by Lacey Black
Rueben makes a grab for his wallet, but I glare at him. “What?” he whispers, pulling a ten from the confines.
“He can pay. He owes me. And probably you too. Did he reimburse you at all for driving his crap all the way across the country ten years ago?” I whisper harshly.
The sober look on his face is my answer. The bastard didn’t even pay for his friend’s gas, nor probably his lodging during that time. What a cheap asshole.
Rueben still throws the ten on the table for the server and stands. He helps pull my chair out, his hand resting on my lower back as I stand beside him.
“Well, this was fun, but we really should be going,” I say, even though fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe breakfast.
“Aren’t we going to the same place? We’ll share a cab,” Danny says as he heads toward the exit.
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure you and Ellen want to enjoy the trip alone,” I insist, but he’s not having it.
“Nonsense. I’d love to catch up with you all more,” he says, taking Ellen’s hand and guiding her to the front entrance of our hotel.
“Seriously?” I ask, glancing up, as if asking my question to God himself.
Rueben snorts. “Well, it could be worse.”
I glance up at the handsome man beside me. “Really?”
“Sure. He could have stuck you with the bill,” he says with a smile before leading me outside to wait for our taxi.
Chapter Eight
Rueben
The stadium is packed by the time we arrive. Tailgaters are everywhere, wearing their maroon and white SIU Salukis fan gear and proudly screaming their excitement for today’s big game. A welcome banner hangs from a portion of brick exterior on the new Saluki Stadium, right beside the school fight song. This is my first time visiting the new stadium, which opened the season after our senior year. It’s a little surreal being back here, to the place I spent so many Saturdays for a handful of years. It’s not, however, the first time I’ve been here with Cricket. Actually, we attended most football games together the second half of school. I wasn’t a huge fan of the game, but I always came to support Danny.
The difference is today is actually the first time I’ve ever held her hand here.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m really excited to see the new stadium,” Cricket says as we approach the entrance.
“Me too. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see it in person after graduation,” I tell her, retrieving my ticket from my wallet. Cricket digs in her purse, pulling out her cell phone and bringing up her own ticket. When I purchased my ticket, I had the choice of an electronic ticket, but didn’t pick that option. I’d rather pay the small processing fee and receive a physical paper ticket in the mail, I’m probably the only human alive that feels that way, but knowing what I know about computers and hackers, I’d rather not take the chance.
Our tickets are scanned and Cricket’s bag is quickly searched. Moments later, we’re finally inside the mostly metal interior of our alma mater’s new football stadium. Of course, to everyone who lives here or attends school, it’s not new. It’s now ten years old. But to us, the students who left school two months before it opened, this is kind of a big deal for us.
“This place is pretty dope, right?”
I glance over my shoulder and find Danny still keeping up with us. I thought maybe we’d part ways, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Danny insisted we share a taxi. Now, we’re entering the stadium with them hot on our heels. “Uh, yeah, it’s a nice upgrade,” I reply, glancing up at the steel beams and the posters of past players.
“I need a pretzel with cheese. Lots of cheese,” Cricket says, pulling on my arm. “We’ll see you guys around,” she adds, hollering over her shoulder to Danny and Ellen. “God, I thought we’d never get rid of them.”
I snort a laugh. “I can’t believe you’re still hungry,” I say as we enter the line for one of the food vendors.
“I’m not, but I needed a break from their kissy kissy faces.”
“Kissy kissy faces?” I ask, unable to mask my smile.
“You know, the over-the-top googly eyes and almost awkwardly fake kissing? They can’t keep their lips off each other,” she says as the line slowly starts to move us forward.
“Isn’t that how new love is supposed to be?” I find myself asking, pulling my wallet from my back pocket.
She shrugs. “I guess. It’s just weird, right? Neither one of them said anything about the other yesterday, but now they’re all over each other and throwing around closed-mouth kisses like they’re kissing their grandma.”
