Text Me Baby One More Time

Home > Other > Text Me Baby One More Time > Page 2
Text Me Baby One More Time Page 2

by Teagan Hunter


  “And I see you’re still as uptight as ever. You can take the girl out of that sheltered Montana life, but you can’t get the stick out of her ass.”

  I whirl around at his words.

  In true Shep fashion, the smirk is there—but that jaw? Tight, teeth gnashing painfully.

  It appears I’ve ruffled the king’s feathers.

  “Seriously, Shepard, why are you here? I thought you were off playing in the big leagues.”

  His eyes shift toward the newspaper, lingering there for several beats before he pulls his attention back to mine.

  “I’m…taking some time off.”

  I raise a brow, unconvinced. He’ll have to try a little harder, especially with me. “From the MLB?”

  “Yes, Denver, from the MLB.”

  “But this is your first year. Your stats are outstanding for a rookie. You can’t miss the end of the season…”

  He leans closer, his grin returning. “I’m aware of how my baseball career is going. Question is, how do you know?”

  My cheeks heat and I hastily take a step back, tripping over my own feet and bumping into my cart, sending it rolling forward with a force I didn’t intend.

  “Ouch! My hip! You’ve hit me!”

  My heart hammers in my chest as I turn toward the older woman in line in front of me.

  There my cart sits, right against her hip. Sure, it probably didn’t hit her that hard, but it did make contact.

  “Oh gosh, I am so sorry, ma’am! I didn’t mean to run into you. I tripped on my flip-flop and lost my balance. Please, ma’am, I apologize.”

  She huffs and turns away from me, dismissing my sincerity.

  Shame radiates through me. I feel horrible, and it’s all Shep’s fault. If he wasn’t all up in my personal space, I wouldn’t have had to move. Then I wouldn’t have tripped and run into the cart, pushing it into the woman.

  Fine, fine—it’s my fault for letting Shep get to me, but whatever. Semantics.

  “Add my stuff to her order—I’ll pay for everything,” I instruct the cashier. It’s the only way I can think of to make this up to her. My mom would whoop my ass if she’d seen what happened, and she’d demand I make it better…now. This is how I can do that.

  The woman ahead of me mutters something I don’t quite catch before collecting the last of her bags and pushing her way out of the store.

  That’s it. Nothing else.

  “Are you serious?” I mutter to no one as I watch her walk away without looking back. “I accidentally hit her with my cart, offer to pay for her groceries, and she doesn’t even say thank you? This night cannot get any worse.”

  “Better knock on wood, miss,” the cashier warns.

  I ignore her and load my groceries onto the belt.

  “I think I love tonight,” Shep comments.

  Before I think twice, I launch whatever’s in my hand at him, and he barks out a laugh, catching it with ease.

  Stupid freakin’ baseball reflexes.

  “Ah, this explains why you’re extra grouchy tonight.”

  I take a look at the box I launched and, yep, just my luck—I’ve thrown my tampons at him.

  Awesome.

  “I wish they would have smacked you right in the eye—with the corner of the box, to be specific.”

  “Now that,” he says, tossing the feminine products into the air and catching them without looking, “is rude as hell, Andrews.”

  “I hate you, Shepard Clark,” I repeat with as much venom as I can muster.

  Cue famous grin. “You only wish you did.”

  The worst part?

  He’s right.

  “HOW? How is this my life tonight? First, I run out of tampons, then I run into the king of assholes. Next, I accidentally ram my cart into an old lady, fork over sixty bucks I was not expecting to spend in order to remedy that situation, and now I have a flat tire. Great. Just great.”

  I toss my head back on a groan and stare up at the night sky.

  “What in the hell is your problem, universe? Huh?”

  No response.

  I raise a hand and flip her the bird.

  “Well, screw you too then!”

  “I always did have you pegged as a little crazy. Glad I wasn’t wrong.”

  Shep’s footsteps echo across the otherwise quiet parking lot as he comes to stand next to me, staring down at my flat tire.

  “King of assholes, huh?”

  “It’s fitting.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  I raise a brow, surprised he agreed so easily.

