Dolce (Love at Center Court #2)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “Love you too.”

  By the time I ended the call, I was at the bottom of the hill on College Avenue, heading toward Mean Beans. Out of nowhere, I wanted a coffee—except I wasn’t a coffee drinker.

  The bells chimed over the door as I stepped into the lavender-hued java mecca.

  “Dude!” Ashton yelled from the corner.

  Christ, I didn’t need to deal with him again.

  “Look at us! A bunch of real coffee drinkers,” he joked.

  “And pussies,” I added. “My dad would yank my man card so fast if he knew I was hanging out in gourmet coffee places. The golden arches is for real men.”

  “I’ll make sure to let him know you drink lattes now the next time he’s in town.”

  I punched Ashton in the shoulder, ignoring his fake wince as I scanned the place and locked in on who I was looking for. Cate sat hunched over a textbook with her long, curly hair hanging around her face, a scone to her left and a steaming cup of something on her right.

  Ashton followed my gaze and scowled. “Dude, now’s not the time to get involved.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ash. You’re in a coffee shop too, ogling some blonde.”

  “I’m not in line to go pro, and I certainly didn’t make a bet with Sonny.” He poked his finger into my chest and stared me down hard. “And I’m definitely just looking to get laid. You have the eyes of someone wanting to get involved.”

  “How the hell would you know?” I muttered while walking to the counter.

  Ava brightened when she saw me. As she opened her mouth to greet me, I brought my fingers up to my lips, motioning for her to be quiet.

  “Hey, Blane,” she whispered, her brows pinched in a V of confusion.

  “Hi, Ava,” I said quietly.

  “My roommate said to give you this.”

  She pulled out a heart-shaped sticky note with Vicki and a number written in red lipstick, but I gave her an apologetic smile and waved it away.

  “Um, thanks, but it’s not a good time. I don’t want her to be disappointed.” I pushed back my hood, thinking, I must be losing my mind. Keeping my voice low, I said, “I was wondering what the girl in the corner is drinking, and I’d like you to make another.”

  “Who? The plain girl from the other day? Catie with a C?” Returning to her regular voice, Ava said, “She’s wearing earbuds.”

  “Oh. Do you know what she’s drinking?”

  “Yeah, a full-fat latte. Can you believe that? Who drinks that? No one I know.”

  “I didn’t ask that. How ’bout you make me another?” I shoved a few bucks in the tip jar and slapped a ten on the counter.

  “What about you, Blane? Want something?”

  “You know what? I’ll have a hot cocoa. Full-fat and whipped.”

  I watched Ava turn toward her expensive coffee machine and frown at my lack of appreciation of her charms. Steam filled her face, and yeah, she was hot—but a bitch. That used to do it for me, but not anymore.

  With the latte and cocoa in my hands, I made my way toward the corner. I set the drinks down on the table next to Cate before tapping her on the shoulder.

  “Holy shit!” She jumped in her seat, nearly toppling the pile of work in front of her. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  God, I love her foul mouth.

  She pulled out her earbuds, letting them dangle above her cleavage. My eyes automatically shifted down, appreciating the view, and I quickly raised them to her face. When she cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, I felt a smile tug at my lips but schooled it.

  “I brought you a refill.” I grabbed the paper cups and swung them over to her table.

  “Really? Let me get you some money.” She reached around her back and snatched her bag.

  “It’s on me.”

  “Why?” She turned her dark eyes on me, her brow furrowing. Indignation practically seeped from her pores.

  “Just being nice, Cate. That’s it. No ulterior motive.”

  She raised an eyebrow again.

  “May I sit?”

  “Go right ahead.”

  “So, what’re you doing?” I asked, taking a sip of my dessert in a cup. God, that shit was sweet.

  “I’m researching a paper for my women’s studies class.”

  “Really?” I had to remind myself to swallow. Otherwise I would have spit out my drink.

  “It’s my major.”

  “And you’re putting up with Sonny? All this time, I thought you were finding your own way, but a women’s libber taking his shit? No way.”

