Tomcat

by Samantha Westlake

  "So glad that you're picking up the tab," I muttered, just soft enough for Chase to hear my words.

  He smirked, but didn't reply.

  Chapter Twelve

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  "So, what changed your mind?"

  Chase glanced up from his plate of food, his eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, with all of this," I replied, gesturing around at the restaurant. I forgot about the bit of salad at the end of my fork and nearly sent it flying across the table, but managed to get my fork back down in time. "Inviting me out. You didn't even talk to me for most of the last week, before the game, and now, all of a sudden, you're laying on the charm. Why?"

  Across the table from me, Chase chewed his bite of steak, taking his time to swallow before replying. He washed down the steak with a sip of whisky from the glass tumbler in front of him.

  "Last week was... different," he said, picking and choosing his words carefully. "Most of the time, I don't exactly hold a sparkling conversation with the girls that end up coming back to my hotel room."

  "I didn't come back to your hotel room," I pointed out.

  He grinned at me. "The night's still young."

  I kept my frown up, hoping that he couldn't sense my quickening pulse. "So what, you wanted to ask me out again because I didn't sleep with you?"

  "Not at all. I wanted to ask you out because, of all the women that I've talked to, at least in the last year, my conversation with you has been the most interesting, by far. I wanted to know if that was just a fluke."

  To my amazement, he sounded genuine. "You really liked talking with me?" I repeated hesitantly.

  "Why's that surprising?" he asked.

  "Well, you talk to a lot of women-"

  "Talk," Chase repeated, holding up his hands in air quotes, and I burst out laughing at the sight. "Seriously, the conversation usually goes something along the lines of 'Oh my gawd, you're famous! Like, can we come see your sweet pad at the hotel? I bet football players know how to partay, huh?'" He imitated the 'valley girl' accent perfectly, and I had to lift my napkin up to cover my mouth for fear that I'd spit food across the table.

  "Okay, okay, not a lot of deep conversation at the clubs," I gave in. "But all of a sudden, you're wanting to change your wicked ways?"

  "I figured that, this way, we both win," Chase replied. "I get to have a better class of conversation than what I generally get out at the clubs, and you get to keep an eye on me, up close and personal, to know that I'm not committing any indecencies to get my pictures in the tabloids."

  He did have a good point, I admitted to myself, and I wasn't just saying this because I wanted to spend more time with this handsome, sexy specimen of a man. "Okay, I give in," I finally said. "I'll stick around. What do you want to talk about?"

  Cutting another piece of his steak, Chase shrugged. "I don't really know," he reluctantly said after a minute. "To tell you the truth, I'm not great at the small talk, when it's not about football."

  "And I think that we're both sick of talking about football," I finished that sentence. I cast my mind about for a new topic. "How about your childhood? You're from Michigan originally, aren't you? Played for Michigan State?"

  "I'm flattered that you memorized so many facts about me," Chase joked. "But yes, I grew up in a small town, in Northern Michigan, right on Lake Superior."

  "How was life growing up?"

  He sat back for a minute, considering the question. "You know, I can't complain much about it now," he admitted. "I mean, I didn't have the perfect childhood, but who did? I spent a lot of time out in the woods, just wandering around in nature. I used to practice running football plays in this field full of boulders and trees, and I'd dodge and duck around them like they were members of the opposing team."

  I smiled, imagining a smaller version of Chase playing football out in a field, ducking around trees and pulling spin moves to avoid boulders. "Wait, so you weren't the most popular kid in school? Homecoming king, dating every single cheerleader?"

  "As if," he laughed back. "No, I don't think I even had a girlfriend until college! I'm a perfect example of a late bloomer. In high school, even though I played quarterback on the team, I still couldn't hold a conversation with girls, and I wasn't famous enough for them to overlook that deficiency."

  "Well, take it from me, even the popular kids had it rough," I replied.

  "You were popular? Homecoming queen?"

  I shook my head. "No, but my best friend, Miranda, was. Since I was her best friend, I got to hear about all the trials and tribulations of being adored."

  "Miranda," Chase repeated. "She came out with you at the club last week, didn't she?"

  "If by 'came out,' you mean that she dragged me out despite my protests, then yes," I said. "She's always been the hotter one, the more outgoing one, the one that all the boys fawn over. She's a great friend, but sometimes it's tough being next to her and always feeling like I don't quite measure up."

  I was amazed to suddenly realize that I had tears welling up at the corners of my eyes. I hastily blotted them away with a napkin, hoping that I hadn't ruined my makeup. I definitely hadn't intended to get so real with conversation tonight.

  Across the table, Chase was looking closely at me, and I guessed that he'd spotted the droplets before I wiped them away. "Trust me, being in the spotlight isn't a great deal, either," he said softly.

  "Yeah, yeah." I knew that he was trying to console me, but I'd heard it many times from Miranda before, and it never quite made the sting go away. I tried to put on a smile. "You should have seen her face when she heard that you called us over to your VIP booth because you recognized me, not because you wanted to talk with her. She definitely wasn't expecting that!"

  Chase still wore a frown. "I still feel bad, now. What can I do to make you feel better?"

