Crazy Thing Called Life

by R. P. Fischer

  Before I know it, the topic I've been dreading to talk about comes up, but I'd rather get it over with than to wait a few weeks from now.

  She hesitantly speaks, "So I've wanted to clear the air about this now. Hear your side if you don't mind sharing."

  "You wanna know about the pictures and stories?"

  She tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear in embarrassment for wanting to know.

  "I know you mentioned them on our flight to Napa, but with the whole panic attack thing, I sort of forgot. And it's not something I really wanted to talk about over the phone ya know?"

  Her unease is evident across her face as she glances down at her plate. I grab her hands and make sure she's looking at me when I start.

  I'm mortified that I asked about the tabloid incident, but he doesn't seem upset. More like relieved that I asked him his side of the story.

  I'll admit my curiosity got the better of me, especially after my dad's worst-case scenario story over Christmas and the fact that my fantasies have increased. His face is plastered all over town and my dream-conscious life takes over more than I'd like to admit.

  I listen intently as he begins his story. "It's fairly simple and very cliche. Once my playing took off, I broke up with my ex-girlfriend, Lauren, to focus on training. She was pissed because she thought we would be Houston's power couple. The wannabe runway supermodel and pro-football player. I had gotten sick of the groupies shortly into my career and she was no exception, but I still dated a decent amount after hearing about the guys all hooking up with the same ones." He shrugs. "I just assumed she understood the busy life because she was always traveling, too. Plus, don't hold this against me, but I was drunk when I met her and she latched on. She was the first attempt at a girlfriend in a long time."

  A large and slightly jealous boulder settles in the pit of my stomach when I think about him with the groupies. He grabs onto my hand that was holding onto the table and it shrinks the boulder.

  He continues. "When I broke up with her, she tried to sell naked pictures of me with other women to a tabloid to try in an attempt to get back at me, run me through the mud by adding on that I had severe anger issues, like damaging public property, and that I was a selfish diva. Lucky for me, thanks to specific locations of my tattoos and some testimonies, my publicist proved her false. Sadly, the damage was still done to my reputation. People believed what they wanted to rather than asking me for the full story. My publicist still suggested I keep myself out of the limelight so that no one would fuel Lauren's fire. I can still get mad about a flat tire, I just can't throw the actual tire in anger. And for the record, I have never cheated on a woman, and I never will."

  I look down at my hands clasped tightly. It sickens me that people could be so petty and drama-filled just for a little glimmer of fame. Lauren kind of reminds me of Tara, and I would hate to see anyone I know involved with a person like that. They're poisonous to have around and can suck the life out of a good time if they're in a bad mood.

  Colin's voice takes on a curious tone. "I guess since we're getting this ex-relationships thing out of the way now, I should probably ask about yours. As much as thinking about you with another guy makes me want to claim you until you can never remember another's guy name ever again, I want to know if I have any competition."

  The mood has only slightly shifted lighter at the thought of him being jealous. How quickly the tables turned for that. "First, I would've never agreed to a date if I was with someone else or even open up to you as much as I did." I smile at his relieved stature. "No one holds a candle to you, Colin. I've had limited relationship experience. I had a little high school boyfriend, but we broke up when I found out we were moving to Houston, and then I had one in college. We lasted a couple of years, which is stupid to waste all that time, but I was still getting used to my mom being gone. In the end, he wanted to sow his wild oats, and I wanted something more stable but with passion. Someone to make me feel alive again and still be there for me. Ever since, I've had a lot of first and a few second dates, but nothing seemed to fit."

  "Trust me, Natalie. This fits and even if some random guy walked in and confessed his love for you right now, then my rage-filled side just might pop out. I'm more than determined on the field and at the risk of feeding Lauren's crap, I'll fight for what I want off the field, too. To me, there's a difference between being determined and being aggressive.” His eyes glaze over with lust before he continues, “As for the passion, I gladly volunteer to give some passion back to you over and over until your voice is gone from screaming and you can’t walk straight for days."

