Mister Dimples

by Becs, Lindsay

  Once I’m outside her door, I raise my fist and knock, waiting for her to answer. She opens the door and, without a greeting, moves for me to walk inside. Now I know something is definitely up.

  I lean in to kiss her lips, but she turns her head to give me her cheek, a brushoff that hurts. “Want to tell me why you’re upset with me?”

  “How do you know I’m upset?” she volleys back.

  I give her a look that reads are you for real?

  She lets out a sigh, turning away from me. “Your secret is out,” she says, and I’m not sure what she’s talking about. Then she throws a magazine at me. I catch it, and before I even look at it, I know.

  “Are you going to talk to me about it like an adult or just keep throwing shit at me?” I ask, already getting frustrated and defensive at how she’s acting.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Sit down,” she says, pulling a chair out and slamming it down on the floor. “Let’s talk.”

  I inhale and exhale, trying to calm myself before I say anything more. “I didn’t lie to you,” I start.

  She rolls her eyes with a scoff. “But you didn’t tell me who you were either. How could you not when you know exactly who I am and what I do?”

  “You’re right. I should have. But I really liked—like you and didn’t want this to end before it started.”

  “Shouldn’t that have been my choice?”

  I nod. She’s right. I didn’t give her the option. I just chose for both of us.

  “I’m sorry. Can we talk about it now?” She motions for me to go on and then crosses her arms across her chest, closing herself off from me. “I’m Troy Tipton. I was drafted to play for the Giants in the NFL last year. The media gave me the nickname Mister Dimples, and I hate it but go along with it because my agent says I should to ‘grow my brand’ or whatever. I played football at Penn State—which I did tell you—for all four years I was there. I’m twenty-three, but my birthday is coming up next month. I’ve loved your show since I heard you called Jayden Lupe a limp dick in your first interview after a basketball game. I think you are gorgeous and sexy and adorable all wrapped in one. You make me laugh on your show and in person, and I really like where this has been going so far.”

  I stop talking and hope that she’s thawing out and not as mad anymore.

  “Thank you for telling me who you are. But why didn’t you before?” she asks, sounding more hurt than mad this time.

  I decide to go with Dante’s advice and be straight with her. “Would you believe me if I said I was scared?”

  “You? Big, bad muscly pro-football player was scared to tell me who he was?” she asks skeptically.

  “Because of your show, I figured you’d say we couldn’t be together. I also wondered if you knew who I was in the beginning and just didn’t want to draw attention to it. But the more we talked, the more I realized how truthful you are on your show and that you really don’t know shit about sports or players.” I smile.

  She tries not to smile but loses the battle. “I really don’t. I purposely stay away from it all unless I’m recording. I don’t read or watch anything on TV, online, listen to the radio, nothing. If people thought I was faking, it wouldn’t work. I have to stay honest and truthful, and that doesn’t work if I know what I’m talking about.”

  I bark out a laugh at how ridiculous it is, and yet it makes so much sense. “This is why I want to be with you! You are so genuine and authentic. Do you have any idea how rare it is to find that? Especially in New York and even more so when I’m a high-profile athlete.”

  “I can appreciate that.” She smiles.

  “By me not telling you, I didn’t mean any disrespect or harm. I truly just liked you not knowing me as Mister Dimples and that you were getting to know me, Troy.”

  She sits there looking at me. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad at this point or how badly I screwed things up. The pregnant pause between us seems to distance us more and more.

  “I believe you,” she says simply after several minutes of us sitting in awkward silence.

  I nod in relief to her acceptance of the truth. “Where does this leave us?” I ask, unsure of what she’ll say.

  She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as she keeps her eyes on me. “I like you too. I want to keep seeing you, but we can’t let it get out. If it gets leaked, it’s the end for me.”

  “You want to date in secret?”

  “I guess,” she says, covering her face with her hands. “I don’t know what to do, Troy!” she whines through a nervous laugh and gritted teeth.

