by TC Matson
“Sorry,” she murmurs breathlessly.
The power of the pull, the intense urge to kiss her, jumbles my thoughts. It’s been a really, really fucking long time since I’ve felt this.
I want to kiss her so hard her damn lips tingle and are swollen when I’m done. I want to steal her breath and have her moaning into me as I get a taste.
I want her.
And that alone makes me release my grip from her. I need her to want me and not become just another woman I fuck and send on their way. That’s what I’m good at—the unemotional attachments, the one nights of sex and nothing after. But with Brooklyn, I want her to get to know the real Nathan Bennett. The man I am, not the man I’m portrayed to be.
“You’re killing me,” I say thickly and then nod toward the screen above us.
The smile she wears is both perplexed and triumphant. “Yeah. I, um,” she rips her gaze from mine and takes a step away, “I told you I’d kick your ass.”
“It’s not over,” I warn and it’s not about the damn game. The kiss will happen tonight.
She beat me. Not by much, but a win is a win and she’s celebrating way too hard. I chuckle as I watch her shake her hips, but when she does the cabbage patch, I double over cracking up.
We return our shoes and are heading out the door when a familiar face recognizes me.
“Nathan.” Kip Hock, one of my employees in sales, says with a smile. “Strange to see you out and having fun.” His gaze shifts to Brooklyn through his thin-framed glasses just as two younger girls who are his spitting image come to his side.
“Kip.” I shake his hand. “This is Brooklyn.” I introduce her but then quickly turn the focus off her. Too much gossip isn’t good. “I didn’t know you bowled.”
He wraps his arms around the girl with her hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail. “Jackie turned fourteen today and wanted to come to cosmic bowling so her old man could show her a thing or two.”
Jackie dramatically rolls her eyes as she laughs up to her father. “I’m totally kicking your butt, Dad.”
“Me too!” the other girl who looks younger chimes in.
I’m anxious to get away from him. “Happy birthday,” I say to Jackie. “Kip, good luck.”
“You betcha. I’ll see you Monday.” He looks to Brooklyn and nods his head. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Brooklyn replies.
Out on the sidewalk with the fresh air filling our lungs, Brooklyn peers up to me. “You don’t have fun often?”
“My job keeps me busy.”
“Sounds to me you need a new career,” she says.
I chuckle under my breath but don’t respond. The conversation of my job will have to happen at a later time, when I know it’s right. I know when she finds out who I am, it’ll change the way she sees me. It always has. I want to enjoy her being carefree for just a little bit longer.
We walk side by side until we reach her car. “You have a date tomorrow, right?”
Her eyes flash wide. “Crap. That’s right. Yeah.”
I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets. “I’d be lying if I said I was happy for you and I hope it goes well. Truthfully, I hope he’s a dud and the date is horrible.” I smirk smugly.
“I had a really fun time tonight.” She glances to me from under her lashes. “You took my cosmic bowling virginity.” Her eyes close in embarrassment and she laughs.
Reluctantly, I pull open the door. Her gaze peruses over my face and lands on my mouth. She works her teeth into her bottom lip. I want the kiss too, but I know if I start, I won’t want to stop and Beauty has a date tomorrow. How fair would that be?
“Be safe on the ride home,” I tell her.
She blinks up to me dazed. “You too.”
It’s the fucking hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time, but I turn around and walk away.
SEVEN
I’m beyond tired today. I was so worked up over Nathan and the lack of the kiss I so desperately wanted that I couldn’t sleep. I tried to dissect every reason why he didn’t kiss me when I know he felt the same pull I was experiencing. Our chemistry is off the charts. The way he was looking at me, the rush of electricity when he touched me, I just knew he would kiss me. I have never had sex on the first date, or the second, neither the third nor fourth, but he had me so worked up last night that had he kissed me, I don’t think I could have refrained.