  Oh good wine in heaven. The images of him giving me anything over and over with passion is making the temperature rise in the room to feel like summer. In an attempt to bring more levity to the conversation and ease out of the topic, I ask, "You do realize that the beard you have right now makes you look more like a bad boy, right? Why not keep it all year round?"

  I know I’ve caught him off guard with my questions, but if his smile is any indication, I brought up a strange conversation. He scrubs the beard like he had forgotten he had it.

  "It's actually fairly simple. Massive sweat under helmet plus beard equals itchy face. Not my idea of a good time."

  I laugh at him. "You really are just a giant dork underneath all that media junk aren't you?"

  He pulls open the menu and points at the long list of wing flavors. "Yeah and this dork is gonna eat twice as many wings as you."

  I scoff, "Ha. we'll see about that. Just 'cuz you pack on the calories during the season doesn't mean you're gonna beat me. I told you, wings are an essential food group."

  He raises his brow at me and smirks under that beard. "Care to make it interesting?"

  I look up at the ceiling for a minute before a devious smile spreads across my face. "If I win, I want a Colin Shaw calendar. Twelve months of you."

  His face gets a devilish look, probably thinking of all the ways he could tease me with a calendar. "I'll take that. If I win, then you come with me to the charity golf tournament next week."

  We each order twenty wings, and I prepare to shovel them all down before he's done with two. He thinks I'm kidding, but wing night was big at my house, especially after moving to Texas. We had national food night several times a month at the winery and wings became plenty. I dab on some extra hot sauce and prepare to make demands on what kind of pictures I want. If there for my eyes only, then I will be greedy as hell.

  Somehow I got my ass handed to me. I blame the fact that watching her bite into the juicy meat with an open mouth and closing her full pink lips around the bones distracted me. Hearing her moan at the how good the food tastes made my pants tighter with each sound.

  Now I get what some of my teammates and even Grant were talking about whenever they discuss the days of falling for their wives.

  Every little thing about her is turning me on and worming into my heart. As much it should make me run in the other direction, I find myself wanting to take this head-on. No looking back.

  When she tosses her napkin onto the table and takes a drink of water, I adjust myself in the seat without attracting too much attention from around us. I'm glad we got a booth or else some people might get an eyeful of the bulge happening right now.

  Her laughter eases more of the anger I've had for the last few months, but it doesn’t help the tightness in my pants. Fuck me, I'm gonna need to relieve my dick again after I drop her off.

  After wiping her hands with the little, wet towel from the table, she points her finger at me and makes her demand. "There better be pictures with your tongue piercing visible. I never knew you had it until the day you brought Fuzzy in."

  I grab her hand from the table and pull one of her fingers into my mouth, sucking on it as if it were her nipple, circling the piercing around the top of her finger. If her gasp and slight moan are any indications, I think she really fucking loved what I just did.

  I smirk at her. "So you really like the pie
rcing? Part of my rebellious collegiate youth. Too lazy to take it out, and you seem to like it already."

  She's nearly breathless when she speaks. "The ladies and some men of Houston seem to appreciate it also since you're a fan favorite. I guess your rebellion worked in your favor."

  Showing her my sad, puppy eye, full smile combo, I try a request. "Well, I'm hoping you'll be at the end of that favor. I was wondering if you'd still join me at the golf tournament. It's a great event and I think you'd enjoy it."

  Her eyes gleam with mischief. "Are you gonna chase the balls after they're hit? I know it's a big green field, but you don't need to catch every ball that goes flying in the air."

  Standing up from the table and tossing probably too much cash on the table, I grab Natalie's hand and lead her from the restaurant. "You really are a minx, you know that?"

  She tucks her hand in my elbow and a big part of me loves that she trusts me to be a gentleman for her. The other part of me is controlling my dick to stay down from having her skin on mine. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Shaw. Can't have you getting an even bigger head now can we?"