  “We’ll figure it out. No pressure, okay?”

  “Depending on where this goes, we’ll have to make sure that we’re the ones who let the news out. It could be harmful to you, too, given what my job is.”

  “Aww… you do care!” I jest. “I’ll be okay, Juni. Don’t you worry about me.”

  “Hey, only my friends call me Juni!”

  “Am I not your friend?” I ask lightheartedly.

  “I kinda thought you were maybe a little more.” Her cheeks pink as she says it.

  Standing up, I walk to her and pull her by the hand until she standing too. Gripping her waist, I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my middle. My hands move to hold her up by the butt, and her arms circle my neck.

  “I like that thought,” I say before claiming her lips.

  * * *

  Since Juniper found out all about me and what my day job is a couple weeks ago, things have been surprisingly easy. With it being off season for me and a slower time of the year for sports in general, her workload has been slower too. It’s made it nice for us to be able to spend more time together. We know that come August, we’ll both be a whole lot busier.

  Today we’re driving to her mom’s farm. We’re bringing a couple dogs from Forever Grey to live there. It’s sad really. Sure, they’ll get to live out their lives in happy dog bliss and run around as much as they want. But it also means that no one wanted them to be part of their family.

  “I told you that my mom is basically a hippy, right?” she asks nervously from the passenger seat as I drive us there.

  “Yes.”

  “Just… she’s going to ask you questions that you won’t expect a mom to ask. She might even be condescending about your career.”

  I quirk a brow at that. Most people see that as a great accomplishment. “Okay… Anything else I should know?”

  “My last name, Love? It’s the name she gave to my sisters and me since we all have different dads, but it’s not hers. Her name is Allison Larson, but to her friends, she goes by Sunny—short for Sunshine—Love,” she adds in a deflated tone that makes me laugh.

  A thought comes to mind. “What’s your middle name, Juniper Love?”

  “I hate you right now, just so you know,” she says before telling me her full name: Juniper Meadow Love.

  I try not to, I really do, but I can’t hold in my laughter. “Oh shit, please tell me that Lilly’s middle name is pad.”

  “Ha-ha. Laugh it up now.”

  “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” I ask as I wipe the tears away that are forming in my eyes from laughing.

  Turning to face me, she gives me a look of annoyance. “I’m only telling you this one time. If you forget, that’s on you.”

  “No way I’m going to forget something like this.”

  “Rose Petal, Lilly Bloom, Ivy Vine.”

  My laughter grows with each one, and I know it’s mean but I can’t stop it. “Poor Ivy,” I say. “Vine? Really?” She nods, and I see a smile trying to turn up the corner of her mouth.

  We joke and tease each other the rest of the way to the farm. When we turn down the gravel drive and park, she yells she has to pee, jumping from the car. I’m left sitting there by myself, unsure of where to go or what to do.

  Stepping out of the SUV, I go to the back to open the hatch and check on the dogs. I’m bent over looking at something when I feel a hard poke in my ass. J
umping, I turn to see what or who it is.

  Standing behind me is a white goat. I begin to take a step toward it, and it loudly bleats, making me jump.

  “I think he likes you,” I hear a woman, who I didn’t see before, say.

  “Is that what that means? I was afraid it meant I was his dinner.”

  “Nah, he’s harmless,” she says, closing the distance between her and the goat.

  Standing there, I can see bits and pieces of Juniper but not a lot. She must take after her father more, whoever he is.

  “I’m sorry. I’m Troy,” I quickly add, putting my hand out for her to shake.

  Her eyes go to my hand and back up to my face. “You new to Forever Grey?”

  “Uhh…” I start but am saved by Juniper joining us.

  “Sorry! Hi, Sunny!” she greets her mom. I give her a look. She forgot to mention that she calls her mom Sunny too. “This is my friend, Troy.”

