Rookie Move

by KB Winters

  I was about to ask Paris for her advice when a blast from the past walked in the front door and my mouth fell to the ground. Our bartender returned and I ripped the menu from his hands and held it open to shield me from the view of my old high school nemesis—Summer Pratt.

  Damn her. She looked like she just left high school. Her hair glossy and slick like something from a shampoo commercial. Natural makeup that made her look young and fresh. Her fashion sense appeared to have changed. She used to strut around school in tiny shorts that barely passed the dress code and t-shirts so tight you could see the outline of her nipples. Now, she was wearing a conservative black and white polka dot wrap dress that fit her like a glove but was flirty, not overly sexy.

  She flounced across the room with two girlfriends and took a corner booth. The bartender, having been rejected by Paris, flew over to see if he could get any bites.

  “Wow, got over that fast, didn’t he?” Paris said, smirking at me. I peeked over the top, my eyes wide and panicked. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you hiding behind your menu?”

  “I know that girl over there. The blonde. We went to high school together.”

  “No shit!” Paris said, craning around to get a glimpse. I ducked for cover behind my menu. “You two weren’t friends, I’m guessing from your shady as shit behavior right now. Stop hiding.” She took a swipe for my menu but I kept it tight in a death grip.

  “Stop it! No, we most certainly were not friends! She stole my…well…my want to be boyfriend.”

  Paris rolled her eyes. “Are you serious? High school was a while ago. What, seven years for you? I think you can let go the pretend boyfriend stealing.”

  “No! It wasn’t just that. She was super bitchy to me. She had money and was popular and made it her mission to make anyone not in her crowd to feel like dog shit on her shoes. She knew I liked this guy, Warren, and she stole him from me, and then made a point to flaunt him in front of me. They would make out at his locker which was right across the hall from mine. And she’d whisper something in his ear but be watching me the whole time. She was a monster.”

  “Okay, so she’s a twat. But do we have to let her ruin a good thing here? I want nachos.”

  I groaned. “Let’s go get a table.”

  “Fine!”

  We escaped from the bar and I released a sigh when we made it out without being spotted. The hostess at the front took us to the opposite end of the restaurant and put us at a booth. Paris ordered her nachos and I ordered a taco plate and another margarita.

  “You know what the perfect revenge would be?” Paris said.

  “What?”

  “On your high school mean girl? If you were dating a hot baseball pro!”

  I laughed. “Back to that, huh?”

  “Oh, I’m not letting it go till you’ve got a ring on it and popping out a chubby baby.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored the silent thrill at the idea.

  After the food was dropped off, Paris started rambling on about new ideas for the wedding and my margaritas caught up with me. I excused myself to the ladies’ room and found the first two stalls occupied. I took the last of the three.

  “I still can’t believe you’re dating him,” one of the other two occupants said with a giggle.

  The other woman giggled along. “I know. Me either.”

  Shit! I knew that giggle. It was Summer. I winced and hurried to get done.

  “When we broke up, I thought it was over for good. But as soon as we saw each other in Dallas it was like no time had passed at all.”

  I gagged to myself.

  The first voice chimed in, “He’s so hot too. Definitely a talented pitcher too. The Warriors are lucky to have him too.”

  Warriors? Pitcher? What the…

  “I don’t care about baseball. I mostly just like the way he fills out his baseball pants. Hot damn!”

  Her friend laughed like an unfiltered hyena. “For your bachelorette party we can have you wear a jersey that says Mrs. Wright on the back!”

  My stomach plummeted to the floor. Mrs. Wright? Cody Wright. My Cody.

  This couldn’t be happening again. Was Summer Pratt the reason he wanted to keep it casual? Was the universe really that cruel?

  If I wasn’t in the middle of a public restroom, I would have curled up into a ball on the floor and cried my eyes out.

  “Let’s not get too carried away, Bev. He hasn’t asked me. But it does feel like fate!”