Every look he gave me, even under the cloak of black lights, caused a throb to pulse through my body. I yearned for his hands on my skin and his lips on mine. I have never been so turned on.
After getting ready for mine and Declan’s date, I sit on the side of my bed and squeeze the area between my eyebrows. “This isn’t fair.”
I feel like a whore. A date whore. I don’t do multiple dates in the same week with different men, yet here I am no thanks to my best friends.
Declan texted me earlier and said that I needed tennis shoes and something comfortable. He wasn’t taking me out to eat either. I tried probing him for more information, but he didn’t give anything up.
I don’t mind surprises. I like them, unless I know the surprise is coming. Then I hate them.
He wanted to pick me up at work, but I refused and offered to meet him. Seconds after I pull into the parking lot where he told me to meet him at, his large red truck pulls up beside mine and he hops out with a grin.
“Hey, you,” he says “You’re not too tired to have a fun time are you?”
I shake my head. “No. What are we doing?”
He chuckles wolfishly. “Getting hot and sweaty.”
Instead of getting in his truck, he laces his fingers with mine and we start down the sidewalk. He’s a really good-looking guy. His features are sharp—a defined jaw and cleanly shaven. He’s taller than me, maybe six-foot, and he’s slender but by the t-shirt he wears tonight, he’s got a muscular chest and strong arms.
We turn and walk up the steps to a large industrial building. When he pulls open the door, I can’t help but laugh. Trampolines line the entire floor, some on the walls with neon green pads surrounding the edges. Off to the right is what looks like an obstacle course fit with ropes and climbing areas. In the back is a large foam pit. There’s basketball and a caged area for dodgeball. The entire place is roaring from the adults and kids laughing and shouting.
“You’re trying to kill me,” I joke.
He beams. “We’re going to have a blast.”
We change into their socks we had to purchase, put our shoes in our locker, and start out into the park. I haven’t been on a trampoline since I was…who the hell knows.
Declan’s first onto the trampolines. He takes a few bounces and then does a front flip. Yeah. Not this chick. I step on and jump a couple of times to get a feel for it. Braver, I go higher and my arms flap in the wind like a damn ungraceful swan. But Declan is pulling more flips already.
We have the area to ourselves—eight trampolines, several lining the wall, and a small foam pit—as we crack up and jump.
“Try a flip,” he says as he’s in the air.
I look at him in horror. “I don’t know how.”
“Tuck and roll in the air,” he says.
“Don’t you laugh when I break my neck,” I jest and then try.
I flip, but land on my butt. Adrenaline rushes through me and I feel invigorated, determined to land on my feet. Popping up, I try again, all with the same butt-landing results. Declan is my biggest cheerleader as he shouts for me. He tries explaining how to do it, and I swear I do what he’s telling me, but landing them isn’t happening. Each time, my legs shoot out in front of me and sometimes I land face first. Talk about awesome—not.
Declan bounces to the foam pit, jumps a few times and does a stunning backflip landing into the cubes. He pulls himself out, grinning from ear to ear.
“Your turn.”
I laugh. “I can’t do the flip, but I’ll so something spectacular.”
I take a few jumps and
then land in the pit on my back. I’m cracking up, my side hurting from laughing so hard, when he shoves his hand out for me and pulls me onto the pads. We’re breathless as I’m against his chest peering up to him. His brown eyes stare into me soft with warmth. A small smile plays on his lips. But nothing is there. There isn’t a pull, there’s no spark where his hands rest on my back, there’s no desire for him to kiss me and I think he feels it too.
He licks his lips, glances toward the wall, and then back to me. “Brooklyn…” There’s a pause and by the tone in his voice, I know what’s coming. He lets go of me, sliding his hand down to mine.
“You don’t feel a connection. Do you?” I ask.
He offers an apologetic smile and shakes his head. “I like you, but—”
“You don’t have to explain. I feel the same way,” I admit.
“You’re not mad?”
