I wobble and bring a leg down, then the other to stand upright. “Hey.”
“You made that look too easy.”
My stomach dips at the sight of Rhett. He’s in his blue Valley hockey T-shirt and jeans, with a white Bruins hat low on his eyes.
“You’re back.”
“Got in about twenty minutes ago.”
“You just missed yoga class.”
“Thank god.” He laughs softly. “Are you teaching another one this afternoon?”
“No, I was just messing around a little.”
“Don’t let me interrupt.” He drops to the floor next to the wall and leans his back against it.
“Oh no, you have to participate or I’ll feel awkward.”
He kicks off his shoes and goes up into a handstand. His shirt rides up giving me a view of his chest and abs. He walks around the room on his hands, circling the entire perimeter before jumping back to his feet in front of me.
“Not bad.” I think for a second. “What about this one?”
I go into crow’s pose and hold it for a few seconds.
He looks apprehensive, so I come out of it. “It isn’t that hard.”
“Oh no, I’m not making that mistake again. I ate my words last time I had that thought about yoga.”
“Squat on the mat.”
Reluctantly, he moves onto the mat and does as I requested.
“Little lower.”
His lips twist into a smirk, but he does it.
“Now put your hands onto the mat in front of you under your shoulders and spread out your fingers.” I walk around him, checking out his form. “Your knees should rest on your arms. Good.”
I crouch down beside him. “Come up onto your toes and shift your weight.”
His forearms and biceps flex. “Now what?”
“If you can, shift your weight forward until your feet come off the floor. Don’t jump or hop. It’ll throw you off balance.” I move in front of him and place my hands on his upper shoulders in case he falls forward.
He gets up and holds it for a second. He lets out a whoop of excitement and then loses his balance and drops back into a squat.
“That was good for your first try. Give it another shot.”
“I think I better keep my day job.” He rests on the mat. “Speaking of jobs, how’d your interview go?”
I sit in front of him and cross my legs. “Good. Really good, actually. They sent an offer over this morning.”
“No way.” His mouth pulls into a wide smile. “Congratulations. I missed so much in a day. Tell me everything.”
I chuckle. “Umm well, it’s the same company my dad works for in Appleton. It’s a software company in the healthcare sector.”
“Nice.”
“I would be writing and editing sales materials, I think. The interview was kind of a blur. It’s a good company, though.”
“That’s really awesome. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I haven’t decided if I’m going to accept it. I probably will. I don’t know. I haven’t lined up any more interviews so I most likely should.”
“You don’t sound very excited. Is there something else you’d rather do?”
“No, that’s kind of my problem. I keep waiting for something to come along that makes me as excited as I thought I would be when I was interviewing for jobs. They’re all fine and I think I’ll be happy wherever I end up, but I don’t feel that glee that everyone else seems to when they talk about their jobs after college. Are you excited about working for your parents?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs and leans back on his hands. “I’ve worked there every summer since I was sixteen though.”
We’re quiet for a beat and I realize I haven’t congratulated him on the game in person.
“Oh my gosh, I’m the worst Valley fan ever. Congrats on the win and your assist.” I move forward to hug him. He’s warm and smells like laundry soap and my pulse quickens being so close.
“Thanks.” He smiles. “I still can’t believe it. Totally surreal.”
“Campus was nuts last night. Everyone is so excited that the championship game is here.”
“Us too. Adam and I stayed up half the night talking about it. We’re so freaking pumped.”
“Did you guys get to go out somewhere last night to celebrate?”
“Coach took us out to dinner and I think a few of the guys might have went down to the hotel bar when we got back, but most of us were to amped up thinking about the next game.”
“I had this mental picture of you in some bar, shirtless, slopping beer around on unsuspecting women who then pulled you into the bathroom.”
He lifts a brow and then slowly sits forward until his face is inches from mine. “You’re the only girl I want to slop beer on,” he replies playfully and winks.
“Wow, I feel so special.” I say the words sarcastically, but my stomach is filled with butterflies.
“What are you doing later?”
“I’m not sure. Why?”
“We’re watching game film at five, but I was hoping we could hang out after.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Anything you want? You could come over or… anything.” Come over. Translation, spend the night kissing and possibly more.
“Anything, huh?”
“Uh-oh. Why do I feel like I just unwillingly signed myself up for more brutal yoga or something equally humiliating?”
“That all depends. How’s your voice?”
* * *
“Why are you torturing this poor man?” Josie asks as we walk around Prickly Pear, looking for a table. As soon as we walked in, Rhett went to grab drinks. He looks back and smiles at me from across the bar and my body tingles.
“I’m not torturing him. We haven’t done this in ages. It’ll be fun.” We squeeze through another large group of people searching for somewhere to sit. “I don’t remember karaoke night being so packed.”