  I peek at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as he stares down at the ground.

  Shep is insanely attractive—even I can’t deny that—but it was never his looks that drew me to him. That would have been impossible, anyway, since we only communicated via text message at first.

  Tonight, he’s dressed simply, his long legs clad in dark jeans. A white t-shirt covers his broad, muscled shoulders, and he’s even wearing a black pair of those old man shoes that seem to be a thing these days.

  His hair is perfectly messy, the black locks pushed around in an artful yet effortless way. His hazel eyes are shrouded in shadows, and not just because of the dark and dingy parking lot we’re standing in.

  There’s something on Shep’s mind, and I’m certain it has to do with that article.

  A part of me wants to ask him about it because, being a journalist, I’m a naturally curious person. More so, though—as much as I hate to admit it—I want to ask him because of the Shep I used to know.

  Thing is, he hasn’t been that person in a long damn time.

  “You have a spare?” he finally says.

  “In the trunk.”

  “Want me to help you?”

  His words surprise me so much all I can do is stare at him.

  He lets out a bitter laugh. “Quit acting so fucking surprised, Den. I’m not a monster.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  He snorts. “Okay, fine. I deserve that, but final offer—you want my help or not?”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say yes because I’m tired and bloated and I just want to go home and eat my now melting ice cream, but this is Shep I’m talking to here. I cannot let him in again, not even a little bit.

  The pain that came with that mistake last time was enough to set my heart on fire for years.

  I’ll pass.

  “No.”

  He stands there, not moving, eyes hard.

  “I’m not some helpless little girl, Clark. I can change a tire by myself.”

  He looks around the lot one more time—for what, I don’t know—before giving me a nod. “Suit yourself then. Good night, Denver.”

  “Night,” I mutter as he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction.

  Letting out a huff in a mixture of relief and irritation, I dig my keys from my purse and unlock the doors to my hatchback. I toss my bags into the passenger seat, roll up the sleeves of my sweater, and pop open my trunk.

  I push aside all the miscellaneous crap I have back here, namely those reusable bags I always forget to take into the store, and pull up the compartment to grab my tire.

  “What the shit, universe! Are you messing with me right now?”

  There’s a giant nail poking out of the spare.

  Of course there is.

  I hear tires approach, but I don’t turn around.

  I don’t have to; I know it’s him.

  “Want a ride?”

  I slam my trunk closed, not taking a single moment to second-guess myself before saying, “Yes.”

  THREE

  Six years ago, early September

  Unknown: MAYDAY, MAYDAY. We have a MAJOR problem.

  Denver: ???

  Denver: Who is this?

  Unknown: Shepard Clark, a friend of AJ Sutton.

  Denver: How did you get this number?

  Unknown: AJ, obviously.

  Denver: He just gave my number to some
random creep? I’m going to murder him.

  Denver: Go the hell away.

  Unknown: I would but…this is important.

  Unknown: You’re Denver Andrews, right? Best friends with Allie Hanson?

  Denver: …yes?

  Denver: How do you know all that?

  Unknown: I told you—AJ.

  Unknown: He’s my Allie.

  Denver: So he’s your best friend? Why don’t you just say that?

  Unknown: Because guys don’t say shit like “best friends”. We’re all just buddies. You wouldn’t understand.

  Denver: Clearly.

  Denver: What do you want?

  Denver: Wait…how do you even know AJ? You live on the other side of the country.

  Shepard: Stalked me that fast, huh? I’m impressed.

  Denver: Shit up.

  Shepard: I most certainly will not shit up.

  Denver: I don’t even know you and I already hate you.

  Shepard: Somehow, I doubt that.

  Shepard: To answer your question, I know AJ from baseball camp. We go to the same one every summer, have since we were little. We’ve bonded over the years.

  Denver: Then why haven’t I ever heard of you? I’ve known AJ for years too.

  Shepard: Actually, you probably have.

  Denver: I’d remember a stupid name like Shepard.

  Shepard: Because you have SO much room to talk, DENVER.

  Shepard: Seriously, really weird name you have there.

