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Summer Fling

Page 5

by Jerica MacMillan


  “They don’t?” His voice was all innocence.

  “No. The only time a guy has paid for my stuff is when we’ve been on a date.” It was her turn to use the patient, instructional tone.

  He didn’t take the bait. “Really? Hmm.”

  She didn’t like his noncommittal response, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “This wasn’t a date, Lance.”

  He just shrugged, like he wasn’t at all bothered by her statement but like he didn’t necessarily agree with her either. “If you say so.” She opened her mouth to respond to this obvious bit of placating agreement, but before she could say anything, he asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Abby blinked at the sudden change of subject, feeling off balance. And she couldn’t think up a quick response to get out of making plans with him tomorrow. “Um, I think Megan and I have plans.” Her stammering start made it clear that she was lying.

  Lance glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he maneuvered the car out of the mall parking lot, clearly not buying it. “You think so, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah.” She tried to keep it going. Even if he didn’t believe her, maybe he’d just accept it anyway and let it go? Did she really want that, though? He was nicer than she expected from a guy like him. A hot guy. Obviously popular. A football player. What was he doing with boring old her? She didn’t party or go to football games. She liked movies and books and quiet nights with friends. It was flattering for him to pay attention to her, but she couldn’t see it going anywhere.

  But he didn’t let it go. “So, you’re not just trying to avoid making plans with me?”

  Abby sighed, not sure if she was thrilled or annoyed that he called her out on her lie. “Maybe,” she relented. “What did you have in mind?”

  “What about your plans with Megan?” That teasing note was back in his voice.

  The smile that was never far away when he was around crept back onto her face. “Fine, Megan will probably have a hangover from another party tonight. My plans are to hang out and read, maybe do some laundry. It’s pretty exciting stuff.” Might as well be upfront about what she’s really like.

  Lance laughed. “You can just tell me you don’t want to see me tomorrow.” He stopped at a red light and faced her. “I can take no for an answer.”

  She snickered at that obviously false statement. “Are you sure about that? Because from what I can tell, every time I’ve told you no, you’ve railroaded me and done whatever you decided.”

  “What are you talking about?” He sounded genuinely surprised by her assertion.

  With sarcasm as thick as she could lay it on, Abby said, “Hmm, let’s reminisce, shall we?” She held up a finger. “I asked you to take me home so I could change into my own shirt before going out for pie with you and you wouldn’t do it.” Another finger. “I told you I’d rather meet you somewhere and you said that you would pick me up.” A third finger. “I told you I could pay for my shirt, and you gave the lady your card before I could get mine out.” A fourth finger. “I told you I’d pay for my movie ticket and snacks and you paid for them without even acknowledging that I’d said anything. You insist on your way no matter what I say.”

  Lance grabbed the fingers she was wiggling near his face, holding her hand while he spoke. “You only actually said the word no one of those times. That’s not enough evidence that I can’t take no for an answer.” Abby huffed an astonished laugh, then closed her mouth so she could glare at him better, trying and failing to wriggle her fingers out of his grip. “Besides,” he continued, completely ignoring her silent protests, “I’m a businessman. It’s a positive trait that I can’t take no for an answer.”

  Abby managed to get her hand free when he was distracted by driving after the light changed and pointed at him in triumph. “Ha! So you admit it.”

  “I admit nothing.”

  Abby sat back in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest, looking him over with narrowed eyes. “You sure you’re not planning on becoming a lawyer?”

  Lance smirked and shook his head. “If I railroad you regardless, why even bother to make up fake plans? According to you I’d just change them for you anyway.”

  “Hope springs eternal.” She kept her voice as dry as a desert.

  Lance pulled into the parking lot for her apartment complex and found a spot, the amusement gone from his face when he looked at her again. “So you need to do laundry tomorrow. How long does that take?”

  Abby shrugged. “A few hours. We have our own machines, so I don’t have to use a laundry room or anything.”

  “Do you want some company?”

  “Uh, no.” She shook her head emphatically. This was not something he’d be able to change her mind about. “I told you Megan’s going to have a hangover. You don’t want to be at our apartment when she’s like that.”

  Surprisingly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it. So, you’ll probably do it in the evening I’m guessing?”

  “Maybe.” Abby stretched the word out, not sure where he was going with this line of questioning. “Why?”

  “So you’re free for lunch?”

  “Uh …” Once again her usual quick thinking deserted her. Or maybe she didn’t actually want to make up a reason not to have lunch with him. “I guess so.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  Abby shook her head. “That’s not the way this works. If you want me to go out with you, then you need to ask me, not tell me.” She actually was excited—nervous, but not as much as she would normally be since she’d already spent time with him—about the prospect of going out with him on a date. A proper one. Not whatever their last two hang out sessions could be categorized as. It’d been months since her last date, and that guy had been boring. At least with Lance she knew she wouldn’t be bored. But she wanted him to ask for real. That way there’d be no doubt about what was going on.

  Lance unbuckled his seatbelt and turned his body to face Abby. He leaned toward her, nearly invading her personal space. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Abby, would you please have lunch with me tomorrow?”

