The Catching Kind

by Caitie Quinn

  “What exactly is the right type of casual?” The sarcasm was more than implied.

  “When you were figuring things out with Max, did I or did I not support you through your stupidity?”

  “Wait, what?” Kasey sounded much more alert now. “Are you interested in Connor?”

  “No. That’s not the point. It’s that when you were being an idiot about Max and your new business and your lack of home and your idiot ex-boyfriend and the fact that you almost got yourself arrested like fourteen times—”

  “Four. Four times. Let’s not get crazy.”

  “Sure. Because almost getting arrested four times in a week is totally normal.” If she needed to be humored, I’d humor her. “And, all I’m asking is that while trapped in this insane world, a little support would be nice.”

  I waited, wondering what was going to come out of this, but I really needed to not have to worry about my girls having my back.

  “You’re right.” Kasey sighed. “I know you’re right. I just think this is ridiculous. And unfair. And I’m worried about you. But, yeah. So, you should wear the Lucky jeans with that black, fitted Guess t-shirt. Add the red necklace you liked with the red ballet flats and put your hair up in a low ponytail. Make sure to wear a warm scarf since you don’t know where you’re going and the warmer jacket Becca got you. Just casual enough.”

  I pulled things out as she named them, half-annoyed I had that many high end brand names in my closet now, and pulled them on while I had her on speaker phone.

  “Oh, this looks good.” I turned sideways to look at the perfectly fitted tee in the mirror. “Why do my t-shirts never look this nice?”

  “First, that is your t-shirt now. And, second, we buy things at stores where the fabric isn’t scientifically engineered to not lose its shape.” She laughed at her own joke as I rolled my eyes. “Hailey, sorry about all that. Try to have fun tonight.”

  “You know,” I edged into my statement, like softly stepping into a room where people were talking about you. “This isn’t Connor’s fault either.”

  I waited, knowing she’d have to admit that if I didn’t fill in the silence.

  “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. You know I’m not pushing one way or the other, even if he’s not the ogre you made him out to be while drunk and pitiful.”

  “Hey.” I cut in. “I was neither drunk nor pitiful. I was just annoyed. And trapped.”

  “I know.” She sighed as if this were all inevitable. “He’s putting you in a tough position with the press even if it’s not directly his fault.” I could picture her pacing around her living room, waving her arms about. Kasey was nothing if not animated. “His agent wouldn’t have had to make this bargain if he could just behave.”

  I bit my tongue knowing no matter what I said the jury was still out.

  “But,” Kasey went on. “I’ll try to like him next time I see him. He sounds like he’s playing nice. As long as he doesn’t do anything to hurt or embarrass you, he’s fine with me.”

  “Wow, Kasey,” I jumped in, knowing that was as good as it was going to get. “Don’t set the bar so high.”

  She laughed as I hung up on her. Fifteen minutes to go before Mr. Punctual arrived and I still had hair and makeup.

  When did my life start to feel like a Broadway show? There better not be singing later.

  I tamped down my excitement. Any girl would be excited to go out with a millionaire with a surprise, right? It had nothing to do with looking forward to seeing Connor.

  That would be crazy pants.

  ~*~

  Connor arrived ten minutes early.

  If he was going to deviate from the plan, we were going to have words. I still had to do my makeup and make sure my ponytail was fuzz proof and figure out what earrings went with the necklace.

  “Hey.” He pushed his way into the apartment and looked at me and frowned. “You’re already ready.”

  “Um, no. I’m not.” Obviously.

  “But you look ready.”

  “I don’t have makeup on yet.”

  “Well, you don’t need that junk, then.” Connor wandered into the kitchen and pulled the scotch from above the fridge. Pouring himself a glass, he went and settled into the leather chair. “See? This is how a date starts.”

  “Really?” I asked, trying to catch up from the accidental compliment. “That’s why you’re early?”

