Oh God, when did I become such a girl?
Chapter 5
Ben
Asking Tori for Amanda’s number was the absolute worst thing I could have done. On so many levels.
After she gave it to me, I had every intention of sending her a text. Then I got all in my head about what it would say. Because apparently I’ve never talked to a woman before. Or so it would seem.
The options that did not make the cut were:
Hey Amanda. Sup?
How are you?
So remember last night when you told me that joke? It was funny. I want to hear more funny jokes. From you.
I had a great time last night. Want to do it again?
I don’t know when I got so bad at talking to women, or maybe it’s just the effect Amanda has on me. Either way, by the time I settled on what to write her, I got slammed with client calls. As soon as I came back up for air, I had a message waiting for me from Tori.
Tori: Drinks. Tonight. 7:30. Wear the cologne I like, not the stuff you think smells good but doesn’t.
That was my friend’s not so subtle way of telling me that she’s doing her best to not play matchmaker, but she absolutely is.
The only good part is that I don’t have to send a text that sounds like a teenager wrote it.
As I walk into the bar at 7:20, I notice that the only people here are Tori and Kalum… and Amanda.
Normally, when I get a text saying “we” are going out, this includes Annabelle and Jaxson, Kalum and Tori’s best friends who have been married for a few years, and her sister Scarlett and his brother Maverick, who are about to walk down the aisle in the next few months.
Of course, Tori would pull this. I can’t believe I didn’t realize this was a setup all along.
“Hello everyone. Am I late?” I ask, giving Tori a side eye as I take a seat.
“Nope! Not at all!” she says, a little too excited for a normal tone. “I just messed up the time with you. My bad. But we’re all here now. Have a seat!”
I situate myself on the barstool and give a smile to Amanda, who I must say looks amazing tonight.
Instead of her on-duty uniform of slacks and a blouse, she’s wearing an off-the-shoulder sweater. I know necks aren’t supposed to be a turn on, but I want to do nothing but kiss the skin showing. I’ll start at her shoulder, up to her neck and then to the lips that I now notice have the faintest coat of lipstick covering them.
“Hey there,” I say, hoping I come off nonchalant.
“Two nights in a row? What do I owe the pleasure?” she says quietly before taking a pull of her beer.
“I could ask you the same question.” I look around for our waitress but only see Tori’s shit-eating grin across the table.
“I thought everyone was coming?” I ask, giving Tori an “I know what you are pulling look.” Which of course, she just brushes off.
“Everyone had stuff. You know adult stuff. But no sense in the four of us not hanging out!”
I want to tell her to knock it off, but I have a feeling that will only make this situation worse. Then I look at Kalum, who is giving me the “you know I couldn’t stop it” look.
After 20 minutes of Tori either talking at 90 miles per hour, or her staring at us like we are exhibits at the zoo, I can’t take it anymore.
“Do you want to go play darts?” I ask Amanda, desperate for anything to get away from Tori and this creepy Joker smile she’s now got going on. Seriously, how she and Kalum dated for months without her giving it away I have no damn idea.
“That sounds great,” Amanda says, giving one more questioning glance to Tori before heading over to the other side of the bar.
I stop to grab us each another drink as she walks over to set up the board. I didn’t get to fully look at her when I walked in and I’m actually kind of glad I now get to appreciate her without Tori’s prying eyes.
Her jeans are fit in all the right places. And I mean all. The. Right. Places. I’ve never considered myself an ass man, but I’m pretty sure right now I’d lay worship to Amanda’s.
“So Tori was acting weird right?” she says as I hand over her drink.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. I think that was partially my fault.”
“How so?” she says, lining up to take her first shot.
“I… well I might have asked her for your number today… and I’m pretty sure this is a setup.”
My words shock her so much that she completely misses the board.
“You… you asked for my number?” she says, not looking at me as she lines up another shot.
Am I making her nervous? Amanda is the epitome of cool, calm and collected. She deals with high-powered firearms every day. No way does my admission of wanting her phone number throw her for this kind of loop.
“Is it a problem that I did?”
“It’s not… I mean no, it’s not a problem.”
“Good,” I say, gently brushing my hand over hers as I walk up to take my shot. Her response isn’t a “get the hell away from me,” and judging by the way her body slightly shook when I touched her, I’m going to bet she’s feeling what I am.
I decide to let the number discussion go for a bit, instead choosing to talk with Amanda as we take turns throwing darts, even if we long ago abandoned any sort of scoring system.
I learn that she loves pizza, but only with cheese. She loves hockey but has never been to a Blackhawks game. She refuses to put up Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving and she is Team Apple over Team Pumpkin Spice.
I tell her about the six months I tried to be a vegetarian, which I crashed and burned hard at my first Fourth of July barbeque. I admit to not knowing much about hockey, but that whenever she wants to go to a Cubs game, I’ll be the first one in line.
Our talk isn’t anything deep, but I’ve learned more about Amanda in the last two days than I have since I met her, and I now know for certain I want to learn a lot more about this woman.
I turn to look at the table where we left Kalum and Tori, only to find that a new group sitting there.