“For you being honest and not leading me on? Of course not. I appreciate it.”
He sits on the pad, pulling me down to sit beside him, and crosses his legs out in front of him. “Truth is, I’m not over my ex.” He chuckles. “I sound like a chump. We dated for a few years, but the deeper I got into racing the farther we fell apart. I told her I’d quit racing to be with her if she wanted, but it was too late. She was done. Out of love. She moved out the same weekend I was gone at a race and that was that.”
“Would you have been happy if you quit racing?”
He stares down to his feet. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe she knew it and wanted you to be happy and that’s why she never brought it up. She didn’t want to come between you and your career.”
Slowly he nods. “Yeah. I wouldn’t put it past her. She had a heart of gold. One of the reasons why I was crazy about her. But we ended up arguing all the damn time.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Seven, eight months ago.”
“Is that the real reason why you moved?” I ask.
He tightens his lips. “It made the choice easier. I no longer had anything tying me down, so I followed.” He looks to me. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I was hoping a turn of events would help.”
I grin. “Don’t apologize. You’ve been fun.” I bump him with my shoulder. “You showed me I can’t play golf and I suck at trampolines.”
He laughs under his breath. “It was fun watching you try.” He gets to his feet and pulls me up. “Thank you for not hating me.”
Reaching up, I give him a hug and for the first time since meeting him, it feels right. “I could never hate you.”
We get back into our shoes and walk to our vehicles. There isn’t much conversation, leaving my overactive brain to start thinking about Nathan and how powerful our attraction is.
“Can I ask you a question?” I break the silence and he nods. “Are you ever too busy to date?”
He studies the sidewalk in front of us as he thinks about the question. “For me? Kind of. I spend a lot of time away. It can ruin a relationship or even the chance of one. From the start there has to be trust and at the beginning stages, that’s what you’re building. There are some months I’m gone weeks at a time because it’s pointless to come home for a day and fly back out.”
“What if you never had to leave the city?”
“A man will make room for a woman he’s interested in,” he says straightforward.
I only nod. Maybe Nathan isn’t as interested in me as I am in him. The thought breaks my heart a little bit.
Declan opens my car door and kisses my cheek. “I had a really good time, Brooklyn. I’m sorry I’m not ready.”
“Don’t be. Take time for yourself. There’ll be a woman to sweep you off your feet. You’re too much of a gem not to.”
He chuckles. “Keep in touch?”
“Sure. Good luck with everything.”
The respect Declan gained from me tonight is unfathomable. For him to be outright truthful and not want to lead me on, that took guts.
EIGHT
My body hates me. Two days after the trampoline park and I’m still barely able to walk. I can’t laugh without tears prickling my eyes from the soreness. Coughs and sneezes are murderous. In high school, I could work out daily, run practices, and play matches without a hint of soreness. I knew I was out of shape, but to this extreme I had no clue.
Cody: Hey Spitfire. You available any day this week? I’d love to take you out.
He texted me an hour ago and I haven’t responded. After clocking out for lunch and making myself comfortable under the shade tree outside, I’m still staring at it and trying to figure out what I should do. I have a feeling he’s setting up Nathan again.
I need girl therapy so I text the group chat.
Brooklyn: Say you REALLY like a guy and this guy has a friend who enjoys motivating him by pushing his buttons and asking you out. What would you do?
Aimee: My head hurts. Is this cryptic? You know I don’t do well with word problems.
Shyla: She means Cody and Nathan. She likes Nathan and his friend Cody is trying to light a fire under his ass for some reason we don’t know to make Nathan jealous enough to make a move on our girl.
Aimee: How the hell did you decipher all that from her text?
Shyla: Because I’ve been following along. Unlike you. That’s why I’m the favorite friend.
Aimee: OMG. That’s not true. I’m her favorite. I’m just not good at word problems.
Shyla: LOL right.
Brooklyn: You’re BOTH my favorite! Now back to my issue. What do I do? Cody asked me out.
