne and the soap he used encircled my senses.

Somewhere along the way, without realizing it, I’d stopped fighting my attraction to him. It would probably be a mistake. Unintentionally or not, the chances that we would last long term were probably slim. He was destined for stardom, going places outside my comprehension. I would remain here, trying to scrape by until I could finish school and get a job that would support Mom and I.

Understanding our different destinies didn’t make me pull away, though. Maybe it was the familiarity of being childhood friends or the way we both opened up during the car ride today, but being with him felt comfortable—natural. Whatever the reason, I’d decided he was worth the risk. The fact that I was physically attracted to him was icing on the cake. It was a small reminder of the feelings that had just begun to spring up when we were twelve. Of course, the attraction now was a far cry from the preteen attraction I had felt for him then. My desires now were very much in the adult capacity.

The warmth inside the building was soothing after walking from the car outside. I felt mildly disappointed when Dalton dropped his arm from my shoulders, until he reached for my hand. As we strolled along, I became hyperaware of how something as innocent as handholding could become somewhat erotic while sipping wine together. Dalton slid his thumb across the top of my hand in slow methodical strokes before gently caressing my pulse point. The hairs on the back of my neck felt as if they were standing on end. Each sweep of his thumb was a sensual dance with my sensitive skin, making it tingle.

It was becoming apparent to me that it might have been a bad call on my part to skip lunch. Between the scent of Dalton’s cologne and the alcohol I was consuming, I was already feeling slightly intoxicated. I nibbled on a few cubes of cheese to attempt to alleviate the buzzing in my head. Dalton’s breath teased my neck, making me shiver in a good way. I should have put some distance between us so I could regain my bearings, but instead I snuggled closer to him, wishing we were somewhere else with a lot fewer people around.

All the air escaped my lungs as Dalton slowly captured a bead of wine from my bottom lip with his finger. I watched with bated breath as he moved the finger to his own mouth, sucking the drop of wine. It was all I could do not to moan as my insides turned to putty.

“You need to stop looking at me like that,” Dalton murmured in my ear.

“Like what?” I licked the rest of the wine off my lip with the tip of my tongue.

This time it was Dalton who groaned softly. Placing his hands on my hips, he slowly backed me into a dim corner, away from prying eyes. “Like you’re thinking how great it would feel if I hoisted you up on that wine barrel table over there with your legs wrapped around my waist.”

“Are you sure that’s not you thinking that?” My hips responded almost instinctively as he pulled me snugly against his body. I could feel him, rock hard, pressed to my stomach. The wanting desire I had been keeping at bay from the moment he showed up at my house looking practically delectable with low-riding jeans and a black V-neck sweater that accentuated his well-toned chest was threatening to explode.

“Bet your ass it’s what I’m thinking.” His hands cupped my butt, pulling me close, just as his lips crushed down on mine.

I wasn’t entirely sure what came over me after that. I would like to blame the wine and Dalton’s tormenting caresses. One moment my feet were planted on the floor, and the next I was scaling his body like some damned horny monkey climbing a tree. Maybe it was his soft lips, or his large hands that were more than willing to get me where I wanted to be.

There was nothing tentative about our first kiss. It was hot and consuming like a forest fire. His tongue took control of my mouth like he owned it. My own tongue responded boldly as the heady taste of the wine he’d consumed teased my taste buds. Dalton’s hands held me in place as I moved against him. I was close to the point of no return when the sound of a clearing throat behind us finally broke through my wine-induced sexual intoxication. Heat crept up my neck as Dalton slowly lowered me back to the floor and turned toward the manager, who looked less than pleased.

I had tunnel vision as the manager escorted us on a walk of shame out the front door. The cold air sobered me up quickly. Neither Dalton nor I said anything as we walked to his car, but I was quite sure my face was as red as a tomato. Dalton was still a gentleman, holding the car door open and then closing it once I was seated. I looked out the window so I wouldn’t have to see his face as he climbed in and adjusted his seat belt. My actions were completely mortifying. To say I had behaved like a dog in heat would have been putting it mildly. Sex-starved prisoner would have been more accurate. I had totally made Dalton my prison bitch.

An unexpected bubble of laughter rose up my throat even though I was still embarrassed. I tried to clamp it down, but it escaped nevertheless. Dalton joined me in laughing. At least we could both appreciate the humor of the situation. It took several minutes to get it out of our systems. Tears streaked down my cheeks, and my stomach ached from laughing so hard.

“So, I guess we can never go back there,” I finally choked out.

“I would think not, but hey, they got a good show.”

“You’re not embarrassed or mortified like I am?”

“Embarrassed? Are you kidding? Erotic—yes. Mortifying—no.”

His words heated me from the inside out. Erotic. The word was heavy with meaning. “Come on. You weren’t even the slightest bit embarrassed when the manager escorted us out?”

“Hell to the no. I just wish we would have been in a less conspicuous place, because I’m interested in how far it would have gone if we hadn’t been interrupted.” He winked at me, making me blush again. There it was, hanging out there like a golden carrot. Did he know how close I had been to the big O? Only the fact that he had called the experience erotic saved him from getting a sock in the arm.

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally act like that on a first date.”

“Technically this is our second date. I was expecting to get to second base tonight.”

“Oh Lord. I’d say we came pretty damned close in there.”

“A few seconds more and it would have been a home run,” he teased. Little did he know how close to the truth his words were.

“Didn’t you say your mom taught you to be a gentleman? A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“That was a whole lot more than kissing, sweet stuff,” he murmured, resting his hand on mine. “If it helps, I was just as into it as you.”

