Dolce (Love at Center Court #2) (23 page)

BOOK: Dolce (Love at Center Court #2)
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I left the truck in a spot behind the shopping center and hustled through the cold, shivering because my hair was still wet and it was fucking freezing. I practically ran to the door of the joint. Once I got inside, I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself look presentable. I hung my coat on a hook and paced toward the back, surveying all the tables.

Nothing.

As I headed to the bar, I saw her. She was sitting on a stool, her hair tied up on top of her head, her sweatshirt falling off one shoulder.

I walked right over, no warning, no patience. Running my hand over her bare shoulder—her right one, the one without my name—I spoke in her ear.

“Thought you weren’t legal.”

She flinched and jumped in her seat. “Blane?” She gave me an annoyed look and quickly slipped her phone into her purse.

“Hi,” I said sheepishly.

“What are you doing here?”

I leaned against the vacant stool next to her. “Looking for you. Where have you been?”

“Mo said he saw me?”

I nodded. “Where have you been?” I repeated my question, wanting . . . no,
needing
an answer.

“I got thrown out of my major.”

“I heard. Sonny told me, but that’s all he would say.”

“I moved off campus, and I’ve just been trying to stay under the radar.” She kept twisting her wrist and looking at her watch.

“You meeting someone?”

“Actually, yeah. I have to go; someone’s picking me up.”

“I miss seeing you,” I admitted foolishly.

“Miss you too, but I have to go.”

I curled my fingers and ran the back of my hand along her cheek. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, and she looked beautiful. “Saw you there tonight.”

A smile started to form on her face, but she quickly schooled it. “You know I’m a fan.”

“Let’s have another drink.” I pointed toward her empty glass.

“I can’t.”

“I got you; I’m not who or what you want. I’m just a baller or whatever. A stupid guy who will make a ton of money someday, thanks to my athletic skills.”

“Stop.” She placed her hand on my chest and fire licked through the Henley, her fingers sending a jolt to my pulse. “It’s not you; it’s me. I’m figuring stuff out, and you don’t need that.”

“Let me decide that, not you.”

“Seriously, Blane. I have to go. Great win tonight.”

She planted a small kiss on my cheek, her lips ghosting over my five o’clock shadow before slipping away. I wanted to sink my tongue into her mouth, but she was on the move.

“Wait!” I said. “Can we get a drink tomorrow?”

She swallowed hard, and a strange expression flitted over her face before it was gone.

“Coffee maybe?” I was grasping at anything.

Cate sighed. “Sure. How about Starbucks off campus?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Two o’clock?”

“Good,” I said, taking her elbow. “Let me walk you out.”

“No, you go ahead. I’m going to use the restroom first.”

I wanted to wait and see her out, but she’d looked like seven shades of green when I suggested it. Having been raised by a single mom, I knew not to push it.

So I ran back to my truck, ratcheted up the heat, and headed back to what I was sure would be a rager at my apartment. When I scrolled through Twitter while I waited at a red light, my suspicions were confirmed.

 

@HaftonBabe:

Where is @BallerSteele? I’m waiting for him at his place. #nolongercelibate #GoHaftonGreen

Catie

I
didn’t know why I agreed to meet Blane, other than I was a sadist. Or was I a masochist? I didn’t know which was which, but I clearly liked to inflict pain on myself.

I couldn’t stop thinking about Blane as I got dressed. I even straightened up my bathroom before tossing everything Ariel-related into a drawer, out of sight.

Not that I was planning on bringing Blane back here, but he couldn’t know about this. Ever.

I wasn’t ashamed. In fact, I was scared by how much I felt in control over the situation. The money aside, I was making my own rules. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t in anyone’s shadow, and I was standing tall in my choice. It wasn’t at all what I thought would come of the experience. Originally, I wanted to understand why women started in the industry, and why they stayed.

Now I got it. What else would they do?

Catching a glance at myself in the mirror, I smiled. I was still the same short, curvy woman, but there was something different. I felt more desirable, but not because of the sexy videos. No, those left me needing a shower. It was the control. My mom wasn’t there telling me how stupid I was, and my dad wasn’t comforting me with food. My sisters weren’t judging, and Stanwick wasn’t chastising me.

My phone pinged just as I was heading out to walk to Starbucks. Standing in the vestibule of my shabby apartment building, I plucked it out of my coat pocket and read the incoming text.

 

TESS
: Hey, girl! Where have you been? Would love to see you.

CATIE
: I’m here. Want to do lunch this week?

TESS
: Sure. Did you see what’s going on all over Twitter? Sonny’s in love.

 

I smiled to myself. What an idiot.

 

CATIE
: Yep! Dumb guy. Of course he is.

TESS
: And you? Have you seen you-know-who?

CATIE
: No.

TESS
: Fine. Oh, heard from Shelby you got an ID! Want to do lunch next week at the Mexican place and have a margarita?

 

Why not? I was only taking two classes since I was thrown out of my major, making me ineligible to take what I wanted this trimester. And only two classes on my schedule left me a bit of free time.

 

CATIE
: Sure.

TESS
: Text me on Monday.

CATIE
: OK.

 

I shoved the phone back in my bulky coat pocket and pushed the door out into the cold winter air. The sky was gray and hung heavy with moisture. It would probably snow tonight, and I would be happy to snuggle at home in pajamas. Frank didn’t film on Saturdays, choosing to take his wife out instead, so it was my night off. Otherwise, I worked double-time during the week, filming as much as I could. The money was an insane motivator, the notoriety not even a close second for me.

It was also free speech and such. I was so sick of Stanwick tossing out my ideas. These ladies did what they had to do, and no one stopped them from doing it.