We step up to the counter and I order a pretzel with cheese and two bottles of water. “Umm, I hate to break it to you, but aren’t we all over each other?”
Cricket stops and looks up at me, considering my words. Then she cocks her head slightly to the side and says, “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel awkward and fake with us. Do you think they can tell?”
Now it’s my turn to consider her words as I hand over twenty dollars, the pretzel and cheese and bottles of water almost eating up the entire bill. That kiss last night was pretty fucking amazing, and if I were watching it from the sidelines, I wouldn’t think it was someone pretending to be in a relationship. I’d see a couple who was unable to keep their hands—and mouths—off each other. “No, I don’t think they can tell. First off, they give each other these weird pecks on the lips,” I say, grabbing both bottles of water from the counter and muttering a quick thank you to the workers. As we turn to head toward our seating area, I lean in and add, “Last night, we were all tongue.”
Cricket gasps beside me, her face turning a beautiful shade of pink. She looks at me and smiles a knowing little grin. “True, we were.” As we head to the area for alumni, she glances my way and adds, “So, what we’re saying is our faking is way better than their faking, because I’m honestly not sure I believe they’re dating.”
“I would agree with that assessment. I’m not one hundred percent sure they’re in a relationship either, but I am holding out on making my final vote on that topic.”
“I can respect that,” she says as we step out onto the concrete stairs and look down at the field. “I think we’re over here,” she points just off to the left, where a large section of seating is roped off for alumni.
As we approach, we find small groups of seats still open. Our tickets don’t actually have seat numbers on them. The idea was to be able to mix and mingle with former classmates and teammates, catch up while watching the football game.
Cricket points to a few seats. “This okay?”
I nod, the noise around us pretty loud as I take in the ambiance. The team is on the field, warming up, and there’s a buzz of excitement from the crowd. As I drop into a seat, I do see a few recognizable faces that grab my attention. A name jumps out at me for a tall, skinny guy with shaggy dark hair, while the others look familiar, yet I can’t put a name to the face.
Off to the side, I see Danny. He’s down along the railing, talking to someone from the coaching staff. Ellen is there, twirling her hair and occasionally glancing down at her nails. She’s wearing a tight SIU Salukis shirt, one that may have come from the kid’s department. Sure, I notice. I’m a guy. And not dead. But I’ll take Cricket’s brand of beauty over Ellen’s in-your-face glamour any day.
Speaking of Cricket, she chose a fitted tee in maroon, but with a little more wiggle room in it. It forms nicely to her curves, but doesn’t give it all away, if you know what I mean. She’s wearing a pair of jean capris and cute white shoes. Even though we were under the gun this morning on time, she still straightened her hair and put on a little makeup. She looks stunning, making my dick twitch its approval in my pants, much like it did this morning when she stepped out of my bathroom ready to go.
We watch a few moments of pregame festivities until the man I recognized as Dylan Haskins heads our way. “Hey, Rueben Rigsby, right?” he says, extending his hand.
“Yeah, good
to see you Dylan,” I reply, placing my hand in his.
“I was hoping I’d run into you this weekend. How have you been?” he asks, taking the empty seat beside me.
“Good, yourself?”
“Can’t complain,” he says, glancing around, as if to monitor how closely the crowd is. “Listen, I have something I wanted to pitch to you. An idea the company I work for has. It might be right up your alley.”
I consider his words for a moment as I take a drink of my water. “Like a job offer?”
Dylan shrugs. “Quite possibly. You available to talk? I know we have the alumni dinner tonight,” he says, glancing over my shoulder to Cricket, “and I’m sure you have plans.”
With Cricket. That’s what he’s insinuating, and in a way, he’s right. Though we have nothing concrete, we’re supposed to be dating, so it would be assumed we’d schedule things to do together with our downtime.
