Four Play: A Collection of Novellas (4 page)

Chapter 7

Pornographic thoughts of Nolan eased after a few days, and I was finally able to buckle down and concentrate on schoolwork. But I still had one final left the next week, and my date with Nolan was scheduled for that night.

If I would’ve told myself last month that within three weeks I’d fail a test, strike out at bat, and find myself shopping for the perfect dress, I would’ve called myself insane.

And yet there I was, standing in the middle of a mall, squeezing my mini softball keychain, and eyeing up which store looked like it was for someone my age.

With my arms folded over my chest and one hip jutting out, I pulled at the strand of gum from my mouth while standing in the center of the food court.

After looking at all of the windows that surrounded me—toys, gadgets, old ladies’ clothes, menswear, and framed artwork—I finally saw a mannequin wearing a skirt and T-shirt.

I bent down to tie my shoelace and found the courage to charge into the store.

“May I help you, sir?”

I looked around and saw no one in the store except me. I rolled my eyes and faced the attendant. With a grim smile, I nodded.

“I’m so sorry! But the hat and…jeans.” Her face flushed to match her natural red hair. “I’m sorry. What can I do for you today, miss?”

“I need a dress,” I said curtly.

“For what kind of occasion?” she asked.

I looked at her nametag. “Well, Jenny, I have a date. But I haven’t been shopping for about three years. So I’m going to need a bit of help.”

Her nervousness faded into a genuine smile. “Well then, come with me. I’ll show you what we have over here—”

“Jack?” an airy voice said from behind me.

I turned quickly to see Becky and Jessy standing in the entrance of the shop. Becky looked at me, then to the attendant, then back again, while Jessy stood grimacing.

“Hey!” I chirped. My tone made the pinches in their brows deepen.

I was completely busted.

Jessy shook her head. “Did you just say you had…
a date
?”

Becky scratched her head. “And you’re here for…
a
dress
?”

My shoulders drooped as my head bobbed backward. I stared at the lights in the ceiling rafters for several seconds before responding.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“With who? There’s still two games left in the season, and the Division Championships!” Jessy shouted a whisper.

“He’s just a…friend,” I said.

Becky’s jaw flung open. “Oh. My. God! It’s totally a
real
date! Not just some random dick you’re trolling!”

“Whatever. It’s nobody. I mean, he’s no one. I just need something to take a bit of edge off my game—”

Jessy gasped. “This is the reason you struck out last week, isn’t it? Wait until the team finds out—”

“No! The team will not find out about this,” I scolded. “Please, you guys. Just give me a couple of weeks to sort this all out. No one can find out about him. I need you to keep this a secret.”

Simultaneously, they crossed their arms over their chests. After glancing at each other and considering their options, Jessy finally looked up.

“Fine. I won’t tell the team. But you gotta promise me you won’t give the girls shit anymore about dating
or
fucking during the season.”

I nodded just as Becky was putting in her two cents.

“And I won’t tell either, on one condition.” Becky’s eyebrows rose.

I nudged my chin for her to continue.

“That you let me help you with your hair and makeup.”

I sighed in relief.

“Deal.”

***

It was six o’clock, and Nolan would be over to pick me up soon.

Summer was creeping up quickly. The humidity had never seemed to bother me before; my hair was always a ragged mess, and I’d never worried about my mascara dripping down my cheeks.

But now I stood staring at my reflection, dabbing underneath my eyes and inspecting the black smudge on the tissue. I also smoothed the wispy hairs back around my ears and turned around to look at my dress.

Jessy had insisted that I purchase a light pink chiffon, low-cut v-neck dress.

I’d initially refused, claiming it was way too girly for my style. But she rebutted with
“Guys like feminine and soft.”

It didn’t take much more than the word
soft
to realize that it was the perfect dress to wear.

I’d weighed my motives up until that point carefully. I’d gone from thinking that there was no way I was compromising who I was for a man to thinking that a small vacation from my diehard and ruthless persona was not only justified, but richly deserved.

I was raised on the fact that beauty was inside of us all, and that looks would always fade. It was never a question that my strong personality and boyish lifestyle were what made me stand out from the crowd. But I was beginning to believe that there was a completely different side of me that I’d never explored.

And no matter how much one side of me was screaming
‘What’s the point? He’s going to rip the dress off you before midnight anyway,’
another side of me stared into the mirror at a sensual, delicate, and sexy brunette, appreciating the fact that I could be both beautiful
and
strong.

And there was no shame in wanting it.

A light rap on my door made my heart flutter. I took a deep breath to bury my nerves and looked through the peephole.

I smiled when I saw the unease in his eyes, and fought hard to keep my wits about me.

Calm down, Jack. It’s just a date. Eat your dinner, let him take you back to his apartment, and leave before he wants to cuddle.

Get in.

Get off.

Get out.

With one last deep breath, I fixed a smile on my face and turned the knob.

The warmth of the hallway oozed in as I swung open the door. A breeze of Nolan’s crisp, clean scent came with it.

He was dressed in a pair of loose jeans, his suede boots, and a white polo shirt. His hair looked damp—as if he’d just gotten out of the shower—and the scent of his soap and deodorant was doing strange things low in my belly.