  Part of me was ridiculously happy I’d bought the stuff. The other part of me was annoyed that while I went on primping, he got to hang out having an insanely marked up glass of liquor in a really comfortable chair.

  “Yup.” He took another sip. “But, don’t let me distract you.”

  Picking the remote, he turned the TV on. I shouldn’t have been surprised it was still on SportsCenter.

  Connor must have this down to a science, because he was taking the last sip of his drink as I came out and grabbed my jacket.

  After getting ready with him lounging in the other room, I began to wonder what it was like to deal with this every day. How glad was I that my life as a writer mostly involved being around my girls, writing for my readers, and wearing yoga pants?

  “You look cute.” He grinned at me and I tried not to roll my eyes at the word cute.

  “So, where are we going?” I figured I should check before we left in case I needed to update my look. Not that I’d know how to update it.

  “Nope. It’s a surprise.”

  That was not going to help me. “Do I look okay?”

  “I told you, you look cute.”

  “I mean, do I look right? For where we’re going?” I swatted at the panic rising up.

  “Sure.” He held my jacket out for me to slip into as I contemplated not killing him.

  ~*~

  The cab drove us downtown. Every time it slowed, I thought we might be at our destination. But, it took us all the way to the arena and pulled into the VIP parking. Connor gave me a goofy smile.

  “I thought we’d go low-key tonight.” He paid the cabbie and slid out, holding his hand to me even though a girl in flats and jeans could hop out on her own.

  Or, at least I think most of us could. Maybe really tall model girls can’t. Their giraffe legs got in the way or something.

  “We’re going to a game?” I’m not sure I liked the sounds of that. I wasn’t really a sports fan and Connor was…well, fan is a weird word to use for a guy who other people were fans of.

  “Yup. Courtside seats. We can hangout and chill and not worry about interacting with people.” He grinned. “It’s one of the few events we can go to and security is there to keep people away from a place we just happen to be.”

  Okay. That didn’t sound so bad. But…

  “Are you going to feed me or not?” Because, honestly, as far as dates went, that’s all that really mattered to me at this point. Food was always an important part of every evening. Maybe he didn’t expect me to eat anything. Did the giraffes eat when he brought them out?

  “I would pay half a million dollars to know what you’re thinking right now.” He ushered me toward the arena, giving me the side-eye as we went.

  “Really?” Because that would solve a lot of problems.

  “Um, no.” Connor laughed, dropping his hand to my back and steering me to a side entrance where he flashed some credentials. “But, yes. I will be feeding you. They have people who take care of that. You can have whatever you want. There’s a really nice restaurant. We could have something brought down.” He paused, and I could see he was thinking something over. Food did not seem very controversial to me. “Or, if you wanted, we could go eat up there.”

  I glanced up at him looking straight ahead and realized he was playing nice. If I wanted to go up to a restaurant to eat for part of the game, he’d take me. Chivalry in the face of missing out on his favorite pastime.

  “Well, as long as you’re going to feed me, we can eat wherever you want.”

  The look of relief was almost comical. “Great!�
��

  We got to another security guard and Connor went to flash our credentials again, but the guard beat him to it.

  “Mr. Ryan. Mr. Johnson called ahead to make sure your tickets were waiting for you. Mike will show you to your seats.”

  A young man in a team shirt stepped away from the wall and motioned for us to follow him. “Mr. Ryan, it’s great to have you here.”

  Connor stuck his hand out toward the teen. “It’s Connor. How’s it going, Mike?”

  I thought the boy was going to pass out. “Connor. Wow. Nice.” He shook his hand, not letting go as Connor smiled at him.

  “This is Hailey.” Connor motioned to me with his head since his hand wasn’t free.

  “Oh. Hailey Tate. I think you’re so cute!” The teenager turned bright red after he said it. “I mean—”

  “Thanks, Mike.” Finally. It took a fifteen-year-old to appreciate my not-quite-hotness.

