Trouble With the Curve (Learning Curve #2)

by Felicia Lynn

  “Buttercup, the lock was left open intentionally. We have permission. It’s all good; no one will be arrested tonight. But if you want to play that game later, I’m sure I could find the resources necessary to restrain you.” He quirks his brow questioningly, and because I refuse to succumb to his sexy grin, I just huff and flap my feet as an unspoken order to put me down. He doesn’t.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he requests. I ignore it, hoping he’ll put me down so I can figure out what’s going on because this is making me nervous.

  “Whose land is that? How did you get permission? What are we doing here? What’s on the other side of that fence? I just want to go back home,” I spit out quickly as he continues.

  “Wrap your legs around me, buttercup,” he demands this time, without answering any of my questions. Again, I ignore him. He stops walking and looks up at me curiously. Full of the bitchy attitude that seems to have inhabited my body over this past week, I glare down at him, daring him to demand my legs again.

  It wasn’t the best move. He smiles that stupid cocky grin that makes women melt into a puddle of ooze and instead throws me over his shoulder again. I saw it coming this time, so I don’t scream again, but I do pinch his butt as hard as possible and hope it leaves a bruise as he continues to the gate.

  ***

  Okay, so I was wrong. This is amazing. On the other side of that fence was an apple orchard and just beyond that, a clearing of land next to a big pond with a wide beautifully crafted wooden deck where we’re sitting now on a fluffy quilt Ty packed.

  The calzones we picked up on the way from the new little pizza shop near campus, Gem City, have been consumed. Maybe it’s possible part of my attitude was a result of my hunger. Ty seems to think so since he said he’s glad I’m not ‘hangry’ anymore. HA. HA. He’s so funny. Whatever. I could drown him in this pond if I wanted to, but I’d miss him too much, so I won’t.

  The skies are clear, and so many stars are twinkling in the sky. I lie back on my elbows, mimicking Ty beside me as I enjoy the view above us.

  “Isn’t it ironic that the darkest nights produce the most stars?” I ask, looking up and searching for the Big Dipper and Little Dipper.

  “But when you’re looking at the stars, you forget how dark it is, buttercup. That’s the point. I figured if it’s going to be dark for a little bit, I might as well take advantage of the time and watch the stars with you.”

  I have to blink back the tears burning my eyes. I don’t want to cry anymore. He feels bad enough. I just want to enjoy this time.

  “This is nice. You know, hotshot, no matter where you are or where I am, we can both see the same stars on clear nights. This could be our thing. Our way to connect when the distance is tough,” I tell him, unable to hold back the stray tear that falls.

  Without even realizing he was watching me, it becomes obvious when he catches the tear with his finger then touches it to his lips. I laugh. “I thought you were watching the stars with me?”

  “They’re just as bright in your eyes, Charlie. I like this view better,” he says, not even bothering to pretend he’s going to look away and watch the stars in the actual sky. Can he really be this perfect?

  “Mr. Stone, I think I love plus you all the way to the moon.”

  (Two Weeks Later)

  MY CELL PHONE VIBRATING on the bar in the kitchen would normally be a motivating factor to pause my couch potato session, but it’s not. The only reason I’m currently getting up is because I’m hungry, and I know there’s leftover pizza in the fridge. I wish I’d appreciated the joys of cold pizza sooner. Now I’m addicted. I may never eat hot pizza again. That’s probably a lie.

  With two slices of pepperoni and cheese wrapped in a paper towel, I grab my phone off the charger on the bar and head back to the couch to commence Hallmark movie binge watching. While stuffing my face, I press resume on the remote, and because I’m also a multitasker, I check the missed call log on my phone. Since I already talked to Ty this morning and wouldn’t hear from him again until late this evening, my guess was Trace. I was right; four missed calls plus six texts. I don’t bother with the voicemails right away and go straight to the texts.

  Trace: Are you ignoring my calls?

  Trace: I know you’re not sleeping. What are you doing?

  Trace: Girls’ night tomorrow? I miss you.

  Trace: Wine & books chat. It’ll be fun. What are you reading now?

