“How else do you figure you got a recognized player to paint his face for a nationally televised game? I couldn’t even get my douche-canoe ex to stick around.”
“Well, he was an ass. It seemed like you and Collin hit it off last night, though.”
“We did. We’re supposed to go out again when he gets back, but . . .”
“Oh no. What’s wrong with him?” I knew that tone in her voice. “You didn’t even give him a chance,” I said, thinking about poor Collin. Amanda’s dating track record was less than stellar.
“I don’t know. He seems a little too good to be true. I’m waiting for the second date to see if his true colors come out.”
“Oh my. God forbid he’s a good guy.”
“Ha. You’re a fine one to speak. You’ve got the team’s all-star jumping through hoops and you’re all like, ‘I’m too ugly.’ Seriously?”
“Don’t be a jerk.” I chuckled, swiping at her. “I bet Collin would do the same for you.”
She smirked. “I’m not so sure of that. Dalton is pursuing you like you’re holding the golden ticket to Wonka’s Factory. He wants your candy.”
“Shut it.” I frowned at her with butterflies dancing lightly in my stomach.
The heart on Dalton’s face was a popular topic the rest of the evening. Especially since Dalton played great, as usual. As the last few minutes of the game ticked away, the announcers declared the heart a lucky charm and speculated whether Dalton would repeat it for every game. I could have spoken up and at least set everyone at Gruby’s straight, but I kept my lips tightly closed.
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.