Second Chance: A Military Football Romance

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Second Chance: A Military Football Romance Page 98

by Claire Adams


  “It’s all set,” she said. “He even sounds sexy on the phone. You better go home and find that bathing suit! I’ll pick you up tomorrow at quarter to 10.”

  And just like that—it was decided.

  Chapter Nine

  Graham

  It was probably foolish to agree to go to the beach, but I didn’t know any man that would be able to turn down an offer like that, even if he wasn’t planning on taking it any further than lying out under the sun during the best hours, which, apparently, were between 10 and 2.

  We met in the Nauset Beach parking lot. They’d arrived first, and I spotted them as I drove around. Instead of parking, though, I stopped behind Tara’s convertible and threw the truck into park.

  “You gonna park that thing?” Tara asked. She had on a pair of tiny, cut-off jeans and a bright pink bikini top, which essentially consisted of two strategically placed triangles of fabric and some string. She was tan and taut and had oiled herself up. Chloe was wearing one of those flowing, coverall things, made out of a sheer material. She had a big, floppy hat that the wind was trying to blow off her head, and white suntan lotion smeared on her face. She was struggling to get a cooler out of the back of the car.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” I said. I hopped out of the truck and lifted the cooler out. “I have an idea, though—how would you ladies feel about going to the outer beach?”

  “Um, fuck yes,” Tara said. She looked over at my truck. “You’ve got a sticker?”

  “I do,” I said. I looked at Chloe. “How does that sound?”

  She seemed either nervous or unwilling to look at me; I wasn’t sure which it was. Probably it had something to do with the way I had left things with her yesterday, and I didn’t totally blame her. I sure as hell wasn’t trying to be one of those guys who fucked with people’s heads just for the fun of it. I’d make it up to her today; I’d be friendly but not overly so, and neither of us would have to feel weird about any of this.

  “How’s your arm?” I asked.

  “You did a great job,” Tara said before Chloe could answer. “I will definitely be coming down there.”

  They grabbed their towels and beach chairs and threw them into the back of the truck. I put the cooler in there as well and then they climbed in, both of them getting in the front, despite the truck actually having a back seat. Tara, of course, was in the middle.

  I aired down the tires to the recommended eleven psi, and we drove to the back end of the parking lot where the entrance to the outer beach was.

  “So,” Tara said as I slowly navigated the truck through the soft sand. “I’m really glad that you were able to join us today. I actually had somewhat of an ulterior motive in asking you.”

  “Tara.” Chloe said it under hear breath but I still heard her.

  “This sounds interesting.” I shot her a sideways glance. “And what exactly might this ulterior motive be?”

  “I realize it’s going to sound a little ... I don’t know, strange ... but I was thinking that since it’s such a beautiful day out, and since we’re actually going to be going to the outer beach, maybe you’d pose for a picture or two with me.”

  “Are you an aspiring model?”

  She laughed. “Oh, you’re too kind. No. I’m nowhere near tall enough. Like I said, I know this is going to sound a little juvenile, and you can totally say no if you want, but it would just be to post one or two of them on a few of my social media accounts. I wouldn’t even use your name, if you didn’t want.”

  I nodded, waiting for her to continue, but she didn’t. “I feel as though there’s something else you can add to this that will suddenly make it make sense,” I finally said.

  Chloe leaned forward and turned her head to look at me. “It’s to make her ex-boyfriend jealous.”

  “I know it sounds silly,” Tara said quickly. “But, you’d really be doing me a favor, because my ex is an asshole and he left me for someone else, despite telling me that he planned on us getting married.”

  “Eh ... I’m not that big on social media,” I said.

  “Maybe it could just be the two of us standing there, and your back could be to the camera or something. We wouldn’t have to see your face.”

  “I find it a little hard to believe that I’m the only prospect you have to make this ex-boyfriend of yours jealous.”

  “This is just something that I want to do, like, yesterday.” Tara started digging through her purse. She pulled out her phone and started tapping at the screen. “He’s been posting pictures practically every fucking minute of his trip, and I just feel like he’s doing it to try to get a reaction out of me.”

  “Which he totally is,” Chloe said. “Don’t feel like you have to do this,” she added. “Michael is a total weirdo anyway, and everyone was glad when they broke up!”

  “What about you?” Tara asked. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  “Nope.” I slowed the truck down. “How does this spot look?”

  We’d driven past most of the other vehicles and had a nice stretch of beach all to ourselves.

  “Perfect,” they both said at the same time.

  I parked and then helped them unload their stuff. Tara promptly spread her beach blanket out and lay down. Chloe took some time setting her stuff up and then took her coverall off, revealing a much more modest two-piece than the one Tara was wearing. Still, she looked great. She caught me looking and I tried to cover it up by asking if anyone wanted to go swimming.

  “In that water?” Tara asked. “Hell no; it’s going to be freezing.”

