Sidelined

by Suzanne Baltsar

  She turned the invitation in her fingers and read it over before eyeing me. Her gaze gave nothing away. “Sean wants me to come?”

  I shook my head. “I want you to come. With me.”

  She rested the corner of the invitation on her chin, inspecting me up and down. For once, her silence made me nervous.

  “It’s a fund-raiser they have every year. I thought, maybe, you’d want to come with me.”

  She pursed her lips.

  “It’s a costume party, though.”

  She tilted her head. “Let me guess, you don’t like Halloween parties.”

  “I don’t, but Sean does. We get matching costumes. Last year we were Mario and Luigi.”

  “Okay. I’ll go.”

  “You will?”

  She shook at her head at me as if I didn’t have a clue. “Of course I’ll go. I like when you try. It’s pretty simple actually.”

  I fixed my hat. I didn’t think it could be simple.

  I overthought what women wanted because Alison had left me second-guessing myself and everything I knew about relationships.

  “I’ll pick you up Saturday at six-thirty?”

  “Perfect,” she said, and then a few seconds passed where we both stared at each other as if waiting for the other to speak.

  I broke first. “You heading out of here soon?”

  “No, I’ve got some stuff to do.”

  I waited.

  “We have to win tomorrow and next week to make it to the playoffs,” she said, her hands up in defense.

  “You don’t think we will?”

  “If Nate can throw past their safety and Jaylin can outrun him, we have a shot.”

  I pulled up a chair next to her to get a better look at her computer. “The safety isn’t the issue. It’s the cornerback. We’ve got to beat him first.” I grabbed her mouse to press play, the game turning back on. “See that? Twenty-two’s got some legs on him.”

  I watched the screen, but she watched me. If she was trying to make me uncomfortable, she was doing a great job. “Why are you staring at me?”

  “Because I think we make a good team.”

  “I do too.”

  We both moved, sitting much closer together than when we’d started, the sleeve of her Georgia Tech hoodie touching my arm. She was forever cold and had taken to wearing layers upon layers, even inside.

  She adjusted said layer. “I like to see your passion. Very rarely do you show it, but with this you do.”

  I nodded, and pointed to the screen. “Clearly you’ve never seen my lecture on Manifest Destiny.”

  “Riveting, I’m sure,” she said with her chin in her hand.

  “It is. I’m telling you, I don’t consistently get asked to be class trip supervisor for nothing.”

  She nodded sarcastically. “I bet. That’s a real honor.”

  I smirked, yanking her to me so I could kiss her temple. “Stick with me, kid, I’ll show you the ropes.”

  CHAPTER

  22

  Charlie

  Connor was right. Washburn’s cornerback was the player who gave us a run for our money, but we came out on top, giving us good momentum going into the last regular-season game. One more win and we were headed to the playoffs, and, I hoped, into the state finals. But instead of falling into my old pattern with him, I refused to sit anywhere close to Connor while celebrating at the Public. I made sure to keep the table between us, and didn’t return his flirtations, including the quiet invitation to meet him by the bathroom. I didn’t go.

  Like the lady I was.

  I slipped out early to boos from the coaches, but I needed to get home to put some kind of costume together. With Sonja already asleep and Piper busy with Blake getting ready for the brewery opening, I had no friends to turn to, only the Internet. It gave me lots of wacky ideas, but I picked one that wouldn’t need much work.

  Although I hadn’t realized the reaction from Connor would be so positive when I opened up the door Saturday night.

  He pushed the dark aviators from his face, his eyes slowly perusing me from my bandanna and curled hair, to my red lipstick, and then to my legs in my skinny jeans. He whistled between his teeth, and I felt the sound reverberate through my body, but I couldn’t focus on myself when he stood in front of me. Pure sex in the male form.

  I tugged on his fake leather jacket, my thumb rubbing over the Top Gun patch on his left shoulder. The V-neck white T-shirt clung to his chest perfectly. I had difficulty looking anywhere else, but after approximately a year and a half of ogling, I raised my eyes.

