High Score

by Sally Apple

  She laughed. “I’ll have it framed, so I can hang it on my wall.”

  He glanced at the clock beside the bed, which read 10:20. “Damn! I don’t have time to fix breakfast after all. What say we hit the pancake house on our way? Their service is pretty speedy.”

  She hedged. “Better not. I need to get home.”

  His expression turned to one of alarm. “I don’t want this to be goodbye. Not yet.”

  “I don’t want to say goodbye either.” She looked into his eyes, trying to commit to memory the exact sexy blue shade of his irises.

  He reached up and gently stroked her cheek. “I’ve been thinking.”

  “What about?”

  “I hate it that you’re getting married, but if I banish you before I have to, I’ll only be hurting myself. I’ll regret it the rest of my days.”

  She blinked in surprise. Did his feelings go deeper than she had thought?

  Sighing, he dropped his hand. “I gotta go.” He climbed out of bed naked, walked over to open a drawer in his dresser, and started digging around. No self-consciousness in that Viking!

  He pulled on a pair of snug under shorts and donned a Bad Boys T-shirt. “I meant it when I said I was not willing to continue this…liaison after you marry what’s-his-face. But all’s fair in love and war, and since I’ve gone this far, I see no harm in trying my best to change your mind. Even if it takes me up to the last minute.”

  She found her voice. “You want to change my mind, because…?”

  “You shouldn’t marry someone unless he’s right for you, and Dickie is wrong, wrong, wrong.” He stepped into a pair of jeans and zipped up.

  The motion looked so sexy, Shelley couldn’t help but stare. Standing with his hands at his crotch, he looked good enough to eat.

  “That’s the only reason?” she asked. “You don’t want me to make a mistake?”

  “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to avert disaster. So, I think you’d better come back here tonight. You’re registered in Sex Techniques 102.”

  Lust. Is that all he feels? Is it all about making a sexual conquest?

  A twinge of disappointment brought her attention back to the issues between them. She’d come to him in the beginning as a way to satisfy her base desires—revenge and sex, and the adrenaline rush of danger. So what had changed? Why wasn’t she completely satisfied with that?

  “Advanced Sex Techniques, in case you’re interested.” He smiled and wagged his brows suggestively. “You came for the sex toys, and I haven’t introduced those yet.”

  “Except for the spanking chair.”

  “Yeah, okay. In your case, we’ll count that as a sex toy.” He came over and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.

  Just for a moment, she was tempted to pull him backward on the bed and jump on top of him. She sighed, wishing things could be different between them. Why did the best things in life always seem so fleeting? Trying to hang onto this moment would be like grabbing a handful of soap bubbles.

  It wasn’t difficult to understand why Thor might want her to stay single a while longer. That way, he could have her at his disposal until she married or he left town.

  He slipped his feet into his sneakers and tied the laces, then straightened to glance over his shoulder. “You lazy girl! Are you coming?”

  “No, I came already.” She smiled at her own joke.

  “Incorrigible.” He shook his head, wry amusement in his eyes. “Let’s go get some breakfast.”

  “No, I need to go home and change my clothes. I have a lot of chores to do today.”

  Lame excuses, but why should I ruin his mood with a dose of reality right now?

  In a few days, her relationship with him would be history, and she would never see him again. Yet, all he seemed to think about was living for the moment. The future went no further than the next romp in the sack. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy getting it on with him. Every cell in her body clamored for the kind of wild excitement he could dish out. It was just the frustrated little voice in the back of her mind insisting there had to be more. Some deep part of her felt thwarted, stymied, and disconsolate.

  She had to get away from the source of her pain. Climbing out of bed, she quickly gathered up her clothes and escaped into the bathroom to dress. When she came out, Thor was waiting by the front door with his motorcycle key in his hand.

  “You are planning to come back tonight, aren’t you?” A hopeful smile brightened his face.

  “I don’t know if I can tonight. I’m surprised you’re up for it. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  “Me?” He raised one eyebrow. “Up for sex?”