  Connor freed his hand to slap Mike on the back. “A man after my own heart.”

  By this point, we were coming out of a tunnel right at court level and ushered to our seats in the front row, just off to the right of the bench.

  “I asked for seats off to the side since you’re so little. I know center court is great, but you’d never see over those guys.”

  That was oddly sweet. Connor wrapped my hand in his huge mitt and glanced around like a kid excited to be at his first game. Our seats were lower than I expected, forcing Connor’s knees up.

  “You’re a fan, right?” He looked anxious, like this was a make or break question. If we were really dating, I’d be worried. “I mean, you like basketball?”

  “Yeah. It’s way better than baseball.” I grinned, waiting for the retort.

  “You’re a pain in the butt, Hails. It’s a good thing you’re adorable.”

  “You’re just saying that because Mike said it. Now you’re competing with a fifteen-year-old.”

  “It’s only competition if I might not win.”

  I had no idea what to do with that. But… “You sound like Dane.”

  “Dane?” That sounded suspiciously like a curse word. “There’s no way I sound like that—him.”

  “I don’t know. Apparently he thinks you guys are competing too.” I laughed, because, seriously. When did this become my life? As if I was going to date either of them, let alone marry them.

  “What does he think we’re competing over?”

  I was glancing around the arena, not paying attention, otherwise I might have noticed the absurd tone of voice he asked this in.

  “Me.” I snorted.

  “Really?”

  “Yup. I guess in a few years Dane is going to get bored dating and marry me.” I still couldn’t say it with a straight face.

  “He’s what?”

  Connor’s tone finally broke through and I shifted my gaze to meet his, surprised to see how annoyed he was.

  “Marry me?” I suddenly wasn’t sure why this conversation wasn’t the ha ha ha I expected it to me.

  “He thinks he can just sleep around until he runs out of women, and then you’re just going to trip over your feet to jump into bed with him?” His eyes had narrowed to little slits as he glared at me as if I were the one running around sleeping with people and discarding them.

  “Um, I guess he’d assume we’d sleep together, but the bigger issue is he thinks we’re getting married.” I rushed on because Connor’s ears were tipping pink at this point. “Or, that’s what Jenna thinks.”

  Connor gave me a hard look, completely different than the at-ease one he’d carried when we’d sat down. “You’re not going to marry him, right?”

  “Seriously, Connor? Of course not.” Why were even having this conversation?

  “Good.” He sat back, dropping his arm across the back of my little seat and snorted. “As if there were any real competition there.”

  I patted his leg, figuring everyone was way too out of control. “I know, right? I don’t know why he was worried.”

  It took him a second before he realized what I’d set and let out an affronted huff.

  Served him right.

  NINETEEN

  Basketball was surprisingly exciting when seven-foot guys kept running by you with a piece of hard rubber that could break your nose. Connor had a rough time staying in his seat as things got tight. He was all but trying to rush the court to help as we fell behind.

  Most of the fun was from just hanging out with him. He’d been right about us going low key and not having to worry about people. Apparently being in the VIP section meant there was an invisible fence around us.

  He spent a large portion of the night trying to win me over to the world of the sports obsessed. I was less than sad to disappoint him. At halftime, Connor pulled it together enough to ask me what I wanted to eat.

  “Can I have a beer and a pretzel with cheese sauce?”

  “A beer and a pretzel?” He looked like I’d asked for filet mignon and champagne.

  “Well, I saw those other people with beer and pretzels and nachos and that looked good.” It felt very what you eat at a game to me.

  He gave me a smile like I’d bought him a gift. “Do you want nachos too?”

  “I don’t think I could eat that much.”

  “We could share them.” He waved over the server who seemed to appear out of the nowhere.

  “You’d share your nachos with me?” Most of my boyfriends weren’t much on sharing food.

  “Sure. If we eat it all, we can just order more.” Connor gave our order to the girl. He turned back to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder while he grinned and kissed my temple. “You are the best girlfriend ever.”