  “Shh,” she hissed. “I need that internship. I told you. Unlike some people who flaunt their muscles and have tuition, stipends, and steak dinners thrown at them, I need the work/study program.”

  “Really? You’re going to go there?” I raised an eyebrow back at her.

  “No, sorry. I know you’re talented.”

  “Believe me, I get it, needing money. I come from nothing. My dad sends me some ’cause he knows I’ll repay him. But yes, I get a lot of fringe benefits.”

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure.”

  I leaned back in my chair, studying her. Cate smelled good, like citrus and home. I was from Florida—kill me, but oranges, lemons, and mangos smelled like home.

  “So, tell me, is this what the big, bad jock does when he’s sworn off sex?” Leaning over, she sniffed my drink. “Drinks hot chocolate and stalks chubby girls?”

  “What?” I leaned across the table. “What do you mean?”

  “Sorry to insult your manliness, but that is hot chocolate? With whipped cream.” She swiped her finger across my lip, smoothing away a whipped-cream mustache.

  “No, I meant that . . . the other comment. I can’t even say it.”

  “What? About chubby girls?”

  “Would you stop?”

  “I’m sitting here eating a scone. How many girls do you date who eat, let alone enjoy a scone in your company? I’m betting zero.”

  “Well, you’re not every girl.”

  “Uh, yeah. I’m the one you befriend when you can’t have any others.”

  I pinched off a piece of her scone and held it to her lips. “I guess I just have to shut you up with pastries.”

  She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the pastry. The tip of her tongue grazed my finger and set my cock aflame. This was something new—she did have a point when she said that. Getting turned on by feeding smart and sassy women baked goods was a very new thing, and I liked it.

  She swallowed and took a sip of her latte before asking, “So, you ready?”

  “For what?”

  “The season.”

  “You telling me you actually care?”

  “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a closet fan of all those big athletic men in tanks sweating all over one another. Between that and Sonny, I’ll be stripped of my women’s rights status.”

  “No way.” I tilted toward her, sniffing more of her lusciousness, and I hardened even more. She was a fan, and she smelled edible.

  “Yep. I like the games. I try to make it to a few each season.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I think I’m ready. A lot of pressure on this season, but I’m feeling good.”

  “Oh shit,” Cate said, looking at her watch. “I’m supposed to go to a movie tonight, but I have to go drop all of this in my room first.” She stood up and gathered the various papers and printouts, stacking them quickly.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you.”

  I stood and tossed my half-full cup in the garbage. Cate snatched her last bite of scone and popped it into her mouth. All packed up and zipped in her leather jacket, she said, “I can get there myself.”

  “What would be the fun in that? Come on.”

  I cocked my head toward the door and gave Ashton the peace sign. He winked at me and went right back to staring at Ava’s tits.

  “Where do you live?” I asked.

  “Southern dorms. Right across there.�
�� She motioned across College Avenue.

  “Sweet. Those are hard to get?” I slowed my pace to match her shorter legs.

  “I wanted a single, so it wasn’t as hard. I guess no one really wants to live alone in college.”

  “I’d die for a little peace and quiet from time to time. I live with Ashton, the big guy back in the coffee shop, and Alex White lives down the hall with a guy from the football team.”

  The wind whipped Cate’s hair across her face, and a few dark curls stuck to her lip gloss. I reached over and pulled the strands free, our eyes meeting for the briefest of seconds. If I weren’t a hot-blooded man, I would have sworn I heard some romantic melody playing in the background.

  The spark between this girl and me was intense. Whoever said opposites attract knew what the fuck they were talking about. Cate with her brains and curvy body was doing it for me in a big way. Me, a guy who’d enjoyed so many mindless girls, I’d lost count.

  “Right over here.” Cate motioned toward a red brick building marked SOUTHERN A. “This is me.”

  We stood at the threshold of her dorm. I wanted to go upstairs, but she looked like she wanted me to get the hell away.

