“You don’t really have that option, when it comes to some of my rules,” he says, and winks at me. “You’re still living under my roof of course, and I’m funding a portion of your college education, and I don’t need certain things flaunted in my face.”
He says it in a jesting manner but my mouth still drops open a bit.
How could he possibly know about…?
“I know more than you think, too,” he says. “Your old dad is smarter than you give him credit for as well.”
“Umm. Okay,” I tell him, feeling tongue-tied.
“I want to trust your judgment, Chelsea. I just want you to be careful.”
“Okay Dad,” I say, hurriedly backing out of his room before I give myself away. “Nice talk. Thanks a lot.”
“You too,” he calls out after me.
How does he expect me to be careful when I’m knowingly walking into a risky situation?
I don’t know how much he knows— or thinks he knows— or how, but I’m not about to fall into his apparent trap and give up my secrets. Wesley clearly needs to keep his spot on my dad’s team. And I need to let loose and take a walk on the wild side with Wesley, without getting my entire heart caught up in the matter.
That should be a simple task.
Anyone could do it.
Anyone except those cheerleaders at his other school.
But I’m wiser than they are. I know exactly what I’m getting into, and I want to.
And there’s no way I’m spilling my guts to my dad and ruining it just when it got started.
Chapter 22 – Wesley
“You’re going to love this place,” Chelsea says as we approach the amusement park. “I know… at first you’ll think it’s such a cheesy old amusement park compared to what you’re used to in the big bad city.”
I gulp, feeling as if my stomach is practically tied in knots. I’m more nervous than I usually get during a big play-off game. But I try not to let it show.
I’m not about to tell Chelsea that I’ve never been to an amusement park. That I’ve never ridden a roller coaster.
“And I know it’s not super big or glamorous,” she continues. “But it has an old fashioned charm.”
My stomach lurches so I don’t say anything. Plus, it’s kind of cute to hear her chatter on about this place, which she obviously likes a lot. It’s touching that she wanted to bring me here, even though it would definitely not be my choice of places to go with her.
“If you’ve ever wondered what a ‘quaint’ amusement park might look like, this is it,” she rambles on. “And even though it doesn’t have many roller coasters, the few that are here are actually really fun. They don’t have a lot of bells and whistles like all the new rides at all the big parks, but that’s part of what makes them fun. They’re just made well, you know? They stand the test of time.”
“Uh huh,” I answer, without really answering.
I don’t want to give away any sense of my fear.
I’m Wesley Reynolds, fucking fearless football leader. And I intend to stay that way in everyone’s mind, most importantly Chelsea’s.
But as she points to a looming roller coaster and says, “The Beast! That one’s the best!” I feel like I’m going to hurl.
Trying to change the subject from the huge free falling roller coaster up ahead, I ask her, “So how do you know so much about this amusement park?”
“Oh, I’ve come here since I was a kid.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, at first my mom took me when I was a kid, so that was fun of course. But then I came back a lot as a teenager. It’s more of a hangout for younger people, and I knew every nook and cranny. Still do, really. Because now and then I like to come back and reminisce, and ride all my favorite rides all over again.”
I wonder who else she’s come here with. Guys, I mean. As I try to put that image out of my head, though, all that’s left to think about is the roller coaster. I really don’t know which one is worse.
As we walk towards it, I decide it’s time for a new plan of action. Hell, if I can change plays on the field, I know I can do it at a fucking amusement park.
“Let’s not hit the rides just yet,” I tell Chelsea.
She gives me a funny look, but I just shrug nonchalantly and say, “We can’t do the most exciting thing first, or we’ll be bored for the rest of the day.”
“That’s what you think,” she says. “But how do you know the roller coaster is the most exciting thing we’re going to do all day?”
She gives me a sexy wink, and my knees go weak for new reasons.
“That’s a very good point,” I respond.
I like this sassy side of her.
But not enough to ride that damn roller coaster.
“What do you have in mind instead?” she asks. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?”
So I can throw it up? I think.
But I say, “I was thinking I’d win you a stuffed bear at the shooting range game, or something.”
“I like the way you think,” she says, and I take her hand as we head over to an area full of games.
It’s mostly full of kids too little to ride many rides, and I feel like an idiot for making us come here. I should just man up and go on the damn ride with her. But when I even think of trying to do it, my age old fear comes back. So I concentrate on shooting the target in the game I’m playing, although apparently I’m no good at it because my score is really low.
“I think I might need a practice round,” I say, grinning confidently to hide the fact that I feel like a fucking idiot. “I’ll win you multiple stuffed animals, as soon as I remember how to play this game from my youth.”
Chelsea shakes her head, with a flirtatious look in her eyes, and says, “You never need to practice anything. You’re just good at it. You must be too caught up in your secret date. But fine. I’ll go get us some cotton candy.”
Damn, she’s hot. And I can’t help but watch her walk away. I notice that all the other guys are doing the same thing.
