“You’re shameless,” she muses.
“Don’t you ever forget it.”
After paying, we pick out our clubs, and the color of ball we each want. I choose red and she chooses purple. We walk to the first hole, and I set the cooler down and open the lid. I fetch two cold cans of beer and pass one to Mia. It’s dark out now, but the course is lit up nicely. There are only two other small groups here, but they’re quite a ways ahead of us, so we won’t have to worry about feeling rushed.
“Okay, so here’s how this is going to work. We will take turns, and for every time that we miss a shot, the other one gets to ask a light question. No more heavy stuff. Just fun, random facts.”
“I like that a lot. You get to go first because I want to ask the first question. Here, I’ll hold your beer while you take your shot,” she says, sticking her club under her elbow and holding out her hand.
I place my beer in her hand, line up the ball, and take a swing. Miss.
“What’s your favorite movie?” she asks.
“The Dark Knight.” I say instantly. “Your turn.”
She hands me the beers and lines herself up. She takes her shot and misses.
“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“A Marine Biologist. Honestly, when it came down to it, I just wanted to see the ocean and swim with a dolphin,” she laughs.
I take the next shot and make it. She follows. Misses.
“What’s your favorite band?”
She looks at me like I just asked her to solve a physics problem.
“Um...are you crazy? I have a new favorite band every five minutes. I could never choose just one. It all depends on my mood. I do have a favorite album. Does that count?”
“Yeah, that works.”
“The Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd is easily one of the greatest albums ever made.”
“That’s a great one,” I agree. “You have excellent taste, but I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
“Why, thank you,” she says coyly.
We continue playing for an hour or so, and all too soon, we are coming up on the last hole. By this point, we both realized how much we suck at mini-golf. I can’t be too upset about that, though, because it gave us numerous chances to find out more information about each other.
She learned that my favorite color is blue, my favorite flavor of ice cream is mint chocolate chip, and I had my first real kiss when I was fourteen. She asked about the scar above my left eyebrow, which happened when I was seven. I was jumping on our couch and fell off. My face hit the corner of our coffee table just right, which resulted in a trip to the hospital for five stitches. Mom was pissed. She had told me multiple times that day not to be jumping on the furniture. Lesson learned the hard way.
As for Mia: I know that she has an intense, love-hate relationship with coffee, she’s dying to travel to Australia, and perhaps, most importantly, if she could have one superpower, she would want to move things with her mind. Epic.
She filled me in on what her hometown was like. She told me that the town has a strong Swedish heritage (which, apparently, is a big deal in Lindsborg) and the people are very friendly. She said the town itself wasn’t a bad place to be raised—more like it was the house she was raised in—but she didn’t go into any detail. She also filled me in on a couple of her crazy adventures with Hadley—including a steamy kiss they shared together, which instantly got my mind wandering. I have no doubt she did that on purpose to fuck up my game. And damn it, it worked.
Even though we’re both shitty mini-golfers, she’s technically winning. So, I decide to switch up the rules. That way, no matter what happens, I’ll come out ahead.
“Okay, so since this is the last hole, I’m raising the stakes a little bit. Sound good?”
She looks at me skeptically, but nods.
“If I can make this a hole-in-one, I get to kiss you. Deal?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “And if I make it in one shot, what do I get?”
“Well, I’m inclined to say that you would have the rare and great opportunity to kiss me, but I’ll be nice and let you pick your own prize.”
“Hmmm,” she taps her index finger against her lips. “How about if I make it, then I get to drive your precious Mustang back home?”
No fucking way.
Absolutely not.
Over my dead body.
“Fine, deal. Shake on it.” I stick out my hand, resentful. She grabs it and gives me a firm shake like when we first met. I’m not that worried because the chances of her actually making this are slim. Plus, I’m assuming she doesn’t know how to drive a stick shift.
She sets her ball down and steps back to the side. She bends her body slightly and lines up her club, concentrating on the task. I take the moment to check out her ass in those jeans. Perfection. She takes a few deep breaths and lightly rocks the club back and forth. She pulls back and hits the ball with quite a bit of force, but she has to because there’s a large (mini) hill. The ball hurdles over the hill, but because Mia hit it with too much force, it goes over and down the opposite side, hitting the ledge.
“That’s ridiculous!”
The pouty look on her face is so pathetic, I can’t help but laugh. She’s absolutely adorable. I casually stroll to where she was standing, and set my ball down. I turn back to look at her real quick. “Now remember, if I make this, then I get to kiss you. No going back on your word just because you suck.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine.”
I look down at the ball and concentrate hard on making this shot. It’s lined up perfectly, and I’m preparing to take my swing. At the last second, I switch it up and start moving quickly towards the hole, using the club to slide the ball the entire way down.
“Hey, that’s cheating!” Mia shouts.
I manage to get it over the hill and it sinks directly into the hole. I turn around and point my club in her direction.
“That, my lovely Mia, is called a hole-in-one. I do believe you owe me a kiss.”