It wasn’t until a few seconds after our silence that I realized we were both looking at each other with stunned expressions.

My skirt hung four inches above my knee; the dress was casual, but flirty. My hair cascaded around my collarbones, and my neckline plunged down between my breasts.

He bit his bottom lip, and I could tell he was trying to cover his shock with a smile, but it kept fading.

Oh yes, he liked the dress. And I stood to soak in every second of the flattery.

“Hi,” he finally spoke.

My smile widened, and I looked down. “Hi.”

“You look…amazing.”

“Thank you,” I said shyly.

Dammit! Listen to you! You sound like a thirteen-year-old!

He looked me over again, and his smile morphed into a devilish smirk. “I got you flowers.” He pulled a large bouquet of white roses from behind his back and held them out to me.

“Again, thank you.” I took the flowers from his hand and put my nose to the largest one in the bunch.

I felt ridiculous. Here was a man who’d probably dated and wooed any woman he wanted. He was a professional compared to me. A Don Juan. A gigolo.

And there I was, going on the first date of my life that wasn’t a high school dance.

The comparison was laughable, and I felt like a fish out of water.

All of the things I’d done in my life were things I was good at—things I knew how to do. But this?

All new.

No experience.

And completely oblivious to what I was supposed to do next.

So I did the only thing I thought I could. I looked down at the dress that had me confident enough in my skin to pull it off.

And I winged it.

I set the flowers in a glass full of water and slid on a pair of nude lace-up sandals. He watched me carefully from the door, and I realized too late that it was rude of me not to invite him in.

“Should we go then?” I asked, faking my confidence.

“After you,” he replied.

***

“So what gives, Jack?” His eyes found my legs under the table, and I quickly shifted my thighs together. “The hair. The makeup. Shit, you even shaved your legs.” A smirk danced along his lips. “Got a hot date tonight or something?”

He’d brought me to one of the nicest restaurants in town. I’d driven past it hundreds of times, but I never thought I’d find an opportunity to dine at the cloth-napkined, dimly lit establishment. It was the kind of place that charged ten bucks for the house salad.

I scratched my temple and nudged my chin in his direction. “I could ask the same about you. No more five o’clock shadow. Must take a damn fine woman to get you to shave.” I winked and took a sip from my glass.

“To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what I’m doing with her.” He scratched his jaw. “I mean, I’m not really used to…dating.”

I laughed, thinking he was being sarcastic. But the sincerity in his eyes made my smile fade quickly.

“Don’t believe me?” he asked.

“I find it hard to believe, yes.”

“Why?”

I set my glass down on the table and folded my arms across my chest. “Well,
most
women find men like
you
attractive. The muscular build, the tan, the flirtatious smile, the—”

“Most women?” he interrupted.

“I would assume so, yeah.”

“But not you,” he quickly added.

I closed my eyes and felt my teeth grind. Why did I feel the need to come up with something cryptic? Was this all some game? And did he only ask me out that night because of the chase?

I’d heard of guys like that before—the ones who only show interest because the girl acts unaffected. Not like the thousands of other women they could have in their beds at night; the women who pounced on their dicks at the first chance they got.

“Nope. Not me.” I smiled.

He looked down in thought and mumbled incoherently.

“I’ve been watching you for years now, you know.”

I felt my face flush at his confession. “What do you mean?”

“My dad is an umpire in the division. He’s been umping your games off and on since you started school here. He was always really hopeful that I’d play college baseball, but I was never into the game as much as he was.”

“Wait. So the old man that usually umps our games is your dad?” I asked, bemused.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “All the umpires in the league get a schedule, and he’s been umping most of the Beavers’ home games for the past decade.”

“But if you’re not as into the game as he is, why do you come?”

“You’re going to laugh if I tell you,” he chuckled.

“That has me intrigued.” I sipped from my water glass. “Tell me.”

He shook his head. “When I first started coming to your games a few years ago, it was to watch the…
women.
So I actually found more humor in the calendar joke when we first met than you may have realized.”

I laughed. “So three years ago you came to one of my games because your dad was the umpire, and you wanted to watch us?”

“Guilty. Actually, I initially came to see you girls play, but after a while I’d secretly fantasized about seeing a catfight—you know, one that turned into two chicks making out. Then, if I was really lucky, a mass orgy,” he deadpanned.

I broke out into laughter. “Please tell me you’re kidding!”

“Yeah, I’m kidding,” he snickered. “But I still think a calendar would be a good idea.”

I flicked droplets of water from my glass across the table, and we continued laughing.

“Tell me honestly,” I said, letting my chuckle subside. “You really don’t date often?”

“Nah. No time. I’ve been working two jobs since I graduated high school.”

“That’s insane. Why do you do that?”

He scratched his jaw. “Dad’s passion has always been baseball. I’ve been doing it to make ends meet for my family.” With a shrug, he continued. “I was never obsessed with it like he was. When he found out I wasn’t getting a baseball scholarship, I felt the only natural thing to keep him on my good side was to start umping. I started with JV and Varsity teams in high school, and after a while I began umping for college teams. I get certified every year.”