  The toilets in the other stalls flushed and I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing I could disappear and scrub the memory from my mind. Once the sound of the sinks, heels clattering, and the door swinging shut all silences, I dared to creep out from my stall. I washed my hands and bolted back to my table where Paris was happily chomping away at her plate stacked high with nachos.

  “Bad news, Paris. I don’t think I can go to the game tonight after all.”

  “Why not?” she asked, licking grease from her thumb.

  I glanced down. “Bad tacos.”

  “You’ve hardly eaten any…”

  “I know but I need to leave.”

  She arched a brow and picked up another chip. “Is this because of that Summer girl? Cause I just saw her leave.”

  I shook my head and willed myself to keep from breaking down into sobs right there at the table. “I just don’t feel good.”

  “Okay, honey. Well, you head home. I’ll tell Cody you were sorry to miss him.”

  I nodded, holding back a cringe at the sound of his name. “Okay. Thanks, Paris. I owe ya!”

  Before she even finished saying goodbye, I turned and made a beeline for the side exit.

  22

  Cody

  Coach Robinson finally let off the gas when I finished with the press but by the end of the game—I was fuckin’ beat. My shoulder was aching and my head was spinning. Chelsea hadn’t appeared in the stands in my section. Paris was there, front and center like always. Throughout the game, I kept glancing up, hoping to catch sight of her, but she never appeared. That combined with my sore, exhausted muscles, the encounter with Summer earlier in the day, and the pressure of the game itself had me all but limping my ass off the field when the game was called.

  We eked out the win but it had been a vicious fight to the end. The entire team was edgy. Which didn’t bode well since we would be on a plane for an eight day stretch on the road to play a handful of away games. Close quarters, living out of suitcases, and eating a bunch of takeout wasn’t going to improve things.

  All I wanted to do was hit the showers, change into street clothes, and go find out what happened to Chelsea. I ducked into the locker room and hustled to get ready to go. No way was I going to get caught in there alone again. Not like after the last game when Summer slithered in to whisper in my ear. I’d had my fill of her for the day. It was damn unsettling for her to pop out of nowhere all the time. How was I supposed to do my fuckin’ job when I was always on red alert for my ex who was walking a tight rope between crazy and psycho?

  At first, in Dallas, she’d worked the revenge angle. But that last conversation…that was something else altogether. I couldn’t tell if she was heartbroken or hell bent on making me pay. Did she want me to pay for leaving her, or was she just out to make me miserable for the hell of it?

  I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that I wanted her out of my life. Something that wasn’t likely to happen if she was spreading her legs for the team owner.

  “Yo, Wright! Paris is out in the hall. We’re thinking Italian tonight. You in? I need some carbs, man. That game was fuckin’ rough.”

  I tugged a long sleeve shirt over my head and turned to face Robby. “Is Chelsea with her?”

  I knew the answer would be no but couldn’t help from asking anyway.

  Robby shook his head and my heart flipped upside down. “No. Paris said she went home sick all of a sudden.”

  “Oh? Damn. That sucks. You know what, I think I’ll take her some
soup or something.”

  Robby gave me a half-cocked grin. “You got it bad, Wright.”

  “Shut up, man.”

  I followed him out and greeted Paris. “Chels is sick? What kind?”

  Paris shrugged and then attached herself to Robby. “She said it was bad tacos but she barely took two bites. And I’m pretty sure food poisoning takes longer than that. She did have two margaritas though…maybe she was woozy from that? I’m not really sure.”

  I nodded. “All right. Well, I’m going to go check on her. You two have fun. Try not to get busted for public indecency.” I winked at them and jogged down the hall for the nearest exit.

  Forty minutes later, I pulled up outside of Chelsea’s townhouse. I grabbed the bag of supplies I’d collected at the drug store on the corner and went up to her front door. The light in her bedroom was on as well as the front window which led to the living room. At least she was awake. I knocked and rang the bell lightly.

  Footsteps sounded but then the lights in the front window shut off.

  “What the—” I knocked again. “Chels? It’s Cody. Open up, baby.”