  Denver: I’ll let my parents know you approve.

  Denver: Still haven’t heard of you.

  Shepard: He ever mention anyone named Slug?

  Denver: YOU’RE Slug? THE Slug?

  Shepard: Ah, so you HAVE heard of me before.

  Denver: Heard of you? You’re all he talks about during baseball season. “Man, I wish Slug could have seen this…” “Dude, bro, Slug killed it in his game last night.”

  Denver: His crush on you is annoying.

  Shepard: What can I say? I’m a legend.

  Denver: I believe I’ve rolled my eyes at the mention of you no less than 100 times.

  Shepard: You mean you were rolling your eyes in ecstasy, right?

  Denver: Are you trying to make me puke?

  Shepard: Whatever you need to tell yourself.

  Denver: Why are you still messaging me? GO AWAY, SLUG.

  Shepard: Because I have something important to tell you.

  Denver: I’m starting to believe you don’t.

  Shepard: Because I’m being conversational? HOW DARE I USE MANNERS.

  Denver: Out with it already!

  Shepard: Fine. AJ is going

  Denver: Going to?

  Denver: What? The store? The mall? Hell? Cool story. I don’t care.

  Denver: I lied. I do care. WHAT THE HELL, SLUG! You CANNOT just leave me in suspense like that!

  Denver: Seriously. It’s been five minutes.

  Denver: You’re totally getting off on this, aren’t you?

  Denver: You’re just staring at your screen watching and waiting for another panicked message from me.

  Denver: Whatever. I’m done. I’m blocking you.

  Shepard: WAIT! DON’T!

  Shepard: My brother came in and interrupted me. I didn’t mean to hit send yet or leave you hanging.

  Shepard: You still there?

  Shepard: Wait…are you doing what I just did to you? UNINTENTIONALLY, I might add.

  Denver: Possibly.

  Denver: Now tell me what you know.

  Shepard: AJ’s planning to propose to Allie at homecoming next month.

  Denver: You’re shitting me. We’re in high school. HIGH SCHOOL. This isn’t some TV show on the CW where they get married and spend the rest of their lives together despite a teen pregnancy and a crazy nanny and all kinds of other nonsense…that doesn’t happen in real life!

  Shepard: While that is oddly specific, I agree, and that’s what I told him (with less details, of course).

  Shepard: He’s insane. We’re way too young for that shit, but he’s all starry-eyed and in love.

  Shepard: Please tell me Allie is going to let him down easy.

  Denver: Honestly? She’d probably think it was romantic as hell and say yes.

  Shepard: Our friends are morons.

  Denver: Finally, something we can agree on.

  Denver: I told Allie.

  Shepard: But you kept my name out of it, right?

  Denver: Yes. You’re the asshole in this friendship, not me.

  Shepard: So we’re friends now, huh?

  Denver: Gross. No. NEVER.

  Denver: I meant acquaintanceship. We’re just two strangers working together to keep their moron friends from making a huge mistake. Besides, I hate you, remember?

  Shepard: Guess that’s the second thing we can agree on.

  Shepard: What’d Allie say?

  Denver: She said he’s a moron, but he’s HER moron…and she’ll be saying yes.

  Shepard: For fuck’s sake… WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE TWO?!

  Denver: They’re deranged.

  Shepard: I’d say. I’d never propose to my girlfriend.

  Denver: You have a girlfriend?

  Shepard: Jealous?

  Denver: No, just curious about who in their right mind would actually date you.

  Shepard: Har-har-har.

  Shepard: I have a “girlfriend”.

  Denver: Thanks. That really clears things up for me.

  Shepard: There’s this girl who is a friend. Everyone assumes she’s my girlfriend. We just kind of…roll with it.

  Denver: But…why?

  Shepard: Well, I’m trying to focus on baseball, so I don’t need a girlfriend complicating my life. She’s gay and doesn’t need that complicating her last year of high school. It keeps a lot of people off our backs.

  Denver: That’s sad. But sweet.

  Denver: I’m sorry, but did you just out your friend to me? Because that’s not cool.