“No way. I’m not kissing you after that poor excuse for a shot.”
“Face the facts. You lost that bet and it’s time for you to pay up.”
“If you can cheat to win then I can cheat to get out of the bet.”
“On what grounds?”
“On the grounds that you cheated!”
“First, you reject me, then you defame my character? How far will you go?”
“It’s not a defamation of character if it’s true!”
I contemplate how I’m going to be able to bargain a kiss out of this girl. Suddenly, inspiration strikes like a lightning bolt.
“I’ll tell you what, because I want that kiss so badly, I’ll let you drive my Mustang home regardless of the fact that you lost.”
She opens her mouth to give me a response but then quickly snaps it shut. A moment or two goes by, and she’s still standing there silently. I slowly make my way towards her despite her defensive stance. As I approach, she backs up. I bring the club around her back and use it to pull her body right up against mine so she’s trapped.
We’re standing so close that I can feel her hot breath against the front of my throat where my shirt is open. I place my hand on the side of her neck, just below her ear. I lean in, my face just mere centimeters from hers, and bring my mouth to her earlobe. I gently tug it in between my teeth and give it a playful nip. Her breathing becomes shallow, and it only winds me up more. I want to make this woman completely fall apart in my arms. I exhale directly into her ear and she begins to sway. I drop the club and wrap my other arm around her back.
I nuzzle her cheek and pull my head back just a fraction so I can look into her eyes.
“Admit it, baby, you wanted me to make the shot.”
She tenses up and my hand moves from her neck down to tightly grip her hip. Her eyes look like hot, hazel lava, like she’s melting away and burning with desire. I do this to her. I make her feel this way. And when the time c
omes to have her in my bed, I’ll give her the hardest eruption she’s ever had.
I swiftly move in and fuse my mouth to hers before it’s too late. It only takes her a moment to process what I’ve done, and she closes her eyes and reciprocates. It starts out slow and gentle, but quickly escalates to passionate and frenzied. Her lips are as soft as satin. My heart is pounding so hard; I can feel the throbbing on my lips as I kiss her. She’s matching my hurried pace, and I not-so-subtly slip my tongue in her mouth and massage hers. My fingers slide up the back of her neck and my fist is in her hair, holding her face to mine. She tastes like beer, but her kisses are far more intoxicating than the alcohol.
She places her hands on either side of my face and our bodies bind together like one. It’s a good thing we’re the only ones here, because with the way we’re kissing, it’s not suitable for children...or uptight prudes. It’s taking everything I have not to pick her up and walk her to my car.
When we finally get so low on oxygen, or so high on each other that we’re lightheaded, we break the kiss. I rest my forehead against hers, and take a moment to calm down and listen to our accelerated breathing. That’s twice in one hour that this girl has sent me into a massive tailspin of arousal.
“That was incredible,” I say, breathless.
“Yeah, it was alright, I guess. A little anti-climactic after waiting for you to take the final shot, but whatever,” she pants.
I throw my head back and laugh. God this woman slays me. Kissing her hard on the lips once more, I release her, and reach down to pick up the cooler.
“Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Are you taking me back to my place?”
“Do you want to go back to your place?” I freeze, holding my breath. Say no.
“Not really. I don’t care where we go, but I’m not ready to go back yet.”
“Good, because I was going to take you back to my place for a bit.”
She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow like I’m up to no good. “Is that so?”
“Don’t worry. I told you before that I’d be on my best behavior, and I meant it.”
She gives me a suspicious look.
“Okay, fine, maybe not my very best behavior, but it certainly won’t be my worst. Now let’s get out of here.” I throw my arm around the back of her neck and pull her into me. As much as I hate doing the whole long-term-girlfriend thing, I have to admit, Mia’s growing on me.
SEVEN
a m e l i a
Chase kept his word. We went back to his place last night, cuddled up on the couch, and “watched” a movie together. We kissed until our lips were chapped, making us both all hot and bothered. He ended up dropping me back off at my place a little after midnight. He walked me to the door, and kissed me goodnight like a perfect gentleman. We both agreed that we wanted to go out again this weekend, but he said that he’d have to check his work schedule and get back to me. I hope that isn’t guy code for, “I had a great time with you last night, but don’t count on me calling.”
It’s early in the morning and I’m sitting on my bed reflecting on our date last night. It was flawless. Well, perfect for me, anyway. And that kiss...oh, my God. That kiss topped the list of all my first date kisses. I’ve never felt so much heat and passion fill me up inside. It gives me butterflies just thinking about it. I’m trying to keep my guard up and not read too much into it, but Chase is making that very difficult. It’s usually hard to break through my steel barriers, but when he’s around, all of my common sense just dissipates.
Pitiful, Amelia. Just pitiful.
I hop out of bed and walk out to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.
A couple minutes later, Raven comes strolling out with wet hair, wearing only a towel around her torso. “Good morning,” she beams.
“Morning. Coffee?” I ask cheerfully.
“Yes, please.” She takes a seat on one of the bar stools.
