Something Real (Atlanta Outlaws)

by Aja Cole

  "To answer your question, Shayla, since my son derailed us...there's this small French bistro that I'd love to visit while I'm here. Do you enjoy French cuisine?"

  "I can't say that I've had much of it, but I'm down to try almost anything."

  "Perfect. I'll let the chef know that we'll be by." My mom turns to me, putting a fond hand to my cheek. "Always nice to see you, son. Now, if you two will excuse me, I need a nap. I look forward to getting to know you better while I'm here, Shayla."

  "Me too. Do you need help taking anything to your room?" Shayla asks.

  "Nope, I pack light and Dylan can take my big bag up later." She backs up to the doorway. "Let's say 6 for dinner?"

  "See you then." I salute her and she leaves us in the kitchen. When I hear the door shut upstairs, I turn to Shayla.

  "First of all, your mom doesn't look a day over 30." She starts, eyes wide. "I mean, damn, she could be one of your sisters."

  "It's the deal she made with the devil for her cooking skills." I joke. "How do you feel?"

  "Still a little nervous about tonight. I don't know what to expect, but she's definitely different than the last mom I met."

  I pull her into a hug and she rests her head on my chest. This easy affection is something I'm getting used to, probably a little too much. We haven't talked any further about everything and I get the feeling that we're both content to let things take course until it's over.

  "It's adorable that you're so nervous, but you only have to make it through dinner and then my mom is visiting a friend for a few days before she comes back here. It'll be fine, you'll see."

  For the most part, dinner goes off without a hitch. My mom and Shayla are getting along well and the food is great, but I can tell that my mom wants to talk to me. I'm hoping she doesn't say anything in front of Shayla, though. I don't want her to be any more anxious about things than she already is.

  While we wait for dessert, Shayla excuses herself from the table to go the restroom, and I know my mom's going to use the time with her gone to say everything that she's been holding back.

  I finish the little that's left of my wine in preparation.

  "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

  "To get married? We're not doing that immediately."

  "For something serious." She clarifies, her long hair falling over her shoulder. She swats at it in annoyance and I hide a smile. She's so used to having it up in the kitchen, I don't know why she even pretends that she likes it in any style other than a bun. "It wasn't that long ago that you were in love with a married woman, you know. And it worries me that you've never mentioned her to me. How could you be ready to marry a woman that you've been hiding from your family for no good reason, hm? Have you met hers? What happens if you're traded, will she follow you? I don't know if you've thought this through."

  "Do you want me to answer anything or..." I trail off, and she narrows her eyes at me. I get the feeling that if she had her wooden spoon, she'd pop me with it.

  "Don't be a smart-ass, Dylan Lloyd."

  "I'm not, but you asked so many questions that I don't know what you want me to answer first."

  "Any of them will suffice."

  "I didn't mention it because I wanted to stay in our bubble a little longer. I don't know if she'll follow me if I'm traded, but I hope so. I haven't met her family, either, because it's been about us and not anyone else. And it has nothing to do with what happened before."

  "It has everything to do with what happened. You damn near kill yourself after that breakup, disappointing me, your father and everyone that loves you - and now you pop up with a fiancee? And everything's just okay again?"

  "I'm sorry that you're so disappointed in me."

  "Don't be obtuse." She scolds. "I was disappointed that you chose to cope the way you did, and I was worried about you. I'm your mother, what the hell did you expect? Aside from that, I am incredibly proud of you and I always have been. Do not twist my words and make it seem otherwise." Then, Dawn Hunter, gets misty-eyed. I can clearly see the moisture in her eyes and she sniffs, looking at the ceiling. "All I want is to know that you're happy. When you're in pain, I'm in pain. So excuse me for worrying that there's something else going on."

  "Mom." Now I feel like a dick. "You're right. I'm being an ass. I appreciate you being worried about me, but honestly...this is the best that I've felt in a long time. Being with her makes me feel better than I've felt in a long time. I don't have all the answers right now, but that's what I do know."

  It's the truth.

