I read over the email from Erica again. Each week she’d send me the directions on what focus our week’s dates should follow. This week, week three, was “Childhood Favorites.” Could it be any more vague? I leaned back in my desk chair and sighed as I glanced around my room.
Emma had photos of her and Eli plastered all over her bedroom. Even before they got together as a couple, they’d been super close, since they’d grown up next door to each other. Her wall was a timeline of their childhood and teen memories. My room wasn’t like that. My sage walls had a few framed Banksy prints and a wide bulletin board centered over my desk that held mementos, although I’d removed most of those when Doug and I broke up. My futon bed added color to the room, with a deep violet comforter and tons of bright throw pillows.
As much as I loved my room, and it had always been my safe space, there wasn’t a lot scattered throughout that showed memories of my childhood. About the only thing I’d insisted on hanging on to from when I was little was Mr. Bear. He still sat in a place of honor on my top bookshelf—his brown fur looking a little worse for wear, maybe, but I couldn’t imagine parting with my most beloved childhood toy.
So what should I plan for my date with Chance this week based on that rather cryptic suggestion?
I called Emma, hoping she’d have some brilliant idea, but she wasn’t much help. Same with Megan. I forwarded the email to Chance, figuring if he was anything like me he’d need some time to come up with something.
A few minutes later, my email sounded. He’d answered already.
This one’s great! I can’t wait for you to see what I have in mind! ~ Chance
Guess I was the only one stuck for ideas. I looked around my room again, hoping for a glimmer of inspiration. Finally, I got an idea. I laughed, imagining Chance on our date.
…
“Now I see why you told me to wear old clothes,” Chance said, kneeling down next to me.
I grinned. “You were warned.”
The air around us was unseasonably warm and smelled of animals, hay, and manure.
He leaned in a little closer. “I don’t know how high this ranks on our…” He paused. “O.R.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Our O.R.?” It finally hit me. O.R. Operation Romance.
I shoulder-bumped him. “This is supposed to be something we loved from our childhood. And when I was a kid”—I spread my arms out wide—“I loved this place.”
Shady Maple Petting Zoo was just outside of town, and my parents had brought me here often. I’d never tired of seeing the baby animals and sometimes reaching my fingers in to stroke their soft fur. When I’d seen Mr. Bear in my room the other day, he had reminded me of all the afternoons my family had spent at this place years ago.
I reached through the slats of the wooden enclosure around a space about ten feet in diameter off of the side of the old yellow farmhouse. The fencing went up about three and a half feet. I dangled some lettuce I’d brought with us inside the fence. “Here bunny, bunny, bunny.”
Chance laughed. “Do you think they’ll answer to that?”
The fat rabbits didn’t seem to notice us, lettuce or not. They hopped around, happily sniffing the air, their whiskers wiggling, and lowering their heads to nibble at the grass.
Chance leaned his head against the wooden planks. “I thought the idea of a petting zoo was to…I don’t know…pet the animals?”
I looked at him. “What do you think we’ve been doing for the past forty minutes?”
His eyes widened, brows disappearing under his bangs. “We’ve poked our fingers through the rabbit cages. We’ve leaned over some horse stalls and got a tiny feel of one of them before it backed off, we’ve mooed at cows over a fence, and we threw some slop into a pig trough.”
I frowned. “We pet the cats.”
He laughed. “You’re absolutely right, I stand corrected. We did pet the cats.”
“And the sheep!” I brightened. We’d also managed to reach over and pat a few of the wooly white sheep as they’d strolled by in their paddock.
Chance pushed himself up. The knees of his worn jeans showed some grass stains mixed with what I hoped was mud. He wore a navy beanie pulled over his ears, but a few pieces of dark hair curled around the edges. He looked outdoorsy and…hot.
He reached down to clasp my hand and pulled me up to join him.
“Are you sure this is something you liked doing as a kid?”
“What? Why? Of course I did.”
“Then don’t take this the wrong way, okay?” He reached out and brushed some dirt off my sleeve.
“Okay.”
“Are you afraid of the animals?” He was serious.
I stared at him. “Of course I’m not afraid of them.” I pointed. “I was just trying to feed them. Would I do that if I was afraid of them?” I crossed my arms.
He scratched his neck. “Then how about we go in and feed them.” He watched me carefully. “What do you think?”
I thought about it. I liked animals, and I’d loved coming here. But I’d always wanted to stay on the other side of the fence from them, and my parents had been fine with that…never pushing me to go any closer, even if all of the other little kids clamored inside.
It wasn’t that I was afraid, exactly.
He raised an eyebrow, waiting, but didn’t say any more.
I tapped my foot and peered at the bunnies. They looked harmless enough. They were plump and just seemed interested in eating and occasionally hopping a few feet. I turned back to Chance. His slow smile seemed to show he knew my decision.
“Okay.”
“That’s my girl.” His face lit up with his grin.
If only his words were true.
I followed him into the rabbits’ pen, and we ended up laughing uproriously as Chance tried to pet a giant white rabbit. Each time he’d reach out, the rabbit would hop away lightning fast. We finally settled on a lazy brown one with long white ears who didn’t seem interested in doing anything other than snacking.