  “We met,” Sunny states in a tone that doesn’t say she’s sold on me yet. It’s a tone I get from Juniper a lot too. “Come on, let’s get these dogs out and give them the grand tour.”

  Juniper leashes them while I remove the crates to fold them flat for the drive back. Throwing the bags of dog food over my shoulders that Forever Grey gave us to bring to the farm, I follow the ladies toward the house.

  “At least he’s useful,” I hear Sunny say.

  “Sometimes,” Juniper replies, winking at me over her shoulder.

  Once we bring the dogs and their food to the house, Juniper tells her mom that she’s going to show me around the farm. Taking my hand in hers, she guides me out to the side of the house.

  As we walk around, she points out the flowerbed she planted as a child that was hers to cultivate and care for as she wanted. She introduced me to all her favorite animals; a bunny named Fred, a goat—the same one that tried to get frisky—named Snow, and a greyhound named Dancer.

  I loved seeing her out of the city and in her obvious comfort place. I wondered if she’d ever leave the city or if she liked it enough to stay, regardless of her job. She had a serene look on her face as we walked.

  When we circle back to the house, we walk inside to find Sunny stirring a pitcher of what looks like sun tea, something I hadn’t had in years. Not since I was a kid and my grandmother made it at a family reunion.

  She pours each of us a glass of tea and motions for us to sit. “You sleeping with my daughter?”

  I almost spit out the sip I had just taken. “Uh… not yet?” Juniper looks at me in shock that that was my answer.

  “Honest. I like that,” Sunny muses, taking a sip from her glass. “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a professional athlete.”

  “Which sport?” she keeps grilling

  “Football.”

  “At least it’s a manly one. I would have kicked you out if you said golf.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay,” I quip.

  “She seems keen on you,” Sunny says, hitching a thumb toward her daughter. “Just wrap it up. I’m not ready to be a grandma yet, and I’m worried my youngest is gonna make that happen sooner than I’d like.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Sunny works fine,” she corrects.

  “Yes, Sunny, we will be sure to use protection. I’m just entering my second year in the NFL; I can’t afford to be having kids yet either.”

  This conversation was weird. Juniper was right when she warned me earlier. She and I hadn’t even had these conversations yet. Hell, we hadn’t slept together yet. Sure, I wanted to, but I wasn’t planning on talking about kids before I even saw her completely naked.

  We talked for a little while longer until our glasses were empty, said our goodbyes and headed to my car.

  “So, that’s my mom,” Juniper says as we drive away from the farm.

  I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips. “I liked her. I like you. And I’ll be sure to buy extra condoms.”

  She presses her face into my arm. “I can’t believe she said that.” Picking up her head, she looks at me. “Wait. Yes, I can.”

  “So, should I stop at the drugstore on the way back…”

  She playfully slaps my arm. “Shut up!”

  “Only if you say you’ll stay at my place tonight.”

  “Okay,” she replies, beaming up at me.

  7

  If we’re not meant to have midnight snacks, why is there a light in the fridge?

  JUNIPER

  Holy shit, HOLY shit, HOLY SHIT!!

  Troy’s “place,” as he calls it, is HUGE! I know he’s in the NFL, and with that they get paid like movie stars, but shit. I didn’t even know you could get this much square footage in New York. Let alone have it all to yourself.

  I’m sure my eyes have done that cartoon thing where they pop out of my head like they’re attached to springs. I’m trying to play it cool, but I’m have a lot of feelings right now. He has so much space. And a killer view. And everything is clean and smells good. And, I don’t know what it’s called when you’re turned on by objects instead of people, but I think I have that going on right now with the corner of his couch.

  “Is something wrong?” Troy cautiously asks as I stand staring out his floor-to-ceiling windows with my mouth hanging open and probably drooling.

  I turn to face him, still in shock and awe. “This is spectacular.”

  “Yeah, the view was what sold me on this place. My agent scouted several places for me and narrowed it down to three. This was the first one I looked at, and I was sold as soon as I saw it. Didn’t even bother with the other two.” I begin to giggle and snort a laugh at his easy way of talking about this penthouse like it’s nothing. “What’s so funny?”