  Shayla...does something to me. The chemistry is amazing, I can laugh and talk with her and...she talks to me like I'm just Dylan.

  Not Dylan Hunter, the athlete.

  Not Dylan, from the exaggerated stories.

  Nothing else, she just makes me feel like...me.

  "Then that's all I can ask for." She reaches across the table, covering my hand with hers. "So far, she's lovely and if she makes you happy, then she's alright with me."

  "Thanks, Ma."

  "Always, darlin'."

  I stand up when Shayla comes back to the table, helping her with her chair before taking my own. The waiter comes back with our apple tarts right on time.

  "Shayla, I've really enjoyed tonight and I'm happy to know that my son is with someone as charming as I am." No sign of the misty-eyed Dawn anymore, she's back to her usual witty self.

  "You raised a wonderful man, Dawn," Shayla says, catching my eye. "Any woman would be lucky to have him."

  For tonight, I'm letting myself believe that Shayla is that woman.

  Because she's rapidly becoming someone that I really don't want to let go.

  My mom's questions make me think about the what-ifs and what I really want. I think about everything that I wish this was, and I start to wonder if maybe it can be something more.

  I need to talk to Shayla about how I really feel, because I don't want to pretend anymore. I want this to be real. I want us to give it an actual shot. Yeah, we can't go straight to being actually engaged, but I want to see what this can really be.

  I just hope I'm not deluding myself and that she wants me, too.

  18

  Shayla

  I'm stepping off the stairs when the front door opens and Dylan comes in with his practice bag. I can smell his soap from here, and I can only imagine how good it would smell if I was right up against his skin.

  "Hey."

  "Hey." He says, locking the door behind him.

  "I was just about to make some lunch, you want something?"

  "I could go for some food." Dropping his bag to the floor, he pulls his hoodie over his head and his tee clings to it, lifting the hem to tease me with his taut abs and the line of muscle on his hips.

  I could go for some him.

  I put my tongue back in my mouth and remember that I don't even know what I was going to make. My plan was to just scrounge around in the kitchen until something popped out at me.

  "What do you feel like? Simple? Something actually cooked?"

  "Simple's fine, were you gonna do sandwiches? I bought some Italian sweet bread yesterday."

  "Perfect. Grab that, I'll get the stuff from the fridge."

  We work in comfortable silence, grabbing ingredients and assembling sandwiches. Half a sub for me, and a whole sub for him. He holds out a bag of kettle chips to me and I grimace, causing him to laugh.

  "Oh yeah, I forgot you hate these."

  "I just prefer my chips to not taste so..."

  "Crunchy? Real? Perfectly salted?"

  "Boring." I correct him, taking the Doritos he gives me instead. "These, on the other hand, are amazing."

  "Unhuh," popping a chip in his mouth, he motions to the fridge. "Can you give me a pomegranate juice?"

  I oblige, taking one out for myself too and sitting at the island with him. We eat, talking a little bit about our days and Dylan tells me about practice and the trade deadlines coming up. We decide that I'll go to his next game since I h
ave been really bad about that. I'm also curious to see him play in person too and not just in the videos online that I looked at when I was first researching him. We're tidying up the kitchen and putting things away when my phone rings, but Dylan is closer.

  "Can you grab that? Just put it on speaker." My hands are currently submerged in dishwater.

  He leans against the counter by the sink with my phone held up close enough that I can speak.

  "Hello?"

  "Shayla!" The excited voice is clearly Whitney's, and I immediately grin. Last time we hung out was New Orleans and the girl knows how to find the fun, that's for sure.

  "Hey Whit, what's up?"

  "Guess what?"

  "What?" Dylan answers, smiling.

  "Dylan! Hey!" She greets him, "Did I interrupt y'all?"

  "Nah, I'm holding Shay's phone for her while she finishes up some dishes."

  "Oh! So domestic," she teases. "Anyways, I'm having a tattoo party and I want you to come."

  "A tattoo party?" Dylan and I echo.