“I think we have been abandoned,” I say, checking my phone and noticing a text from Tori to both Amanda and me.
Tori: Kalum was tired. We took off. Be good you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!
Amanda is reading her phone as well and we both laugh at Tori’s words.
“Don’t do anything she wouldn’t do? Is there anything she won’t do?”
“Nothing that I have figured out yet, but when I find it out I’ll let you know.”
For the first time tonight, silence falls between us. Now knowing that it’s just the two of us, all of a sudden I feel the nerves that crept up earlier today when I couldn’t send a simple “hi” text.
“So I guess you have my number now,” Amanda says, reaching for her purse and jacket.
“I guess I do,” I respond, leading her out of the bar.
I stand with her as she waits for the car she ordered, my hands itching to touch her. But they don’t. I stand like a perfect gentleman as the black sedan pulls up. Now that the car is here, I’m mentally hitting myself for the night ending like this.
Should I kiss her cheek? Tell her I’ll call her? Give her a hug? A fist bump?
“I had a good time tonight,” she says, leaning in to place a kiss on my cheek.
“Can we do this again?” I ask, reaching for her hand, lightly brushing my thumb over her knuckles.
She doesn’t answer, just gets in the car as I watch it drive away.
What the hell was that?
As I go to walk to my car a few blocks away, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Amanda: You have my number now. You should use it =)
A smile breaks across my face and I can’t help but walk the rest of the way to my car with a bit more bounce in my step.
Now I guess I’ll have to thank Tori for this one.
Chapter 6
Amanda
Me: You have my number now. Yo
u should use it =)
Was that not clear enough? Was the smiley face too much?
I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have the best track record with men, especially initiating things, but I think that was pretty freaking clear.
However, here I am, two days after our meetup at the bar and I have not heard one thing from Ben. Not even a return text, though I can clearly see he read it minutes after I sent it to him.
Normally in a situation like this, I’d ask Tori what her advice would be. But considering I know she had a hand in our encounter the other night, I feel like getting her more involved is probably not my best option.
So instead, I’m doing what I do best when I’m frustrated. I hit things.
Before I wandered back into Kalum’s life, I usually got my workouts in at the gym at the precinct. It worked, but I couldn’t turn down the offer to start working out at Jaxson’s boxing and MMA gym. The equipment was state of the art and I actually found a few sparring partners when I wanted to hit more than the heavy bag.
Today the heavy bag is just fine, partly because I’m picturing Ben’s handsome face on it. That handsome, infuriating, can’t-text-me-back face.
I really thought the few nights we hung out that we had a good time. I know I did. I might not want to be running into a relationship right now -- it would have to take the right man to be able to make me not work 60 hours a week -- but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like someone to get dinner with every once in a while. Maybe catch a movie. Maybe help me break my dry spell that’s serving a longer sentence than some of the people I’ve arrested.
“Whoa, easy there killer,” Jaxson says, stepping next to the heavy bag. “What has you looking like you are trying to punch away the world?”
Even though Jaxson and I grew up together, along with Kalum and Maverick, we really didn’t talk a lot. I didn’t mind, Jaxson really didn’t talk to anyone. But since we became re-acquainted and he married Annabelle, that Jaxson is long gone.
“Can’t a girl just want to go a few rounds with a 100-pound bag?”
He laughs, grabbing it for me so I can get in a few more punches. “She can. And she has. But this is intense, even for you.”
I don’t answer, continuing to punch out my irritation over a certain dark-haired pretty boy.
When my arms feel like they are going to fall off, movement in the nearby sparring ring gets my attention. The guy facing me works here. I’ve seen him in the ring a few times. But he’s not the one I can’t seem to stop staring at.
No, this man is lean but muscular. He has a tattoo on the top of his back of a compass that is beautiful, and I can’t help but notice the half sleeve of artwork on his left arm. From a distance, you can’t tell what they are, but it’s clear that every drop of ink is on there for a reason.
His form is graceful, yet powerful. Though it’s just sparring, you can tell he’s in control of each of his movements, that he’s throwing every punch for a reason.
“Can you believe that Ben is a fighter?” Jaxson says, snapping me from my staring. “Shocks the hell out of me every time.”
“What? Huh? Ben?”
Did I just hear him right?
Jaxson nods. “Yeah. When he asked me about a membership I was a little confused. He seems like too much of a pretty boy to want to fight. Just shows you can’t judge a book by its cover.”
Like he knows we are talking about him, Ben stops and turns to look at us. A smile peaks from his lips as I’m pretty sure my jaw is still on the ground.
My jaw is still in the exact position when Ben begins walking toward where I’m standing. I have no clue if Jaxson is still here. I couldn’t give a shit at this point. I also know that minutes ago I was picturing Ben’s face on the heavy bag, but right now that’s the farthest thing from my mind.
Now, I have a very specific place I’m picturing his face.
Somewhere between visioning Ben’s face between my legs and staring at the artwork on his arm, I realize he’s standing in front of me. And I think talking. Because the way he’s looking at me right now I either have something hanging from my nose or he’s waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry… what was that?” Might as well play dumb instead of digging my hole any deeper.
