Vulnerable, honest, stripped down beyond the bubbly, competitive, fun girl is this other version of Sydney few get to see. She’s terrified of letting people down, afraid of failure and being hurt, but she’s also one of the bravest people I know and loyal as hell. When she sets her mind to something, there’s no stopping her. And she would fight to the death for anyone she cares about.
“You already are good for me.”
The next morning, Datson wakes up at an ungodly hour wanting to take the boat out one last time before he heads back to the farm.
I don’t wake Sydney. We were up most of the night talking. Well, mostly talking.
The lake is still quiet and my buddy is too. I wish I knew what to say to make him feel better about talking with his family. I can’t do it for him any more than he can help me decide, so I do what I can which is drive his ass all around the lake.
We have lunch and then head back so he can get on the road. Sydney is sitting on the patio with a pair of bright green sunglasses that match the smallest bikini I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some small ones.
My steps falter and I’m almost certain I trip over my tongue like a cartoon character.
“Ah, Syd, you missed a great morning out on the water,” Datson says, apparently impervious to the itsy bitsy teeny weenie, hot-green bikini attached to the hottest woman alive.
“Great and morning don’t belong in the same sentence,” she quips back.
He takes a seat on a chair next to her. I’m still trying to work my feet. She short-circuited whatever part of my brain is responsible for that.
“Look at you two,” Datson says, and I think he must have figured out that something’s different between us. Possibly because I’m staring like a goddamn idiot. “You’ve got fucking matching suits. Aren’t you two the cutest BFFs ever.”
I glance down at my bright green shorts and then back to Sydney. Sure enough.
“These are new. How’d you know?” I ask her.
“I didn’t. I bought this yesterday.”
“Adorbs.” Datson sits forward and claps his hands. “Well, as much as I’d love to third wheel it for another few days, maybe get a glimpse of the hot kisses I keep hearing about but not witnessing, I should get going.”
“Thanks for coming. It was good to see you. If you can get away again, you know where to find us. I think Benny and a couple of the younger guys are coming up for the Fourth.”
“I appreciate it.” He stands and Sydney does too to hug him. “Take care of him.”
“Always,” she reassures him. When she steps back, she lets her hands fall to his arms at the elbow and squeezes. “Careful driving back.”
By the time I walk Datson out to his truck and come back, Sydney’s poured us each a drink and reheated leftovers.
“I was hungry. Thought you might be, too.”
“Datson and I got lunch.” Dropping on the chair, I eat half of the food anyway before speaking again. “What do you want to do tonight?”
“I assumed you had some elaborate plan. If not, I’m good with just hanging at the house.”
“Oh, I have a plan. I just wanted to make it seem like you had a choice. We can chill here for a bit, but we leave for official date one at seven.”
“Sydney, you look amazing.”
I can see the faint blush of her cheeks even in the dim lighting of the restaurant. “Thank you. This place is incredible. Much better than Jonah’s garage, though, I had fun last night. Best date material. It’s going to be hard to beat it.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
“So, what does the official date one entail?”
“You’re looking at it.”
She waits for more. She knows me well.
“There’s a club upstairs. I doubt there’s much action on a Sunday night, but it’s supposed to have the best view of the entire lake.”
“And?”
My smile is big and immediate. “Boat ride home under the stars.”
“You are pretty good at this planning dates thing for a guy who hasn’t done it before.”
We eat, conversation flows easily, as it always does with us. It doesn’t feel like much of a date at all, mostly, but the unfamiliar excitement in my gut and tingling through my fingertips as I press a hand to her lower back and lead her upstairs is the stuff of first dates that I didn’t realize I was missing out on. Though to be fair, I’m not sure I’d feel this way with anyone but Sydney.
It isn’t like there weren’t good times with Amelia, but Sydney’s right. I let her, and everyone else I dated, run the show. I treated dates almost like they were a reward for putting up with my insane schedule and the hundreds of nights they came over and just chilled because I couldn’t go out because of a practice or game the next day.
That’s my life. In between a fun night out once a week or once every few weeks when things are really busy, is a lot of nights of me going to bed early so I can be at my best. Letting my girlfriends pick the dates felt like the least I could do. Now I have to wonder if I should have been more excited to plan things like I am now.
Seeing Sydney’s face when we get to the balcony on the top floor of this club tells me everything I need to know. One, planning dates for her is fun. Two, I don’t want to go back to relationships where I’m a passive participant. And three, fuck all my good intentions and reasons for holding out.
16
Sydney
Tanner grabs me a drink from the bar and we sit on a low sofa on the balcony. It’s a clear night and the moon and stars create a light show on the lake. I lean into him to steal some of his warmth and he pulls me closer.
“It’s amazing up here.” The wind blows my hair around my face and into Tanner’s.
“I’m not sure how you can even see it.” He uses both hands to brush my hair out of my face.
Goose bumps dot my arms as he continues to touch me and look at me like I’m the only other person out here. Something changed over dinner. One minute we were Tanner and Sydney, best friends who want more, and the next we were two people on a first date with insane chemistry ready to rip each other’s clothes off. I can see it on his face. No matter how hard he’s trying to hide it or stick to his five-date plan. He’s breaking.