  Abby swallowed and licked her lips, unsteady under the full force of his attention. “Okay.”

  Lance’s gaze dropped to her mouth. He leaned forward an inch, and Abby leaned back the same amount. His hand landed on her knee, then slid up her leg to mid thigh. “I’d like to kiss you now, Abby.” His voice was low and raspy.

  She swallowed again. “Okay.” It came out as a breathy whisper. And then his mouth was on hers, almost before she could think. His lips were soft, softer than she’d expected. His hand slid higher, all the way to her hip then around her back, pulling her closer to him. Breaking the kiss, he stared at her for a breath before kissing her again, more firmly. His other hand came up to cup her face. He angled his head and slid his tongue into her mouth. Abby tentatively slid her tongue against his, and he deepened the kiss further.

  When they broke apart, Abby’s heart pounded and her breath came in quick pants. “Um, I think I better go.”

  Lance nodded and got out of the car, taking her hand as he walked her to her apartment. At her door, he turned to her and kissed her again and rested his forehead against hers for a moment before speaking. “This was a date, Abby. Tomorrow is too. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

  Abby just nodded, not trusting her voice. She unlocked her door and cleared her throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Who’s the hottie dropping you off?”

  Abby jumped as she closed the door, startled by Megan’s voice. “God, Megan! Don’t scare me like that!” Abby surveyed Megan sitting on the couch in her robe with her hair wrapped in a towel. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

  Megan adjusted her robe and tucked her legs underneath her. “I just got out of the shower a few minutes ago. Isaac’s not picking me up for another hour.” She narrowed her
brown eyes at Abby. “Don’t dodge the question. Who’s the hottie?”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “I’m not dodging anything. That was Lance.” Abby flopped down on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and pulling a throw pillow into her lap.

  Megan crossed her arms and stared Abby down. “And how do we know Lance?”

  “I met Lance at the party last night. Why? Do you know him?”

  Megan shook her head, glancing at the closed door like she might still see him through it. “No. He looks familiar, though.”

  “Maybe you’ve seen him in the business building? He said he was a marketing major.”

  “Was a marketing major?” Trust Megan to pick up on verb tenses. It must come from working as a tutor during the school year.

  “Yeah, he just graduated.”

  Megan frowned in concentration, her gaze abstracted. “Maybe. What else do you know about him?”

  “Umm, he’s working as a marketing intern over the summer and then he’s going back to Texas in the fall.”

  “Hmm … anything else?”

  Abby closed her eyes and thought back over their conversations. “Uh, he doesn’t know how to do laundry?” Megan’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t interrupt and Abby kept talking. “Oh, he said he had a football scholarship, so obviously he played football.”

  “He’s from Texas, he just graduated, and he played football.” Megan paused, scrunching her face while she thought. Then her face cleared, and her eyes gleamed with excitement. “Oh my god! Do you mean Lance Kane?”

  “Uh, maybe? He didn’t tell me his last name.”

  “You’re kissing some guy on our doorstep, and you don’t even know his last name?”

  “Like you’re one to talk. I walked in on you and Isaac doing more than that last week.” It was Abby’s turn to narrow her eyes. “Were you spying on me or something?”

  Megan shrugged. “I heard something outside so I glanced out my window. You were kissing. So, was that your first kiss? How was it? Is he as good a kisser as the rumors say?”

  Abby threw the pillow in her lap at Megan. “Really? I have to tell you the details?”

  Megan threw the pillow back. “Yes, you do. It’s only fair. I tell you all about my exploits.”

  “But I don’t ever ask. You just volunteer that information.”

  Megan made a dismissive noise in her throat. “Whatever. You know you want to know, even if you won’t admit it. So, c’mon! Fill me in.”

  “Fine. Our first kiss was in the car. The one you saw was the second kiss. Or maybe the third. I think technically he kissed me twice in the car.”

  “Oooh, a parking lot make out session. Was there tongue?” Megan wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Well, you could hardly call it making out if there weren’t any tongue, could you?”

  Megan cackled in delight. “I’m going to take that as a yes. So, how was it?”

  Abby smiled. Megan butted in before Abby could actually answer. “That good, huh?”

  Abby laughed. “Yeah, that good.”

  “As good as the rumors?”

  Abby shook her head, a little flustered by Megan bringing up rumors about his kissing prowess. “I haven’t heard the rumors. There are rumors about him?” She really shouldn’t be surprised. He was too smooth not to have a trail of broken hearts in his wake. And he’d pretty much admitted that girls usually flirted with him a lot more than she did. Did she really want to get involved with a guy like this? One with a reputation? Rumors?

  “Oh, yeah.” Megan’s face turned serious. “There are lots of rumors about that guy. He’s a serial dater. He takes girls out, but rarely the same girl twice, and never more than that.”

  Abby frowned, now even more hesitant about her lunch plans with him tomorrow. “That makes him sound like a jerk.”

  Megan shrugged and shook her head, seemingly unbothered. “No, no one seems to think he’s a jerk. He just doesn’t do relationships. But he’s supposed to be a great kisser and really good in bed. So, you’ve found out about the first rumor. Any plans on finding out if there’s truth to the second?” Her voice turned giddy with anticipation. Like Megan really wanted her to go a round with the resident manwhore.