Then, just as I’m about to turn back around and try my hand at this game now that she’s not here to distract me, I see one of the guys reach out and grab Chelsea’s ass.
“Hey!” she says, spinning around to slap his hand. “Stop it!”
He quickly reaches up and grabs her arm.
“What’re you gonna do about it, little girl?”
I’m there before I even realize what I’m doing. It’s just instinctive. I wind my arm back and sock him right in the nose.
“Umph!”
He falls to the ground with a thud, letting out a noise that’s as unattractive as he is. He’s fat, ugly and disgusting, and I’m glad I knocked him out. Chelsea doesn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of meat, or manhandled by that moron.
I only have a second to see her grateful, dazzling smile before I feel a punch to my own nose. Stunned, I look around to see that a friend of the moron is trying to take me out.
No fucking way.
I return his punch, but I soon feel another one from someone else. Two people are punching and kicking me. I’m surprised the moron has so many friends.
I swing around and quickly knock down both guys. Then I spin around again, wondering if there are any more. In the meantime, one of them gets back up and comes at me yet again.
“Break it up!” someone shouts, blowing a shrill whistle that’s even harder on the ears than the one that Coach Thompson uses.
It’s the cops— or at least some wannabe amusement park security guard cops— and they start walking me out, along with the other two guys. The first guy is having some trouble getting up. I really knocked him out cold.
My first thought is of Chelsea. I can’t leave without her. I look around and see her hurrying to join me from the crowd. Good.
My next thought is that I can’t get arrested. I’ll be kicked off the team. But luckily the guards just walk me to the turn styles and say, “Get out of here and stop causing trouble.�
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“But he didn’t start it…” Chelsea protests, until I look in her direction and whisper, “Shhhhh.”
I don’t want to press my luck. I’m glad I’m not being punished too severely.
And secretly I’m glad to be getting kicked out of the amusement park and basically being told not to return. It’s like a wish come true, and Chelsea will never have to know why.
She’ll continue to think of me as a bad ass, and we can move right on to the “most fun” part of the date that she’d mentioned earlier. With the fear of the roller coaster off my mind, my cock rises to the occasion, ready to explore something more intimate than a public amusement park.
Chapter 23 – Chelsea
As soon as we’re out of the gate, I head over to the ice cream truck that’s always parked out front, so that people waiting in line to get into the amusement park can buy snacks. Luckily for us, though, at this time of day there’s no wait.
“One super sized ice cream sandwich, please,” I tell the bored looking kid manning the cash register.
“Did watching me flex my muscles and beat up those assholes make you ravenous?” Wesley asks me. “Because it’s a strange time to decide to get a snack.”
I laugh and hand him the cold package of ice cream.
“No, this is just the closest thing to an ice pack that I could think of,” I explain. “You sure got punched pretty badly.”
“Oh, come on,” he says, with a shrug. “This is nothing compared to what I did to those other guys. You saw them! The one who started it can’t even get up off the ground.”
“Yeah,” I say, allowing a small smile to spread across my lips. “You really did teach him a lesson.”
I sit down on a nearby bench and take the ice cream sandwich back, since Wesley hasn’t yet applied it to his face. I hold it up to his eye, but he only tolerates it for a minute, before shaking his head and taking it off.
“What a caveman,” Wesley says. “Thinking he can go around grabbing random girls’ asses. I hate guys like that.”
“Well, thank you for defending my honor,” I tell him. “I appreciate it.”
He removes the packaging from the ice cream sandwich and begins eating it.
“So much for letting me take care of you in return,” I laugh.
“No, no, no,” he says. “You got it wrong. You have to let me take care of you. First by punching out some assholes ass-grabbers, and then by letting me feed you some ice cream.”
I look at him, still laughing.
“Come on. You have to try this. Have a bite.”
He puts a small piece of the ice cream sandwich in his mouth and then moves in closer to me. I take a bite and our lips meet, ice cream and chocolate covering mixing with our tongues and lips.
I know this move is so cheesy. Straight out of a Disney cartoon. And yet a chill runs down my spine that mixes with the cold taste on my tongue and all my sensations are heightened.
I also feel my heart warming back up, at the same time my body gets cold. I had sensed so much hesitation in Wesley that I was starting to think we might be over before we’d even really started. But now he seems back to being his relaxed, easy-going self, which is strange, since he just got into a big fight and got kicked out of the park.
He kisses me deeper, and murmurs, “We should go somewhere more private…”
“I know just the place,” I tell him, taking his hand and leading him around to the back of the fence that closes off the entrance to the amusement park.
“I hope it’s still here,” I say, mostly to myself.
I’ll feel like an idiot if I’ve made him walk all this way for nothing.
“You hope what’s still here?” he asks.
I run my hand along the fence, tracing it with my fingers.
