Fumbled Love

by Lila Rose

  “That one?” Paul pointed to another bigger girl.

  “Jesus. You idiots just want all the pretty ones for yourselves and give me all the heifers. Don’t think so. I’ll find someone to take to formal yet.” Henry complained.

  “Oh damn.” Mark laughed. “That one’s for you, Henry.”

  I clenched my jaw when Mark pointed out yet another larger girl. I didn’t see the problem with any of them. Hell, they were pretty in their own way. Something out the corner of my eye caught my attention. I glanced there.

  Fuck.

  It was her.

  I’d seen her around for a long time, but it was the last few weeks she’d grabbed my attention more and more. She was stunning, with long brown hair, dark brown eyes, and curves I wanted to run my hands over.

  She stood on the other side of the bookshelf from where we sat at the table pretending to study, and I knew she’d heard everything that was said so far.

  My gut tightened.

  “I think I just threw up in my mouth,” Henry said, and then pretended to gag. They all laughed, and I caught Paul looking at me, so I added my own chuckle into the fray.

  Which made me feel like an even bigger asshole.

  Her face darkened in disappointment, at me I guessed. Since I’d started taking notice of her, I’d spotted her on more than one occasion looking my way. As if she liked what she saw. Of course, I’d preened over it. I’d even flexed a few times when I discreetly saw her looking.

  And now I’d just fucked up by going along with my friends and their dickish ways. Not that I’d do anything about my attraction to her. Hell, I was moving out of town in a few days. Still, I hated the fact she’d heard them and would think I was just like them. But maybe I was. Laughing along was just as bad as making the comments myself, right?

  Even as I answered question after question in her class, I couldn’t get my mind around the fact Reagan was the same girl I’d lusted after years ago.

  There had to be some way I could win her over.

  Make her see I wasn’t the douche I had been.

  Make her see the curves she still had caused all the blood to rush to my dick since he was picturing me running my hands over them.

  Jesus, dude. Now isn’t the time to think about that shit in a class full of kids.

  “Yes?” I asked, taking a few steps forward and pointing to a kid with thick glasses.

  “Is it true after football you’re looking at coaching?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I have a bachelor’s degree and a teaching certificate from my time in college.”

  “So you didn’t just waste your time partying and hooking up with—”

  “Bradly,” Reagan warned. Some kids snickered. I glanced behind me to see she’d said it without raising her gaze; instead, her gaze was on a paper she pulled in front of her.

  Smiling, I shook my head at the kid. “At first I let loose a bit. I mean, it’s college. I wanted to have some fun. But then I realized I also wanted to have something to fall back on when football finished. I wanted to do something that I knew I’d like, so I had to find the tools to make sure I could see it happen when the time came.” I paused. “Football isn’t forever. It wears on your body a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I love the game, but everyone needs a backup plan in case it fails, because playing a sport there’s always a risk of injury. One so bad you can’t play the sport again, and instead of spiraling down into the dark pits of regret, though you’ll still have them, you move on eventually, and by completing a degree in fields that prepare you for the future, it’ll mean moving onto something you enjoy doing hopefully.”

  Behind me, I heard Reagan suck in a surprised gasp of air. I glanced to see a soft smile forming on her lips. She nodded once at me, and it seemed as if she were proud of my explanation. My attention went back to the students. They looked at me like I’d just told them the wisest thing they could learn in life. All their reactions felt good.

  Reagan’s the most.

  God, I wanted to know everything I could about the woman.

  But would she let me?

  I wasn’t sure, but I’d try.

  A bell sounded in the room. Reagan stood and came around the desk. “Class, please thank Mr. Anthony for his time.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Anthony,” most called out.

  The kids started to pack up their things while Reagan moved back around the desk to do the same. It was lunchtime. I had one more class I had to visit after lunch, a sophomore math class, but I found myself not wanting to. If I had my way, I’d be back in Reagan’s class. I was now annoyed with stupid Steve, the phys ed teacher, who was ripe on the nose, for taking up more of my time and making me late to Reagan’s. Her class was fun, her students all seemed to adore Reagan as their teacher, and I wondered if her other English students were as easy as those.