I’m not sure why I’m actually considering his offer to meet, other than I’m curious and want to hear him out. Am I looking for a new job? Nope. I’m happy where I am and get to work from home. I also make damn good money, so it’s not like I’m looking for an increase in pay or more benefits. Yet, I’m curious as hell to hear what he’s been up to and how it could factor into my future. “I can meet up,” I find myself saying.
Dylan smiles. “Glad to hear it. I’ve been following the work you’ve been doing, and you’d be an asset. Here’s my card,” he says, pulling a small white rectangle from his shirt pocket and handing it to me. “My cell phone is on there. Give me a call when you have an hour or so free.”
I take the card and palm it. “I will, thanks.” Then, I stop and turn. “You’ve been following me?”
“Your work, man. Computer forensics is a small world. You’ve made a name for yourself.”
He reaches out his hand, shakes mine, says a quick greeting to Cricket, and then leaves to go back to his group of friends. “That was strange,” she muses, tearing off a piece of her pretzel and smothering it in cheese.
“It was,” I confirm, reaching over and pulling off a small piece of her food and taking a bite. “Too salty,” I mumble as I chew the dry, sodium-covered pretzel.
“It’s supposed to be, dummy,” she says, ripping off another section and covering it in cheese, coating her finger at the same time. “They’re better with cheese.” Then, as she shovels the food into her mouth, she licks and sucks the cheddar off her finger.
Lucky finger.
Clearing my throat, I tell her, “I was afraid to take any cheese. You’re kinda hogging it.”
“Am not!”
“No? You’re licking your fingers like you haven’t eaten in a week.” With the knuckle on my finger, I push my glasses up on my nose, not even caring that they’re slightly crooked.
Cricket glances down at her cheese to pretzel ratio, which is severely lopsided. “Fine, I guess to do like cheese. Everything’s better with cheese,” she states moments before she sets the pretzel down on the seat beside her and reaches for my face.
I don’t move—I’m not sure I can— as she takes both hands and gently adjusts the frames on my face, carefully making sure they’re straight. “There.”
“Thank you.” Why does my voice sound weird?
Her hands stay on the plastic, but her eyes are locked on mine. Something passes between us in that moment. Resolve, maybe? It’s like we both completely give in to whatever it is that’s holding us back. My lips tingle with anticipation. I’m going to kiss her, right here, right now, and it has nothing to do with who may be watching and everything to do with me flat-out needing to kiss her like I need air.
“These frames look amazing on you,” she whispers, her voice deeper and with a touch of something raw and inviting.
My lips would look amazing on you.
Except the way her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open ever so slightly, I realize my mistake. I didn’t think that statement in my head. I said it.
Out loud.
There’s only one way out of my blunder at this point, and that’s why I’m moving, her lips drawing closer and closer as the seconds tick by. Cricket licks her lips in anticipation, and as I take her jaw in my hand and thread my right hand into her hair, I give her ample time to say no, to tell me she doesn’t want this kiss. She responds by tilting her head upward, her eyes locked on mine as she waits for the kiss.
Maybe she’s giving me a chance to back out, to change my own mind, but that’s not happening. No way in hell am I stopping the inevitable, and this kiss is unavoidable, like the waves crashing onto the shore. It just is.
Like the one we shared the night before at the pub, I feel like I’m punched in the stomach the moment our lips meet, but unlike the kiss from last night, this one is slower, tender, as if we’re both savoring the feel of the other’s lips against our own. She opens her mouth instantly, allowing my tongue to sweep inside and taste her. My left hand cradles her jaw protectively, while the fingers on my right hand tangle in those long, dark locks. The silkiness threads through them and my body responds in kind like an aphrodisiac. Who knew hair would be an undiscovered kink?
The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough, and I especially hate the way it ends. “Hey, you two. Enough of that in public. They’ll call security on you.”
Danny.
The reason we’re in this pretend romance to begin with.
I slowly pull my lips from hers. There’s a heartbeat’s moment where I almost say ‘fuck it’ and kiss her again. Screw Danny. Screw the public. Screw the indecent exposure charge I’d be facing when I take the kiss a step or two further.