Aimee: Has Nathan contacted you since your last date?
Brooklyn: No.
Shyla: I’d ride Cody all the way into the sunset.
Aimee: S, your inner whore has escaped again. Rein that in. B, do you think Cody is truly interested in you?
Brooklyn: I think it’s more to rile Nathan. But who knows if Nathan is truly interested either.
Aimee: Maybe go out with Cody and see what’s with Nathan.
Shyla: If she has to probe for information about Nathan, she doesn’t need him. He should be making it clear he wants her. Girls aren’t supposed to chase. Men are.
Aimee: Can you come back to this decade? What if B makes N nervous? What if N is giving her space?
Shyla: You hear yourself? Space? That’s total bullshit and you know it.
Aimee:
Shyla: I agree. Find out what’s the purpose behind all this.
Brooklyn: What if he wants to go on a date? Should I?
Shyla: That’s a gamble. Is Nathan interested in you?
Brooklyn: Feels like it, but I don’t know.
Aimee: If you go out with Cody, N may think you’re not interested in him. Could backfire.
Brooklyn: And now you know my dilemma.
Shyla: I say call Cody. Talk with him. There could be a legit reason why Nathan isn’t jumping on this. Cody can be your inside.
Brooklyn: You want me to use Cody?
Shyla: Yep. Call him and text us back.
I sigh, cramming a peanut butter cracker into my mouth. Why the hell is this so damn difficult?
I take a swallow of my water as I swipe my thumb to Cody’s name and hit the call button.
“Spitfire!” he calls out when he answers. “Is this where you call and agree?”
“Actually, not quite. First, I want to know why you’re doing this. Are you really interested in me or is this just a show to motivate Nathan?”
Silence falls on the line and then I hear a door shut before he responds. “Here’s the deal. You’ve caught the eye of my friend, but he seems to think he’s too damn busy for a relationship. I know this is untrue. He can make time if he chooses.”
“Maybe there’s a reason he’s choosing not to make time for me? He may not be interested, Cody, and you’re trying to push two people together who don’t belong.”
He barks a hefty laugh. “You don’t know him like I d
o. He’s too focused on other things. He has this mindset that his happiness should wait while he does these other things. That’s where my intervention begins. I know he’s interested in you, so there’s nothing wrong with lighting a fire under his ass to motivate him.”
“And exactly how do you know he’s interested in me?” I ask.
He hums. “Again, you don’t know him like I do. He’s interested.”
“All this seems a bit over the top. Don’t you think?”
“Not at all. That’s what good friends are for.”
“To make him seem like a loser who can’t date on his own?” I retort.
Another laugh bursts through the phone. “The man has no problems finding dates. That’s not what this is about. I know when he sets his eyes on something, he’ll build it from the ground up whether it’s work or a relationship. I’m telling you, that night at Insta-Dates you woke something up in him that I haven’t seen in years. Why he’s not acting on it is beyond me.”
“I believe he’s man enough to make his own decisions.”
“That he is. He just needs a slight push in the right direction. He puts everyone else before himself. Hospitality runs in his blood. Once he focuses on something, it’s all over. It’s all he’s fixated on. All I’m trying to do is force him to see.”
“Again. You’re making him sound like a complete douche.”
“A douche you’re into and concerned about.”
He’s got a point.
“I assure you the man isn’t a douche,” he continues. “I can sit here and list all his impeccable qualities, but that’s for him to show you. All I want is to motivate him to think about himself first.”
I chew on my lip. “I can’t go on dates with you. I don’t think it’s right.”
“How about a drink? After work today at Old Hops? I can fill you in a little bit more about our guy.”
A drink isn’t a date, I tell myself. “I can be there around seven.”
“Perfect. See you then,” he says, his tone holding mischief, and then he hangs up.
What the hell am I doing?
Brooklyn: I’m going to have a drink with Cody tonight.