  "You really don't have to do anything," I insisted. "Here, change the conversation. What did you do in college? When did your big break from unpopular to popular hit you?"

  He leaned back in his booth, and a smile danced around the edges of his lips as his eyes unfocused. "It's weird, but I can remember the exact moment that it all sank in," he said after a minute. "Did you go to any fraternity parties in college?"

  "A couple, yeah. With-"

  "-Miranda, got it. Well, I remember being invited to one, as a freshman, after we won our first big home game. I'd never been invited to a party before, and I figured that I was only being asked because the fraternity wanted other members of the football team there, and that it would be rude to not invite everyone."

  Already, I had to struggle to hold back snickers. Chase caught my expression and smiled back. "Oh, it gets better," he went on. "So I show up at this party, and of course, there are a bunch of fraternity bros who want to play beer pong with me, see whether I'm any good at throwing for that game, too! I say yes, but I'm still thinking that they're just taking pity on me. It isn't until we're almost done with the second game of beer pong that I look up and realize that half the party is clustered around the ping pong table, watching us!"

  "So what happened next?" I asked, leaning in. Among his many other good qualities, Chase happened to also be great at telling suspenseful stories, I observed.

  "Well, I sank the last shot, and the whole party erupts into cheers! I'm high-fiving bros left and right, when this girl walks up to me and asks me if I need a drink after that game. She was the classic sorority girl - blonde hair, plaid skirt, tight little sweater that left nothing to the imagination." Chase frowned for a moment, but I waved him on. "Anyway, I'm tongue-tied, staring at this woman, and she just reaches out and takes my hand, leading me upstairs from the game room. I see a couple of the other football players pointing at me and clapping, hollering, but I still don't understand what's going on."

  "How long before it all clicked?"

  "Oh god, this is so embarrassing!" he admitted, running a hand back through his hair and leaving it even messier. "But we w
ere up in someone's room, she shuts the door, and I'm still oblivious! I ask her where the drinks are!"

  He paused for a moment as I burst out laughing, unable to hold back any longer. "You really thought there was a drink for you, and that was it!" I gasped out, in between big, sobbing laughs.

  "I really did!" he insisted. "And she scoots closer, tells me that she thinks i'm up for a little more activity before I have another drink. And that's when it finally clicked."

  "Because she mentioned more activity?"

  "No," Chase finished his story with a smile, "because when she scooted in closer, she literally shoved her hand down my pants and grabbed my dick."

  My mouth dropped open. "No way. I don't think anyone I knew in a sorority would be that forward!"

  "Well, this girl was," Chase said. "And that night, after the party was over, I remember just laying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. The girl came back to my room with me, even though football players weren't supposed to have anyone else stay over, and she kept me up for a while! But eventually she passed out, too, and I was the only one still awake, just staring up at the ceiling and thinking."

  "What were you thinking?"

  He thought for a moment, and I again sensed that he was picking his words carefully. "I laid awake thinking," he said slowly, "that this was the start of a different chapter for my life. This was the start of something new."

  "And was it?" I asked.

  He looked back at me, and slowly nodded. "More than even I realized at the time, yes."

  Chapter Thirteen

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  After he'd settled the bill, Chase offered a hand to Katy, helping her up from her seat in the steakhouse booth. She smiled up at him, and he couldn't help noticing how the white shawl she'd put on around her shoulders had slipped down, leaving one shoulder bare and exposed.

  For a moment, looking at that shoulder, Chase almost forgot about his main goal - making sure that Katy wasn't following up on the deflated footballs.

  In fact, several times already, he'd had to force his thoughts back to that goal. He didn't intend to get distracted, but he kept on finding himself drawn thoroughly into the conversations with Katy! She just listened so intently, paying so much attention to his words in a way that Chase couldn't remember anyone else ever doing.

  And also, whenever she laughed, she had a tendency to lean forward against the table, clapping her hands together. Normally, this wouldn't matter much - but in her current outfit, the little black dress that she wore, this motion gave Chase a tantalizing glimpse of considerable white cleavage, if only for a moment.

  He certainly hadn't told more jokes because of this fact, trying to sneak more looks at her body. He just wanted to be funny tonight, that was the only reason.

  "So, where to next?" Katy asked, as he helped her up out of the booth.

  "Well, that offer to join me in the steakhouse bathroom still stands-"

  She crossed her arms and glared at him, tapping one high-heeled shoe and raising an eyebrow. Chase lifted his hands up in surrender.

  "If you're not up for making this a great night, we can still have fun, too!" he changed his tune slightly. "There's a bar around the corner with live music and dancing, if that sounds like a better option."

  "As long as you can keep your pants on and not leave the place with a prostitute, I'm down," Katy gave in.

  He smirked back at her. "Well, I did pay for dinner, so what does that make you?"

  "A friend," she fired back, turning and strolling out of the steakhouse without glancing back to see if he would follow.

  For a moment, Chase just watched her go, considering those words. A friend.

  In terms of his goal, keeping her close so that she would tell him first about any suspicions of the deflated footballs playing a larger role in the previous games, having Katy regard him as a friend was a definite success. But still, a little bit of Chase found himself wishing that he could find a way to make them something more.