“Uh, Sienna.” Josie nudges me with an elbow and points to a sign that says, Speed Dating Event. Sign in at the bar.
“Oh no!”
Rhett joins us with the drinks and an amused smirk. “Is this your way of telling me you want to see other people?”
“I thought it was karaoke night. I’m so sorry. We don’t have to stay.”
“Yes, we do,” Josie says. “Look at them.” She waves a hand toward a large group of guys with nametags on their shirts. “One of those guys could be my next boyfriend.”
Josie and I take our drinks from Rhett and thank him.
“Nametags are in my back pocket.” He turns so I can see them sticking out of his denim-clad ass.
He filled them out for us and I admire his small, neat penmanship as I pull the sticky label off and attach it to my shirt.
“You’re cool with this? Really?” I move closer to him and drop my hand to his forearm.
“Yeah, it’ll be fun.” He cocks his head to the side. “Or really awful, but either way we’ll have stories.”
There are more guys than girls at the event. They sit the women in a line of chairs with about two feet of distance between us and a chair directly across where the guys take turns sitting with each of us for fifteen minutes before the timer goes off and they move to the left. Because we’re at a bar, they also have special add-ons. If a guy wants to keep talking to you, he can buy you a drink and earn an extra fifteen minutes. And you have the chance to do a question and answer game where every correct answer about your partner, earns even more time.
I’m as nervous as I would be if it were a real first date when the first guy sits down in front of me. I glance down the line until I find Rhett a few chairs away. It occurs to me for the first time that while I might not be interested in chatting to these other guys, he might not be as opposed to getting to know some different girls. Ones that don’t drag him out for a night of karaoke turned speed dating because they’re terrified of hooking up and having their heart smashed into tiny pieces.
&nbs
p; He’s the hottest guy here by a mile. He ditched the hat tonight, but still went with his usual jeans and a gray T-shirt. He flashes a smile in my direction and then the first timer goes off for us to begin.
Will, my first date, tells me about his job working for a small advertising firm. He’s nice and sort of cute, but I’m only half listening. I keep letting my gaze slide to the left to see Rhett. He’s paired up with a pretty blonde. She’s sitting on the edge of her chair so their knees touch and has his hand in her lap.
“What was that?” I ask Will. I’m pretty sure he asked me a question.
He glances in the direction I was staring. “I asked if you were seeing someone, but I think I got my answer.”
“It’s new. What about you?”
“A couple of girls. Nothing serious.”
How charming.
“How do you feel about threesomes?”
I giggle because I think he’s joking. He isn’t. After that I stop pretending to be interested in Will and I watch Rhett to see what’s happening with his date. They’re both laughing and talking so I guess better than mine.
Needless to say, Will does not buy me a drink or ask me to play the game so we can spend more time together.
My next suitor is a graduate student at Valley named Chad. He’s nice and doesn’t ask me about threesomes. Who knew the bar was so low? I’m not feeling any sparks of attraction between us, but we’re able to chat about classes and professors to kill the time.
I’m antsy for my chance with Rhett. If chatting with other guys and seeing him with other girls has shown me anything, it’s that I want to spend time with him. I don’t know how far I’m willing to put myself out there, but I’m not ready to walk away.
The next couple between me and Rhett opts for more time and the guy I walked into the bar with finally sits in front of me. He blows out a breath that makes his cheeks puff like a chipmunk.
“Having fun?”
He leans forward. “I don’t want to alarm you but the woman sitting two chairs away from you is on house arrest awaiting trial for a crime in which she cannot speak about. She lives next door.”
“And the one who was cradling your hand?”
“A palm reader. I’m going to live a long, healthy life.”
“So you’ve had about the same luck I have then.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out two crumpled pieces of paper.
“You got their numbers?” I ask too loudly and we get some side glances our direction.
“They weren’t winners, but I am.”
I shake my head. Of course he got numbers.
“This is a fun date.” He leans back and stretches out one of his legs, hooking his foot under my chair.
“You’re just saying that because you got a pocketful of numbers as backup.”
“Wait, you really think I’m going to call the lady who read my palm or the one who can’t go more than a hundred and fifty feet from her home for the next three months?”
“If not them, then maybe one of the others waiting to toss their digits at you.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” He moves my chair closer to him with his foot. “What’s your go-to karaoke song?”
“‘Like a Prayer’.”
He closes one eye and tips his head up to the ceiling like he’s thinking.
“Madonna,” I add. “Do you have a karaoke song?”
“No. When I sing, dogs howl.”
“And still you came.”
“I’ll sing badly for you any time. What do you want to hear?”
“I was looking forward to hearing you belt out a love ballad. Maybe some Bryan Adams.”
He smiles so big at me and he has a fabulous smile. The kind that makes a girl want to hand out her phone number. “Bryan Adams? All right. Good to know. I might need to study up on my nineties ballads. Ever brought a date to karaoke before?”