  “I didn’t know I had a thing for Rosie the Riveter,” he said breathily.

  I wrapped myself up in a coat, scarf, hat, and mittens. “I’ve always known I had a thing for Maverick.”

  He licked his lips—it was positively sinful, and I had to actually shake my head to focus on locking the door behind me. But just as I put my key in my purse, he had me gathered up in his arms, his mouth on mine. I gasped in surprise and he took advantage, his tongue finding mine, but I quickly caught on. I wound my arms around him, under the jacket. Even with my winter gear on, I melted into the heat radiating from his body. His hands—gentle yet strong—memorized the curves of my face, and I sighed, wanting much more than what a kiss outside my door could give me.

  He released me with one more sweet peck before backing away.

  “Where’s Sonja?” he asked, casually reaching out to take my hand.

  “She’s with Bear. His mom wanted to go to the ballet, and he got tickets for the three of them. I didn’t realize he was so cultured.”

  He let out a low, teasing laugh. “You mean a pretentious bastard.”

  “Sounds like you may be a bit jealous of his world knowledge.”

  “Nah,” he said, opening the front passenger door for me. “I’m okay without tutus and classical music. I’ll stick with beer and hot wings for a good time.”

  “Simpleton,” I said as I got into the truck. Sean was seated in the back. “Hey.”

  “Hi!” He slapped his thigh a few times. “You’re coming to the party!”

  “Yep, I am.”

  “I’m the Iceman!” He pointed to his green flight suit.

  “I know. You look great.”

  Connor hopped in behind the wheel with a stupid smile, and he pointed to his lips, motioning for me to check mine. I pulled down the overhead mirror to see my lipstick smudged all over my mouth like a clown.

  “You jerk,” I said, licking my fingers to scrub them over my skin.

  “Worth it,” he said, and pulled away from the curb. Sean leaned forward toward us, and Connor glanced over his shoulder. “Is your seat belt on?”

  “Yes,” he answered quickly before tapping me on the shoulder. “Are you my brother’s girlfriend?”

  I froze, the red massacre still all over my face. “I . . . um . . .”

  “That’s a personal question,” Connor said.

  “You kissed and held hands. I kiss Ava and hold her hand and she’s my girlfriend. Is she your girlfriend, Nono?”

  Connor cleared his throat, and it only made me feel nominally better that he didn’t have an answer either.

  “Charlie and I are friends,” he said after a while.

  “I don’t kiss my friends,” Sean pointed out.

  I snapped the mirror shut, holding my tongue about what kind of friends we were, and turned in my seat to ask Sean about Ava. He told me she worked in a pet store and sometimes helped out with dog grooming. He also told me about the dog he’d tried to get Connor to adopt from Ava’s store.

  “No way,” Connor said, briefly looking at me. “It was this little yappy thing. If I’m getting a dog, it’ll be a man’s dog.”

  I huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ya know.” He held his elbows out. “Something big and intimidating, named Diesel or Tank. Not a little white rodent named Ginger.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I could see you with a Chihuahua or Pomeran
ian. You could carry it in a backpack.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I liked her,” Sean said.

  “I know you did, buddy. But you already have your guinea pig. And since you’re going to be moving out on your own soon, I think Bart is good enough for now. Right?”

  It took Sean a couple moments to agree, but he did, and my heart softened with every conversation I witnessed between Connor and his brother. He was so sweet and patient, it was hard to remember he was the same guy who used to fight me at every turn. I could picture him with a bunch of kids, throwing them around the way he did Liam, teaching them how to throw a football, and tenderly tucking them in at night.

  I’d thought about marriage and children the way I’d thought about winning the lottery—that it would change my life, but the chances of it happening were slim. Didn’t deter me from dreaming; and right now Connor seemed like a dream guy.

