by M. E. Carter
She’s not the type of girl I normally go for, but the type of girl I normally go for will also drop her panties with just a smoldering look sent in her direction. I can thank David Beckham for bringing professional soccer the fanbase it has these days.
I climb the stairs to the second story of her apartment building. It’s an older complex but it’s smaller, too. Three units on top, three on bottom.
I knock on the door, noticing the landscaping is up-to-date and the building is kept up nicely. It’s also in a pretty good neighborhood. It makes me feel better to know she’s not living in a dump with a four-month-old.
The door opens, revealing a frazzled looking Quincy, who is holding an almost naked Chance. Almost naked except for his diaper.
“Uhh… did I catch you at a bad time?” I ask, wondering if we’d had some sort of a misunderstanding. I could have sworn we agreed to meet at noon.
“No! Come in,” she practically yells, stepping aside for me to walk in. “I was in the middle of getting ready, and Chance decided he wasn’t tired anymore and woke up. So of course that means he was hungry, and when I was finally done feeding him, he kept screaming every time I tried to put him down.” She smiles ruefully. “I’m running behind.”
I grin at her blurting out the longest, fastest explanation I’ve ever heard. “It’s okay. We’re not in a hurry. The fish will still be there when we get there.”
“Thank you,” she says, and I can see her shoulders visibly relax. “It’s gonna be about ten minutes or so. I haven’t even done my hair yet! I guess it’s going in a ponytail today, no thanks to you, my lucky ducky. Huh? Isn’t that right?” She coos and tickles the baby. He smiles at her like she’s hung the moon.
“Well here,” I say, holding out my arms. “Why don’t you let me take him while you get ready. Does he have any clothes?”
She hands him to me and turns to run out of the room. “Yes!” she yells over her shoulder.
I look at Chance, who is staring at me, trying to figure out who I am. “You already forgot me, didn’t you?” I say, leaning down to touch my forehead to his. “I see how it is. I hand you back to your beautiful aunt after we play together and all our bonding flies out the window, huh?” At that, he cracks a smile. I throw my head back and laugh. “Yeah. I’ve got you pegged.”
Quincy comes racing back in the room, holding a onesie and some pants. “Thank you so much for watching him for a few minutes. I’ll be right back.” She trots down the hallway again, calling over her shoulder, “When the babysitter gets here, let her in!”
I take a seat on the couch, laying Chance next to me. I pat his tummy and look around. There’s really nothing that catches my eye. It’s all normal things. Couches, end tables, a flat-screen TV hanging on the wall over a small entertainment center. The only piece that seems out of place is a corner shelf on the opposite side of the room. It appears to be made of spindles. It’s obviously handmade and it’s not the best craftsmanship I’ve ever seen, but it’s clear it has sentimental value because of its prominent location.
As if I’m not paying enough attention to him, Chance squeals at me.
“All right, dude. Are you ready to get dressed?” I spend the next few minutes trying to wrangle his squirmy ass into a black onesie that has a picture of an ultrasound on it. Underneath is the hashtag #tbt. I chuckle.
I like that she has a sense of humor.
“Well, little man,” I say as I pick him up. “What shall we do while we wait? Ohhhhh……!”
Out of nowhere, Chance throws up all over us. Not spit-up. No. It’s like a water hose turned on and sprayed us both.
“Well,” I say, taking in the scene. Chance is smiling and giggling, probably because his tummy feels better than it did ten seconds ago. “I was supposed to go on a date with your mom—uh, aunt—what the hell do you call her? I take it this is your way of telling me to keep my hands to myself?”
Chance makes a growling noise at me and reaches for my cheeks. There’s a knock on the door.
I take a moment to peel my shirt over my head, careful not to drop the baby or get puke anywhere else, and wipe us both down the best I can. I go to the front door, still holding Chance and my puked-on shirt. There’s another quick knock before I get there.