  “What movie are you seeing later?” I asked, desperate for an excuse for the afternoon to continue.

  She smiled and stifled a giggle. “It’s a porno.”

  “What? You’re kidding.”

  “No, really. I’m taking An In-Depth Look at Pornography and Its Ill Effects on Women of Every Age, and we’re required to go to a porn fest tonight. You know, so we can discuss in detail how degrading it is to women.”

  I grasped her shoulder, shaking her in fun. “Stop! You’re playing me.”

  “I’m not. Seriously.”

  “I need to go to this.”

  Cate shifted back, out of my grip. My hand dropped by my side, but itched to get back to her.

  “You can’t! My prof would have a field day, and I’m already under scrutiny. It’s a senior-level lecture.”

  “Don’t worry. Just tell me where it is, and I’ll sneak in.”

  She shook her head, her dark curls bouncing like crazy around her face. “I can’t. Seriously.”

  “No, seriously, you have to. This is going to be a blast. And I can buy you a beer after.”

  “I don’t do beer.”

  “Whatever you want, just tell me where and when.”

  “It’s in Cavern Hall at six o’clock,” she whispered. “Pretend you don’t know me.” She turned and opened the door to Southern A. “Thanks for the coffee,” she called over her shoulder as the door was shutting behind her.

  I walked backward and waved good-bye like a fool in love. When Cate was out of sight, I quickly adjusted myself in my pants and jogged back to the main drag and over to my apartment.

  Like an idiot, I logged onto Twitter on my way back to the dorm.

  @HaftonFan101:

  Move along girls, @BallerSteele still sworn off s$x on the air with @SonnyB_KnocknBoots. #findanewman #Steeleisoffmarket #maybenot?

  @HaftonFan101:

  Just heard @BallerSteele was spotted taking a number in the coffee shop. #justsayin #manwhore

  @HaftonAva:

  @HaftonFan101 That was me, slipping @BallerSteele my roomie’s number! We are wearing him down!

  @CollegeBBallFan:

  Can we concentrate on ball? This is our last season with @BallerSteele at #Haftonmensball

  @HaftonSweetiePie:

  @HaftonFan101 @HaftonAva Hey, I thought @BallerSteele was mine? No fair

  This was a huge mistake. Twitter was worse than high school. What is wrong with these people?

  Oh, fuck it!

  I shoved the phone back in my pocket. I had a porn fest to go to.

  Catie

  I slammed into my room and collapsed on my bed, squeezing my eyes shut as I breathed hard. Stanwick was going to kill me, after embarrassing me first. It might even turn into death by embarrassment.

  My stupid, stupid girl parts and hormones got in the way for the first time ever. What in the hell was I thinking, telling Blane the place and time for tonight?

  Blane Steele, man-whore—albeit celibate man-whore—notorious womanizer, and the object of at least half of my female classmates’ fantasies. The same Blane that Stanwick referred to in her class last week. She would demolish him, and then me. All because I had a crush.

  “Arrrgh,” I screamed into my pillow.

  Maybe he would be late, and Stanwick would have locked the doors by the time he tried to slip in. I silently prayed to every deity and pagan idol I knew of for that.

  Throwing my legs over the side of my bed, I scrolled through the unread messages on my phone.

  SONNY: I just got a message you won’t be in this afternoon?

  Ugh, shit.

  CATIE: Yes, I sent you an e-mail last week. I have a class project. If you want, I can get an excuse.

  SONNY: Don’t bother. Come early tomorrow. I need the script to be organized for the fest.

  CATIE: I’ll be there as soon as class lets out.

  The guy was such an asshole.

  SONNY: Early.

  I didn’t bother with a reply. Sonny would insist on his way, and I would end up relenting. I switched to my e-mails and deleted all the spam, only to be left with one actual message regarding paid internship possibilities for the summer.

  Finally, a bright spot in my crappy day. If I got the internship over the summer, I could also find a job waitressing and stay in Ohio. Then I wouldn’t have to go home to my sisters and their wrath, or my mother and her constant harping on me to act like a real woman. I’d miss my dad, but that was the breaks. He would understand . . . they didn’t call him Big Anthony for nothing.