  “I’ll at least stick my feet in,” Chloe said.

  Tara grinned. “You two have fun. Be good.”

  Chloe put her sun hat back on and we walked through the soft sand down toward the water. I stopped before we got to the surf, though, and she looked back at me.

  “The best way to go about something like this is to just run right in,” I said. And before she could reply, I did exactly that.

  The water was ice cold. I mean, yeah, it was almost July and the air temperature was getting closer and closer to the 80s, but the water felt like it was about 50. I let out a strangled-sounding gasping shout when I resurfaced, water streaming off me, arms flailing.

  “Holy shit!”

  Chloe was still on the beach, laughing. “You’re insane!” She took a few steps closer and a wave licked the tips of her toes. “That water is so cold!”

  I stood, the lower half of me still submerged. “Come on,” I coaxed her. “It’s actually rather refreshing.”

  That wasn’t a lie; yes, my balls felt like they had been sucked back into my body and my dick was probably about the size of a thumb, but aside from that, the cold salt water had a way of making you feel cleansed in a way that couldn’t really be compared with anything else.

  “But you’ve got to just go for it,” I said. “Don’t think about it. If you think about it too much, you won’t do it.” Fuck, I was starting to sound like Todd.

  She looked nervous, as if I were trying to talk her into jumping off the top of a building, not coming into the water for a swim. A greenhead buzzed near me and I went back under, the cold still somewhat of a shock to my upper body. When I resurfaced, Chloe had taken her hat off and was looking right at me.

  “Okay,” she said. “Here I come.”

  And just like that, she ran right into the water, shrieking before she’d gotten in past her knees. But she dove under, and actually swam several yards before coming up.

  She was gasping and wiping the water from her face. “Oh my God,” she said, half-laughing. “This water is so cold. You’re right, though—it does feel refreshing. I’d just really like to not encounter any sharks.”

  “I’ll protect you if we do.”

  She smiled and splashed a bunch of water at me. “You better.”

  We swam for a little while, then floated on our backs, faces upturned toward the warm sun. I barely even knew this girl, yet there was something about her that m
ade me feel differently than I had with previous women. I had no idea what it was; maybe I was even imagining it since I’d decided I wouldn’t be dating anyone this summer. Maybe it was just a trick my mind was playing on me, trying to get me to give in.

  Chapter Ten

  Chloe

  I’d decided that I wouldn’t talk to my parents about the sculpture. And even if they asked, I would be purposefully vague. This way, they would be completely floored when they went to the exhibit, and I would be right there to see the expressions on their faces.

  Mom didn’t really have any interest in talking to me about the exhibit though—she wanted to know if I had any plans on Thursday night.

  “I’m not sure,” I said hesitantly. If I said no, I didn’t, she was probably going to try to get me to go with her to a wine tasting or to some function at the yacht club, which was the last place I felt like spending any time.

  “Do you remember my friend Alison? They’re from California and they rent the O’Conner’s house for a few months every summer?”

  “Uh ... not really.” It would be impossible to remember every single person that my mother considered a friend.

  “They have a son, about your age. His name’s Riley. Nice boy. Anyway, they’re here now for a few weeks, and Alison and I were at lunch the other day and we got to talking. About you two.”

  “Us two?”

  “Yes, you and Riley. It sounds like the two of you have a lot in common! So, Alison and I were thinking it might be nice to arrange a little get-together. Just the two of you, of course—we wouldn’t be there. How does that sound?”

  “You’re setting me up on a blind date?”

  “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing! And it doesn’t have to be a blind date—here, I’ll show you a picture. Alison texted me one. He’s very handsome.” I sat there, trying not to roll my eyes, as my mother started tapping away at the screen of her phone. “Here,” she said triumphantly, turning the screen to face me. “Isn’t he handsome?”

  The picture showed a guy on a boat, in a sky blue polo shirt, his short, light brown hair blowing in the breeze. He had a smile on his face, showing off perfect, white teeth. He looked incredibly wholesome, like this was a picture out of some Christian Bible camp pamphlet or something.

  “He looks nice,” I said finally. I looked at her. “Please tell me you didn’t text his mother a picture of me.” I hated having my picture taken and did whatever I could to stay out of photos, but my mother was notorious for sneaking around and getting candid shots, which usually meant in the photos she had of me I was mid-sentence or about to take a bite of food.

  “Don’t worry, Chloe, I wouldn’t send a bad photo of you,” she said. “Anyway, Riley is free this Thursday, and Alison and I thought it would be splendid if the two of you went out to dinner together. And before you start trying to think of excuses, I’d like it if you were just open to this idea and went out this one time. If it doesn’t work out, fine, you tried, and that’s the most anyone can expect.”

  “I just don’t understand why you’re trying to set me up on a date. Did I ask you to do this? No.”

