by Haley Pierce
A minute passed, and then he said,
Sounds good. No dinner?
I smirked and typed,
I have previous arrangements, sorry. Friend’s birthday.
The wait until his next text was nearly as long as before, but it read
Okay. I have an idea, but I’ll message you details later.
I regarded the message curiously, wondering what his idea could be. A daytime date could be anything. Did he have something as simple as lunch in mind, or was he contemplating something more? As much as I wanted to bug him for details now, I held back. Self-control, I could do that.
Satisfied, I set my phone back down and resolved to return to work—but only after first messaging Megan a summary of all that had transpired. I made sure to boast about my willpower just enough, and specified that Derek was the one who reached out for me. That must have meant he liked me, right?
Chapter 10
“Hold it like this. You’ll have better control over the recoil,” Derek said, making minuscule adjustments to my hands on the gun.
I nodded. I might not have been to paintball before, but it wasn’t my first time shooting something. As a child, I used to shoot my father’s BB gun on occasions. I wasn’t a good shot by any means, but at least I wasn’t a complete novice.
I was shocked at first when I realized that this was where he was taking me. This is not exactly a playboy move, I thought right away. If it were Tamara or Megan, they would’ve refused on the spot once they walked into the unassuming warehouse and put it together that their date had decided paintballing was a good idea for a date.
“Seriously?” I said to him, the moment I realized myself.
“What? Don’t you like to try new things?”
“Yeah new restaurants, not macho war games.”
I heard a familiar voice call out Derek’s name from behind me. It was Adam, and he looked surprised to see me there.
“Claire?” He said sounding puzzled.
“Yeah, I think I’m just as surprised to be here as you are.”
It was Derek’s turn now to explain what was going on. He pulled me aside, “Do you not want to do this?” He said looking a little sheepish, like he suddenly realized that it was a little weird to bring a date paintballing.
I laughed, which caused him to relax a little. “Does this usually get girls in the mood?” I said to him coyly, loving the fact that I now had the opportunity to make him squirm.
He smiled a bit, although his face was flushed. “I don’t know what I was thinking, but somehow I just thought you might enjoy this.”
“Do you see any other women here?” I asked him.
“No, but I’ve never met a woman that I thought could handle something like this. Me and my friends come here once a week. I just thought that I’d like you to see it too.”
I was stunned. It was a little dense, but also incredibly sweet. Here he was, opening up in an unexpected way again. I had never seen someone more vulnerable at that point.
“Does it hurt?”
“Can you handle a little pain?”
I pushed him aside and walked up to Adam. “How does this all work?” I asked, feeling a bit nervous but also totally exhilarated. I realized that Derek might not have been so dense to bring me here. I did love to try new things, especially things that felt a little forbidden and dangerous to me.
We were huddled against a brick barrier, the two of us and the final survivors of our team. Derek was the foundation of our team, the rest of which were a group of strangers who were primarily of average skill-level but weren’t that familiar with field strategy. In this death-match against a bunch of rowdy teenagers, our team members held their own at first but succumbed to panic and clumped together after the first couple went down. Adam handled his own for a while, but was soon separated from Derek and me. As it turned out, without Derek watching your back, you were as good as gone in this game. It worried me, but Derek brushed it off saying, with no veiled confidence, that just the two of us could take them all.
Derek had me watch one spot while he went off to the right. He told me to shoot anything that comes into my sight. I soon heard a few pings and groans from places around me and suddenly Derek was by my side again.
“It is now two against three,” he said, barely out of breath.
I now kind of understood why he brought me here. Whether he knew it or not, I felt like he just wanted to show me that he was good at this. As if somehow me knowing that he could handle himself like this would help me worry less when he left.
Derek and I were taking cover behind a partial wall again and our target was about two dozen feet in front of us, ducked behind a wooden crate. Derek pointed him out to me silently.
“Which one of us is going to draw his fire?” I asked.
Derek grinned at me, the adrenaline pumping through him evident even in his eyes. “Think you can make the shot yourself?”
I popped my head out for a glimpse of the scenario. It wasn’t a long shot, but the player wasn’t stupid, or the type to make a larger target of himself than needed. It was likely he’d only break cover for a second.
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I think I should draw his fire and you take the shot. I’ll try not to die.”
“I believe in you,” he patted me on the shoulder.
I smiled, surprised at the warmth spreading through my body with such simple words.
“I won’t let you down,” I said. “I—”
A loud pop sounded through the air. Derek let out a grunt that sounded two-parts pain and one-part surprise. I jumped at the recoil in my hands and instantly knew what had happened.
Mortified, I dropped my gun with a muttered stream of expletives, stood and stepped back. “I am so—”
A force struck my left shoulder and I expelled a short cry. I looked over to see a blotch of blue paint staining my shoulder pad. Then I returned my attention to Derek, who was leaning against the wall and rubbing at the yellow patch I had given him on his thigh.
“I am so, so sorry!” I said, running to Derek’s side. My heart lodged in my chest as I thought of the possibility of him hating me forever for shooting him and throwing the match.