“That does help a little.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Definitely. Maybe if I’d eaten before I drank a gallon of wine, I wouldn’t have tried to devour you.”

“So you’re telling me if I want to round more bases I shouldn’t feed you?” he teased, merging into the far right lane toward the highway exit. No more than a couple miles up the road, he pulled into the parking lot of a popular Italian restaurant.

“Are you allowed to talk about baseball so much when you’re a basketball player?”

“Good question. I can count on you to keep my secret, right?” He closed his door and walked around the front of the car to hold my door open. I had to admit, I was already getting used to that routine. He pulled me up from the seat so I was facing him with his long arms bracketing me on either side.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s an awfully big secret to keep. What do I get?” My eyes moved to his lips. Here we were in yet another public place and all I could think about was jumping on him again. He must have had the same thoughts since he lowered his mouth to mine. This time the kiss was probably what our first attempt should have been. It was tender and sweet and slow. So slow I thought I would melt into a puddle at his feet.

After a moment, he pulled away. “Are you sure you’re hungry?”

“Yes. No.” My words were a jumbled mess. “Wait, doesn’t food fuel the brain? I think I might need that. I’m still feeling a little bit tipsy from the wine.”

“Are you sure it’s the wine you’re feeling?”

“Nope. Not at all,” I answered as he put his arm around me and led me toward the restaurant.

The innuendos and sexual tension that still radiated between us made dinner a very pleasant experience. Our conversation flowed easily as we exchanged first date bios. We caught up on things we had missed out on while we weren’t friends. A lot of what he said I already knew since I had basically watched him from afar over the years. I almost regretted admitting that juicy tidbit considering how thrilled he looked.

Eventually the conversation moved to our classes. We each had professors who were particularly difficult.

I was happy to hear that Dalton didn’t have classes like Intro to Basket Weaving. I’d heard that the school went easy on student athletes where academics were concerned. But Dalton definitely took his classes seriously and was smart. He was majoring in business, because he thought it would help him later in life after basketball ended or if, God forbid, it didn’t work out for him. He was definitely realistic about the future. Not that it dimmed his aspirations.

I was no different except for our goals. He had NBA dreams, while I wanted to secure a position in a museum where I could pore over art all day. One of Dalton’s admirable qualities was that he wasn’t afraid of hard work, especially if it got him to where he wanted to be.

Our conversation turned playful when we started talking about animals. We both preferred dogs to cats. I confessed that my feelings weren’t based on actual experience, since I’d never owned my own pet. Dalton had a tough time wrapping his brain around that one.

“So you never got a pet? Not even a gerbil or a goldfish?”

“Nope. Not even a stray cat. You remember the apartment complex Mom and I lived in. They always had a ‘no pets’ policy.”

“That’s right. I do remember that. That sucks. My parents gave me Riley for Christmas the year I turned fifteen. It was instant love. Right after our dog, Gretchen, died. Do you remember her?”

I nodded. I did remember Gretchen. She was the closest I ever came to having a pet of my own.

“She was a great dog, but Riley’s special.”

“Like runs-into-the-walls-and-tries-to-eat-his-own-tail special?” I teased.

“He has been known to chase his own tail, but that doesn’t mean he’s not wicked smart. Take his fixation with my mom’s shoes and no one else’s for example. We all feel he blames her for sending me away to college.” He pulled his phone out to show me a picture of a beautiful golden retriever gnawing on a woman’s pump.

“Maybe he just likes the taste of the leather of her shoes better. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

He tapped his chin for a moment, thinking. “Got it. Riley can play basketball.”

“Hmm, resorting to fibbing now?” I asked after he paid the check and helped me into my jacket.

“No, seriously. He’s a good shot.”

We left the warmth of the restaurant behind, moving quickly to his car.

I shook my head, climbing into the vehicle. “You’re such a goofball.”

“I’ll have to prove it to you one of these days.”

He smiled as he closed his door and started the car. The quiet intimate atmosphere was a bit awkward at first after the restaurant. I couldn’t help thinking about our kiss at the winery. A new wave of heat washed over me as the mental picture filled my head.

By the time we pulled into my driveway and were standing outside my front door, I was torn over whether to invite him in or not. I wanted to spend more time with him, but I knew I should kiss him and send him on his way. I wasn’t the type who gave it up that quickly. If I had sex with him tonight, chances were he would move on to his next conquest, and I would feel like a total tramp.

He pulled me close for a good-night kiss. His lips were warm and soft as they settled on mine. I couldn’t help moaning slightly as his tongue swept into my mouth. A cold blast of wind blew against us, but I barely noticed, not wanting the kiss to end.

Dalton took matters into his own hands and pulled away. “You better get inside before you catch pneumonia. Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I work until nine.”

“That’s okay. We can grab a late dinner,” he said as another gust of wind whipped against us.

“Okay,” I answered through chattering teeth as he leaned in to give me one last kiss. This time he pushed me against the door so his body was blocking the wind. The cold became an afterthought as I felt every hard inch of him pushed against me. I struggled against my shaky resolve not to ask him in.

He pulled away. “Go inside. I’ll pick you up at Gruby’s tomorrow night.”

My hand shook as I fumbled to get my key into the lock. He placed his hand on mine, steadying it as the key slid effortlessly into the lock.

“What do you know? It slid right in,” he whispered into my ear. My knees nearly collapsed out from under me. He turned the doorknob and propelled me inside. I leaned against the door once I closed it, trying to catch my breath.

“Holy hell, that was hot.”