Ben laughs while wiping his forehead with a towel. “I said that I’m glad I ran into you. I was going to text you, but now that you’re here I can just ask you myself.”
I’m still half-dazed and all I can do is nod. I faintly hear Jaxson laugh next to me before saying something in the aspect of “good luck” before walking away. Who he’s wishing luck to I’m not sure.
“Ask me what?” I repeat, praying that is what in fact he said. I’m still having face-between-thighs thoughts.
“If you’d like to get dinner. Tonight? Tomorrow? Whenever you’re free.”
“You want to go to dinner with me?” I don’t know why I’m asking this, he just asked me and I’m normally not this insecure, but since I didn’t hear from him I assumed his interest was fleeting.
“Yes, Amanda. I want to go to dinner with you. Why would I get your number if I wasn’t going to use it?”
“Well, you hadn’t yet.”
He sighs and takes my hand, leading me away from the center of the gym. In no way is this private, but at least it’s not in the main traffic zone.
“I wanted to. I’ve wanted to text you every day since Tori gave it to me,” he takes a breath, but he doesn’t let go of my hand yet. “But I didn’t want to seem too needy. Or pathetic. But believe me, I haven’t thought of much else since I ran into you last week.”
Being a cop, my bullshit detector is always turned on and picks up everything. But I’m not getting anything like that from Ben. I now feel bad for pretending to beat in his beautiful face.
Last time the ball was in my court like this, I played it coy, bouncing a pass back to him. This time, I’m not going to leave any room for doubt.
“Tomorrow at 7. I like Italian.”
Chapter 7
Ben
I know I’ve been on many shitty dates over the past few months, so my radar could be a bit off. But I can’t imagine a first date going better than this is right now with Amanda.
It probably helps that we’ve already done the small talk, so we know some basics about each other. It also helps that I know she doesn’t eat plastic or have a laugh that makes me want to grind my teeth.
And it definitely helps that we didn’t tell Tori and Kalum that we were going out tonight.
Dinner was amazing. I found a place that is part restaurant, part wine bar, so we had a natural place to have a drink if we so desired so after our meal.
And I very much so desired.
Every time I’m with Amanda I notice something different about her. Tonight it’s her hair.
I knew it was a honey shade of blonde, not too light and not too dark, and I had guessed it was long. But normally she has it up away from her face or in a bun. But tonight it’s down and her long locks have a perfect wave to them. The way it frames her face makes her look even more beautiful.
And it also gives me thoughts of what that hair would look like feathered across my pillows.
“So Ben, tell me about yourself,” Amanda says, playing with the stem of her wine glass. “I feel like whenever we are out everyone forgets that you didn’t grow up with us, or aren’t related to someone.”
I laugh, knowing her words are true. “There’s not much to tell. I grew up in the suburbs, about an hour away in Naperville. Mom and Dad are still married. I try to visit them a few times a month so my mom doesn’t worry.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
I take a sip of my wine, giving myself a second on deciding how to answer this. I don’t want to lie to Amanda, but I also don’t want to get into the long conversation that is my brother. Not on a night that’s going so well.
“I have an older brother, but I don’t see him often. How about you? Are you close with your family?”<
br />
It’s at least half of the truth, which is fine for tonight.
Amanda goes with the switch of conversation, in which I learn that she’s an only child to a single dad. Sensing she also doesn’t want to get into that part of her family, we turn our conversation to her growing up with Kalum, Maverick and Jaxson, my very unconventional friendship with Tori and how she became a police officer.
She also admits, though on accident, her odd hobby that I thought only 70-year olds or recluses had.
“Puzzles? Like jigsaw puzzles?”
She nods, smiling before taking a drink of her wine. At this point, we just ordered a bottle, neither of us ready for this night to end. “Yes. Jigsaw puzzles. Have you ever done one?”
“Yes. When I was 10.”
She gently slaps my arm, but lingers a little too long, not that I mind. “Don’t knock it. It’s great to work your brain and it makes a beautiful picture. And please, I’m sure you have some weird hobby.”
“Nope. Nothing here. Completely normal.”
She laughs. “Your not normal response lends me to believe that is a bunch of bullshit. I told you mine. Now you tell yours.”
I sigh, not ashamed to admit this, though I usually don’t divulge this until date 10. Which means likely never.
“I play chess,” I admit, hoping she’ll drop the discussion.
“How is chess weird? All it tells me is that you’re super smart because everyone I’ve met who plays chess is a freaking genius.”
I sigh, not believing that I’m about to admit this to a woman who I hope wants to sleep with me someday.
“I’m in a chess club.”
Her eyes go wide before a smile spreads across her face.
“Don’t chess clubs only exist in high school? Oh my God… please tell me you were the president of the chess club in high school,” she says, the excitement now flowing out of her.
“For your information, I was the vice president,” I say. “And this club is a little more sophisticated. Which means we now drink while we play. Generally bourbon.”
Say You're Mine Page 56