  When we arrived at the center, Sean ran ahead, leaving me with Maverick. He escorted me inside and kept his arm around me the whole time as if we were a couple. Ironic, since Sean made sure to introduce me to everyone as Charlie Gibb, Otters football coach and Connor’s friend.

  “Kissing friend,” Sean told Ava behind his hand.

  After a lap around the party, Connor and I spent most of the night hanging by the dessert table, watching Sean dance with Ava—and a few other girls, to his big brother’s chagrin, but mostly with Ava. I learned that Connor and Sean had a standing bro date every Sunday afternoon, and that Connor was much closer to his family than he’d led me to believe, including random dinners and babysitting duty for Siobhan. His youngest sister, Brigid, lived in Vegas, and he’d flown there to move her in over the summer. Being an only child with a relatively solitary existence, hearing stories about the McGuire family had me wishing I could experience one of their loud and chaotic Christmases.

  We waited until the silent auction items were called and the costume contest winners announced before heading out. Sean wanted to stay longer, and Ava’s mom volunteered to take him home, so when we got into the truck our sudden isolation hit us at the same time.

  “You want to call it a night?” he asked, his eyes giving away his eagerness more than his voice.

  “No.”

  “You want to come over?”

  “Yes.”

  His only acknowledgment was to start the engine. We rode back to his house in silence, and if there was ever a time I wished I could see inside his head, it was now. After this week of him trying to get back into my good graces, I hoped he understood that I wasn’t looking for a frenemy with benefits type of situation. I wanted something more, and I wanted it with him.

  Connor lived by Audubon Park, and the neighborhood was filled with single-family homes, all adorned with pumpkins and Halloween decorations at this time of year. The last time I’d been at his house, I’d had too much going through my mind to take any real notice of it, especially after our spat. But now I had the time to admire his cute little house with beige siding and a maroon door. The neighbor to the left had an elaborate scene in the yard with inflatable witches, black cats, and a cauldron. Connor had one sad-looking ghost on a stake in the grass. When I pointed it out to him, he said, “Mrs. Hamil next door felt I lacked spirit.” I laughed as he unlocked the front door and opened it for me. “What? You don’t seem to be brimming with it either.”

  “You’re wrong there.” I stepped into the small foyer with light hardwood floors and set my purse down on a green table. “Piper, Sonja, and I are carving pumpkins tomorrow while drinking pumpkin lattes and eating pumpkin roll. I’m filled with the spirit.”

  He took my coat and every single one of my winter-weather accessories and put them in the closet next to us. He offered me a drink, but I shook my head, and he turned his palm up to me. I laced my fingers with his as he led me past the kitchen and down the hall to a room painted dark yellow, which I thought surprisingly bright for Connor.

  “Did you pick this color?”

  He shook his head, lightly gripping my hips, and I didn’t have a chance to ask any follow-up questions about any other idiosyncrasies, such as the random painting of a daffodil in the living room or the frilly curtains in the kitchen, because his lips were on my neck. Every other time we’d been intimate, we’d been rushed and confined, but this time Connor was utterly leisurely.

  He took his time, learning every place I liked to be kissed, every ticklish spot on my skin, as he removed all of my clothing before running his hands over my hair.

  “I like you all dressed up, but I like you better without any of that,” he said, tugging at my hair.

  “Even without the lipstick?”

  “Even without the lipstick,” he said, before gently pushing me to his mattress. With his T-shirt and jeans still on, he leaned over me, his weight on his hands.

  “You going to catch up or leave me here naked and cold?”

  “Give me a minute, you’ll warm up.” That cocky smirk slanted his lips a second before he was kissing me, his mouth and hands moving lower and lower. I tried to pull him up by his shirt, but it was no use, and I kicked at his shoulder. When he looked up at me with raised brows, I fumbled my words. “I, uh, I’ve never . . .”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve never . . . ?”

  I nervously tucked my hair behind my ear and surreptitiously brought my knees in together. “I can’t have an orgasm from—”

  He cut me off with a sudden slashing motion. “You’ve never come from someone going down on you?”