  I laughed, surprised that was all it took to make him happy. A basketball game and beer and nachos.

  When the game ended, I was afraid of Connor getting mobbed, but we were pointed toward an underground exit just off to the side of the court.

  We wove through the small crowd of people in the secure tunnel, pushing through the heat toward the cool night air.

  “That was so fun. I can’t believe I’ve never been to a game before.”

  “Well, sorry to have ruined you for all other games, but sitting courtside is pretty much the only way to do it.” Connor smirked, proud of himself for doing what no other guy had done…get me to a basketball game.

  “That was a great way to spend one of our nights out.” Which, yes. I was keeping track in my head. A countdown back to normalcy, if you will. I needed it to stay grounded. “Thanks.”

  “I was thinking we could grab some coffee and pie at The Brew on the way home. See what kind of chaos Abby is creating tonight.” Connor flagged down a cab, which of course stopped right in front of us.

  Golden boy.

  “Actually,” I put a hand on his arm to stop him as he reached for the cab door. “I have to go home and work. I need to get this outline and proposal to my editor by the end of the day tomorrow and with everything going on I’m really far behind.”

  “Oh.” Connor looked at me as if this was a new idea. That I might actually work. “Right. You have to do stuff.”

  “Work stuff,” I added because he looked as if he thought I was trying to blow him off politely. Especially since part of me was blowing him off. After talking to Kasey I realized I needed some space. I got that we were on a mission, but I’d never spent this much time with a new boyfriend and I just wanted some time away from him.

  It wasn’t that I was falling for him. It was that I wanted to make sure I didn’t. Space was a good thing. For any type of relationship. Ever.

  And moving to the Arctic was shockingly not an option.

  “No. I know. Work stuff.” He grabbed the handle, and motioned for me to slide in before him. “I’ll just drop you off and you can see how much you can get done tonight.”

  He gave the cabbie my address then picked up my hand, running a thumb over the back of it. As the lights went by, I rested my head against the back of the seat, try
ing to get myself in writing mode before I got home. I was behind. The downside of my faux boyfriend was that, unlike a real one, I couldn’t put him off for a few days. The deal with Connor meant meeting my obligations to the T.

  Plus, he was just so much fun. I really enjoyed hanging out with him.

  “How far behind are you?” he asked, sounding a little worried. Which was sweet.

  Again with the sweet.

  “Not horribly. If I just work late tonight and then deal with all of it tomorrow, I’ll probably have enough to hand in.” I was never late. I might push the very boundaries of what that looked like, but I was never actually late.

  This wasn’t going to be the first time.

  The cab pulled up in front of my house and Connor let me out on the sidewalk side, leaning in to tell the driver to wait.

  “I’ll walk you up.” He motioned toward the door and waited for me to lead the way.

  “You don’t have to do that.” Because, why should he?

  “Yes. I really do.” Connor gave me a small push against my lower back to get me moving and, at the front door, took my keys to let us in.

  We climbed the stairs, me already in my story world, Connor climbing behind me. At my door, he used my keys to let us in and paced the floor for a moment. I watched the nervous energy get caged while I hung my coat up and tossed my purse into my room, hoping it hit the bed so I could find it again later.

  “What exactly are you doing?” I asked when he did another lap around my little living room.

  Connor stopped, glanced my way, and shook his head. “I’m thinking about how long it would take me to say goodnight to you if we were really dating.”

  Yeah. Eye roll.

  “Okay, got it.” I shoved him toward the door. “Out you go.”

  “No. No way.” He stood his ground, becoming an immovable object. “There’s no way that if I was kissing you goodnight, you’d kick me out that quickly.”

  “You’re actually paying a man to sit in a car and wait for you. Do you know how much that costs?”

  “Less than my reputation.” He shot me a grin, as if his reputation were really worth all this and not the reason he was stuck pacing my apartment in the first place.