by Sky Corgan
“Is that good?” I stare at my pieces, wondering if I should play poorly to extend the game. I don't want him pitching a fit if I beat him within a few moves again.
“I was thinking that if you started going to the gym with her, I could train you both at the same time...for free.”
“Ha!” I lean back.
Caleb gives me a puzzled look.
“Do you really think I'm going to hang out with that witch? She already tried to steal my boyfriend, and we've barely started dating.”
He chews his bottom lip, suddenly seeming distant.
“Seriously. What's wrong with you?” I slap his knee to get his attention.
“You're going to beat me again.” His eyes lock on my queen and follow it all the way back to his knight that's blocking the path to where his king is trapped with no protection.
“See. You're already getting better.” I smile at him. “You caught my next move, albeit a bit late.”
“I'm always late...to everything,” he says, and I get the feeling that he's not talking about the chess game.
“Congratulations!”
It's the first thing that Becky says to me when I sit beside her at work the next day.
“For what?” I glance at her suspiciously.
“Peter confirmed that you're dating, so I believe you now.” She bobs her head like a stupid doll.
“Thanks?” I reply hesitantly.
“You shouldn't get too comfortable with him, though.” She gives me a deceptively sweet smile.
“And why is that?” I swivel my chair to face her, showing her that I'm not going to take any of her shit today.
“Because it's not going to last.” She plays the part of the innocent concerned friend.
“And how would you know that?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Because he's too good for you.”
I inhale deeply to steady myself...because I just want to strangle her to death right now. Then an idea pops into my head. “You know, I could tell Caleb not to be your personal trainer.”
“He told you about that?” She perks up, seemingly happy about the threat.
“Yeah. He told me.” I glower at her. “He told me we should start going to the gym together, too.”
She sulks in her chair a bit. “I was supposed to tell you about that. I'm sorry I didn't.”
“I have a feeling you're not really sorry.”
“Miss Stroop, can I see you in my office?” Peter comes out of left field, a grin plastered across his face.
Normally, I would think I was in trouble. But his expression tells me that's not the case.
I give Becky my best fake smile as I follow my boyfriend back to his office. As soon as we're inside, he closes the door and turns to me.
“What's this about?” I ask, confused about why he'd want to see me so early in the morning.
“I was thinking we could go out on another date tonight.” He rocks on his heels.
I beam from the invitation. “I would love that.”
Peter holds out his palm, suddenly looking concerned. “It's not too soon to ask, is it? I don't want to smother you.”
“No. Of course not.” There's no way he could ever smother me. I'm so elated that he couldn't wait to ask me. It must mean he really likes me.
“I was thinking we could play tennis.”
“No!” the word comes out of my mouth before I can ever stop it.
“No?” He quirks his head back. “But I thought you liked tennis.”
Uh oh. Recovery mode.
“I do like tennis.” It's a half-truth. I like playing tennis with Caleb. Not so much with Peter. I doubt he'll take it any easier on me now that we're dating, and since I've been out of the gym for a while, I'm not sure I can handle the intense cardio of trying to keep up with him. “But I really need to get some swinging practice in for the baseball team. How about we go to the batting cages instead.”
“Oh. That sounds fun, too.” He nods.
Good. Something where I won't have to exert myself so much and it won't feel like a competition.
After work, I run home to get changed before Peter comes to pick me up and we head to the batting cages. I can't decide if I like him better dressed down or dressed up. He's handsome both ways, and I could just stare at him longingly for hours.
I had forgotten about our different skill levels until we actually walk inside of the complex and have to pick which cage to bat in. By the grace of God, all of the fast pitching cages are taken, so we're forced to pick one more at my speed. I smile at my good fortune as Peter allows me to go first, pushing a token into the slot before stepping outside of the cage.
I'm halfway through my first round of balls when I hear an annoyingly familiar voice that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It completely disrupts my focus, and I miss almost every ball before the machine runs out.
“Well I'll be.” Becky saunters up to Peter, stopping just a foot short of him. Close. Too close. “I guess the rumors are really true.”
I fly out of the cage to stand by Peter's side the second the last ball is pitched to me. Peter seems uncomfortable, looking at everything but Becky.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. Seriously, what are the fucking odds? I feel like she's stalking us.
“My brother plays baseball, so I'm here with my family.” She glances back at a cage across the complex. “I saw you guys, so I thought I'd come hang out.”
You're not welcome here. I seethe beneath my skin.
“Shouldn't you be spending time with your family.” Peter saves me from saying something, though he's being much more subtle and nice than I would have been.
Becky rocks on her heels, entwining her fingers together in front of her. I want to punch the pouty look right off of her face. “They're boring and I never get to bat because it's all about my brother.”
“I see,” Peter replies coldly, as if to silently say that's not his problem.
“I was wondering if I could play with you guys.” She finally comes out with it, totally unabashed by the fact that she's ruining our date.
