Fumbled Love

Home > Other > Fumbled Love > Page 8
Fumbled Love Page 8

by Lila Rose


  Whoa.

  I was a mystery woman?

  But for all they knew, I could have been part of Carter’s family.

  “I can’t read it.” I shook my head and stepped back from the table, then laughed nervously. “Wait until they find out we’re just friends. They’ll look like fools.”

  Brooke hummed in the back of her throat. “How about you go and ring your parents to tell them you’re bringing your”—she used air quotes with her fingers for the next word out of her mouth— “friend for dinner.”

  “Yeah, I’ll do that. Good thinking.” I nodded, and then turned to head to my bedroom.

  Stupid reporters.

  Involving me in Carter’s life like that.

  Poor guy was probably embarrassed.

  Though, it wasn’t a very good photo. I doubted anyone could really tell it was me. If no one said anything to me on Monday, I knew I was in the clear and then I’d breathe easy.

  Picking up the phone from my bedside table, I dialed in my parents’ number.

  “Ree-ree, what’s my girl up to?” Mom answered.

  “Mom, can I come to dinner tonight?”

  “Of course you can. Sunday night is roast night, and you know there’s always a lot.”

  “Good because I have a friend who’d like to come as well.”

  “Brooke is always welcome, you know that.”

  Clearing my throat, I admitted, “It’s not Brooke. His name’s Carter—”

  Silence for a beat and then, “Oh my God. Oh my God. My girl is bringing a boy?”

  “A friend who happens to be a guy, yes.”

  “Of course he can come. Is there anything he doesn’t like to eat? Oh, I’ll have to bring out the good china. This is so exciting. Would six be okay? Wait until I tell your father. He’s been worried about you. We both have.”

  “Mom!” I shouted to get her attention before she rattled off more.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Promise me that you and Dad will be on your best behavior? Do not mention in front of him about us dating or that you think we’d look good together. None of that. Let’s just have a nice, normal dinner.”

  “Sure. Totally. Can’t wait. See you then,” she sang, then hung up.

  I hit my forehead with the receiver and groaned. She agreed way too quickly for my liking.

  Dinner was going to be hell.

  Carter

  I felt like a dick for inviting myself over to her folks’ home for dinner, but I didn’t see any other way to be able to spend some time with her. She was too skittish that morning after the game, and I blamed my family for not telling her who they were. Also, I couldn’t exactly say, “Hey, you mind if I come over to your place to get to know each other so eventually, we can move to the next level and become an item?”

  Hell, I sounded like I was back in high school.

  I wasn’t even sure if she’d be interested in me in that way. Yeah, she got flustered around me, but was it because she was attracted to me?

  Then again, from what my brother Casper told me, she sure did like me in my uniform.

  A smile tipped up my lips. Then I lost it at my next thought.

  Or could it be she liked all my teammates in their uniform?

  Do not go there, Carter, or you’ll kill the other players.

  Why did Reagan Wild make me violent?

  While I’d been possessive before, it was never to the extent of wanting to harm my friends to the point of bloodshed. Maybe it was just that the other women weren’t important enough to some part of my brain, the part where Reagan was. She had me by my balls, brain, and body.

  It near gutted me when she’d told my family we were just friends, like that was all she saw us as, or perhaps she was worried that friendship was all I could ever want from her. I continued to overthink her reaction to me, her responses. Maybe she was scared in some way that, hell, maybe she thought I could hurt her. I hope it wasn’t that though. I’d never hurt her intentionally.

  My overthinking was driving me insane.

  What I did know was that I knew nothing. I was grasping at straws when it came to Reagan. A woman’s mind was like the Rubik’s cube for people like me. Something I couldn’t for the life of me figure out.

  However, I was hoping I would get more of an insight into Reagan’s life by meeting her parents. Also, I wanted to make a good impression, and by what Reagan said, her dad was already a fan, which would be an advantage.