  “Go away! And I’m not your baby.”

  I bristled at her barked reply. “Hey? What’s going on?” I tried the doorknob but it was locked tight. “Chelsea, what the hell? I came to see how you’re feeling. If you’re worried about getting me sick, I can assure you, I have the immune system of a—”

  The door jerked open and the scowl staring back at me stopped me mid-sentence. “Go. Away.”

  I put a hand up to stop her from slamming the door shut again and took a step forward. “Why? What the hell did I do?”

  “Hmm.” She tapped a fingertip on her lips. “Where should I start? First, you lied to me. Second, you’re just here to get some ass and I’m not giving any away so there’s really no point in your presence. And third, I just don’t like you.”

  She could not have shocked me more than if she’d tossed a cooler of ice water down my drawers. Her tone of voice had a shriveling effect on my balls too. Just like ice water.

  “Chelsea, what the hell are you talking about? Lied to you? About what?” I traced back, trying to latch onto something that made sense.

  She crossed her arms. “Well maybe you didn’t lie directly. But a lie of omission is the same damn thing in my book.”

  “Okay…”

  “Does the name Summer Pratt ring any bells?”

  I dropped my eyes to the space between us. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  I darted my eyes back to hers. “What did she say to you?”

  “What do you think she said? She was talking to her friend, and from the sound of it, the two of you are pretty hot and heavy.”

  “Hot and heavy? What? No, no, no! Please, Chelsea, let me explain…”

  “No.” She tried to push the door closed but I kept my place, blocking her. “Go away, Cody! I’m not opposed to calling the cops on you.”

  “Summer and I were together a long, long time ago! It’s been over for years!”

  “I knew her in high school you know.”

  “What?” I reeled back.

  “Mmhmm. I know how she likes boys like you. Notice I didn’t say men…”

  “Chels, I don’t—”

  “I don’t care, Cody. Whatever is, or was, going on with you two, I don’t need the details. We had fun. It’s over now. Just accept it and leave before your pretty little face ends up slapped on some sports gossip site with a mugshot for trespassing and harassment.”

  I backed up and let her slam the door closed.

  I raised my voice, setting aside my pride. “Chelsea, Summer Pratt was my college girlfriend. I didn’t know you two went to high school together. We dated for two years. I broke up with her when I got drafted. She’s a gold digger who wants to be the trophy wife of a pro athlete.”

  The door cracked open again. Chelsea popped out, only her eyes showing. “Go on…”

  I sighed. “I knew she was just using me. She wanted to be with a rich, successful guy and figured I had the best shot.”

  “Okay, that explains why she was with you but why were you with her?”

  “Because she was the hottest girl on campus, and I liked being the guy with her on my arm,” I admitted. Chelsea was worth setting aside my pride. I didn’t even care that I was broadcasting my dirty laundry to her entire subdivision. It didn’t matter.

  “Ick. But okay…then explain to me why she’s in Oklahoma City, blasting it all over that you two are together. What happened in Dallas?”

  “Dallas?” I shook my head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Well it is, so keep talking or I’m shutting the door again.”

  I met her eyes and my heart slammed against my chest. “Chels, she’s doing PR for the team. They introduced her at a team meeting when we were in Dallas for that game a week or whatever ago. I swear, I hadn’t seen her since the day we broke up and then all of a sudden…bam! There she was.”

  “And since then?”

  I heaved another sigh. “I’ve seen her a couple of times. But trust me, neither time was pleasurable.”

  Chelsea stared at me for a minute.

  “Baby, you gotta believe me. I don’t want to be with her. I’m sorry for whatever she said to you.”

  Chelsea shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. This is just a casual thing, right? I shouldn’t have let it bother me.”

  I propped an arm against the frame of the front door. “Chels, I think we both know this is way more than casual…”

  She drew in a breath and met my eyes, blinking in rapid succession. “Cody, I can’t do this. I don’t want to be in this world, where girls like Summer prowl around causing trouble and drama.”