After the rabbits, we climbed over the fence and chased the sheep with some young children who had also come to visit the farm with their family. It was fun to see Chance running around waving his arms like a little kid. When he slipped and went down in a muddy area, I stopped, holding my hand over my mouth in concern. But once I knew he was all right, I couldn’t hold my laughter in; he was completely caked in mud down his right side. He looked like one of those striped cookies.
We washed up the best we could, using an old-fashioned pump out behind the barn. It was bright red, and you had to grab the handle and pump it up and down several times fast before the icy water would spill out of the mouth of the spigot. We splashed each other like kids on a hot summer day, which only made more of a mess. By that point, I didn’t even care about Elle and Josh being there with us. My sole focus was Chance.
My stomach hurt from laughing so hard, and tears streaked down my face.
“You think this is funny?” Chance looked down at himself, then at me.
“Actually, I do.”
“Oh really?”
I nodded.
“You’re going to regret that.” He lunged toward me, a scoopful of water in his hands. I squealed and ran. The water he tossed my way missed, but he reached me just as I spun to race around the side of the barn. “I’m going to get you!”
He grabbed me around the waist and swung me. The air whooshed by in a blur of trees and clouds. I yelped.
“Put me down!”
“Never.”
I tried to turn to break away, laughing, but somehow my movements tangled us up and we toppled hard to the ground. Chance landed half on top of me, half next to me, a surprised look on his face.
Then he leaned in.
I held my breath.
He slowly brought his hand up toward my face. Everyone else at the farm disappeared. I no longer heard the children’s laughter or a faraway tractor; my senses were only focused on Chance. He leaned in even closer.
&nbs
p; I closed my eyes.
His hand traced a pattern from my forehead to my nose. I felt something slippery and wet.
My eyes popped back open. I lifted my head from the ground to try to see what the heck he was doing.
He’d pulled back a little and was grinning. He held up his finger, covered in smeared mud.
“Told ya I’d get you.” His eyes twinkled.
I flopped my head back on the ground.
This kind of thing never happened in the movies.
Chapter Twenty
Chance
It wasn’t easy to leave you alone
It’s getting harder each time that I go ~ Scorpions
It was hell being around Sarah and not just grabbing her and kissing her like I wanted to do so badly.
If only she wasn’t so damn cute. Like yesterday, when she’d taken me to the petting zoo, she’d been freaking adorable. Nobody had any business looking quite that sexy in a pair of old jeans. But Sarah? She pulled it off, even with a baggy flannel and what seemed like a closet’s worth of shirts layered underneath it. She’d worn her hair in two braids spilling over her shoulders.
I knew she was a little nervous about actually going in with the animals, but she’d looked at me with those wide eyes and trusted me. She’d done it. She impressed me more and more every day I spent time with her.
When we’d had the water fight and she’d somehow managed to twist us up like a pretzel and we’d fallen on the ground together, even with the twenty shirts, I could still feel her curves pressed beneath me. It had taken mammoth amounts of self-control not to lean in and kiss her senseless.
But I knew I couldn’t. The giant camera pointed in our direction was a slap-in-the-face reminder that none of this was real. And when I kissed Sarah for the first time, I wanted it to be very real.
So instead, I’d acted like a dork and smeared mud on her face like we were five. Even with the stripe of mud, if she hadn’t stood up when she did, I don’t know if I would have been able to hold out, camera or not.
This sucked.
I was beginning to hate the entire whole stupid fake Operation Romance plan. What the hell had I been thinking agreeing to it?
I kicked the soccer ball into the net as hard as I could. Practice was already done for the day, but I needed to get some of this pent-up energy I still had inside of me out. I lined up five more balls and eyed the net, then backed away. I ran with all my might, kicking like my life depended on it.
…
“So where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” I didn’t want to give it away. We were close, anyway.
She stuck out her tongue.
I mentally groaned. Of all of the ways Sarah could tease me—
Stop it. Think of something boring.
“Do you like Shakespeare?” I blurted out.
Her nose crinkled. “What?”
“Shakespeare. I was wondering if you like him.” I sounded like an idiot.
“Um…sure. He’s okay, I guess.” She looked out of the truck window as we drove through the darkening streets. “Why? Are we going to a play or something? If we are, I think I’m way underdressed.”
I barked out a laugh. “No. It was just something that popped in my head.”
Maybe using Shakespeare to stop thinking of Sarah’s mouth wasn’t my best idea yet.
“Oh.” She still looked confused. I didn’t blame her.
A snort came from the back seat. I rolled my eyes and drummed my fingers on the wheel.
The whole ride was made more awkward by the fact that Josh had decided that from now on any time Sarah and I drove together to and from our dates, he needed to drive with us. He’d told us that he was worried he might be missing some vital conversations that could be used for the articles. At least we didn’t have a camera flashing as we drove. I guess they figured pictures of us stuffed in a car wouldn’t be print-worthy. Or maybe Elle and Hannah had decided they weren’t going to subject themselves to my babbling attempts at conversation. One of them would meet us at our destination.