  Trace: I know it’s been a tough couple of weeks. Mom’s worried you’re not eating well since you only come to the pub every few days. You should go there today. If you don’t, Dad’s probably going to make a home delivery. Just a heads-up.

  Trace: Seriously, Charlie! This isn’t cool. I’m getting worried. Why aren’t you responding?

  Me: Hi. Sorry, my phone was on the charger. I’ve been binge watching Hallmark movies. Time flies when you’re being lazy. Ya know? ;)

  Trace: You’re in so much trouble. Just sayin’. Girls’ night is moved up. It’s tonight. Get your ass in the shower. Jamie’s picking you up on his way home.

  Me: No, tomorrow is better. And if Jamie’s picking me up, it’s not a girls’ night, so I’ll drive.

  Trace: HA. NO. You lost the chance to have a say when you refused my calls and didn’t respond. Soooo . . . new plans. Go with it. Girls’ night is tonight. You have nothing going on and no excuses. And get dressed. Jamie is definitely picking you up, and he’ll take you back home later. See ya. Also, ;) ß your winky face was fake, and I know it.

  Me: Remember when I said having siblings was amazing? I lied.

  Trace: Also, FYI. Since you won’t be there for Dad’s delivery, Mom’s coming to girls’ night. With food. ;) ß So cute.

  Me: I’ve been waiting all day for the new movie premiering tonight. SMH. Now, I’m going to miss it. :/ ß For Real.

  Trace: Why do I get the impression you’re still on the couch? Whatever. Record it. It’ll be there tomorrow. Tonight, you’ll rediscover why you love your siblings.

  ;) ßNew Fav

  Me: :/ :/ :/ :/ :/ My life.

  ***

  “I can’t believe he’s already been gone two weeks. How’s it going with the team?” Jamie asks as he preps the food with Trace while I sit at the bar unraveling the napkin around my Sprite can. Pretending I’m happy to be here has been a challenge.

  “He’s good. Everything’s going great with the team. He seems to like everyone, and training has been productive. He’s usually exhausted at the end of the day. I’m sure when he comes home on Thursday, he’s going to crash into a coma for the four days he’ll be home.” Not that I actually care. I’d rather be snuggled up to him sleeping than falling asleep at night listening to each other breathe through the speakerphone.

  This long distance thing is harder than I thought it would be. If Jamie and Trace only knew how close I was to throwing in the towel on next semester and following Ty . . . even if he’s still living in corporate apartments and not settled yet.

  “I know you’ll be so happy to have him home. I almost cried when I saw the picture he posted of the night’s sky a few nights ago. I swear that guy is trying to melt the panties off every breathing woman.” I flinch inwardly. I’m not sure I’ll ever be completely comfortable with his expanded fan base of females, but not because they’re a threat to me. They just don’t really know him the way I do.

  I have a screenshot of that, and if she realized I look at it about a hundred times a day, she’d be shocked. It was a picture of the stars on a clear night in Rhode Island over the ballpark after a game. “You’re my sky full of stars, buttercup. Hope you made a wish. I did. L+u.” He posted it on his Instagram then shared it everywhere else. I’m sure Trace isn’t the only one who thinks that was for show, but I don’t care. It made me smile when being strong felt overrated. I was on his mind, and he wanted me to know that.

  “Nah . . . I think he’s just trying to melt the panties off one woman. The others are just collateral damage,” Jamie says
nonchalantly, bringing me back to the present. I smile coyly. Jamie definitely gets it. I think it probably takes a good man who loves a woman unconditionally to really understand. Trace is lucky to have him, but I think she knows that too.

  “When will Maisey be home?” I ask, attempting to change the subject.

  “Mom took her to dance for me. They should be here any minute. Mom told her you’d be here when I was on speakerphone in the car. She begged to skip dance class. She’s missed you. I’m not sure she’s excited about her dad-daughter movie date anymore. She’s going to want to dump Jamie for us, I’m sure,” Trace whispers the last part, but the groan from Jamie proves he didn’t miss it.