  Abby whacked Megan with the pillow again, her face heating. “No. But I’m sure you’ll pry it out of me if I change my mind.”

  Megan’s eyes widened. She really did want Abby to throw herself at the guy. “No? Why not?”

  Abby settled back in her seat, giving her friend a look like she should know the answer to that question already. “You know I’m not like that, Megan. I don’t do casual sex.”

  With a flip of her hand, Megan dismissed that. “Maybe you should give it a try. It might do you some good—help you loosen up.”

  Abby just shook her head. “Anyway, if what you say is true, we’ll find out one way or another tomorrow.”

  “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

  “He’s taking me out on a lunch date.”

  “A lunch date?” Megan couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “That’s not very sexy. Why a lunch date?” She said lunch date like it was equivalent to inviting her to watch him get a root canal.

  “I told him I was busy in the evening, so he settled for lunch.” She didn’t see what the big deal was.

  “What?!” Megan turned to face Abby and took a few deep breaths with her eyes closed to calm herself down. Abby rolled her eyes at Megan’s theatrics. “Abby.” Another deep breath, and she opened her eyes. “Abby, when a hot guy asks you out, why on earth would you say you’re busy? Especially since it’s apparently a second date. A second date that this particular hot guy doesn’t do very often.”

  Abby sat forward, feeling the need to defend herself. “Okay, for one thing I didn’t know that about the second date thing or even that there were rumors about this guy. For another, he’s already monopolized today and last night, so I wasn’t sure if I wanted him taking up tomorrow night, too.” And after hearing this, I’m even less sure about seeing him tomorrow at all.

  Megan sat back on the couch, resting her head against the back. “Hold on.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even eight. And you’re getting home from a date? Is he the one you were meeting earlier when you said you were hanging out with a friend?”

  Abby nodded. “Yeah, I was meeting him. Well, he wouldn’t let me meet him somewhere. He picked me up.” She still sounded disgruntled about that, even to her own ears. Because she was. What kind of guy just bossed around the girl he wanted to date like that? Especially without telling her in advance that it was a date? Was she supposed to guess that from their text exchange?

  Megan looked at her like she’d grown another head or maybe a third arm. “Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t you let him pick you up for a date? And you went out with him wearing that?” The last question dripped with horror.

  “I just put on clean clothes.” Abby’s voice rose, growing more defensive. Besides, Lance didn’t seem to mind her choice of clothes. “I didn’t know it was a date when he picked me up.”

  “What? How could you not know that?”

  Abby threw her hands in the air. “He texted me this afternoon and said he had bad news that he wanted to tell me in person. I told him I’d meet him somewhere, and he insisted on picking me up.”

  “What bad news?” Megan leaned closer, clearly intrigued, but her brows wrinkled like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

  “That he’d ruined my new light pink tank top.”

  “He ruined your new tank top?” Megan’s eyebrows jumped up her forehead. “Why? How?”

  With a sigh, Abby resigned herself to the fact that she’d have to explain everything to Megan in detail. As quickly as she could, she explained what happened. “He washed it with his clothes and a new shirt bled in the laundry, turning it a weird color, he set in the stain, and shrunk it about three sizes.”

  “He ruined your shirt in the laundry.”

  “Yes.” How was that un
clear?

  “Abby.”

  “Megan.” She tried to keep a straight face, because this was getting ridiculous.

  “Why was he washing your shirt?” Megan managed to maintain her even tone, but Abby could tell it was a struggle.

  “Because it was stained, and he was trying to get it out.” Didn’t she already say that?

  “Okaaay. Why did he have your stained shirt?” Exasperation crept into Megan’s voice.

  “I left it at his house last night.”

  Megan put up one hand as though to stop Abby and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other, her eyes closed again. After a moment she dropped her hand and looked at Abby. “Abby, you just told me that the first time you kissed Lance was this evening. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Then what the hell were you doing at his house last night taking off your clothes?”

  Waving a hand in the air, Abby scoffed at Megan’s suggestion. “It’s nothing dirty, Megan. I bumped into him last night at the party and spilled my Jack and Coke all over both of us. I was soaked and sticky and ready to leave, and he offered me a ride home.”

  Megan’s head snapped up. “He was the friend that you caught a ride with last night?”

  Abby nodded.

  “Did you know him before last night?”

  “No.”

  “But you agreed to let him take you home.” Her flat tone made it clear she thought that was a dumb choice.

  “Yeah.” Abby shrugged, leaning back and crossing her arms. “He seemed harmless enough, and he wasn’t drunk.”

  “Okay, fine.” Megan sighed and gave Abby a pointed look. “We’ll revisit that later. How did you end up at his house?”

  Abby filled her in on Lance stopping at his house and offering her a clean shirt so they could go have pie without stopping by their apartment. “I accidentally left my shirt at his house, and he decided to wash it for me. But he ruined it, so today he took me to buy a new shirt to replace the one he destroyed.”

  Megan stared at the ceiling while she processed this. “This is so weird.”

 

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