I suck in a deep breath, screaming on the inside. I turn my gaze to Peter, but he seems indifferent. It's obvious he's leaving the ball in my court on this one.
What do I do? Do I play the petty bitch and tell her to go away? What would Peter think if I did that? Or should I show him that I'm the better person and let her stay? I only want him to think the best of me.
“Sure,” I reply between clenched teeth, hating my decision even as the word slips from my mouth.
“Oh, awesome. Thanks.” She perks up as if she hadn't expected me to say yes. Hell, I hadn't either. “I'm a little rusty. Could you help me with my form, Peter?” She takes a step to the side to be closer to him, and my temper instantly flares.
Oh hell no. This is not happening. I'm going to have to take care of this, and there's only one way I know how to do it diplomatically.
Caleb
Willow: Come to the batting cages. I need you here right now. I don't care if you have a client. Tell them it's urgent.
I give my phone a queer look before hitting the call button and bringing it up to my ear. Luckily for Willow, I'm not working. That means I can spring to the rescue faster for whatever she needs.
My heart races as I imagine the worst. Did she get hurt? What happened?
“Hello.” She answers in a hushed voice, and I can hear background noise all around her.
“What's wrong?”
“Come. Here. Now.” Each word is filled with anger.
“Tell me why first.” I lean back against the sofa, realizing that this probably has nothing to do with bodily harm and more to do with some emotional drama.
“I'm at the batting cages with Peter, and Becky showed up.” The disdain is clear in her tone.
“So? What do you want me to do about it?”
“She's all over Peter. I need you to come...distract her.”
“Distract her,” I
huff. “This sounds like a you problem.”
“Please, Caleb. She's ruining our date. I would owe you big time.”
“Alright. But you really do owe me for this. I won't forget it.” I sigh in defeat.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I promise I'll pay you back somehow.”
“Yeah. You will.” She hangs up on me before I even finish speaking, and I scowl at my phone, wondering why in the hell I'm being such a push over.
I don't owe her anything, yet I still find myself climbing into my truck and rushing to the batting cages. The second I step into the complex, I have to take a moment to laugh. Becky is up to bat. Peter is standing against the cage saying something to her, and Willow is a few steps behind, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes burning into the back of Becky's head.
“That is one unhappy girl,” I mutter to myself before approaching them. “Hey guys.”
“Caleb.” Peter sounds surprised. Apparently, Willow didn't relay the message that I was coming.
“Caleb!” Becky abandons the pitching machine to come greet me, even though it's still shooting out balls. It's kind of nice to see how happy she is to see me. At least, she looks more appreciative of my presence than Willow is.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asks.
“I thought I'd get some practice in before Thursday,” I do my best at lying.
What a fucking coincidence that all four of us would end up at the same place tonight.
“Hey look. Another cage opened up.” Willow points to a cage that has just been abandoned. “You two should go over there.” She grabs both Becky and I by the arm and practically shoves us in the direction of the empty cage.
“Uh, sure.” I take her queue and glance at Becky before we head to the other cage. That was so fucking awkward.
Becky scowls. “Well, that was rude.”
“Eh. That's just the way she is.” I look back at Willow, not very pleased with the situation either.
“Not that I don't want to spend time with you.” Her anger quickly drops and concern that she offended me takes its place.
“They just started dating. She probably wants alone time with him,” I inform her as I open the cage door for her.
“I get that, but that's no reason why we can't all still be friends.” She huffs. “I hate people like that, the kind who abandon their friends just because they started dating someone.”
I hate it, too, but that's not what's going on here. “It happens sometimes.”
“Well, it's shitty.” She picks up a bat and steps up to the plate.
“I'm guessing that asking her if she wants to go to the gym with you didn't go so well.” I screw my face, already knowing the answer.
“I don't think she wants anything to do with me.” She swings at the first ball and misses.
“Just give her some time. She'll come around.” I lean against the cage. My gaze keeps drifting over to Peter and Willow. Willow looks a lot happier now that I've taken Becky off of her hands.
“Maybe you should talk to her for me. Tell her that I want to be her friend,” Becky suggests.
“She doesn't listen to me either.” I sigh.
“Then I guess we're both the odd people out.” She smiles back at me, hitting the next ball.
“I guess.” I scrub my hand across my face.
“I feel so lonely seeing them together like that. It reminds me of what I don't have in my life, you know.”
“Yeah. I get that.” I watch Willow beam with pride every time Peter gives her praise for hitting a ball.
“Damn. It looks like my family is leaving.” Becky walks up and opens the cage door. I barely even noticed she'd finished her round of balls. “Sorry I couldn't hang out longer.” She frowns.
“It's fine. I guess I'll just go annoy them.”
“One of us has to annoy them, right?” She giggles and gives my chest a gentle slap with the back of her hand.
I can't help but think that when she's being honest she's not a horrible person.
“Take care, Becky.” I wave at her as she heads back to her family, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder.