  After all, friends don't usually cast surreptitious glances at cleavage or a cute little round ass standing out in a dress.

  A second later, Chase hurried after her, catching up in time to hold the door open for her. Katy broke her huff for just a moment to nod her head to him, and then regally proceeded outside, as if he was just some manservant! Chase caught himself rolling his eyes before stepping out after her.

  As he'd said, the bar was only a block or two away. Still, by the time that they reached the entrance, Chase could see Katy shivering a little.

  "Here, let's get inside and warm up," he said, once again pulling the door open for her.

  Sure enough, the inside of the bar radiated warmth, already mostly full of people listening to the music of the live band up on stage. Chase and Katy made their way over to the bar without incident, although murmurs followed after them, and several people pointed at Chase and whispered excitedly to each other.

  "Looks like you're recognized," Katy pointed out to him as they leaned up against the bar.

  "I've gotten used to it," he replied with a shrug. "After a while, you just sort of stop noticing."

  They ordered a couple beers and downed them, but slowed down on their second drinks. Sipping at the beer bottles, they leaned back against the bar, looking around at the dancers and listening to the music. Katy leaned partially against Chase, using him for support, and he could feel the warmth of her body soaking into him.

  "Looks like fun," she commented after a minute.

  "Want to try?"

  She glanced up at him. "What, you dance?"

  Chase grinned. "A big part of being a quarterback is being agile on my feet. How do you think I train that?"

  "By dancing??" Her mouth dropped open. "No way. You're messing with me. This is a joke."

  "I sometimes wish that it was, but my coach in high school had some pretty definite ideas on how to train," Chase admitted, once again rubbing his hand across his hair as he did whenever he felt a little embarrassed. "I thought the weird part was going to be going out dancing with the rest of the football team, but that wasn't even the worst of it."

  "Oh my god. You have to tell me what the worst part was."

  Chase winced. "The worst part is that the dancing happened at the local senior center, because that was the only dance hall that the coach could find that would play music at practice times. I learned how to do most of my dancing while holding an eighty-year-old woman in my arms."

  He groaned and leaned away as Katy burst into a fit of giggling laughter. She started to get control of herself, but then turned and looked up at him, and the laughing began anew.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she choked out. "It's just the thought of you, as a teenager, dancing with some senior citizen with gray hair to the polka or something-"

  "Swing."

  "Ohh, that's even worse!" She thumped her head against his chest, hitting him a couple of times with her fist. "Ohh, I can just picture it! You better not piss me off, Chase, or else I'm going to share this for the whole world to find out!"

  "There just might be some pictures remaining out there online that I haven't managed to find and destroy," Chase admitted, and Katy raised her head up.

  "I'm going to find them," she promised, an evil glint in her eye. "Then, I'll have blackmail material on you forever!"

  Before she could tell him what she intended to blackmail him to do, Chase reached down and gently lifted her hand, still curled into a fist, off of his chest. "Well, before you go off searching for any remaining pictures, let's see if I remember anything," he said, leading her out towards the dance floor.

  Suddenly, however, she seemed reluctant. "I don't know. I'm not big on, well, dancing."

  "You were dancing before, at the other club, weren't you?"

  "Yeah, but that's not the same!" She looked defensive as Chase paused, looking at her and waiting for an explanation. "At the other club, I was just out with Miranda, and I'd had a lot to drink, and n
o one else was looking at me. I wasn't with anyone, well, famous!"

  "We can fix part of that," Chase answered. He ducked back to the bar, flagging down the bartender. "A couple shots of Grey Goose, here!"

  Katy accepted the drink, throwing it back in a single slug that even Chase found strangely impressive. "Still, everyone knows it's you!" she insisted, as he tossed back his own shot. "They're all going to be looking at us!"

  "No, they're all going to be looking at me," he corrected her, once again taking her hand and urging her out towards the dance floor. "Come on, no one will notice you twice! And I'll lead, so all you have to do is move along with the flow."

  She still looked nervous, but managed to put on a small smile. "I hope you're ready for some high heels stepping on your feet, then."

  "Compared to the big clunkers that Mildred used to wear, you'll feel like a spring breeze," Chase retorted, and he pulled her into his arms as the next song started up and she laughed at his joke, leaning slightly forward and giving him another one of those oh so tantalizing glimpses down her top.

  At first, he did feel a little uncertain on his feet. His first few steps were hesitant, listening to the beat of the song. But then, muscle memory came rushing back to him, and his movements became smoother and more assured. He still remembered hearing his old coach shouting out the counts, yelling at them to move faster, to pick up their feet more.

  In his arms, Katy giggled at first, and then gasped with delight as he swung her around, now really getting into the tune. "Wow!" she exclaimed, as he sent her out, tossing her away from him, but holding onto one of her hands so that he could pull her back in a spin. He caught her up against his chest, looking down into her wide eyes, feeling her heart rapidly beating as she pressed up against him.

  That meant, he realized a moment later as he spun her out again, that she had to be able to feel his heartbeat, as well. He wondered if she'd take its rapid beating just as excitement and arousal, not as anything more.