  “Lunch,” I stated like a caveman at her side. I was surprised I didn’t grunt and add, “You go with me,” then pound my chest.

  “Ah, yes. It usually happens around this time of day.” She started for the door. A few kids called a farewell to her. She waved and smiled back.

  I had the feeling, with her fast pace, she was trying to get away from me.

  “Are you going to the teacher’s lounge?” I asked, keeping up with her stride.

  She glanced to me and then back in front of her. “Um, yes?” It came out like a question. Did I make Reagan Wild nervous?

  “I’ll join you then.”

  She tripped, righted herself, and then stopped altogether.

  Before she could say anything, I did. “I remember you from school.”

  A flash of utter shock crossed her face, and then she frowned. “Okay?” she said, uncertain.

  “Let’s just have some lunch and we can talk,” I offered.

  Something close to unease dipped her brows for some reason. “Uh, I just remembered I promised I’d have lunch with Brooke in her office, so we can….” She bit her bottom lip, obviously trying to think of something. I wasn’t so bad to have lunch with, right? Shit, she probably still thought I was a dick.

  “Look, I’m not the same—”

  “Yoga!” she all but shouted, and quickly glanced around us. Students and some teachers were watching our exchange with interest.

  I raised a brow and crossed my arms over my chest. “You and Brooke do yoga through lunch?”

  She clutched her bag to her chest and nodded. “Yes?” She shook her head. “I mean yes we do.”

  Smiling, I shrugged. “That’s good. I don’t mind yoga.”

  Her gorgeous eyes widened. “You can’t.” She rubbed at the back of her neck.

  “Why?” I questioned slowly.

  “Um…” She coughed, and again glanced around quickly. She leaned in a little. God, she smelled edible. Out the corner of her mouth, she said, “We do it naked.” She groaned, like she couldn’t believe that lie just left her mouth.

  “Naked?” I questioned, my lips twitching instead of laughing my ass off like I wanted to.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I could do that.”

  Hell yes I could do that. Naked yoga with Reagan would be a delight. One where I’d have to try to keep my hands to myself… so maybe it was a nightmare because I wasn’t sure she’d be happy with my wandering hands.

  At least not yet.

  Not until I won her over.

  Until I proved to her I wasn’t a prick.

  “No, sorry, it’s, um, women only.”

  “Just you and Brooke?”

  She cleared her throat. “A-and sometimes Heather.”

  “The librarian?” I’d met her briefly after assembly, and suddenly I was shuddering. Heather was in her late sixties, had a mullet and hairy legs.

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  “Right.” I chuckled. “I get the feeling you just don’t want to have lunch with me.”

  She laughed, sobered, and then forced a laugh again. Yeah, Reagan was nervous, and I swear if she looked around
again, as if she were after someone to save her, I was going to spank her ass. My company wasn’t that bad. While I liked her being nervous, I didn’t want her to feel like she had to run from me or get someone there to distract my attention so she could escape.

  “It’s not that,” she mumbled, but I still caught it.

  “Then what is it?”

  She sighed. “Fine. We’ll be friends. Okay? Now I really have to get to… um….”

  “Yoga?”

  “Yes. Yoga.”

  “Naked yoga.” I smirked.

  A blush lit her cheeks and she cringed. “That’s right.”

  “But we’re parting as friends?” I was happy with that. It was better than nothing. So I pushed a little. “And if we’re friends, we can exchange numbers.”

  Her eyes flashed wide. “Why?” she shrieked, then slammed her lips shut.

  “Carter,” I heard, and I wanted to groan in pain. “You waited for me. That’s so sweet,” Elena said, appearing out of nowhere.

  “Ah.” It was my turn to try and think of something to say.