  “No pun intended.”

  “I’m up for anything.” He followed her out the door, then paused to lock it behind him. “How about meeting me at the shop before closing tonight? Say, around seven-thirty? That’ll give you enough time to pick out some of your favorite toys. My gift to you.”

  “Oh, you shouldn’t—”

  “Think of it as a graduation gift. You passed the course with honors. Now you have to pick up supplies for the next class.”

  “I see.” She headed for her car. “And you feel these, um, toys require instructions for use?” She glanced back over her shoulder and exchanged grins with him. Failing to block unchaste images from her mind, she began tingling all over at the thought.

  “Absolutely. I have in mind demonstrations and practice and drills. That’s what tutoring is all about.”

  She fumbled with the little remote control attached to her car keys. Somehow, she managed to get her car door unlocked.

  Thor, the perfect gentleman, opened the door for her. “Don’t forget now—7:30 tonight. Try to be punctual.”

  She hesitated. “I wish I could, but I have plans tonight.”

  Yeah, great plans. Dickie will go to his bachelor party and hump a hooker, while I stay home and do my nails. What’s wrong with this picture?

  Thor stared searchingly into her eyes. “All right, if you say so. But should you change your mind, I’ll be at the shop until eight.”

  * * * * *

  Once home, Shelley checked her answering machine. The caller ID told her Dickie had dialed her number. He’d left no message, only a click on the answering machine. And Rita had left a message only an hour before.

  “Hi Shelley!” Rita’s recorded voice sounded cheerful. “Want to go to a movie or something? Skeeter’s kicking me out of the house this afternoon. Says women aren’t allowed at the bachelor party. Give me a call when you get in.”

  Shelley snarled, remembering that Skeeter’s plan called for at least one woman to attend—a hired call girl. She had slunk home from Thor’s house feeling guilty, but the reminder of Dickie’s betrayal salved her conscience.

  A hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach sent her to the kitchen in search of something to eat. It was getting harder to live with herself. When she was in Thor’s presence, she was usually at the mercy of her passion. But this morning, a crisis of conscience had struck as she prepared to leave his house. No, it was more than shame or guilt that had made her take a closer look at what she was doing to herself. The realization that her feelings for Thor were taking root had raised the stakes of this little intrigue to a dangerous level.

  She used to be blissfully stupid, but now she was miserably aware of pitfalls in life she’d never known existed. People were not who they seemed. Dickie had turned out to be a liar and a rat, Skeeter a manipulator, and Rita, for all her good intentions, a misguided patsy. Thor, well, he was the one person who was at least honest about what he wanted, salacious as it was.

  As for herself, she was floundering, disoriented and confused. She felt paralyzed, unable to go back, yet full of doubts about the future.

  Maybe waffles with blueberry compote and whipped cream on top would help her pull herself together. She had some hard thinking to do.

  Following a decadent breakfast, Shelley returned Rita’s call. The mome
nt Skeeter picked up the phone, she plummeted from an intoxicating sugar high to a low-level churlishness usually reserved for PMS.

  “Is Rita there?” she asked coldly, pretending she didn’t know anyone named Skeeter.

  “Uh, yeah. I’ll get her.”

  After a moment, Rita came to the phone. “Shelley? Where have you been? You just get back from a hot date?” Her laughter turned it into a joke, and Skeeter guffawed in the background.

  “You got it.” She grinned sheepishly, imagining what Rita would say if she found out Thor had used a big knife to cut her panties off her.

  “So,” Rita said, still chuckling. “You want to go to the matinee?”

  “Depends on what’s playing.”

  “You said you wanted to see George Clooney in his latest movie. If you’d rather, we can always go shopping.”

  “No, the movie sounds great!”

  “Good. I’ll pick you up in a half-hour. It’s my turn to drive.”