To be up front, I’m not sure how I feel about Danny in this moment either. I see exactly why she faked a relationship with the first guy to walk by. No, I wasn’t exactly walking by, but you get my point. Even if he means absolutely nothing to her anymore, she didn’t want to be made to feel unwanted.
Undesirable.
Fuck. That.
Cricket Hill is the most desirable woman I’ve ever known, and if we didn’t live half a country apart, I’d make that fact well-known to her. Actually, fuck that. As her friend, it’s now my solemn duty to show her just how wanted and desired she is. Even if it hurts to walk away from her at the end of our short time together, I’m going to give her that.
Prove to her that she’s everything a man—a real man—could ever want, and more.
Cricket tenses under my hand, her eyes wide with disbelief. She looks to the left and finds her ex standing there. I can almost picture the smirk on his smug face, but I don’t look over to confirm. My eyes are glued to the most gorgeous set of green ones I’ve ever seen. They’re a little hazy and she blinks rapidly, as if to clear the desire and push it out of her mind. It doesn’t work, though. I can still see it there, underlying and brewing a silent storm.
“Get a room, will ya?” Ellen says, dropping into the seat beside me.
Apparently, they’re staying to watch the game with us.
Awesome.
A big part of my brain says to yes, get a room, but it’s the other part that reminds me this isn’t real. It’s all fake, part of a scheme. A ploy to show Danny she’s not still single and stuck in whatever rut he insinuated. Never mind the fact that she’s successful and driven in her work. She’s doing something amazing that she enjoys—or enjoys to an extent—and has really made a name for herself in San Francisco. She has nothing to be insecure about. She’s amazing.
Just like that kiss.
And I want to do it again.
Chapter Nine
Cricket
My lips still tingle, even as halftime draws to a close. I’ve always enjoyed watching the marching band perform, yet I can’t seem to concentrate on the action on the field. Instead, I keep reliving the action in the stands right before the start of the game, and instead of reminding myself that it shouldn’t have happened, I wish it would repeat.
Now.
“So, Cricket, what made you move to co-host
. I thought you were destined to be behind the camera forever,” Danny says. I’m on the end of our foursome, while Ellen and then Danny sit to Rueben’s right. When I glance over, I see Danny’s arm casually thrown over the back of Ellen’s seat, but other than that, they haven’t touched the entire first half of the game. She has, however, bumped Rueben’s leg or leaned hers against his at least half a dozen times. So much that he has actually started to angle toward me the further this game proceeds.
I tense in my seat and don’t answer right away, which means Danny is left to fill the silence with his assumptions and preposterous insinuations.
“I mean, you’re not bad and all, but I’m surprised they’ve kept you on camera as long as they have. They must have been super desperate,” he adds, making Ellen giggle under her breath.
Just the slightest sound from her makes me want to punch puppies. Not that I would actually do that, mind you. I’m just saying… “Actually, yes, we were desperate, Danny. Our co-host left without warning, which I’m sure you already knew, considering she was sharing a screen with you by six a.m. the next morning and a bed with you by six p.m. that night.”
Danny laughs. Actually laughs. “Still care who’s sharing my bed, Cricket?”
“Not in the least, Daniel. The only reason I even heard was because our entertainment reporter said pictures appeared on social media,” I reply, glancing over at the man I used to love.
“What can I say? The camera loves me,” he replies, giving me a wink and that cocky smirk.
Rueben takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, gently nibbling on the soft flesh. A warm shiver glides through my body, and I glance his way. His eyes are locked on the field, watching as the band finishes up their halftime routine to a stadium full of fans and alumni. But to me, it’s as if we’re the only two people here. His eyes might be trained forward, but I feel all of his attention directly on me.
As the third quarter begins, and Ellen’s arm moves from the armrest to resting on Rueben’s thigh, he quickly stands up and stretches his back. “I’m going to get something to drink. Anyone want anything?” he offers politely.