His face was pulled into a tight frown, but I couldn’t tell what exactly it was attributed to – disappointment, anger, pain, or a combination of all of them. He seemed to mutter something under his breath but then looked up at me. His frown shifted into a wide smile.
“Did you really just shoot me?”
I hesitated, “...Yes?”
He laughed and pulled me into a one-armed hug. “I can’t believe you just shot me.”
“I know...” I whined into his arm. “I’m so sorry!”
“We could have won.”
“I know...”
“Hey, cheer up. It’s fine.” He brushed my hair and whispered into my ear, “You’ll just have to make it up to me.”
I wanted to reply with something witty or flirtatious, but was still flustered, and my throat was a little tight despite him being a good sport about it.
“It’s fine, really.”
“You sure? I feel awful.”
“Yes. Just promise to make it up to me later.”
Catching the familiar glint in his eye made me smile. “Okay, just as long as there aren’t any more shots fired before we’re both ready.”
The dig caught him off guard, but soon he was laughing even harder and wrestling me to the ground. I had seen his muscles before, and it was so strange and wonderful how playful and tender he could be.
After returning our equipment to the facility’s reception area, I apologized again to Adam and Derek for essentially forfeiting the paintball game. But Derek only kissed me and said he preferred getting killed by me than by the enemy. Adam said his goodbyes and jokingly called me “Double Agent” for the third time since the game ended.
Derek and I grabbed a bite to eat at a nearby food truck specializing in Italian-style pizza. We ate our slices on some
steps that were sheltered from the rain of sudden showers. The forecast hadn’t called for rain, so we were both caught unaware and ended up with damp hair. But by the time we finished eating, the clouds parted and it was sunny.
Since I hadn’t explicitly mentioned what time I had to leave in order to get ready for the birthday dinner I was attending, I postponed bringing it up. I figured I could afford another half hour with Derek if I opted to straighten my hair instead of curling it. It would be worth it. But eventually the time for enjoying each other’s company ran out, and I told him that, regrettably, I had to head home.
“I had a lot of fun today,” Derek said, as the cab turned onto the street of my apartment building.
I looked at him, unsure if he was being sincere or not.
His eyes shifted away from mine, his cheeks turning just the faintest shade of pink. “Aside from the accident I mean.”
“Well, I had made a couple kills—aside from the accident. At least I wasn’t a complete deadweight player.”
My heart fluttered when his hand gently squeezed mine.
“I think we make a good team,” he said.
I smiled, leaned over and pecked him on the edge of his mouth. “Thanks. I think so, too. And I had a lot of fun.”
“I wish we could hang out a little longer.”
“Sorry—I’d invite you up for a bit, but don’t have time. I’m already pushing it.”
He sighed dramatically, and then grinned. “Fine. But come here.”
He leaned forward and coaxed my face towards his. Our lips met in a long kiss that spoke of everything else we wished we could do at that moment. He ran his hand through my hair and rubbed the edge of my ear. My chest rose and fell in heavy beats, and all I could think of was how I wished we had just an extra hour, even if all we did was stand outside waiting for the next flash of rain shower to end. But I had to go.
The cab jerked to a stop in front of my building, causing our foreheads to bump. The cab driver uncomfortably announced our arrival by clearing his throat, and Derek and I pulled away from each other after a final, gentle kiss.
“Thanks for today,” I said to Derek, as I slid out of the cab. I addressed the driver. “How much to this point?”
Derek cut the man off before he could respond. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’ll cover it. My choices, my treat.”
“I’ll see you later?”
He smiled. “Of course.”
Reluctantly, I let the door of the cab close and waved at Derek’s face in the window as it drove away. I sighed. As much as I was looking forward to the party tonight, I really wished we had had more time. Maybe just sat down for a coffee, or even just five minutes where I could hold his hand. But I knew that was selfish thinking and I scolded myself for it. No one liked dating needy girls. And I suspected this was particularly true of men like Derek; men who lived away from home for long periods of time and had a track record of only being in casual relationships. Maybe Derek wasn’t quite like that though. I certainly didn’t have any evidence to support such assumptions.
I climbed the steps to the entrance of my building and, just as I crossed the threshold, I heard the light patter of rain thrum to life behind me. The weather seemed to be telling me to stop daydreaming and get into the shower before I made myself later than I already was.
Chapter 12
Between my work and Derek’s travel preparations, our schedules refused to match up. For the next couple days, we did nothing more than text each other. And have a single phone conversation.
I was lying in bed with a steaming cup of chamomile tea and the intent to make some serious headway in the book I was reading. But then Derek messaged me, and somehow the texts between us turned flirty and only continued to escalate. I hadn’t texted like this before. Or emailed. Or even spoke such things on the phone. What in the world was I doing? I decided I had to lock it down—feign exhaustion or a headache and go to bed early. It felt like my only options were that or to immediately head to his place and satisfy my desires that he teased with each word.