  “Well, if you must know the truth, Riley just went through a ... how did Alison put it? A rather traumatic breakup, I think was what she used.”

  “Oh, I see. So, I’m his rebound.”

  “No, that’s not it at all. The breakup was almost six months ago, so it’s not recent, relatively speaking. He’s moved on. He’s ready to get back on the dating scene. And I figured since you’re not seeing anyone, it might work out really well!”

  She seemed so earnest and good-intentioned that I could almost believe her. “But what sense would it make for you to set me up with someone who lives all the way across the country? What if things did work out between us, just for me to have to say goodbye to him when he went back to California?”

  “Well ... let’s just say you two really did hit it off ... who’s to say you couldn’t move out to California? It’s a lovely state, you know. No more harsh winters to deal with. Remember how your father and I were talking about exploring your options? Living in California might be a great way for you to do that.”

  “Are you serious, Mom?” I couldn’t quite believe what she was saying, though I should’ve known better. Of course this whole date was part of her bigger plan. “I didn’t realize how much you and Dad hated the idea of me being in art school. And what other options do you think I’ll be exploring out in California? Being someone’s housewife?”

  Mom gave me a patient look. “Now, Chloe, you’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think? No one’s saying that you and Riley are going to get married, nor is anyone suggesting that you become a housewife! Riley graduated from Stanford, though, did you know that? Just this year, in fact. Alison said he’s thinking about grad school but might take an off-year—but I’ll let him tell you all that. I’ll just text Alison back and let her know that Thursday is good for you too, all right?”

  I sighed. There was no point in arguing with my mother when she got like this. I could refuse this date, but then she’d just find someone else to try to set me up with. If I got it over with now, then maybe she’d leave me alone.

  “Fine,” I said. “Go ahead and set it up.”

  My mother grinned. “I think this is going to work out splendidly, I just have a feeling!”

  I forced a smile and reached up to brush a few loose strands of hair away from my face. “Oh, boy, not another one of your feel—”

  “What is that?”

  My mother stared at me, her mouth slightly agape. “What?” I said.

  “That!” She pointed, and I realized that the slightly loose-fitting, three-quarter sleeve had slid up when I raised my arm to brush the hair back from my face, putting my tattoo on full display. I knew that by choosing to have it there, my parents would eventually see it, but I hadn’t expected it to happen quite yet.

  “Oh ... um.” I yanked the sleeve down.

  “Please tell me that’s temporary. One of those henna things? What is it called?”

  My mother gave me a hopeful smile, which wavered and then disappeared when I didn’t say anything.

  “Chloe,” she breathed, looking at me as though I’d just informed her I liked to drown kittens in potato sacks in my spare time. “Has your father seen this? No, I know he hasn’t because he would’ve told me. Chloe, what on Earth were you thinking?” Her voice was starting to get shrill.

  “I just wanted to,” I mumbled, feeling like I was five again. I hated that I felt like this whenever my parents got upset with me, even when I knew that I hadn’t done anything wrong. And there was nothing wrong with the tattoo I got—the way she was looking at me it was as though I’d gotten something inked on my face. “It’s nice. And it’s small. I really didn’t think that you guys would mind.”

  My mother opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it and just shook her head. “I’m going to have to talk to your father about this,” she said after a minute. “And we both know he’s not going to be happy. How are you going to get a respectable job with a tattoo like that?”

  “I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

  She sighed. “Well, whatever you do, make sure you wear something to cover it up for your date with Riley.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Graham

  On Sunday, Todd and I were up at the ass crack of dawn, driving up to New Hampshire for a race. Todd was drinking distilled water and eating energy gel packets while I nursed a hot coffee and thought about eating a second donut.

  “Aren’t you supposed to eat those when you actually need the energy?” I asked.

  “I always need energy,” he said. “And by the way, I’m going to shoot myself if you come in ahead of me today. I mean, really. What did you have for dinner last night? A bacon cheeseburger? I had whole grain pasta and baked whitefish.”

  “Close,” I said. “I hung out with Chloe and her friend Tara and we got some food at Fish Fry.” />
  “Wait, you hung out with both those girls who came in for the tattoos? And you didn’t invite me along?”

  “It was kind of a last-minute thing. And I knew you were at work.”

  “Fuck man, that’s what personal days are for! I would’ve called in. I was only doing a half day, anyway. How’d it go?”

  “It was totally G-rated in every way. Nice, though. Went to the beach.”

  He groaned and shook his head. “You’re fuckin killing me. I don’t want to hear that you went to the beach with two hot chicks and it was G-rated. Let me guess—you ended the day with ice cream cones with rainbow sprinkles.”

  “Something like that.”

  “You’re pathetic. Seriously. You’re taking this whole ‘giving up dating’ thing way too far. It’s offensive, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Are you offended?”

  “I am. I’m getting stood up and you’re swearing off women. What—do you think being celibate is going to help you win races?”

 

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