“Cold?” He rubs my arms from shoulder to wrist.
“I’m okay.”
“Liar. Your nipples are saluting me.” His gaze falls to my chest, as does mine.
I press against him and he wraps me up so that his chin rests on top of my head. “I really dig your boobs. Especially when they’re rubbing against me.”
A burst of laughter escapes and I lift my head forcing him to create enough space so I can look him in the eye. “Really? They’re so small.” I push them out and his blue eyes watch with rapt interest.
“They’re perfect… and now I’m hard.” With a groan, he stands and takes my hand. “Dance with me.”
That seems like the worst way to get rid of a boner, but what do I know? The dance floor is practically empty. It isn’t that late – definitely not clubbing hour, and it is Sunday night. Most people are probably home resting up for the week or recovering from the weekend.
The few other people out here care about us as much as we do them, though. We’re all in our own little bubbles. Tanner’s a good dancer. He doesn’t do it much back at Valley, but on a few drunken occasions, I’ve been able to pull him onto a frat party dance floor.
Moving to the beat, he keeps one hand on my hip, holding on to the spandex fabric of my dress like he’s keeping me from moving farther away. As if I’d try.
I lean into the touch wanting more. So much more. He gives it to me, spreading his long fingers out so they splay out over my rib cage. The heat of him and his familiar scent vibrate through me with the music.
We’re in sync without trying. Each time I move closer, so does he, until we’re chest to chest. I rest my arms on his shoulders, and he now has both hands on either side of my waist. We’re junior high dancing. The kind
where our hands are in appropriate places, but the bad intentions fill the space between us. Hormones and indecisions are so thick it’s hard to breathe.
Tilting my head up, I bring our lips close. His gaze darts to my mouth and his eyes darken. This is it. He’s going to kiss me again. It has to be him. I’ve made the move too many times.
“Come on, there’s some place else I want to dance with you.” He takes off, pulling me behind him without waiting for a response.
I fight off the sting of disappointment that he’s able to hold back when I feel like I’ll die from unrequited lust. I need him in a way that is about so much more than sex.
The club is set up so that the dance floor and bar are inside, and the seating area, where we were sitting earlier, is outside on the balcony so it’s quieter and easier to talk. I think that’s where he’s leading me, but instead he stalks out of the club, down through the restaurant, and back outside the way we came in a couple of hours ago.
I’m curious, but keep my questions to myself as he holds on tight to my hand while speed walking to the boat. Helping me on board, he says, “I’ll apologize later for the abrupt ending to our first date, but I needed to do this without an audience.”
His mouth slams onto mine catching me by surprise, but breaking the small amount of control I was holding up. I press back, attacking his mouth in a desperate way, trying to convey just how much I want this. I’ll let him lead because I know it’s important to him, but he’ll have no doubt how much I want him.
His grip on my body is possessive and demanding. Those big hands roam over my waist and back, and thread through my hair. The thing about Tanner’s insistence to do everything the right way this time (besides being incredibly sexually frustrating) is that in trying to give me exactly what I want, he’s doing the opposite. I want to get naked, dammit.
People change. Their needs and wants evolve with time and experiences. Two years ago, I was a girl who was terrified of getting her heart broken again, but I’m not that girl anymore. I’ve realized in that time that I’ve broken my own heart more times than anyone else. I’ve let people walk all over me, I’ve been afraid to ask for what I want, and I’ve dated people who were all wrong for me because I couldn’t risk wanting my best friend and having him reject me a second time.
“Fuck, kissing you isn’t enough.” He rests his forehead against mine. Our chests lift with each ragged breath. “I was afraid I was two seconds away from mouth fucking you on the middle of the dance floor.”
“That would have livened up that place, for sure.”
“Yeah, sorry it was a little quiet tonight. We’ll come back another time when it’s busier.”
“Not necessary. I would have blocked them all out anyway. You have that effect on me, you know? I forget other people are around.”
“Same.” He grins.
I sit across from him with my feet up on the side of his seat as he drives back to the house. He keeps one hand resting on my ankle. The fifteen-minute ride felt short on the way here, but the anticipation building as Tanner guides us home in the dark makes every minute feel longer than the last.
I’m starting to get the hang of this whole boat thing, so I help him tie up at the dock. As soon as we’re done, Tanner lifts me into his arms by sweeping my feet out from under me and carrying me against his chest back onto the boat. “I promised you dancing and stars,” he says, stopping and looking up.
It really is a beautiful night. He sets me down and I wrap my arms around his neck. There’s no music and I’m definitely not looking at the stars, but as our bodies come together and sway in the dark, it’s perfect. A moment in time that I know I’ll never forget.
“It was a good date.” I rest my head on his shoulder. His cologne has all but worn off, just the faintest hint of it lingers.
Despite all my efforts to throw myself at him to somehow make up for holding back years ago and show him how ready I am, he’s managed to give me something I didn’t even know I wanted. He’s made me feel special. Extremely frustrated? Yes. But also extremely special.