  “You! You have no idea what you have here. This kind of place is rare in the city, and you act so chill about it. I kinda want to ask you to marry me right now just so I can live here.”

  He rubs the back of his neck like he’s suddenly embarrassed or nervous. “I’m glad you like it.”

  I watch him for a moment and wonder what’s going on in his head. He’s obviously feeling anxious and uncomfortable. Thinking back to our previous conversations, it hits me that he’s afraid I’ll only be with him because of his status or money, not because of who he truly is.

  Taking a few steps toward him, I wrap my arms around his waist and look up at him, my gentle giant. “I like you more. You know that, right?”

  His hands slide up and down my arms. After taking a breath, he says, “I do. I just…” He trails off and closes his eyes.

  Pushing up on my toes, I press a kiss to his chin. “You could live on a bench in the park and I would still like you, Troy.”

  “I don’t know why I question it so much. Especially with you.”

  “Because you have to be cautious. I get it. You’re a celebrity. But your celebrity isn’t what I fell for. It was you.”

  Leaning down he kisses me. Once, sweet and soft and quick. But it’s not enough. Pushing up on my toes again, I go in search of more. I need more. I want more.

  My hands glide up his chest and his slide down to my ass as we kiss more, our tongues dueling as we leave open-mouth kisses over and over. His hands pull me flush against him, and I feel his hard cock on my belly as we keep kissing and nipping at each other’s lips.

  I slide one of my hands down his chest and abdomen until I reach the waist of his jeans, pulling his belt loose with one hand and then popping his button and fly open. My fingers brush the head of his cock, which is trying to get free from the waistband of his underwear, and he lets out a sexy little groan. Pulling the elastic back, I push my hand inside and grip him, sliding my hand down the velvety-soft skin that contrasts his hard length. This time he growls as I push down and pull back up on him, running my thumb across the head, coated in pre-come.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” he says as we keep kissing, my hand continuing its slow, languid movements.

  In a quick moment, he stops kissing
me and steps back, pulling his shirt off and throwing it to the side. I mimic him and remove my shirt and bra. His pants begin to fall down, so he pushes them off the rest of the way, taking his socks and shoes with them.

  He stands up in just his boxer briefs with the head of his cock now pushed out from the waistband. He is sex on a stick, and I can’t wait to eat him up.

  Swallowing my nerves, I try to focus on the task at hand and kick off my shoes as I unzip my jeans and push them down my legs. When I stand up in just my lacy boy-short underwear and look at him, he’s looking back at me with darkening, lust-filled, hooded eyes.

  I don’t think; I just take a step and leap. He catches me and brings me up to sit at his waist as my legs automatically wrap around him. Both of us moan greedily as our bodies press together in all the right spots, and we begin to devour each other in more kisses.

  His hands knead and grip my ass as he walks us out of the main room, and I selfishly move my hips to gain more friction as he carries me. It’s not until I fall onto something soft that I open my eyes and can tell we’re in his bedroom. He stands at the foot of his bed, looking down at me, his eyes roaming over my body.

  My thumbs hook into the sides of my underwear, and I push them down my legs, kicking them at him when they reach my feet. He catches them in his fist and brings them to his nose before throwing them behind him with a sexy grin.

  Bending my knees up, I spread my legs open and run my hands over my naked body, which is humming and ready for him. He surprises me though. Pushing his boxers down, he grips his cock in his fist and lazily strokes himself.

  “Come here,” I say, my voice sounding husky in my lust.

  “We didn’t stop at the drug store though,” he quips with a sideways grin.

  “I’m on the pill and have an extra condom in my purse if you don’t have any, but I’m going to need you to fuck me either way.”

  “Bossy,” he says as he walks to his dresser and opens a drawer. He tosses a string of condoms on the bed next to me.