I grab a mug from the cupboard and pour her a hot cup. Sliding her the mug, I reach for another one and pour some for myself. I add a couple spoonfuls of sugar and walk around the center island to take the seat next to her.
“So...how did it go last night?” she asks, eager for information.
“Oh, my God, Rave, I had so much fun. He’s so different from what I was expecting. He’s sweet and charming and funny, but he’s also got just the right amount of bad boy in him, too,” I gush.
“Tell me all about it,” she demands.
“Well, first he took me out to dinner and then we went mini-golfing.”
“Mini-golfing? she asks, incredulous.
“Those were my exact words, too. But it was actually a lot of fun, believe it or not.”
“You know what, now that I think about it, I take that back. I can’t say I’m surprised. That has Chase written all over it. But anyways, continue.” She waves her hand, prompting me.
“To sum it up, we ended up back at his place, but we kept things PG with kissing and a movie.”
“No hookup?” she checks.
I shake my head vigorously. “No hookup.”
“Good kisser?”
“Amazing.”
I proceed to tell her all of the fine details of last night, when all of a sudden, my phone starts playing the theme song from Halloween.
“Shit, that’s my mom.”
“Are you going to answer it?”
“No, I’ll let it go to voicemail and call her back later.”
“You know you can’t ignore her forever, Mia.”
“I know, I know,” I say, exasperated.
“I’m serious. Get it over with. Rip the bandage off. Maybe if you tell her you’re okay, and let her know you need some space, she’ll leave you alone.”
“Believe me, I wish it were that easy.”
Raven forces a small smile and drops it. We continue to sip our coffee in awkward silence. The only sound in the apartment is the ticking coming from the clock on the wall.
I really do wish it were that simple. I wish my mom and I could work things out, but the bottom line is, you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.
Apparently, despite my best efforts, you can’t outrun your past, either. No matter how far you go, and how fast you run, your problems will eventually catch up with you. The only way that I’m going to truly move past all this and get on with my life, is to face the music and call my mother back. It’s certainly better than putting it off and having an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of my stomach all day.
Raven clears her throat uncomfortably. “I’ve got to go get ready for class.”
I turn my head and give her a tight smile.
“What are your plans for tonight?”
“I have to work,” she says apologetically.
“No worries. I have stuff I should get done today, anyways. I need to start looking for a job and run a few errands.”
“I can see if the restaurant is hiring. I’m sure if there’s a spot open, my parents would hire you in a heartbeat,” she offers.
“I appreciate that, but you’ve done enough for me already. I think I’m just going to apply to a few steakhouses around the area. If I have trouble finding something on my own, then maybe I’ll get back to you on that offer.”
“Okay, let me know if you change your mind,” she says, standing up. She walks around the center island, rinses out her coffee mug, and puts it in the dishwasher.
“Hey, Rave?”
She looks up.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks again for the talk. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I know you’re right.”
Her eyes soften. “You’re welcome.”
She starts walking out of the kitchen but quickly turns around. “Oh, before I forget, ACL going on at Zilker Park this weekend if you’re interested. Eric and I got tickets for everyone ahead of time, but one of our friends backed out last minute, so there’s an extra ticket up for grabs if you want it. I also may happen to kno
w something about Chase having a ticket of his own,” she alludes.
My heart jumps at the idea. Austin City Limits is an extremely popular music festival that goes on for a couple weekends in the fall. It’s a big deal, and it’s the first time I’ve ever been able to go. Knowing Chase will be there, too, is like the icing on one very delectable cake. Raven couldn’t have made a better sale if she was an ice water salesman in the Mojave at high noon.
I give her a slow smile. “I adore you.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She spins on a heel and leaves to finish getting ready.
* * *
“Mom, for the last time, I’m not coming back and I’m not giving you any more money, okay?”
I finally worked up the courage to call, waiting for Raven leave for class. It’s close to twelve, which means my mom has already started drinking, but she isn’t incoherent and bitchy yet. This is a calculated move—to call her back now instead of waiting until later in the day. She’s easier to deal with. The reason she called me earlier was to remind me about the house payment that’s due on the first. Figures. This woman usually can’t remember jack shit—my birthday, graduation—but she never fails to remember when I’m supposed to pay the house bill.
“Why not? Do you not care about keeping a roof over our heads?”
“I don’t live there anymore. My home is here now.”
“Well, what about keeping a roof over my head? Do you not care about me anymore? You think you’re too good for this place now, is that it?” she accuses.
I roll my eyes and bite my tongue. This is typical Mom. If she isn’t shitting on me then she’s guilt tripping me.
“No, Mom, that’s not it. I told you I was done. I wasn’t kidding when I said that.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it, Amelia. You can’t just up and move your entire life somewhere. You have responsibilities. You have bills to pay.”
I take a calming breath and try not to let her succeed with her guilt tripping schemes. She knows exactly which buttons to push and exactly what to say to make me feel badly. I’m tired of always feeling guilty for her fuckups.
Take Heart Page 6