  “Hell, I don’t either, but this is where I’m at.”

  She stared at me for another long moment. Then she took a step back and opened the door. “Do you want to come in?” she whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She clicked on the entryway light and I saw the red rims around her eyes. My heart squeezed into a tight ball and a wave of anger raged against Summer for putting Chelsea through all this shit.

  “I do,” I said, taking a tentative step inside. “I brought you a get-better-soon kit.”

  I held up the bag and she took it from me. I closed the door and followed her into the living room. She plopped onto the couch and opened the bag. A smile played at her lips. “Pepto, breath mints, ramen in a cup, nail polish, and a movie?”

  “Not just a movie. A chick flick.”

  She laughed softly and looked back at her lap where the contents were now strewn. “Thank you, Cody. This was sweet of you.”

  “Well, Paris said your stomach was iffy. I figured Pepto could take care of that. The gum or mints were for after that cause seriously that stuff tastes like shit. Then ramen and a movie for afterward.”

  “And the nail polish?” she asked, holding up the glass bottle.

  I shrugged. “I thought it would look good on you. Impulse buy.”

  She laughed again and set it down. Her gaze lingered on her hands and when she dared to look back up at me, her eyes were glossy again. “So you really dated Summer? For two years?”

  I nodded and sank down onto the seat beside her. The bottle of polish rolled toward me and I righted it on the coffee table before reaching for Chelsea’s hands. “It is what it is. But it’s nothing now. Past.” A surprised laugh escaped her perfect lips and she nodded her head slowly. “So, is it true that you really don’t like me?”

  “I wish I didn’t…sometimes…”

  “I get that. I’m a hard man to…get along with,” I said, biting back the near slip. It was way too early to start dropping L-bombs on the poor woman. Hell, it was too early for me to even consider that. But there it was, right there at the tip of my tongue.

  Damn, this girl was gonna be the death of me.

  “You really are,” Chelsea teased, a spark coming back into her eyes.

&
nbsp; “I’m sorry, sugar.” I stroked my fingers down the side of her face, tracing the tracks in her makeup from where the tears slid down. It damn near broke my heart.

  She ducked her chin. “It was just a misunderstanding. Although, I think you need to talk to her.”

  “To Summer?” I grimaced at the idea.

  “She thinks you guys are together. I saw her in the bar with two friends. I made Paris switch to a booth because I didn’t want an impromptu high school reunion ruining my perfect afternoon.”

  I snorted. “Right? I hate it when that happens.”

  Chelsea smiled but it faded all too quickly. “Anyway, I went to the bathroom and Summer was in there with one of her friends. They didn’t see me come in but she was talking to her friend and said you two reconnected in Dallas and the friend was talking about her bachelorette party and—”

  “Fuck!”

  Chelsea nodded. “It was a little…crazy.”

  “I’ll say. Holy shit. No, just no. Chels, she’s delusional.” Anger twisted into a tight, red hot ball in my stomach and it was all I could do to keep my ass on the couch and not launch out into the night to track Summer down and cuss her out until every last one of her visions of us together was good and shattered.

  “I believe you,” Chelsea said, her large eyes dark and boring into mine. “Thank you for coming over to set the record straight.”

  “Of course. I guess you don’t really need any of this though,” I said, glancing down at the cheesy pile of drug store bargains.

  She giggled. “I might make you watch the rom-com as punishment.”

  I barked a laugh. “Only if we can watch it in bed and you promise not to wear a stitch of clothing.”

  She laughed and tossed her head back. “If I did that, I don’t think you’d even watch a minute of the movie.”

  “Not a single second.” I captured her chin and brought her lips to mine. The kiss started slow and sweet but took a quick turn south when Chelsea’s tongue probed out and licked the seam of my lips. Then it was on. I pushed past her lips and tangled with her eager tongue, plundering her sweet little mouth that tasted like dark chocolate. I coaxed a moan from her and dragged my fingers down her throat, feeling the vibrations of it against my fingertips.