  Elena curled her hands around my bicep and I wanted to push them away. “Are you coming to lunch? We can do some catching up.”

  “Actually—”

  “Great!” Reagan shouted. I narrowed my gaze at her. She’d better not leave me. Then she smiled. “That’s a brilliant idea. I have to head off…” She backed up. “Things to do….” She backed up again. “Have a nice lunch.” Then she turned and dashed away.

  Elena snorted. “She’s weirder now than she was back in the day. Come on.” She smiled and led me toward the teachers’ lounge. I had seen it on the quick tour I had after assembly. “It’s been so long.” Elena giggled, and I cringed. “Are you in town a while?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. I was actually moving back, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “That’s great,” she purred.

  Christ.

  We entered, and right away I noticed Brooke, Reagan’s friend and colleague, talking to Tom by the coffee machine. Stepping away, I wiggled my arm free. “I’m just getting a coffee. Do you want one?” I asked Elena, even when I didn’t want to. I was polite after all.

  “Sure. I’ll grab you some food and we’ll meet at the table.”

  “Thanks,” I said half-heartedly over my shoulder, already moving toward Brooke.

  “Carter, are you enjoying your time here?” Tom asked as I stopped beside them. Brooke eyed me up and down with a smile on her lips.

  “I am. Thanks again for having me.” I nodded. Looking to Brooke, I said, “I thought you were having lunch with Reagan and doing naked yoga?”

  She froze, her wide eyes comical. Tom thumped his forehead and then shook his head, while Brooke stuttered, “Y-yeah, um, naked yoga.”

  “Don’t you do it every lunch? Reagan said you did, which was why she couldn’t have lunch in here.”

  Tom sighed, tipping his head back he gazed at the ceiling and muttered, “I seriously need to get her head checked.”

  “Yes.” Brooke nodded. She put her coffee down. “Can’t believe I forgot about… naked yoga?”

  “That’s what Reagan said.”

  She laughed. “Right. I’ll just, ah, go and grab some food for us both, to uh, keep us sustained for…”

  “Naked yoga,” I supplied.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Excuse me then.” She went to shift around us.

  “Brooke?” I called.

  “Yes?”

  “Reagan didn’t get a chance to give me her number before she had to go. I don’t suppose you could give it to me?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and then said, “You want her number?”

  Why was it so hard to believe?

  I nodded.

  Tom cleared his throat. “Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

  I chuckled. “Yes.”

  Very sure, I am.

  Jesus, I sound like Yoda.

  Chapter Four

  Reagan

  Naked yoga? What had I been thinking? No, what had Carter been thinking wanting lunch with me in the first place? I could seriously slap myself. Naked yoga. What the hell? It was all his fault, putting me on the spot like that. It was his fault my brain fried from shock, so I just said the first thing that popped into my head.

  I groaned, hitting my forehead, and then I rested my head on the top of Brooke’s desk.

  Naked yoga?

  Why did that pop in my head in the first place? Maybe I’d been thinking about his body at the time and how flexible football had probably made him.

  Yes, it was all Carter’s fault.

  And he remembered me back in high school?

  Who? What? When? How? Why?

  My brain either just farted or I’d finally lost it.

  Again, all because of Carter Anthony… but seriously, how could he remember me when we never spoke? We never hung out in the same crowd.

  He was high, I was low.

  He was new, I was old.

  He was…? What in the damnation am I going on about?

  Was it too early to start drinking?

  Rattled, I needed a drink to calm my nerves. Carter Anthony had obviously rattled me.

  Damn me for not asking how he knew me back then. It should have been my first question, but he’d sent me bonkers.

  When the door suddenly opened, I quickly straightened in the chair, pretending I was doing yoga. Only, because I didn’t actually know any yoga, my jazz hands appeared.

  Brooke paused, took me in, and burst out laughing.

  She walked in, still laughing, and placed a tray of food on her desk. I grabbed a chocolate croissant and bit into it, chewing while she gained her composure.