“I’m coming, I’m coming. We had a little accident.” A stout woman is standing at the door. Dark hair, round face, probably in her early 20s. She stands frozen, staring at me, eyes wide.
“I, uh,” she starts, clears her throat, and starts again, trying really hard not to stare at my bare chest. “I’m Katie. The babysitter. Is Quincy here?”
“She’s in the back getting ready.” I step back. “Come on in. Chance here seems to be having a rough day.”
“Okay.” Katie avoids making eye contact with me, and her cheeks flush. I’m used to having that effect on woman, but it still makes me smile when it happens. What can I say… I work hard on my physical fitness. I don’t mind being appreciated for it.
“Have you watched him before?” I ask, trying to make conversation.
“A couple of times.”
“So you know where all his stuff is?”
“For the most part. Why?”
“As you can see….” I say, gesturing to my torso. Her cheeks flush again. I’m such an asshole for purposely doing that to her again. “Chance puked on us right before you knocked. You wouldn’t happen to know where some extra clothes for him are, would you?”
“Oh!” she says with a giggle. “Yes! Let me take him, and I’ll go change him.”
I pass him to her, warning her his clothes are soaked through. Quincy walks into the room.
“Did I hear Katie come in…?” She freezes at the front of the hall, taking in my lack of clothing. There is a mixture of confusion and interest in her eyes. I give her a few seconds to get her fill before trying to break her out of her trance.
“Quincy,” I say. “Quincy, eyes up here.” I smirk at her, knowing that she knows I just caught her ogling me. She quirks an eyebrow at me.
“I’m gonna go change the baby,” Katie says, and turns down the hallway, leaving Quincy and me alone.
“Why exactly are you half-naked in my living room?” she asks, raising one eyebrow at me.
I cross my arms, making sure my biceps flex. Quincy’s eyes drop to watch the movement for a second before quickly snapping right back up to mine.
“It turns out Chance may not have been hungry after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whatever you fed him came right back up.”
“He spit up?” she asks, walking toward a table where her purse is sitting.
I laugh. “Uh, no. He threw up all over me and all over himself. If it weren’t for my quick reflexes, he would have puked on your couch, too.”
Her hand flies to her face, and she closes her eyes. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can’t believe that happened. I don’t have any shirts that would fit you, but we can toss it in the washer if you want.”
“Nah,” I say with a smile. “I have an extra set of clothes in the back of my car for times like this.”
“Because a baby throwing up all over you is something that happens on a regular basis?” she asks sarcastically.
I laugh again. “No, smart-ass. But I never know when I’m going to be called to babysit my nieces and nephews or when I’ll see a random kids’ soccer game and want to stop and play for a while.”
“Ah. So you have your play clothes in the trunk of your car,” she jokes.
“Exactly.”
She picks up her purse and digs through it, looking for something. “Why don’t you go down to the car while I make sure Katie is settled. I’ll meet you there in just a couple of minutes. Will that work?”
I drop my hands and put them on my hips, making sure to flex my abs in the process. She looks up from her purse and stills when she sees the new position I’m in. I’m just messing with her, but it’s fun to see her reactions. She playfully glowers at me, lik
e she knows what I’m doing and it won’t impress her for long. Which, of course, just makes it more fun for me to keep doing it.
“Sure. I’m the black Range Rover.”
All I can think of is her sexy little jean shorts, her smile, and her spunky attitude.
This is gonna be fun.
I lean over the wall, dangling my arm in water up to my forearm. I’m waiting for a stingray to swim by, but I’m also avoiding Daniel’s eyes. Ever since I came into the living room to find him shirtless, I’ve been getting vibes from him. The kind of vibes that signal a very strong attraction between two people. I’m not sure if it’s because he caught me staring at him or if it’s because of my shorts. They’re pretty short. Either way, it’s becoming more and more obvious that we aren’t just attracted to each other’s personalities. I haven’t felt attraction like this in a long time. If I’m being truthful, it makes me a little nervous.