  I cage her in once we get to my truck and bend myself until we're eye to eye.

  "Don't you worry about my big head. I'll take care of it tonight thinking about you."

  Natalie's amazing apple scent surrounds both of us and the pull I've felt in my body since the moment we met blazes between the two of us. Her lips are calling to me in a way I've never known, and I have to have the full experience. The closer I lean into her, the harder I get and the more I need to feel her against me.

  To taste her on my own lips and tongue.

  I take a nip at her bottom lip, and her whimper is all I need to know to dive right in for a real kiss. Her lips are made for mine with every passing touch. She's holding onto my biceps and digging her nails into my shirt as I push my tongue past the seam of her lips. Her taste is nothing I've ever had before.

  It's not just the hot sauce that's making me burn inside.

  Waking up at five in the morning in mid-January for a charity golf tournament was not high on my list of Saturday activities. Why I agreed to do this was beyond my normal brain functions without coffee. I don't even go for runs this early in the morning.

  I blame Colin's subliminal hot male persuasion with that calendar and adorable attempt at a sad puppy face. Now, I need a plan to get him back.

  Colin said he'd pick me up at six for the pre-tournament breakfast and mingling at the golf course. Downing a cup of coffee and filling up my biggest travel mug, I gather my IDs and extra money and tuck it in my phone case since Colin mentioned the tournament would provide everything else we might need. I'll just leave my keys in his glove compartment and trust what he says.

  A knock on my door sends flutters through my stomach knowing who's on the other side of the door. I pull open the door to see Colin looking extremely delicious.

  New fantasy dream for Natalie tonight.

  The maroon dry-fit polo with the Rams logo on the side fits perfectly to his chiseled chest, and his extremely sexy abs are visible through the flimsy fabric. Part of his tattoo peeks through the collar—he knows this drives me crazy, right—and the rest trails down his elbow. His khaki pants mold perfectly to his solid legs, not hiding the bulge in front, and making me wonder what the backside looks like.

  Yummmm.

  His blond hair is hiding under a white baseball cap with the logo from the athletic company that he signed with.

  This is unfair to look that sexy this early in the morning.

  "Natalie, it is you who is the unfair one. That dress is killing me."

  Oops. Guess I said that out loud. He still knows he's sexy. I look down at the scoop-neck, long sleeve skater dress that fits perfectly to my hips, then flares out to a little above my knees. It's cobalt blue with a little white belt that I matched to my white wedges, which add a little height to me. I wanted to dress classy casual since I know cameras will be there, and I wanted to make a good impression with Colin. The color of my dress brings out my eyes, and the long sleeves will keep me warm during this cool day.

  Plus, I love the idea of making him salivate over me a little. Ego boost!

  He stands to the side as I leave the house and lock up the front door before walking us to his truck. His hand on my lower back sends warmth over my entire body.

  I look up at the truck and then down at my dress. Colin senses my unease. He opens the door and lifts me up like I'm just a pillow he's going to toss across the room.

  I settle in the seat, drop my coffee into the holder, and put my keys in the glove box before I forget while he gets the truck going.

  I look over at him and watch his perfectly muscled arms drive through the streets of Houston.

  I ask, "Are you looking forward to today?"

  He laughs for a second before replying, "To tell you the truth, I almost backed out of the tournament."

  "Why?"

  "My shoulder is considered healed, and the team doctor gave me the okay as long as I stop the minute it starts to hurt, but I'm nervous."

  I scoff, "You? Nervous?"

  He looks at me briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.

  "Did I tell you the pro they paired me with?"

  I smile. "Yesss. Thomas McLain is awesome! I'm so excited for you to be paired with last year's U.S. Open winner. Dr. Schultz is addicted to golf and was probably more excited than I was when I told him the match-up."

  "Yeah well, I'm a half-assed golf player. I'll be lucky to keep up with McLain."

  I put my hand on his elbow and rub gently to settle his discomfort. He grabs my hand and runs his thumb over my knuckles.