  After she disconnected, Shelley went to take a quick shower and to dress in slacks and a sweater. Would she be able to keep a secret from Rita? What did it matter if her friend told Skeeter and he told Dickie? Women of the new millennium had the right to do whatever men got away with. If Dickie found out what she’d done and had the nerve to censure her with so much as one word, she’d show him double standards—the hard way.

  * * * * *

  Thor sat behind the counter at High Score, munching another of the doughnuts that passed for a late breakfast. Considering the time, he should amend that to early lunch.

  The store was quiet, devoid of customers. He heaved a disgusted sigh. Not a soul had entered the door since he’d opened over an hour before. He could have spent more time with Shelley and not worried about anyone missing him. He could have stayed and finished talking things out with her.

  Why are you here? he’d asked her. And she’d told him a mixed-up story about betrayal, revenge, and a wicked desire to play with sex toys. She had been confused and couldn’t seem to give him a straight answer.

  Thor shook his head, feeling vexed. She obviously didn’t know her own mind.

  You’re not offended that I’m just after your body? she’d asked.

  He’d said no, but a part of him had felt disappointed. Not that he expected a woman like her to fall for him at first sight. Heaven knew he wasn’t looking for a deep relationship right now. In fact, it couldn’t come at a worse time. On the other hand, only a fool would let a woman like Shelley slip through his fingers because the timing wasn’t right.

  He needed at least several weeks to win her over. Better yet, months. What hope did he have of making a play for her, when she had a wedding scheduled a week away? It was ridiculous!

  The craziest part was the way she failed to recognize the magnitude of the mistake she was about to make. No way could this Dickie character be the right partner for her. How could she not know that?

  Maybe she did know it—especially now that he, Thor, had given her something with which to compare. He ran his fingers through his hair, then suddenly gripped two clumps tightly, and fought the urge to rip them out by the roots. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so frustrated.

  Take a deep breath and think!

  If he had the time, he would work out a strategy, something to lure her away from that bozo. Something to show her the gross error she would make in marrying the guy. She deserved so much more.

  What would it take, he wondered, to open her eyes to the truth? He could tell her she was about to make the greatest misjudgment of her life, but in his experience people didn’t accept criticism like that readily. They needed a demonstration. They needed to think the realization had occurred to them naturally.

  Somehow, he needed to show her he understood her needs, he knew how to give as well as take, and he would be there for her. Given time, he could win her over, he was sure, if he did nothing more than continue to show her how good sex could be.

  Someone had once said time is the robber of the best earth has to give. Never had that idea hit home with such an impact.

  The phone rang, jarring the solitude inside the shop. Thor answered on the second ring, grateful for a respite from his harried thoughts.

  It was Joe. “Hey, Thor! I don’t want to keep you from your customers—I just have a quick question for you.”

  Thor glanced around, wishing he had some customers. “No problem. What do you need?”

  “Do you mind if I come in this evening and take inventory? I’d like to know what I would be getting with the store before we nail down a value.”

  “I don’t mind if you do that, but not tonight, okay? How about tomorrow? On Sunday, no one will bother us.”

  “I would, but Dot made plans for us tomorrow. She’ll freak if I make other arrangements.”

  Thor stifled his impatience. “That’s fine. But let’s make it some evening next week, okay?”

  “You’ve got a date! I should have known you wouldn’t be around on a Saturday night.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Well, I’ll have a word with Dot. Maybe I can get free Sunday afternoon for a while.”

  “That would work better for me.”

  “So, you’re going out tonight,” Joe mused. “The Boys told me she’s a real looker. You getting serious about her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Come on, Cuz. This is me. The Boys said you got it bad. Is that true?”

  Thor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, Joe, I got it bad. Now are you happy?”

  * * * * *

  Rita peered over her shoulder as she backed her blue Honda Civic out of Shelley’s driveway. “The movie is showing around two. You want to grab lunch first?”

  “You haven’t eaten?” After the rich blueberry waffle she’d indulged in, Shelley wasn’t sure she’d be hungry again for days. Probably a good thing, since the waffle had undoubtedly gone straight to her hips.