What if I like him more than he likes me?
What if he only wants to get in my pants?
I put the obnoxious girly thoughts out of my head. I’ve never had thoughts like these before about any guy. I’ve always known I’m worth more than what I offer a guy in bed. It must be the lack of sleep catching up with me.
I squeal as the baby stingray avoids my hand completely and glides right by, flapping his wing and splashing me with water.
Daniel throws his head back and laughs. “You keep falling for it.”
I pat the water out of my eye. “I know. He’s a sneaky one. I keep waiting for one of his friends to come by and let me touch his belly.”
Nestled smack in the middle of Houston, you wouldn’t think there would be a lot to do at the Downtown Aquarium, but there is. There are thousands of tanks filled with various forms of sealife… everything from sharks to eels to jellyfish. There’s even a white tiger and carnival rides. It’s a blast. But my favorite is the stingray exhibit.
There are hundreds of baby stingrays in the pool. They’ve all been hand-raised and are friendly, so you can pet them. That is, when they aren’t being ornery.
I stick my hand back in the water, noticing Daniel’s look of amusement. “Just a few more minutes, I promise,” I say, trying to keep an eye on my rebellious friend before I get splashed again.
“Take all the time you want,” he replies, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “I’m entertained watching you be entertained.”
“I think they’re fascinating,” I say as I wiggle my fingers a little. “They’re so soft, and they have these little personalities. Like my friend over there.” I nod toward a different section of the pool, where a little girl, probably five or six, is giggling after being splashed. “I was planning to study them.”
“You wanted to study stingrays?”
“Among other things,” I admit, not taking my eyes off the creatures in the water. “I wanted to major in marine biology. Travel the world and do research on the breeding patterns of certain animals.” I look over at him. “Then I discovered I hate the ocean.”
He crinkles his brow like that’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. “You hate the ocean?”
“Scared to death of it.” I take my hand out of the water. “Have you seen the kind of things that live in the water?”
We walk over to the handwashing station so I can clean up. “It’s hard to be a marine biologist if you’re afraid of the things you’re studying.”
“It’s not like I ended up going to college for long, so I didn’t waste a bunch of years studying for something I didn’t end up doing. Besides, it’s more fun to come here.” We look at the pool, and one of the stingrays glide straight up the wall so a patron can rub between his eyes. “Aw, man. That’s what I was hoping to do.”
“Wanna go back over?” Daniel offers.
I shake my head. “That’s okay. I can come back a different day. Where do you want to go now?”
“I’m starving,” he says. “Wanna get something to eat? I hear the restaurant is amazing.”
“Sure.” We slowly make our way over to the hostess stand, stopping a few times to look at various displays. Fortunately for us, there’s not a wait to be seated. That’s probably due to the fact it’s a Monday afternoon and most people are at work and school. That also seems to have kept the fans away from Daniel. Very few people have even noticed him, let alone recognized him. I’d like to say it’s been a relief, but I’ve never seen the fandom, so I honestly don’t know how crazy it can get.
We make our way up the staircase that wraps around a cylindrical floor-to-ceiling aquarium. There are dozens of colorful fish in it. The biggest and brightest creature of them all is the eight-foot-long yellow eel. He’s winding in and out of the coral, doing his best to hide. If you didn’t know he was in the tank, you probably would never even notice him.
We follow the hostess to a table and sit down. She tells us our waiter will be with us soon. The large room is broken up by another massive fish tank, this one housing sharks and giant stingrays. I could stare at them all day.
“If it wasn’t marine biology, what would it have been?” Daniel asks me, leaning on the table.
“You mean my major?” I ask. He nods. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I hadn’t really gotten that far. It wasn’t until a couple years ago, when some friends wanted to go swimming at the beach, that I realized how scared I really am.”
“So no beach dates for you then?” he teases.
“Actually, I love the beach. Just don’t make me swim in the water.”