  I reassure him, "You're gonna do great, Mr. Shaw."

  He kisses the tips of my knuckles before continuing our conversation. "The winners of the event get $500,000 donated to the charity they picked beforehand. Each pair chose a different charity ranging from the homeless shelter to juvenile diabetes."

  "What did you and Thomas pick?"

  He looks at me with a soft smile. "Breast cancer research. Even if we lose, I still plan on donating in your mom's name and to the other charities."

  My heart swells and a few tears form in my eyes. I quickly swipe them away and squeeze his hand.

  Shakily I say, "That's probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Colin."

  He takes my knuckles back to his gorgeous lips. "It's an important cause, and I know it means a lot to you. We're almost to the club, so be prepared that we might be on camera. Is that okay?"

  I nod at him and look back at the tree-lined road that leads us up to the country club hosting the tournament. As we park in the participant's lot, Colin helps me down from the truck and walks me up the registration tent, keeping a firm grip on my hand.

  Thomas McLain is standing in the refreshment tent close by, enjoying his pre-tournament breakfast. He spots our entrance and walks up to us.

  "Colin Shaw. Famed wide receiver. How are you doing?"

  They do a quick handshake and make small talk before Colin's hand is on my lower back, gesturing to me.

  "Thomas, I'd like you to meet my date, Natalie Lyons."

  "It's a pleasure to meet you, Natalie. I'm sure you had much better things to do with your Saturday than watch a bunch of us duke it out on the course."

  The Thomas McLain is shaking my hand. For a man in his forties, he is quite the fox with his wavy, dark brown hair sprinkled with a little gray and laugh lines in the corners of his warm brown eyes. He's wearing a light pink polo with the breast cancer awareness symbol and white pants. Colin told me he got the athletic equipment company to donate to the event also so Thomas is holding the white logo hat as well. I blush at Colin's words of me being his date before I return the handshake.

  "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. McLain. This event seems to be all about great causes, and I for one, am ecstatic to be here. Colin told me the charity you guys picked, and it's very near to
my heart. I lost my mom nine years ago to breast cancer. I wish I could be more involved today."

  A look of sympathy crosses his face before he pulls me into a tight bear hug. Damn, I thought Mimi had the tightest hugs, but apparently, this golf king does, too.

  He lets me go and holds onto my shoulders, looking down at me. "Then the honor is all mine, dear. And please, call me Tom. My wife, Nancy, is roaming around here somewhere if you'd like company." He turns to Colin and says, "You keep this young lady. She's a sweetheart. Now hurry up and get your clubs while I track down my wife for Natalie."

  The day goes by in a flurry of hilarious golf trash talk with a mix of celebrities and Houston's elite. I feel a little out of place around some of these people, but Tom's wife, Nancy, has been amazing. She and I follow the guys around the course while sipping on some wine, and we talk about my life on the vineyard. She said that she and Tom love trying new places on the west coast and will definitely be looking to stay at the inn.

  As we near the eighteenth hole, the guys are barely in the lead and I'm nervous because one of my favorite actors, Sam Tanner, from the latest war flicks and last year's women's golf champion, Linda Yang, are not far behind.

  The one thing I hate about golf is how quiet it is. My nerves are frayed, and I'm grasping onto Nancy's hand as everyone's in putting distance. Sam Tanner's a decent distance away, and I'm sure one of the pros could easily make it, but he gives it his best shot. He makes it in two strokes and then it's Colin's turn.

  He's about the same distance as Sam and lines up his club to the little hole from where his ball lies. He takes a few seconds to breathe before he putts. He gently taps the teeny white ball and my eyes are glued as it sails across the grass and plops into the cup!

  HOLY CRAP!

  Before Nancy and I can run to Tom and Colin, a tall, overly tanned and too skinny black haired woman runs up to Colin and wraps her arms around his neck. She's kissing his face and neck while he's trying to fend her off.