  “No.” I pushed myself up toward the headboard, but he yanked me back down by the ankles.

  “Then they’ve been doing it wrong.” He sank down, his eyes burning blue.

  He must’ve felt my tension, the slight movement of my knees fighting him, because he loosened his hold on me and held on to my hips. “Try to relax. I promise you’ll like it.”

  Those were the last words I heard from him for minutes. Hours. Days. Eternities.

  I lost track of time, and of how many times I took the Lord’s name in vain—God forgive me—and by the time I finally glanced over at his discarded watch on the night table, it was almost one in the morning.

  Connor, with all of his perfect muscles, smiled over at me, all lazy and satisfied, and tugged on my index finger. I lifted my arm.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “As soon as I get feeling back in my body, I’ll leave.”

  “Leave?” He sat up, his abdominals rippling.

  I forced my attention up. “Yeah.”

  “But you look so good in my bed.” He made me roll over, draping my arm across his torso.

  “How long can I stay?”

  “As long as you want.” His fingers found my hair. “I’m not going to make you leave in the middle of the night.” Seconds ticked by, our soundtrack the sound of his arm moving against the sheets as he petted my head. “I wouldn’t make you leave even if it was the middle of the day.”

  “Look at you. Talkin’ all sweet to me. It’s almost like you like me.”

  “Just a little.”

  Between the sound of his breathing and the soothing rise and fall of his chest, I fell asleep quickly, dreaming of a football game where everyone dressed in Halloween costumes. But woke up just after Frankenstein scored because I was freezing.

  I sat up and looked around. Connor was fast asleep, burrowed in the cover with one of the windows open a crack. I jumped out of bed and closed the window before taking the liberty of looking through the closet for a sweatshirt.

  My rustling woke him up. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m cold. I’m looking for something to wear.”

  He got up and turned the light on before pulling out sweats and a hoodie. I promptly put them on, noting he was still naked.

  “Your window was open,” I said.

  “I know. I like it open.”

  “Why? You know it’s, like, negative degrees out, right?”

  “It’s not negative degrees. And I lik
e it a little cooler. I’m always hot.”

  “But you were buried under the covers.” I pointed to the bed. “Why don’t you sleep without them instead of opening the window?”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Because I like being completely covered.”

  “Don’t.” I stopped him from opening the window again. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  We squared off, and eventually he gave up with a pitiful shrug. “I have to sleep under the covers. I need to be completely covered.”

  “Why?” I laughed. “You afraid something is going to get you?”

  He waved me off and flipped the light off before getting back into bed.

  “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy. You think a lizard man is going to get your ankle if it’s exposed?”

  “No, I don’t believe in monsters. I’m not five.” He yanked the covers up to his waist. “I like to be covered. I don’t like body parts to stick out. Just in case.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Yeah, well, you sleep like you’re dead. Like a vampire.”

  I giggled. “You should probably cover up then so I don’t get you.”

  He grumbled and turned away from me, but I wrapped myself around him, finding space for my arm under his. “This is really backward. You should be spooning me, but I get it, you need protection.”

  “I hate you,” he said, finding my fingers.

  “My gram always said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

  He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm, then placed it against his chest. “That’s not how we play. Now, shut up so I can sleep.”

  I closed my eyes, a smile on my face.

  CHAPTER

  23

  Charlie

  The next morning, Connor made us egg-white omelets for breakfast and invited me to hang out with him and Sean, but I had my day with the girls planned already. Although saying no to his puppy-dog face was pretty hard. I didn’t want my time with him to stop. I’d gotten a small taste, and I’d become greedy.

  Connor drove me home and walked me to the front door, where he left me with a kiss that curled my toes. I swore I could feel the imprint of his hand and the scent of his sheets on me as I stepped into the shower. It was all washing away, but I still had the memories, and they made me smile. Like when he’d tucked me into his side with his fingers in my hair as if I was meant to be there. As if the crook of his arm had been created just for me.