  “J-jazz hands?” She cackled. One arm went across her stomach while she placed the other on the desk and leaned into it.

  “When you’re ready.” I waved my goodness around in the air. “Laugh it up while I slowly die of humiliation.”

  “Oh,” she gasped. “God. I can’t breathe.”

  “Good,” I harrumphed.

  “Okay.” She inhaled deeply. “All right. I’m good.”

  “So…,” I drew out. “Can we move up burying me to, say… about now?”

  She grinned. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with naked yoga, would it?”

  I gasped, stood, and banged the table with my hands, squishing the croissant in the process. “Who told you?” I demanded.

  She snorted out another quick laugh. “Your Carter came up to me and wondered why I wasn’t in here doing naked yoga with you.”

  I groaned and smacked my forehead with the squished croissant. Great, just great. I probably had chocolate all over my forehead and it would look like shit. “Was anyone around when he said this?”

  “Only Tom.”

  “Good.” I nodded, and took a bite of the squashed croissant. I mumbled around my mouthful, which wasn’t a pretty sight, “At least Tom already knows I’m crazy.”

  “That he does.”

  “What did you say to Carter?”

  “I told him I was heading here, but I had to grab us some sustenance.”

  Nodding, I dropped back down into her seat. “Good.”

  “You do know he realizes you’re full of it, right?”

  Slumping in the chair, I closed my eyes. “Yes.”

  “Why would you say it?”

  Opening my eyes, I told her, “Because he was freaking me out.”

  “How?”

  So, I started from the time he walked into the classroom, to Elena showing up and mentioning how we all went to school together. “Then he said he remembered me from high school.” I nodded to her shocked look. “I know. It wasn’t something I was prepared for. I told you how we’d never spoken, hung out or… anything during our teen years. Hearing him say that confused me and my brain shut down. He wanted to have lunch to talk. I panicked and said… well, you know.”

  “Why did you panic and not want to have lunch
with him?”

  With a sigh, I shrugged. “I don’t know. The thought of sitting and eating with him makes me nervous. I probably would have choked on my food or done something else stupid. It was best to run.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm? Why hmm?”

  “I think he likes you.”

  I scoffed, snorted, and then laughed like a mad woman. Maybe it wasn’t me who was crazy, but Brooke. After calming, I asked, “Are you feeling okay?”

  Brooke glared and pulled out the chair opposite her desk, sitting in it. “I’m totally fine. You can’t live in your little bubble of insanity forever. Carter Anthony likes you.”

  “Stop saying that please,” I whispered.

  “Ree-ree.” Brooke sighed. “Why do you like to live in denial land?”

  “It’s safer that way. I can’t get hurt then. Anyway, Carter told me himself that we were friends.”

  “Good.” She nodded. “That’s a start. At least now you won’t kill me when I tell you I gave him your number.”

  My precious croissant dropped to the floor.

  By the time I’d made it home, my nerves were eating at my insides. Heck, I was even afraid of my phone. It sat on the kitchen counter while I stared at it like it had some decaying disease.

  Why was I so scared Carter would text me? All I could put it down to was his attention wasn’t the norm for me. In turn, it unnerved me, a lot.

  I’d dated. Only a few times admittedly, but I’d had a man’s attention. Only those guys were different to Carter. I wasn’t one to stereotype, but to put it in a way my brain understood, the men in my past were nerds. Cute nerds who made me happy, but in the end, things never worked out.

  Carter was the hottest man who had ever wanted my number, wanted to talk to me… and Brooke saying he liked me wasn’t doing me any good. It got my hopes up, but I had to remain realistic.

  Carter Anthony was out of my league.

  If I started jumping to conclusions, I would most likely make a fool out of myself. All he could possibly want from spending time with me was to make a friend while he was in town. I’d heard he wasn’t sticking around forever, he was here for a year while his team promoted the new gridiron stadium. Then he’d move back home.