  "Mhmm," Whit confirms, "Girls only, sorry Dyl. I'm kicking Ben out so I'm sure he'll come to yours. If you've got any other girlfriends, feel free to bring them. There's enough space and I love meeting new people."

  "My good friends pretty much moved away after college, but..." My mind wanders, "There actually is someone I can bring. What time? Do you need me to bring anything?"

  "6! There'll be food, alcohol and sharp objects. All you need to bring is yourself and an open mind."

  "Okay Whit, I'll see you tonight." I rinse my hands and dry them on a dishtowel.

  "Perfect. Bye Dylan!"

  "Bye Whitney." He ends the call for me and passes my phone. "You gonna get a tat?"

  "I don't know...I've always been too scared to just choose since they're permanent."

  "Well Whit and her people are damned good, so at least you know they won't fuck it up if you do want one." He pauses. "I think you should, though, if you want one. Don't think about anything else, just do it because you want to."

  "Wanting something doesn't mean it'll be good for me."

  "But what if it is?" His eyes bore into me and I realize that I'm close enough to touch him...if I wanted to.

  I know he's not only talking about a tattoo, and I don't have any answers for him right now. I'm not...ready. Not for this.

  Not yet.

  "I'll think about it." I step away. "Can I have Callista's number, by the way? I was thinking I'd ask her about tonight."

  With his own cell, he airdrops her number to me.

  "Knowing her, she'll love that."

  "She said y'all met through your sister?"

  "Yeah, she's engaged to my sister's ex-boyfriend. They have mutual friends and they were all together for a birthday party. They met and hit it off. No bad blood with Javier and Dani, so nobody minded."

  "Wow, how...mature." I send a quick text to Calli because I don't know if she answers unknown numbers. I know that I rarely do. Not long after, she accepts my invite and we decide that we'll meet here and Uber to Whit's so no one needs to be the designated driver.

  It feels good to make plans.

  Rachel was a bit of a fluke that I probably won't be doing again. My close girlfriends live states away and we get together a few times a year and keep in contact with group chats, but it's just not the same.

  I've missed having more female energy around, especially when it's positive and supportive. I might not get to keep Dylan at the end of this, but maybe I'll be able to keep a few new friends.

  If not...at least it was good while it lasted.

  That seems to be my new mantra for all things that involve Dylan, so we'll see.

  19

  Shayla

  The door swings open and you'd think that I hadn't seen Whit in a few years, the way she embraces me. I love that about her, that she seems to be so open and friendly. She embraces Calli the same way, and I introduce them.

  "Unfortunately, I'm sober because I'm tattooing tonight, but the bartenders can make whatever you want so please grab something." She ushers us inside, where there are probably about twenty-five women there already, talking and laughing with Rihanna playing over the sound system. On the other side of the room, there are three tattoo stations set up, two with artists already working and I assume the third is Whitney's. "I didn't invite anyone that's super bitchy because I don't like that energy in my space, so just introduce yourselves and have fun. We can catch up when I'm doing your tattoo." She nudges me, and I laugh, nodding.

  "Okay, we'll talk later."

  Calli and I grab some food from the buffet that's set up, and then a martini for her and a vodka soda for me. I don't plan on drinking much tonight. I want to be sober when I'm choosing a tattoo, no drunken choices for me. I'm eyeing the room for a place to sit that has a table next to it when I catch the eye of a pretty woman with a jaunty curly ponytail. She motions us over and scoots on the circular cornered couch she's on, and we take her up on the offer.

  "Hey, I'm Karina!"

  "You can call me Calli."

  "I'm Shayla." We shake hands and settle with our food, making small talk.

  "So how do y'all know Whit?"

  "Her husband is on the team with my..." I hesitate because I'm not used to referring to Dylan in conversation. "Fiancé."

  "Oh yes, I did hear from a little birdie that congratulations were in order," Calli says slyly, popping a meatball into her mouth. Karina echoes her congratulations.

  "Thank you," I blush, biting into a jalapeno popper. "I met Calli through him and thought she'd enjoy tonight. What about you?"

  "My best friend plays on the team, so I met Whit through him."