  After huffing a little while longer, I dragged myself to the bathroom and washed my face, and then changed clothes before heading out the door to Cavern Hall. As soon as I stepped outside, it began to pour down rain; not a light drizzle but huge raindrops that fell from the sky and soaked my sweatshirt, causing my hair to curl more than usual. My little backpack umbrella did little to shield me from the downpour, and I probably looked like a drowned rat when I arrived at the movie.

  I pushed my dripping hair from my face as I entered the building, shaking the rain from it and then finger combing the curls into some type of style. Stopping for a moment, I set aside my wet umbrella with the others littering the floor outside the room, and brushed the droplets off my sweatshirt before I walked inside. The room was semi-dark, and I paused before deciding to head to a seat at the far left corner against the wall.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight because I’d never even seen a full-length porno. Was there a plot? Was there even a point? Or full frontal? Yes, I’d seen the little snippets shown in class, but I had a feeling what I was about to view was nothing like that.

  “Good evening, students,” Stanwick said as she made her way down the aisle. “Welcome to movie night, or the night you all wake up to the world around you, as I like to call it. Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see why I have made this course my life’s work. Women are not animals, or to be used purely for sexual entertainment. Women are people.”

  She made her way to the front of the room and stood in front of the lectern. “If you think you will find this evening humorous, or think of this subject with anything other than with the seriousness it warrants, please leave. I will excuse you. I’m giving you two minutes before I lock the door and we begin our journey.”

  Only Cora Stanwick could stand at the front of a classroom for ninety seconds and the room remain absolutely still. She checked her watch and glanced at the audience as the back door creaked open and someone made their way toward the front.

  I had been in such deep thought as to whether there would be BDSM or sodomy in the films, I’d forgotten who the intruder might be. When I looked up, I saw a tall figure dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and tight jeans.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sorry I’m late,” Bl
ane said in a hushed tone and took a seat on the other side of the auditorium.

  Stanwick glared at him. “Who are you?”

  “I’m here for the school paper, covering how seriously committed you are to teaching future women’s studies majors, Professor.”

  “They didn’t tell me they were sending someone over, but it’s fine. Please have a seat and stay quiet. This is an important part of the learning process.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And don’t call me ma’am.”

  With that, she walked over to the door and locked it before hitting the light switch, enveloping us in total darkness. Then the first movie rolled.

  At first, I had to stifle a giggle.

  It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and there was a cop patrolling for speeders on a long stretch of highway. A woman was out for a drive after church, oddly enough wearing a cat suit and heels. Her makeup looked more like she was a stripper than a devout worshipper. She barreled down the dusty road in a sporty cherry-red convertible, the top down and the wind blowing her already artfully mussed hair. Out of nowhere, blue and red lights came on, swirling around the screen with a siren blaring, and the brunette bombshell looked surprised she was being pulled over.

  A well-built cop practically bursting out of his tight uniform swaggered over to her car, and she leaned out the window, her lips all pouty.

  “License and registration, please.”

  “What did I do, sir?”

  After a few moments of flirtatious banter, ripe with sexual innuendo, the cop ended up following the woman back to her apartment. As soon as they made it through the door, he slammed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers, kissing her. The kiss was deep and hungry as he practically devoured her, and the camera moved in tighter to pick up every stroke of his tongue. She shoved her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as he pushed his pelvis against hers, grinding his erection into her, which elicited a wild moan from her lips.

  Suddenly, I didn’t feel like giggling anymore. The lust was palpable. Passion emanated from them as if they weren’t acting. It was a feeling I wasn’t familiar with, even though I wasn’t a virgin. I’d lost it to kind and sensitive Robby Barnes in high school. He’d lasted thirty seconds, which was for the best because I was barely lubricated down there. It was nothing like the lusty scene in front of me, and I began to squirm in my seat.