  Pulling my car up to the curb in front of Reagan’s house, I took it all in. It seemed like a good neighborhood. At least there weren’t any drug dealings or hookers on any corner. I noticed as I climbed out of my Hummer, the street was quiet. Reagan’s house was a small brick one, with a cute flower garden out the front. I could totally see her in a tee and shorty shorts kneeling under the warm sun tending to her flower garden. Hell, do not go there or little Carter will perk up, and Reagan will open the door to me with a stiffy.

  With a few deep breaths, I calmed myself and stepped up onto the front porch. A cute setting was arranged with two wicker chairs and a round wicker table in between.

  It was pretty damn sweet. Like Reagan.

  As I just raised my hand to knock on the door, it flew open.

  Reagan stood there waving a shoe around. “I lost a shoe. Sorry, I should have been waiting out in front. I swear my mom’s dog, Fozzie, who I minded for a while, stole the thing and put it under my couch just to peeve me off. He was vindictive like that.” She stepped out after placing her shoe on and turned to lock the door.

  “I’m kind of early anyway.” I’d been hoping to see inside Reagan’s domain.

  “All good. We should get going. You’ll probably want the night over with as quickly as possible anyway.” She laughed, but it wasn’t her normal one. It seemed forced and nervous. She made her way past me, down the footpath and to my car before I’d even stepped off the porch. Shaking my head and smirking, I quickly jogged down to the car.

  Pressing the button to unlock it, I stepped up to Reagan’s side and opened her door for her. I had to bite my bottom lip and look down so she didn’t see how amused I was at her wide eyes and gaping mouth. Too damn cute.

  “Reagan,” I called before she got in.

  “Y-yes?”

  “Relax, okay?”

  She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t. You don’t know them like I do.”

  I smiled. “It’ll be fine.”

  Her eyes became a little frantic. “We need a signal.” She grabbed the front of my tee and shook me a little. “Yes!” she cried. “It’s a good idea. If you’re feeling uncomfortable at any time you can… I don’t know… scratch your nose? No, wait. That’ll seem too obvious. Dad likes those 007 movies. He might look for a sign like that.” She pinched her bottom lip with her free hand while she thought of something. All I wanted to do was laugh my ass off and kiss her soundly.

  Regret filled me. I wished I’d have known her in high school. I’d missed out on a lot. I was sure of it.

  I swiped the thought away, refusing to live in the past. Instead, I’d concentrate on how we were back in each other’s lives. It was meant to happen. I was meant to have a chance with her.

  Christ. I hoped I was.

  She glanced up, grinning big. “I’ve got it. Lift your foot up to rest on your knee and then tap your foot three times. That will look normal enough.” She released my tee to smack my stomach and then froze. Slowly, she shifted her gaze down to her hand and quickly pulled it back as if it were on fire. “Sorry, ah, I didn’t mean that.” Another nervous laugh. “We’d better get going.” She slid into the seat and pulled her door from my grasp to shut it herself.

  I walked around the back of the car so she wouldn’t see me laughing.

  Chapter Eleven

  Reagan

  Stop thinking about his hard abs. If you walk into your parents’ home and they see the look of desire on your face, it’ll go downhill from there.

  Mom had alwa
ys read me too well.

  In fact, she’d known the night I lost my virginity. I’d made it home by my curfew, which was good for an eighteen-year-old with a curfew of 11:00 p.m. At first, I’d thought they were both in bed. The house had been dark when I unlocked the front door and snuck in with my heels in my hand.

  Then boom.

  A light flicked on, and I’d screamed, turning to find Mom sitting in the corner chair in the living room. She had, at the time, my large lizard sitting on her lap and she was stroking it while her gaze ran over me.

  Then she’d quickly stood, flung my poor lizard to the chair, and cried, “You had sex. Oh my God. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. She’s been deflowered.”

  She didn’t stop there.

  “Herb,” she yelled for Dad.

  “Mom, I swear to God, if you tell him in front of me, I’ll disown you and hook up with a drug dealer.”

  Her mouth snapped closed. “Fine. And a mother always knows these things. Well, there’s also the fact you have your top inside out.” She started to walk toward me. “Now, you know your first time is never the best time.”