“Thank you for this. Seriously, tonight has been so much more than I expected.”
“What, like you expected it to suck?” he asks with a laugh.
“No, I knew that we would have fun, we always do, but I feel closer to you in a different way. It feels real. I’m probably not explaining it very well.”
“Nah, I get it. I wish I could say that was all part of my master plan, but I just wanted to give you a real first date. I feel it too, though.”
“So, two dates down. What’s next?”
“One date down. Nice try.”
“How about a friendly wager?”
He smirks. “No, way, babe. You’re dating me. Get used to disappointment.” He stops. “Wait, that came out wrong.”
“Hear me out. If I can guess date number two then we make the official date count two. Last night was amazing, cheese puffs and all. It should count as a date.”
He smiles, showing his perfectly straight teeth and full lips. He rarely smiles with teeth and I love it when he does. “You’ll never guess date number two. Date one was traditional first date material, but date two…” He shakes his head and makes a face like the idea of me guessing what goes on in his brain is absolutely ludicrous.
“Then you have nothing to worry about.”
“All right, fine. You know what? I’m planning on taking you on a lot more than five dates in the future so any which way you count it, we’ve only scratched the surface. Guess away.”
“Really?” I shouldn’t be this excited, but the idea of winning something combined with getting naked one day sooner has me all sorts of giddy.
“Three guesses. No hints.”
We’re still standing in the middle of the boat swaying gently under the moonlight. It’s quiet except for the occasional boat going by.
I’m almost positive I know what the next date is. He thinks he’s hard to read, but he isn’t. Not to me.
Date one was traditional and romantic. Dinner, dancing, the boat ride. Whatever he has planned next will be lighter and more us. Our best times together are silly, fun, and playful, and I guarantee that worked its way into his dates, even if only subconsciously.
“Mini golf?”
“Nope,” he says a little too proudly.
“Jet skis or something water related.”
He shakes his head, a super smug smile pulling his lips so high I can now see his gums in addition to those pearly whites. “Wrong again.”
Crap. I was so certain it was one of those. I really don’t think I’m wrong about it being something athletic and fun, though. I’m at a slight disadvantage not knowing everything the lake has to offer, but I think back to everything he’s told me and the little bit I saw when I went out on my own.
Or maybe all five dates are like date one. Maybe he assumed we’d do playful and fun all on our own and kept the theme of the dates super romantic. I really want to guess right for reasons that really have nothing to do with the date count. Stupid competitive nature. Okay, think, Sydney.
“A tiny hint?” I plead.
“Oh no, no way.”
I growl deep in my throat which just makes him laugh.
“Oooh, I’ve got it. Bowling!” I saw an adorable bowling place in the strip mall. Bright neon lights. It looked super fun and Tanner and I actually went bowling once with the guys. It was a great night that ended with me sleeping over and us talking half the night. We learned so much about each other and it was when I finally felt like we’d worked past whatever could have been and become real friends.
I’m so sure of my choice and excited too, but Tanner shakes his head. “Damn, that would have been a good idea. Remember that time we went years ago with Nathan and Chloe? I think even Joel and Katrina came. That was a good night, but that’s not what we’re doing for date three.” His big smile falls. “Shit, having you guess just makes me realize how many dates I want to take you on. We’re gonna do it al
l, babe. Just you wait.”
17
Sydney
I’m doing some yoga and light stretches on the deck. It’s so peaceful out here during the day. I’m starting to think I could get used to this whole lake life thing. The weekends are crazy. The roughly twenty to thirty-five age demographic drives down with their friends, and the lake, as well as the bars, are packed. During the week there are still people out, but it’s a lot more families than singles and the feel is different, less chaotic and more chill.
When I finish up, I roll the mat and head inside.
“Tanner?” I call to the empty living area. He went to grab some more groceries, but I see the empty paper bags on the counter, but no Tanner.
“Bedroom.”
I follow his voice and walk in on him pulling his T-shirt over his head. The movement ruffles his hair. He balls up the white material and tosses it in the hamper.
“How’s the shoulder?” he asks.
“It’s feeling better. I’m going to see the physical therapist again tomorrow. I miss volleyball.”
He walks toward me. The muscles in his chest and stomach flex with each step. “You’ll be back and better than ever soon. I’m going to hop in the shower and then if you’re game, take you on date number two.”
“A day date?” I smile wide, already excited for whatever he has planned. “I’m game. Do I get a hint yet?”
“Nope.” He takes out his phone and tosses it on the bed.
“At least tell me what I should wear.”
“That feels like cheating.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Dress? Shorts? Bikini? Heels? Flip-flops? Tennis shoes?”
There’s a faraway look on his face as I talk. “Tanner?” I wave a hand in front of his face.
“Sorry.” He snaps out of it. “I was picturing you in all those things. I really want to say bikini and heels…” He looks up toward the ceiling and smiles. “The bright orange one and your hot pink heels… yeah.” He nods.
The Pass (Smart Jocks Book 5) Page 11