My boots crunched through the leftover snow on the sidewalk as I hustled to a hot cup of coffee and an even hotter tall drink of man. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of what I was doing. I bundled myself tighter in my scarf and picked up my pace.

Why couldn’t I have aimed for a soccer scholarship? Instead I was thrown out of my major, kicked to the curb, and turned into an overnight porn sensation.

“Hey! Cate.”

I turned to see Blane getting out of his pickup.

“I would have picked you up,” he said as he rushed over to walk in with me.

“Not necessary. A little fresh air does me good.”

I tried to form a friendly smile, but couldn’t help the sizzle traveling through my whole body at the sight of him. He looked good in bulky Timberlands, with a puffy coat unzipped over skinny sweats and a thermal shirt.

“I see you’re still sporting your sweatband from last night.” I sniffed deeply as he held the door open, allowing the aroma of fresh-roasted coffee beans to give my tired head a much-needed jolt.

“Can’t take it off now.”

“I don’t even want to know what it smells like.”

“Hey, I run it through the water in the shower.”

We stepped in line, and like a missile, his hand landed on my back in a fiery explosion. I tried to scoot away, but he pulled me into the circle of his arm and whipped out his phone to snap a selfie.

“What are you doing?”

“Sonny lifted the ban; I’m sure you already know. The whole campus is wondering where Cute Catie is, and I’m giving them proof she’s with me.”

His fingers worked overtime on his phone before he said proudly, “Done.”

“I don’t even want to know what you just did,” I whispered before breaking free from his hold.

“Hey, Steele, awesome game last night,” the barista yelled.

“Yeah, unreal,” the girl at the register said, practically swooning at the sight of him.

“Thanks, y’all,” he said as we stepped up to the counter. “A cappuccino, fully leaded, and a bottled water.”

I gave him the stink-eye. “You don’t have to order for me.”

“Cut the feminist crap. You’re just an everyday woman now.”

Little did he know
.

“I drink a skinny latte now, for your information,” I snorted back.

“That explains your curves being smaller. I liked them better the other way.”

He turned back to the swoony counter girl and said, “Give me two of those scones too.”

“Stop, you’re making a scene,” I mumbled, noticing a lot of customers glancing at their phones and then looking up at us.

“Hey, Blane, will you take a selfie with me too?” some girl ran over from the fireplace to ask.

“Sure.” He winked at her and said “smile” as she hit the button on her phone.

I frowned at Blane as the girl scurried off, holding her phone in the air triumphantly.

“Glad to know you’re not putting all your eggs in one basket.”

“Oh, I am. I most certainly am, Cate.”

That’s exactly what I didn’t want to hear
.

We sat down in a couple of overstuffed chairs near the corner, the fire to our right and the bathrooms to our left. Too late, I realized there was no avenue of escape.

Blane cracked his water, took a swig, and leaned close to me. With his hand on my knee, he said, “Cate, what the hell? What’s up?”

“I needed space,” I said, giving him an overused excuse. Next I’d be giving him the old,
It’s not you, it’s me.

“Come on, you may have acted all small with Sonny, but that’s not you. What the fuck?” His hair was wet from snow, and his eyes were flecked with small slivers of gold inside the green. He wasn’t smiling, though. He looked concerned.

If only he knew sitting with me could ruin his career.

“It was bullshit,” I said, averting my eyes to gaze unseeing at the fireplace. “I was thrown out of my department and I had to think shit over.”

He smirked at the swear words I let fly. “I get that, but we had this one time . . . one night, whatever you want to call it. I don’t usually do romance, but it felt great. And intimate. And then you bailed.”

“I know, I don’t know. Ugh.” I leaned back, resting my head on the back of the chair for a moment as I closed my eyes. “There are too many mixed messages out there, and they’re driving me wild.”

“You’re a witty, sexy woman, and I’m an interested man. There’s no mixed messages here.”

“And then what? I give you it all, all of me, and then what? The NBA, and tall, gorgeous women throwing themselves all over you?” I grabbed my latte and took a big gulp. My stomach tumbled with my nervousness; the lonely scones on the table weren’t even calling to me.

“Whoa, let’s back up. Did you hear me? You’re a woman and I’m a man, and we’re both young. I can’t say shit about next year, but right now I’d like to hang out with you.”

He took another swig of his water, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Strangely, I wanted to run my tongue along his neck.

“Why?”

“Come on, you can’t be that naive, Cate. You’re sweet, sassy, built like a woman should be. Any guy would be silly not to want to hang with you.”

“Are you doing that whole swoony thing again?”

“I’m trying it out for a while. Is it working?” This time he smiled and a small dimple appeared on his right cheek.

I wanted to lick there too.

“It’s sort of working,” I admitted.

I gulped coffee and tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I’d already tainted my own reputation and stood to do worse when my research came out, and now I was considering tossing this guy’s future in the trash.

“So, what the hell have you been doing all this time? Watching women’s basketball?”

Nerves skated over my spine like a hockey player on steroids.

Or a basketball player with NBA aspirations.

I looked away, shifting a little in my chair. “Um, I’ve been up to a little of this and a little of that. Made a few new friends and got an ID, but you already know that. Experiencing life.”

That wasn’t too much of a lie. Exactly.

“So, can we do a little experiencing together?”

I raised an eyebrow at his dirty suggestion.

“Not like that. Right away. G-rated or whatever. I can take you on a picnic. Isn’t that what girls love?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been on one.”

“Then we should do it.”

“Blane, it’s the middle of January. When it’s warmer, maybe?” I nipped off a piece of the scone and popped it in my mouth.

“Ha! Yeah. How about an indoor picnic? Next week? We’re traveling the beginning of the week to Ann Arbor, but when I get back?”

I thought no, but yes came out of my mouth, and my heart sank to my boots.

BOOK: Dolce (Love at Center Court #2)
6.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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