  “Mom!” I’d snapped, turning redder by the second.

  “Especially with a boy your age. They don’t know how to please a woman or that women have many spots—”

  “I’m going to bed,” I’d announced quickly, and made a run for it.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” she’d called. I’d tried my best to dodge her, but the woman had been persistent. It was one of those moments where a therapy session was needed, after a good session of rocking back and forth in a corner.

  When we pulled up in front of my parents’ place, Carter was already out and on his way to open my door. But I was nervous. I didn’t want him to think I thought it was a date. Just the thought of him and my parents in the same place was enough for my hands to start sweating.

  So again, once I was out and in front of him, I asked, “Are you really sure?”

  He chuckled. “Yes.”

  With a sigh, I nodded and led the way up the path to the front door. Usually, I’d just walk in, but I’d decided it was best to knock as a warning, hoping they wouldn’t be doing anything… I didn’t know what exactly, just anything they usually did. Then again, I remembered they knew we were coming and surely, they would be on their best behavior. I checked my phone. It was five minutes past the time we had to be there.

  So, with another sigh, I turned the handle and stepped in.

  I should have knocked.

  Mom was standing on the other side of the couch half crouched down, and Dad was… I didn’t want to know honestly, but I couldn’t see him.

  I was just about to open my mouth when Mom snapped, “Lick it. Just lick it.”

  “Mom!” I cried when I realized she had a hold of Dad’s head in front of her.

  She straightened and looked over her shoulder. “Oh, hi.”

  “Breathe,” I heard Carter say from my side with a light voice.

  How on earth could he find that scene funny?

  “Let Dad up. What are you trying to get him…? No! Actually, I do not want to know.” I shook my head again and again.

  Carter wheezed a little.

  Dad snorted and poked his head up. “Honey, it’s not what it looks like—”

  “Dad, I don’t want to know.”

  “Ree, don’t be silly.” Mom rolled her eyes. “Your dad spilled something, and I’ve just cleaned the house top to bottom. I was making him clean it up. He wasn’t going down on me.”

  I groaned, loudly, and then slapped my forehead.

  “Don’t,” I begged. “Please don’t mention that action again in front of me.”

  “What? Cleaning?” Dad laughed at his own joke and stood. It was then he finally fully took in Carter. “Holy fuck.”

  “Herb!” Mom scolded. “We don’t swear in front of guests.” Mom stepped around and walked toward us with her hand held out. Carter stepped just in front of me.

  They were about to touch when Dad jumped the couch, wrapped his arm around Mom’s waist, and shoved her to the side. He faced Carter, his eyes wide with… something akin to awe, maybe fear, and something else. He seemed a little pale. He placed his hands on Mom’s shoulders and shook her a little.

  “Do you know who that is?”

  “Ree’s friend?”

  “Do you know who that is?” he asked again.

  “Dad,” I said gently, easing up to their side.

  “Woman, you don’t touch greatness without washing your hands first,” Dad told Mom.

  I groaned. “Dad!” I yelled. “Stop shaking Mom.”

  He dropped his head in his hands and turned a little green.

  “Ah, sir. I’m just Carter Anthony. A friend of your daughter’s.”

  Dad teetered on his feet. I grabbed his arm.

  “Herb?”

  “Dad?”

  He blinked. “He called our daughter his friend,” he whispered to Mom, only we all heard. I glanced over my shoulder at Carter, and his lips twitched.

  “Herb, I think you need to sit down.” We led him over to a chair and sat him down. He looked up and just stared at Carter.

  Walking back over to Carter near the door, I started, “I’m so sorry about—”

  He grinned. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Mom stepped up. “I’m sorry about my husband, but you must be pretty important for him to lose it like that. I’m Elaine Wild.” Her hand came out again. Dad murmured something unintelligible. We all ignored him.

  Carter shook Mom’s hand. “Carter Anthony. I’m the quarterback to the Wolves football team.”

  Dad whimpered.

  “Ahh, now I understand.” Mom nodded. “Herb just watched your game live this morning.”