The clock on my phone had just turned 10:13 pm when, instead of the familiar buzz of a new message, my phone erupted into a full-fledged ring. I jumped and fumbled with the phone. It fell into a fold of my comforter. Derek’s name was next to the vibrating icon on the screen.
After a couple of deep, stabilizing breaths, I answered the call.
“Claire, Claire, Claire,” he said. “How can I sleep when you say such things?”
I struggled to find the right words. Any words.
He laughed, presumably at my lack of articulation. “You’re adorable,” he said.
I sighed into the microphone. “And you tease me too much.”
“I only repay the favor.” His grin came through as clearly as his words. I could almost hear him shrug too.
“So considerate,” I said, mockingly.
“Anyway,” his tone shifted from jest. “I just worked out my next few days. Are you free during the day on Wednesday? And perhaps Thursday?”
I nodded into the phone. “I think I can arrange for that.” If I played my cards right, I am the boss after all. I reached over to grab the day planner on my desk but paused. “You... leave soon, right?”
There was a short silence. “Yes. On Friday morning.”
“Right.” I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice.
“As a farewell date, I’ll make you dinner,” he bribed. “And then we can have dessert... of each other... in my bed. Breakfast can be whatever you want.”
I giggled, feeling myself blush.
“Interested?”
My mouth split into a wide smile. “Perhaps.”
On a typical day off, I’d sleep in. But on Wednesday, I was up, presentable by nine and out the door shortly after. Derek met me at the bottom of my building and took my hand in his. We took a cab downtown to a street performers festival that was on in full swing. I had seen an ad for a comedy show and Derek had gone ahead and ordered tickets. But it didn’t start for another hour and a half, so we killed some time wandering the nearby farmers’ market holding hands, our shoulders often touching as we sidestepped through crowds. We browsed through produces and artworks that we had no intention to buy, and sampled homemade dips and slices of sizzling sausages. At one point, I paused to admire a leather handbag, and Derek joked to the shop attendant that I already had six in that color. Then, someone selling kettle corn lured us in and Derek bought us a bag to split. The vendor offered us a stamp card, which I didn’t want but felt weird just tossing aside. After all, it was already in my hand. I had no pockets, so I dug into my purse, shoveled aside pens, receipts and tubes of lip-gloss. I finally located my wallet that was nestled in the corner, hiding under a package of tissue, and found a slot to shove the card.
“You dropped this,” Derek said.
“Oh my goodness!” I held my hands out and he placed the bracelet into my hands. “Thank you!”
“No problem.” We headed outside to find a bench to sit on and eat our kettle corn.
“No, really,” I said, still cradling it in my hands, running my fingers over the pearl beads and braided copper wire. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost it.”
“It’s pretty special, then?”
I nodded and held it out for him to see. “It was great grandmother’s, given to her by my grandfather in place of an engagement ring because he couldn’t afford one. She always said she liked it better than a ring, because if she ever took it off, the green around her wrist would always remain. It was given to me when my mother passed, but it’s broken...”
“Where?”
I handed the bracelet to him and pointed to the copper toggle-style clasp. “Somehow the bar that catches on this hoop broke. I’ve been meaning to fix it, but don’t know anyone who can make an accurate replacement.” I indicated the embossed floral design on the metal. “I keep it in my purse just in case, but can never find the right design...”
&nb
sp; Derek frowned as he examined it. “Yeah, I see what you mean. It has a Celtic feel.”
I looked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”
“You need to know a lot of things about a lot of things in my job.”
I smiled at him. “My mother suspected the same thing, actually.”
“Well, I hope you can get it fixed soon,” he said, returning it to me. “It sounds really precious to you.”
“It is,” I said with a sigh, carefully sliding it back into my purse. “It’s probably the most precious thing I own.” What would my mother think if I never got it fixed?
Derek kissed me and held out the bag of kettle corn. “You know, that’s the first time that you’ve mentioned something important regarding your family.”
“Yeah, well I guess since you told me all about your childhood, I thought you maybe didn’t want to hear about my family.”
“Yeah, well maybe I don’t think that anymore. How about you just say what’s on your mind, and let me worry about how I’m going to react to it?”
I laughed a little uncomfortably and took a handful. I felt a little scolded at, but I wasn’t angry with him for it. He was right.
We chatted while we ate and saw the sleepy morning blossom into a vibrant and sunny day. It almost felt like we were a real couple.
By the time the performance ended, it was early afternoon. Having snacked a fair bit earlier, we opted to go for coffee instead of a late lunch. Following the GPS on my phone, we walked into one of the top-ten coffee shops in the city. It sat on the edge of a square, bordered by quiet boutiques and patio restaurants. The square itself was currently being overhauled for a weekend music festival, bustling with people putting together a stage and hoisting blue and orange banners to the sky.
From the outside, the cafe looked sophisticated, but not pretentious. The front door was a sleek, bold burgundy, and the overhead sign was a large slab of carved wood. Peering through the floor-to-ceiling front windows, we could see a line snaking towards the register. But other than that, it didn’t look too crowded, and there were at least a couple of free tables.