“The back entrance used to be the front entrance to the park,” I explain. “And then they sealed it up so that there was only one entrance. But they forgot that resourceful kids know how to slit open a fence covering in just the right spot…”
My hand makes contact with the opening. It’s such a small gap that no one would know it was here, unless they had helped make it, like I had, many years ago.
“Ah-ha. Here it is.”
I pull open the covering to reveal a hole in the fence, which used to be just large enough for a kid to fit through. I’m no kid, but luckily over time the fence has ripped even more and the hole has become larger. I hold my breath and squeeze myself though until I’m on the other side.
I’m proud to know that my handiwork has withstood the test of time. I wonder if any of my childhood friends besides Taylor still remember— and even use— our little trick. And if anyone else has ever found it.
I like to think I’ve made the world a happier place by providing free, secret admission to an amusement park that has passed its prime.
“Ta Da!” I say. “We’re back in. They can’t keep us out.”
“Woah,” Wesley says, but he sounds more intimidated than impressed. “Look at that. How’d you even know about this?”
“I told you. I’ve been coming here for ages. I know everything there is to know about this place.”
He peeks his head through the opening.
“Where are we even at?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’re not exactly back where we started,” I admit. “This is the old part of the park, and now it’s abandoned.”
Looking relieved, he shimmies through the fence but gets stuck half way through. Together we push the metal rungs of the fence further apart, until he can just barely slide himself the rest of the way through.
“It does lead to the new part of the park,” I tell him. “So don’t worry. We can still ride the Beast.”
“The Beast?”
“The roller coaster we were heading towards, until you told me you were going to win me a stuffed animal first,” I remind him. “Which you never did.”
“There’s still time,” he says, puffing up his chest like he’s sure he can win me the prize. “I just have to come up with some disguise so the rent a cops don’t recognize me and kick me back out.”
He laughs, as do I.
But there’s something hesitant, almost fearful, in his voice.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I mean… I just don’t want to get caught. I’m on thin ice as it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just… you know, as a player on the football team. We can’t get into any trouble.”
“Yeah, I know.”
It’s similar with cheerleading. All my life I’ve had to be nearly perfect, lest I mess up my cheerleading career and the stellar reputation my dad wants me to have. And now, being at the same college where he coaches— and partly on his dime— I’ve had to be even more careful.
But I’m willing to risk all of that for Wesley. In fact, it excites me. I want to be like one of the bad girls from high school, and do naughty, dirty, filthy things under the old abandoned roller coaster. I’m sick of being a good little girl, but I only want to change for Wesley.
“Come here,” I tell him, and I take him to my favorite former secret spot, under the neglected, rickety wooden roller coaster.
I lean close for a kiss but he pulls away, distracted.
“What?” I ask him, peering up into his dark brown eyes, which look moody if not distraught.
“I just can’t help thinking… of who else you’ve brought here…”
I roll my eyes, nearly disgusted at his jealousy.
“No one!” I tell him. “Other than Taylor.”
He looks at me as if he doesn’t believe me. And that hurts.
I’m mad that he’s spoiling the good time that I’d planned for us.
“Look, Wesley, I guess I haven’t made it clear, but I was never allowed to be with boys. And I didn’t even want to be. This was my spot. Just for me. And Taylor sometimes too. We’d come here to talk and I’d come here to be alone and think.
After…”
“What?”
He puts a finger on my chin and lifts my face back up towards him.
“After what?” He repeats.
“After my mom died.”
I look back down, surprised that I’d said anything.
“It’s not something I usually talk about,” I tell him. “I never know how to talk about it. When you asked me about the book I was reading…”
“Yes?”
He looks genuinely interested, and so caring that I want to cry.
I’ve never had a guy look at me this way, listen to me this way.
I’ve never even given any other guy the opportunity.
“My mom left it for me. She was reading it right before she passed away. It’s a book of poems by Pablo Neruda. I especially like the ones that talk about grief.”
There are a lot of love poems, too, but I could never relate to those. Until recently. I don’t tell him this part though.
He takes my hand and traces my palm as I speak.
“She owned his whole collection. Well, except for one book that was only in Spanish and never translated into English like the rest of them. She didn’t know Spanish so she didn’t see the point in owning it. And it’s pretty rare, too. But sometimes I wish I had that book so that I could complete her collection. I even took some Spanish classes with the hope of maybe translating them.”
I pause.
“I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense. But I guess I think that if I could translate them then maybe wherever she’s at, she can see that I did that for her. Maybe she can actually even read what I translate. I know it sounds dumb…”
Then Wesley leans in and kisses me. It’s passionate, but it’s also tender.
“It doesn’t sound dumb at all,” he says. “It sounds very smart. And very loving.”
I feel torn, my mind returning to thoughts of what I’d wanted to do with Wesley here and now, while also lingering on thoughts of my mom in the past.
“It’s so weird now, about Taylor’s…”
Knock Me Up, Boss: A Bad Boy Office Romance Page 80