So now we had a mute third party in the back seat, and we had to try to pretend he wasn’t there. While I talked about Shakespeare. Hopefully he hadn’t used the same trick and didn’t know what I was doing. If I read about myself being horny and trying to cover it by talking about the Bard, I was moving to Siberia.
The lights of the skate park appeared ahead on the right. I put my turn signal on and glanced over. “We’re here.” I tried to gauge her reaction.
Her mouth opened and closed.
“A skate park,” she finally said as we pulled in and found a parking space.
“Yep!” I turned off the truck and turned to face her.
“You brought me to a skateboarding park,” she repeated herself.
I nodded. “I did.”
“Hmm.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that, but I hoped she’d like it once she tried it. Or at least not hate it.
She looked out the window. The park was built when I was about ten. I’d started coming with a neighbor and his older brother and loved it. The park was built with varying degrees of half-pipes, quarter-pipes, vert ramps, banked ramps, snake runs, and a stair set. I wasn’t the best by any means, but still always had a blast.
About three years ago, I’d heard talk they were going to tear the place down, with some county legislators worried that it was too dangerous and not wanting to be liable for accidents. But some extreme sports company had come in and bought the property and improved on it, making sure the park met code and had proper lighting. The county backed down from its fight, mainly because they didn’t want all the skaters to start using public spaces to skate instead, which had started to happen—some kids skating on sculptures and public stairs in parks. So the skate park lived.
It was pretty busy this time of night. Elle was already here, parked near the entrance. She caught sight of my truck and jumped out of her car, already popping the lens cover off her camera. I hoped Sarah hadn’t noticed her yet. I knew she was more relaxed when she wasn’t aware we were being photographed.
I quirked an eyebrow in her direction. “So are you ready to be brave?”
She took a deep breath and smiled. “What have I got to lose? Let’s go.”
We hopped out, and I snagged my old board from the back of the truck. I’d purposely placed it there so she wouldn’t see it and get a hint as to what we’d be doing tonight. I’d also called my old buddy and borrowed his board so Sarah and I would each have one. I handed her the black one, a red flame showing on the underside.
“This is the one I used to ride,” I told her.
“Should I be worried that it looks all scratched up? Just how many times did you fall?”
I grinned. “I plead the Fifth.”
She laughed and zipped up her fitted hoodie.
“Here,” I said.
She took the black beanie I offered her, staring at it. “What’s this for?”
“You can’t be an official skater without the hat.” I pulled a navy one over my own head. “See?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?” I could tell she was trying to fight back a grin.
I sighed heavily, all for show, and took the hat back.
“Wait, I’ll wear it,” she said, reaching to take it from me.
“I know.” I smiled and brushed a flyaway hair from her face. “I’m going to put it on for you.”
“Oh,” she said, blinking. The bright lights in the parking lot cast shadows from Sarah’s lashes onto her cheeks. Each time she blinked, the tiny shadows danced. I stood still, watching, forgetting what I was supposed to be doing.
She cleared her throat.
“The…the hat?” Her voice was uneven.
Great. I’d made her nervous, staring at her like some creeper.
“Oh, right, sorry.” I shook my head and reached out to gently pull the hat on over Sarah’s curls. Some of them pulled forward into her face with the movement. “Oh
, um…sorry.” I tried to fix it, to smooth them back and tuck them under.
The whole time, she stood stock-still, not moving a muscle.
I stepped back. “I think I got it.” She looked adorable.
She reached up and patted her head. “It feels good. I mean, the hat feels good.” She blushed. “You know what I mean.”
I tried not to laugh. I nodded. “I know what you mean.” I nodded toward the entrance. “C’mon, let’s go try not to kill ourselves.”
It went better than expected, and Sarah was a trouper. She’d fallen a bunch of times, but so had I. We didn’t attempt anything dangerous, instead trying to first concentrate on staying upright on the board while moving. The familiar groove came back to me after a few push-offs and rocky starts. I showed Sarah how to position her feet and how to kick off to gain acceleration. Mostly it was nice to have an excuse to place my hands on her waist as I guided her on how to position her hips and lower her body with the board.
It wasn’t just about physical attraction for me with Sarah—although that was obviously there, off the charts. But seeing her sweetness, her generosity, she’d kind of snuck in when I wasn’t looking and grabbed ahold of me. I wasn’t positive what to do with that, especially knowing how she felt. Or rather, how she didn’t feel.
We ignored the section of the park set up for die-hards. Instead, I’d led her over to a broad, flat section where only a couple of younger kids stood holding their boards, probably working up their nerve to show off to each other by doing some tricks on the course.
I peeked over my shoulder. Elle hadn’t come in. She stood with Josh outside the chain-link fence, face hidden behind the camera that seemed to be attached to her. I wondered how people would even be able to tell it was us through the fencing, but figured she knew what she was doing. I was grateful for the distance. Not having her in with us made it easier to just be ourselves, to not constantly feel like we were animals on display at a zoo.
The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request) Page 11