Our waiter approaches, giving each of us a glass of water. After introducing himself and taking our drink orders, he walks away, leaving us to our menus and conversation.
“How did you end up playing soccer for a living?” I ask, taking a sip of my water. “It’s quite an accomplishment.”
“I started playing when I was a kid at the local YMCA. Every single season I would beg my mom to let me sign up.” He picks up his roll of silverware and unwraps everything, placing his napkin on his lap. “By the time I got to high school, I had played on every league in the area. Having a high school team was a relief for my dad. He didn’t have to help coach anymore at that point.” He smiled at the memory. “I had some really great coaches in high school who helped me get a scholarship to college, and the figurative ball kept rolling.”
“Sounds like it was a lot of hard work.”
“It was, and not just for me. My parents sacrificed a lot of their time, too, and not because they wanted me to play professionally. There’s no guarantees, ya know?” I nod. “They just did it because they knew I loved it, and it made me happy.”
I love knowing he comes from a really solid family background with what sounds like amazing parents. So many of my friends had absentee parents or even abusive homes. It’s nice to talk to someone who seems to have stability in their past.
“If you weren’t playing soccer, what would you be doing?” I ask.
“You mean what was my major?” I nod. “Business.”
I furrow my brow. “Business? I can’t see you being a business major.”
“I think a lot of college athletes are, especially those of us who are scouted for the pros early on. It’s a good idea to know how to manage your money and things like that. Plus, once we retire, lots of companies don’t mind picking us up because of the status. Knowing what I’m doing in a business sense will give me a leg up on the competition someday.”
“Always worried about the competition, aren’t you?” I deadpan.
“Are you telling me there’s some competition for your affections I don’t know about?”
That wasn’t at all what I thought he was going to say. “Yes, because there are so many men out there knocking down the doors of women with babies. I’m surprised I’m even sitting here right now.” I meant it as a joke, but Daniel doesn’t look amused.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” he says. “Raising your nephew isn’t a negative at all. If anything, it highlights that you’re caring and ge
nerous and loyal. If a man can’t see that, you’re looking at the wrong man.”
Our waiter reappears to take our order. I fumble my way through it as I quickly decide what I want, still taken aback at the turn of this conversation. But Daniel’s right. Just because Chance and I are a package deal now, doesn’t mean I’m not still the total package. Sometimes it takes someone else to point it out.
“Your family sounds really great,” I say, fiddling with the condensation on my glass after the waiter leaves. “Sounds like you guys are really tight.”
He has a strange look on his face. “For the most part, we are.”
“What do you mean?”
“My brothers and sisters and I are really close and we’re all close with our mama.”
“But?”
“I don’t talk to my dad.”
I cock my head, sure I didn’t hear him correctly. “Your dad?” He nods. “The guy who coached all your soccer teams and encouraged you to pursue it?”
“Yeah. I mean, I give him credit for helping me get where I am today. He was a good father, ya know?”
I listen closely. I have the most overwhelming feeling he doesn’t talk about this part of his life often.
“As soon as I graduated, he left. Just left my mom after thirty years of marriage or something crazy like that. Said he hadn’t been happy for years and went to go live with his girlfriend.”
My jaw drops. “His what?”
Daniel shakes his head like he still can’t believe it himself. “I know, right? Apparently he was seeing her the entire time I was in high school, knowing he was going to leave as soon as I was out of school. Talk about a kick in the balls to know the man you admired was a liar and a cheat.”
I sit back and cross my arms. “That sucks for you guys, but your poor mom… wow.”
“Obviously I wasn’t there when he dropped that bomb on her, but from what I gathered, she was as blindsided as the rest of us.” He rubs his lip with his forefinger, deep in thought. “She handled it with such grace, ya know? To find out my dad was having an affair. Then to find out he was leaving her for a girl my sister’s age. But I never once saw her cry and she never once broke under the stress of it all.” He looks at me. “She faced it head-on, forced his hand in divorce court and won alimony, and that was that.”