She's going to be a handful someday for whoever can manage to tame her.
While part of me knows I should stay by myself and allow Willow and Peter to enjoy their date, another part of me doesn't give a fuck about what they want. Willow dragged me here just to use me. She can suffer my presence. Maybe if I ruin their date, she'll know not to call me next time—that she'd just be trading one problem for another.
“Man. You should have run over and grabbed the 80mph cage when Becky's family left,” Peter tells me, his gaze stuck on the cage that's now being taken over by a group of teenagers.
“I didn't think about it.” I glance back at it, completely jaded.
Willow finishes her round of balls and leaves the cage to join us. “Do you want to go next?” she asks Peter.
“Nah. I'm thinking that maybe we should go for drinks instead. It's too packed here tonight.”
He's not wrong. It's insanely busy.
“Well, I guess I'll head out, too.” I internally sigh. I just left the cage that Becky and I were in, and a couple has already taken it over. And like Peter, I feel like the one that he and Willow are sharing is too slow for me. There's no point in staying here.
“You should come with us,” Willow suggests.
I avoid the urge to quirk my head back. Seriously? She just called me here to be a distraction for Becky so that the two of them could be alone. Why would she want me to go have drinks with them?
I take a step back. “Nah. I don't want to be a third wheel.”
Peter slaps me on the shoulder. “Come on, man. Don't be a pussy.”
“A pussy, huh?” I snort. “Well, if that's what you'll think of me, then I suppose I can come hang out for a little while.”
We leave the batting cages and head to a nearby bar. After ordering drinks, Peter looks over at one of the pool tables in the corner of the room and asks if we want to play. When Willow sheepishly admits that she doesn't know how to play, he seems delighted by the chance to teach her.
It feels strange standing on the sidelines while he explains the rules. Not quite right. I remember teaching her how to play tennis, and tendrils of jealousy snake through me. The only thing keeping me from being completely miserable is the fact that Willow keeps trying to make sure I'm engaged with them. Any second that Peter isn't showing her something, she's by my side.
“Now that I know how to play, I'm going to smoke you like I do in chess.” She elbows me in the side.
“That's some beginner's confidence you've got there.” I quirk an eyebrow at her.
“It's a game of strategy, so I have to be better at it than you are.” She sticks her tongue out at me.
I smirk at how she sees things. Most novice pool players would only be focusing on getting their balls in the pockets. She's already planning her defensive game. It's rather impressive.
Not surprisingly, though, she can't shoot a ball straight to save her life. Her stance is all off. And when Peter steps up behind her, putting his arms around her to guide her into the correct position, I feel my heart sink and my blood start to boil.
There's a moment happening between them. I can see all the signs. Willow intakes a shallow breath. Her eyes grow hooded as she loses all concentration and glances back at him. Peter presses his body a bit too closely, practically enveloping her. His expression reminds me of that of a predator, but there's a softness behind it that I haven't seen when he was with other girls. Genuine affection, perhaps.
Whatever the case, I feel like I'm standing outside of a building, peering in through the window at something I shouldn't be seeing. It's an incredibly intimate moment that I don't want to bear witness to...because it's painful to me. It makes me want to come between them—to tear him off of her because this isn't right. She shouldn't be looking at him like that. Shouldn't even be with him.
And for the first
time I think something that makes me understand the uncomfortable vice grip around my heart.
She should be with me.
Willow
My heart is pounding, and I can't breathe. It's like some magical movie moment you only see in romances. Peter's face is so close. He smells amazing, and I can feel his body. His hands are on top of mine.
There's nothing particularly intimate about what's going on, but it feels so sensual that I can barely stand it.
“You do it like this,” he tells me in his deep sexy voice.
My fingers tremble as he uses my hands to make the shot. The ball goes straight. Peter lets me go and steps away. The moment is over, and my panties are wet.
Everything disappeared around us in that moment. There was no pool table. No bar. No Caleb. It was just...us.
I wonder if this is what sex with him is going to be like. I wonder if the entire world will fade away. God, I hope so. Because this is the best thing I've felt in my life, and most people would think nothing of it. People who have had dozens of flirtations and sexual encounters. To me, it was everything.
But then the moment is ruined by a request that flips my mood on its head. Peter picks up his pool cue and goes to take his shot. He doesn't even look at me as he says, “I want to see a picture of what you looked like before you lost all the weight.”
My horror reaches my face. I instantly glance at Caleb before the word, “No,” shoots from my mouth.
“Why not?” Peter chuckles. Even his handsome visage can't quell the unpleasant knots in my chest.
“Because.”
“Do you have a picture of her?” Peter takes his shot and then turns to Caleb.
“No.” Caleb shakes his head. He seems distant—disconnected from us.
“That's too bad. I would have liked to see. You'll have to show me someday,” Peter says, and then thankfully the subject is dropped, though he dredges it up again once we're in his car heading back to my apartment.
“Am I ever going to see what you used to look like?” he asks.