  Rita straightened out her car, shifted into drive, and headed down the street. “It’s lunchtime! And we always eat out. It’s our favorite pastime.”

  “All right.” Shelley sighed. “That will give me a chance to talk to you about something, and it won’t be easy.”

  “Really? What?”

  “You’re going to kill me.”

  “Uh-oh.” Rita said. “Sounds serious. That calls for pasta. Lots of it. I’m heading for Tino’s.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  As Rita drove, she flicked a sidewise glance in Shelley’s direction. “Well? Start talking.”

  “Wait ‘til we get there,” Shelley stalled. “Then I’m going to ask your advice about something.”

  “Okay.”

  At Tino’s, a young waiter seated them and took their orders before departing.

  “You’re only having wine?” Rita asked.

  “Yep.” Shelley heaved a sigh. How to begin?

  “If I’m going to kill you,” Rita said, “it might be for keeping me in suspense.”

  Shelley glanced around to make sure she wouldn’t be overheard. “I’m feeling so confused right now.”

  “Pre-wedding jitters?”

  “It’s more than that.” Shelley let the silence drag out as she searched for words.

  The waiter appeared with two wineglasses, which he set before them. After he left, Shelley took a gulp of wine, which led to a coughing fit.

  “I don’t want to pressure you, but if you don’t get to the point,” Rita threatened, “I’m going to stab you with this breadstick!”

  “Okay, okay.” Shelley’s voice squeaked. She cleared her throat. “What would you say if I told you I was thinking about breaking my engagement to Dickie?”

  Rita stared at her. “You can’t! The wedding is next weekend!”

  “I know.”

  “You already bought me a matron of honor dress and it’s gorgeous and if I don’t get to wear it I’ll jump off a bridge onto the freeway during rush hour.”

 
Shelley felt as though her insides were on fire. Drinking wine when she was stressed out wasn’t smart. “Everyone will be pissed at me, not just you, I realize that. But getting married is important. It’s my life we’re talking about here. I don’t want to screw it up.”

  “All because Skeeter hired a hooker for the party? Shelley, she doesn’t mean anything to Dickie.”

  “So? Do you know anything about her? Have you seen her?”

  “No, but she’s expensive. I assume that means she’s top-of-the-line.”

  “Shit!” For a moment, Shelley wasn’t positive the wine she drank would stay down. “She’ll know all the right moves, I bet. Dickie will spend the rest of his life comparing her to any woman he marries.”

  “No, he won’t, Shelley. Come on! He loves you.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “He does! One thing I’ve learned being married for a while, men are different. They can screw anything in a skirt and not give their hearts away. They can have intercourse without engaging their emotions at all.”

  “That says a lot for them, doesn’t it?”

  “Face reality, kiddo.”

  “I didn’t think Dickie was like that,” Shelley said. “I guess I was wrong. Not only did he agree to Skeeter’s ridiculous plan, the bum lied to me about it.”

  “What do you expect? I can’t imagine any man admitting something like that to his girlfriend.”

  Shelley gave her friend a severe look. “I’m going to overlook, for the moment, the fact you’re sticking up for him. After all, you’re under the influence of the man who invented double standards.”

  Rita stuck her lower lip out defensively. “Dickie didn’t have to go along with it if he didn’t want to!”

  “I’m not arguing that. I’m just saying Skeeter could use a lesson in friendship. If he was trying his best to break us up, he couldn’t do a better job.”

  “Dickie’s the one who confided in Skeeter about feeling inadequate and asked for his advice.”

  “He said that? He said he felt inadequate?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Words to that effect. He was definitely nervous, and Skeeter offered to help. He promised to host the best bachelor party this town has ever seen.”

  Shelley snorted. “Yeah, Skeeter deserves the Host-of-the-Year Award. I suppose he’s giving up his own bed for Dickie and the hooker?”