  We all glanced at my father; he was still just sitting and staring at Carter. It was even beginning to freak me out.

  “So how did you two meet?” Mom asked.

  “School,” I shot out with. “Carter came into the school I teach at and—”

  “That bastard!” Dad cried. “Tom didn’t tell me.”

  And I now understood why Tom never said anything to Dad. Dad was a big fan, one who freaked out upon meeting someone famous apparently.

  “You should call him,” I suggested, an evil smile lifting my lips. Both Mom and Carter laughed.

  “Damn right I will.” He stood and quickly stormed off into the kitchen, nearly tripping on his way because his eyes stayed glued to Carter. I figured he thought Carter would disappear on him. He sped around the corner, no doubt to snap up the phone, because in the next second, he appeared again. His eyes went back to Carter while he placed the phone against his ear.

  “I think you should be scared,” I muttered out the corner of my mouth to Carter. All he did was chuckle.

  “No, really. He’s even freaking me out the way he’s staring at you. He’ll probably try to have your baby next.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed. “That’s plain impossible, Reagan.” He flicked his eyes to Carter, a blush forming on his cheeks. “My daughter can have babies though.”

  Mom laughed. Carter grinned, while I cried, “Dad, you can’t just offer me up like that.”

  His hand came up. “Tom. You listen here you little fucker.”

  “Herb!” Mom snapped harshly.

  “Dad!” I cried.

  “No. You’re on my shit list. Why? You want to know why? I’ll tell you why. Guess who’s standing in my living room with my daughter after they met at your school.”

  “Well,” I tried to cut in before Dad cut Tom from his life.

  “That’s right. Carter Anthony.”

  Dear God. Dad sighed after saying Carter’s full name.

  “You had him at your school without telling me. Me! Your friend. Your buddy. What? Well, no. I could have. I didn’t freak out too bad.” Mom and I gave Dad a look. “Shit, maybe I did.” He sighed. “Fine. But you owe me big. Next time you bring the beer, even though it’s my turn.” He quickl
y hung up the phone.

  Carter stepped toward him, and Dad’s eyes widened a little. Carter’s hand came out. Dad looked down at it, up to him, and then down at it again before gripping it.

  “Good to meet you, Mr. Wild.”

  “Yes. Right. You too, son. You too. Drink? Snack? Chair? A nap?”

  Holy hell. Next, he could offer him a blowjob. I had to step in.

  “Carter would probably love a beer, Dad. And I’m sure we’re having dinner soon. Right?” I asked, turning to Mom.

  She snapped out of her dazed look at Dad, probably having never seen him act that way, and nodded. “Yes, dinner. Why don’t you and Carter have a seat, and we’ll get drinks and check on dinner, which should be ready any second now.”

  Smiling gratefully, I went over to the couch and sat down. Only I looked back to see Dad still holding Carter’s hand.

  Groaning, I said, “Dad, let go of Carter so you can get him a beer.”

  “Right. Yes.” He nodded. He dropped Carter’s hand and then, to my horror, he placed his arm around Carter’s back and led him forcefully over to the couch and helped him sit right next to me. “Stay. Beer. Talk to Reagan.” He patted Carter’s shoulder. “You know she’s single.”

  “Dad,” I hissed.

  Carter, with a humorous glint in his eyes, glanced at me. “But I thought she had a boyfriend named James Blunt.”

  Oh, crap.

  I’d forgotten about him.

  Dad snorted. “No. She’s single and ready to mingle.”

  “Jesus, Dad.”

  “What?” he asked in an innocent tone.

  “Herb, get in here,” Mom called roughly.

  “Right.” Dad nodded again and glanced from Carter to me. He gave me some type of weird look that apparently I was supposed to know what he meant. When I raised my brows in question, he scowled and then walked off in a huff.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I whispered, “It’s not too late to leave.”

  He faced me. “Hell no. I’m having the time of my life.”

  My head jerked back in shock. I narrowed my eyes. “Are you feeling okay? My dad could come back in here and offer to rub your feet next.”

 

‹ Prev