  “She’s not going to rush and grow up just so that she can hang out with you women for girls’ nights, Trace. Not happening. Even if our movie date is her second choice, it’s still going to be her only option. We’ll stay for dinner so she can spend time with Charlie, but then we’re out of here,” Jamie announces.

  Maisey is a precious little girl. I feel kinda bad having not made much time to spend with her lately. We used to spend a lot of time together before things got busy. I miss it.

  While Jamie and Trace casually chat, I flip through the stack of books Trace left on the counter she thinks I’d like. We love to exchange books. I busy myself looking at them, but in reality, I’m in my own head. I don’t think I could read a book right now if I wanted to.

  My world isn’t okay right now. I miss him. Too much. I’m really not sure I can handle it much longer. That’s a lie. I can handle it if I have to, but I just don’t want to. Two weeks is nothing in the grand scheme of things, but with the unknowns of how long this arrangement will last, it’s so much harder. It’s definitely something I want to talk to Ty about when he gets home this weekend. But that’s another thing—I don’t even know exactly when he’s coming. This lack of plans is leaving me unsteady.

  I pick up my cell phone and check for a text from him. Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything anyway, but I guess I was hoping for a surprise. I shoot one off to him instead.

  Me: Thinking about you. Hope you’re having a good evening. L+u. <3

  The front door slams, and I hear the pitter-patter of little feet running and turn to face the direction of the sound with a smile. “Charlie!” Maisey exclaims.

  “Maisey, sweet girl. It’s only been two weeks since I’ve seen you. What happened? I thought you agreed to stop growing. My goodness. I’ve missed you.” She giggles when I scoop her up in a big hug and dangle her legs.

  “We tried! But I don’t know how to stop growing up. Daddy even tried to Google it, and he couldn’t find any information on the stop-growing-up vasssination,” she tells me with a goofy big-toothed grin. Setting her down, I scowl playfully.

  “Well, there must be a good doctor out there somewhere that knows about the stop-growing-up vaccination. Otherwise, explain to me how it worked for Peter Pan.”

  “You’re silly, Charlie. Peter Pan isn’t really real. It’s just a story.” Looking at me like I’m completely ridiculous, she shakes her head while giggling.

  Sue walks in the room with a bright smile and heads straight for me. When she gets close, she grimaces. “My sweet girl, I’ve missed you these past few days. How are you holding up? Are you getting enough to eat? Why do you look so tired? Are you not sleeping well? Maybe you should come stay with us while Tyler’s gone so we can take care of you.” I laugh but smile, feeling truly grateful to feel genuine motherly love as she pulls me into a tight embrace.

  “Doesn’t it feel great to know how much you’re loved and at the same time realize that you apparently look like shit? Only a mother’s love can confuse your emotions that way,” Jamie bellows from the kitchen, and Sue shoots daggers his direction with her eyes.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Jamie. Don’t make me tell your father you’re picking on me. By the way, he’s on the way. He didn’t want to miss the family dinner. He’s going to join Jamie and Maisey and make it a grand dad-dad-daughter date,” Sue announces. Maisey cheers, telling everyone that Grand Dad lets her have as much candy as she wants at the movies, and Daddy only lets her pick one treat.

  “Maisey, show Charlie the book you made. She’ll be so excited,” Trace calls out, and Maisey skips off happily, as is normal for the sweet kid.

  It still shocks me how tough that little girl is in spite of everything she’s had to endure and overcome. She’s perfectly healthy now, but I could never admit with a straight face that her cancer returning isn’t one of my biggest fears. I know I’m not the only one who thinks about that occasionally, but we all pretend we don’t. Her hair is finally almost completely grown back to her shoulders, although it’s a much lighter blond than the brunette color it was before her chemo. But you wouldn’t know all that she’s been through just from seeing her prance around like the typical nine-year-old.

  She runs back into the room and takes me by the hand, guiding me to the couch with her. The stapled construction paper book with colorful drawings and pictures printed on copy paper decorate the front. In bold colored letters, Maisey has written, “Reasons my aunt Charlie is special.” I squeeze her tight and kiss her forehead. “I love you, sweet girl. I think you’re pretty special too,” I whisper to her.