“No, actually. You?”
“I’ve been on a date that involved karaoke but I’m pretty sure it was coincidental.” He lifts a hand to get the moderator’s attention.
“Everything going okay?” she asks tentatively. So tentatively I wonder what kind of interesting stories she might be able to tell about these speed dating events.
“I’d like to buy her a drink. Whatever she wants.”
When she looks to me, I smile. “Can I get a vodka and Sprite?”
“Sure.”
“And can we also do the question game?” Rhett asks.
Again our moderator looks to me for confirmation so I nod my agreement.
She brings my drink and then hands us each a pad of paper and pencil.
“I’m going to ask you three questions about each other. I hope you were asking lots of good questions and getting to know one another because these are tricky. After each one, I’ll ask you to show each other what you wrote. Each correct answer earns you one minute which between the two of you could add up to a grand total of six.”
Rhett chuckles quietly.
“Ready?” She looks to each of us.
I sit tall in my seat like a good pupil. “Ready.”
“What is your date’s favorite color?”
I laugh. “Favorite color, seriously?”
“It’s the most frequently asked first date question,” she assures me, then adds, “Take a guess.”
Rhett holds the pad of paper up and scribbles something. I take a guess, blue, and we show our answers.
“Did either of you guess correctly?”
Rhett nods enthusiastically. “Yep, love blue. It’s my most favorite color ever.”
“And pink is… also my most favorite color.” We share a secret smile.
“Two minutes,” she says without looking at us. “Next question, how many sexual partners has your date had?”
“That cannot be a question people ask on a first date,” I say.
She looks down at me. “It isn’t, but it makes for really good bar conversation.”
I hesitate, but finally decide on a number. Rhett seems to have a lot easier time deciding what to write.
“Okay, let’s see those answers.”
My stomach is in knots. I’m not sure I want to know the answer to this one.
Before we can share, our moderator gets called to help someone else.
“I’ll be right back,” she says before hurrying off.
“Let’s see,” Rhett says, sitting forward.
I turn the paper around and watch his expression as he sees the number. I went with ten because it felt like a good round number, but I have no idea. “Am I close? I don’t need to know the real number, just let me know if I’ve got the right number of digits.”
He barks a laugh. “You think it’s possible my number has three digits? Like one hundred or more?”
“Yes?” Heat creeps up my neck and face. “What did you guess?”
“Five.” He shows me.
The timer goes off and people move. Except neither of us do.
“Do you want to go sit at the bar?”
“What about the speed dates?”
“I think when you find the person you want to spend the rest of the night with, you’re supposed to stop.” He stands and holds out his hand.
When we get to the bar, I set my drink down and Rhett orders another beer. “And can I get a scrap of paper and a pen?”
“Sure thing.” The bartender gets the paper and pen first.
Rhett scribbles something down and folds the paper and slides it to me. “That’s my real number. Look at it or don’t, but I can’t have you believing I’ve slept with a hundred chicks.” He shakes his head. “Where would I find the time?”
I steel myself for what I’m about to see, then unfold it and gasp. “Really?”
He grins. “Really.”
“I... wow. Really? You’re not fucking with me?”
His chest shakes with laughter. “I’m one-hundred-percent serious.”
“But only one?” I’m shocked. How is
that possible?
“What about you? Do I get the real number?”
I tear off a piece of paper and write my number on it. Like he did, I slide it to him, but when his fingers reach for it, I don’t let go.
“I don’t care what the number is, angel.”
I let go and bring my thumbnail between my teeth while he looks.
“I was close.” He grasps my wrist and pulls it away from my mouth. “Relax. Three is nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed. Not about my number, anyway.”
He takes a drink from his beer and waits for me to continue.
“It’s just this whole time I’ve been worried that you’re some big player and I had it all wrong.”
“Who’s the player now?” he teases.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.”
“Just like that?”
“Should I have made you sing me a love ballad?”
I relax, really relax, for maybe the first time I’ve ever been with him. Then his large palm stretches out on my thigh and all the nerves and butterflies are back. Because if he isn’t a player, there isn’t anything stopping me from letting him kiss me again.
And maybe more.
13
Rhett
Adam knocks on my open bedroom door. “House meeting in five.”
I look up from my phone. “All right, but I’m not taking a shot every time I want to talk.”
House meetings around here tend to end with us solving very little and getting drunk instead.
He snorts. “I already warned Maverick the apartment is dry until after Friday’s game.” He lingers, leaning on the doorframe. “Carrie?”
“Nah.” Though she’s texted plenty, too. “I’m texting Sienna.”
“What’s she up to?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t sent anything yet.” Since we went out Tuesday night, I’ve been struggling to figure out what the next move is.
Adam clicks his tongue. “Maybe say ‘hi, how are you doing?’”
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