  "Best friend?" Calli questions and Karina looks down, playing with her fork.

  "I haven't had enough alcohol to talk about him." She admits, a wry smile on her face. "Ask me about it in...three more drinks."

  "I'm holding you to that, girl." Calli laughs, "Life is soo boring now that I've got my man. Truly, I'm missing drama."

  "My life has had way too much drama. You're free to borrow some of it if you want." Karina tells us, turning to me. "So, who's your fiancè?"

  "Dylan Hunter?"

  "Dylan Hunter," she repeats knowingly like she's familiar with the name...but also like she knows something. "Nice catch."

  "Nuh uh, what was that in your voice at first?" I finish my drink, butterflies starting to flutter away in my stomach.

  "There was something in my voice?" She sips from her drink, shaking her head.

  "Girl, there was definitely something. Spill the beans, sis." Calli directs her, resting her elbows on her knees and leaning forward.

  Karina opens her mouth and closes it, making that face people make when they're waffling between decisions in their head.

  "You're making me really nervous. Just blink twice for yes. Secret baby? Already married? Identity Theft?" I'm just throwing out things and the last makes both of them start laughing.

  "No, no, none of that." Karina assures me, "Not that I know of, at least. I mean...Lachlan did tell me that he was going through a bad breakup not too long ago, though. Was that with you?"

  "Mmm...not exactly. We're more of a...recent thing." I hedge, playing with my fingers. "Whirlwind, you could say."

  "And you're already engaged?" Karina says, trying to school her surprise. I appreciate it, even though it's not necessary. But she doesn't know that. I'm sure she's waiting for me to be offended.

  "Why wait, you know?"

  "Mhmmm." The skeptical murmuring is from Calli, but I ignore her. "I think we need more alcohol because I want to hear all about this Lachlan." Calli stands, "Vodka soda for you, Shay. And what are you drinking, Karina?"

  "You know what? Let's just do the strongest shot she's got. I'm a lightweight."

  "Did someone say shots?" One of the other women questions, and in short work, everyone who isn't doing tattoos or currently getting one has a shot in their hand. Mine is just vodka because I
'm keeping to my edict to not get too trashed. But everyone else has tequila, Everclear, and a few other things that'll send fire through your veins.

  "I'm taking shots in spirit!" Whitney calls out, working on a small anchor tattoo for one of the other ladies.

  "To...new friends and... well-done tramp stamps!"

  Everywhere cheers and throws back their shots, various hissing and light cursing echoing through the room. From there, everyone talks more and we play a large game of Never Have I Ever with drinking for the people who want and water for the rest of us.

  It doesn't diminish the fun, though. Everyone trades stories and at one point, I laughed so hard that tears are rolling down my face and I can barely breathe. There's lots of laughter, lots of support and...it reminds me of how great it feels to just be around wonderful women. There's something so valuable about real, friendly feminine energy and not feeling judged or awkward.

  I missed it more than I realized, and I try not to think about having to find it again on my own when Dylan and I are finished.

  I'm not so good at stepping out of my shell by myself...but maybe it's something I need to actively work on.

  "Shayla!" Whit stands from the misshapen circle we're all sitting in, motioning me. "Get that sweet ass over here, I want first in on that virgin skin."

  What the hell? It's now or never.

  "Okay, but nothing big!" The girls cheer again and I follow Whit, with Karina and Calli pulling up chairs next to me.

  "I just wanna watch, I already got mine before you got here." Karina steadies herself on the chair, sitting down gingerly.

  "And you can spill about Lachlan too." Calli reminds her, drinking what's gotta be her third cocktail. That plus the two shots, and she's still kickin'. The woman holds her liquor like a champ.

  They start talking about something while Whit and I try to figure out what tattoo I want.

  "Anything you've always thought about?"

  "Not really, I could never choose so I didn't search much." I try to relax in the cushy chair, my mind racing. What if I choose something dumb? It's not like I can just scrub it off. I'd have to get it lasered off...and that would be a lot of effort. "Maybe I should think about it more."