  Shepard: She’s sitting right next to me and said it was okay if I told you since you live across the country. She’s deemed you “safe”.

  Shepard: But if you tell ANYONE, I’ll kiss you.

  Denver: Don’t you mean KILL?

  Shepard: I said what I meant. You “hate” me, so kissing you would be a worthy punishment.

  Denver: Interesting logic.

  Shepard: I’m a smart man.

  Denver: I wouldn’t go that far.

  Shepard: Now that you know my secret, you gotta tell me one of yours.

  Denver: I’ll pass, thanks.

  Shepard: I bet you’re real fun at parties, Denver.

  Denver: Um, what?

  Shepard: Never mind. LAUGHING OUT LOUD.

  Denver: I’m sorry…did you stalk my BookFace account? Are you making fun of me?

  Shepard: Possibly.

  Shepard: But also not. I find it a little cute that you don’t know internet lingo.

  Shepard: And weird since you’re in high school and it’s how half the girls talk.

  Denver: I’m not…allowed to have a social media account. My parents don’t know about it and I can only use it when I’m with Allie or at the comic shop. This phone I’m texting on? They don’t know that exists either. I bought a pre-paid with my babysitting money. There. That’s my secret.

  Shepard: Please, please, please tell me you’re using a flip phone.

  Denver: I am.

  Denver: You’re laughing and I’m flipping you off right now.

  Shepard: I kind of figured.

  Shepard: I am curious though…comic shop?

  Denver: Did I say that? I meant COFFEE shop.

  Shepard: No, no, it’s too late now. I know you’re a closet nerd.

  Denver: *shrugs* They have free WiFi.

  Shepard: And the comics aren’t bad, right?

  Denver: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Shepard: Whatever you need to tell yourself.

  Shepard:
We need a plan of attack, but I have practice, so I gotta run. Later, Denver.

  Denver: Bye, Shepard.

  Shepard: Can we talk for a second about how our friends’ names are Allie & AJ? Like that Disney girl band that was popular several years back?

  Denver: I have no idea who you’re talking about, but this is hilarious.

  Shepard: How do you not know? They were ALL over the place.

  Denver: Um…

  Shepard: I’m waiting.

  Denver: You can’t laugh.

  Shepard: I feel like I need to be very honest with you, Denver, and I cannot promise I won’t laugh.

  Denver: We aren’t allowed to watch TV outside of family time. My parents keep the TV in a locked cabinet. We can only watch it on movie night.

  Shepard: For your own sanity, I hope you’re joking.

  Denver: I am not.

  Shepard: I think I need a moment to let this sink in.

  Shepard: HOW… WHAT… WHO… Holy shit.

  Denver: You feel better?

  Shepard: No.

  Denver: I don’t either.

  Denver: I just Googled who you’re talking about. That is quite funny.

  Shepard: Just think—if they get married, they’ll have to live with that for the rest of their lives.

  Denver: Another reason we need to talk some sense into them.

  Denver: Any luck convincing AJ he’s a moron?

  Shepard: No. He’s too stupid to realize it.

  Denver: Allie is now wearing a rubber band around her ring finger…“to practice”.

  Shepard: These two disgust me.

  Shepard: Don’t they know love comes and goes?

  Denver: You a cynic, Shepard?

  Shepard: I’m a realist, Denver. I’ll never settle down. There’s too much out there for us to experience for that to happen.

  Shepard: Besides, do you REALLY want to be with the same person forever?

  Denver: You are asking the wrong person, buddy.

  Shepard: Oh god. Please tell me you’re not one of those weirdos who believes in soul mates and fate and all that true love bullshit.

  Shepard: Valentine’s Day is a commercial holiday. Santa Claus isn’t real. And you can’t die from mixing Coke and Pop Rocks.

  Shepard: Just wanted to point all that out in case you believe in that bullshit too.

  Denver: Cynic.

  Shepard: Realist.

  Denver: I believe everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t know what it is at the time. I believe things are mapped out for us. It may seem like we’re making all the decisions, but it’s what has been intended all along. I DO think you can settle down with one person forever.

 

‹ Prev