  She shrugs. “ I know.” And we all laugh at her casual confidence. She opens the book to show me her scrapbook, explaining it to me picture by picture. She’s spent a lot of time working on this. It’s precious. I’m not sure there could be very many things more precious actually. My heart is aching with love and cries at the more heartbreaking photos of Maisey and me together when we first became friends, and she was spending time at the children’s hospital. Page after page with three years’ worth of memories.

  There are even more recent photos of Tyler and me with Maisey. Maisey holding up the newspaper with Ty on the front page of the sports page the day after the draft. Maisey and me at the zoo, watching the monkeys and both grinning while Ty secretly snapped the photo and texted it to Jamie. A picture of Trace’s kitchen counter with cupcakes spread across for the taste test we spontaneously held after buying a cupcake in every flavor from the bakery when we couldn’t decide. Even one of my personal favorites—Ty and Maisey on his bike. Her first ride on a motorcycle was really only to the end of the street and around the cul-de-sac, but she was so excited, you’d think she went a million miles.

  Tears stream my cheeks, and I know I’m a blubbering mess. Maisey and I talk about all the pictures while I try not to get any tears on the pages. I’m not sure what I did to deserve to have this sweet girl in my life, but I pull her in for another tight hug while she teases me for crying. As I’m holding her in a squeeze and refusing to let her go, Trace looks at me with an odd expression over Maisey’s shoulder. Then I look up to see Sue doing the same.

  Sometime while I was distracted by Maisey’s precious book, George arrived. So I stand up and go over to him to give him a hug instead of trying to figure out what Trace and Sue are thinking. I’m sure they’re trying to decide if I’m about to have another nervous breakdown. Meanwhile, I want to know if they still have hearts, and how they were able to look at that book without crying themselves. Whatever.

  Dinner is served and consumed quickly, and I decided pizza might be amazing, but home-cooked meals are priceless. My pizza obsession may be coming to an end. I was even able to make it through the dinner only having to redirect the conversation three times from George and Sue’s recommendation that I move back ‘home,’ to their home, while Ty is away.

  Now Jamie and George are heading out for a date with Princess Maisey. She keeps saying she’s too old to be called that, I refuse to accept it. She’ll deal. At least, she knows I love her. I say goodbye and check my cell once again for a text from Ty. Still nothing but I send him a picture of the front of Maisey’s book with a message letting him know I can’t wait for him to see it. Then I head to the restroom before the girls’ night chatter commences.


  As soon as I walk back into the living room, Sue and Trace are sitting silently, arms folded, eyes trained on me. What the hell?

  “So . . . how long have you known?” Trace says accusingly.

  “Um. Know what? What are we talking about here?” I ask, completely confused.

  “Sweetie, how long have you known you were pregnant?” Sue asks, innocently.

  “What? Are you both crazy? I’m not pregnant!” I shriek. They look at each other, communicating something I’m obviously clueless to. “I can’t believe you both would think that. I think everyone in the entire world is going crazy,” I huff.

  “Well, it just so happens I have some pregnancy tests leftover in the bathroom from our attempts a couple of years ago. So let’s just go see if those tests are expired and be sure,” Trace says. Leading me back down the hall toward the master bedroom, Trace rushes with Sue behind saying she’s sure those tests don’t really expire and just have those dates because of stupid laws.

  IT’S SAFE TO SAY, I didn’t sleep much last night. Not telling Ty the news when he finally called in was the hardest thing ever. And even though I know we agreed to no more secrets, I feel like this secret is up there along the same lines as his proposal. It’s a good surprise, or at least, I hope he sees it that way. We’ve talked a few times about one day adding little responsibilities to our lives, but we’ve never really set a timeline. I know this timing isn’t perfect, but it still feels like a blessing.

  As soon as I got home last night, I ordered everything I needed to reveal the news to him when he gets home in a few days. Even with paying a small fortune for overnight shipping, it was totally worth it.