Breezy

by Kelsie Rae

  I catch Derrick watching our interaction with an amused expression, and I’m so relieved. I was worried my relationship with Jude would stress him out, considering our fake dating debacle, but it looks like Derrick is cool with us remaining friends. I think he secretly always knew there was nothing going on between us and is happy we came out of the proverbial closet.

  After turning my full attention to Derrick, he nods his head toward the TV screen once more, causing a sense of deja vu all over again. But this time, I’m ready.

  I squeeze the steering wheel between my fingers, my foot already hovering over the gas pedal. The light turns green, and I slam my shoe down, shooting me forward. I fly past the starting line, slowly releasing the pressure as I make my way around the first curve only to see Derrick’s tail lights disappear around the corner in front of me.

  Dammit. That guy knows how to drive!

  I try to stay focused and turn my wheel to the left before increasing pressure on the gas. I gain some momentum before twisting my steering wheel to the right, leaning into the curve and squeezing between two other racers, cutting one off in the process.

  I’m pretty sure I see someone flip me off out of the corner of my eye, causing me to laugh triumphantly.

  The laps seem to fly by, but I’m always on Derrick’s tail, growing more frustrated by the minute. I know I only have to buy pizza if I lose, which is a ridiculously lame bet by the way, but I really want to hear his singing skills!

  I bet he sounds like a dying hyena.

  Derrick cuts me off on the ninth lap. I hit my hand against the steering wheel in frustration, my knuckles turning white as I grip the rubber tightly. The guy is totally toying with me, if his boyish grin is any indication.

  Ignoring him, I silently acknowledge that he is, indeed, the better driver. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him win this race. I sharpen my focus on the last curve before the straight shot across the finish line.

  Jude happens to be in the same place as Derrick right now, although I’m pretty sure he’s only on his sixth lap. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve passed the guy. He’s driving so slowly, you’d think he was on the Pacific Coast Highway, simply taking in the scenery.

  That being said, I decide to take advantage of the opportunity that presents itself. I notice that if Jude turns a second earlier than necessary on the last turn then he’ll hit Derrick from behind, making him my own personal pinball.

  I slam my foot against the pedal, gaining speed and recklessly cutting off Jude, which causes him to knock into the back corner of Derrick’s go-kart. This minor bump makes Derrick spin out, awkwardly pinning him against the barrier. I wave in his direction as I fly by, rushing toward the finish line. I’m absolutely stunned my idea actually worked.

  I won!

  After parking my go-kart, I unbuckle my seat belt and jump out. Because Derrick had been pinned and needed help from the employees to get him going again, he’s just barely making his way toward me. As soon as I see his icy blue eyes through his mask, I begin my victory dance, not caring if anyone else is watching.

  He parks his kart as I continue my ridiculous dance, gaining attention from the people around us. I’m pretty sure I see someone pull out their cell to record the damn thing.

  Derrick rips his helmet off, jumps out of the cart, and rushes me. He throws me over his shoulder and heads to the exit, his long legs carrying us faster than the go-karts we were just driving.

  I’m out of breath from laughing so hard at his totally barbarian movements.

  Hitting his butt from my upside down position, I yell in protest. “What the hell are you doing? Put me down right now!”

  He playfully smacks my ass while making his way outside. “Nope. No deal. You cheated!”

  Laughing hysterically, I try to argue. “No I didn’t! The only rule we had was whoever crosses the finish line first, wins. And I won, you big butthead! Now put me down! We are not leaving until you start singing like a songbird, my friend!”

  I find Jude out of the corner of my eye, laughing at our comical position.

  “Jude! Tell Derrick to put me down! We can’t leave yet! He has to hold up his end of the deal!”

  “She’s right, wanker,” he states, coming to my rescue.

  I can feel Derrick shake his head back and forth as he continues his long strides. “I’ll buy pizza,” he suggests, naively thinking I’ll make it easy on him.

  Silly man.

  “No!” I screech, slapping his firm butt again.

  Damn I have a nice view from this angle.

  “Derrick FREAKING McKinley! Put me down right now, or you will seriously regret it!”

  He just chuckles in response, completely underestimating who he’s dealing with.

  Poor guy is about to regret that.

  Impulsively, I grab his black boxer briefs that are peeking from under his dark jeans and yank up with all my might.

  Derrick practically jumps a foot in the air before nearly dropping me on my head. He catches me at the last second, placing me on my feet before crushing me against his chest, pinning my arms to my sides.

  My ear is pressed against his broad chest as it bounces up and down while he’s trying to catch his breath and contain his laughter all at once.

  “Did you just give me a wedgie?!” he booms.

  I grimace, mentally slapping impulsive Breezy on the back of the head for her immature behavior.

  “You really are a freaking hurricane,” he mutters under his breath, but I can hear the smile in his baritone voice.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, shrinking against Derrick’s torso and silently praying he will swallow me whole so I won’t have to be in this position.

  I cannot believe I gave my boss, and crush, a freaking wedgie!

  My face is burning from embarrassment, and I refuse to leave the confines of his arms until someone else does something even more stupid than what I just did. And because that doesn’t look likely, I’m going to continue sticking my head in the proverbial sand, pretending like I’m not here.

  Derrick’s arms loosen slightly, and he leans back in hopes of looking at my cherry red face. I burrow deeper into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heart grounding me the longer I listen.

  “Breezy, baby, it’s OK. Look at me.” His voice is like soft velvet against my ears, which is ironic because it usually sounds like he gargled broken glass.

  I shake my head back and forth, refusing to look up at him.

  Maybe in the next century, buddy.

  His warm chuckle washes over me, somehow giving me the courage to peek up into his crystal clear irises. I scrunch up my face, anxiously waiting to be reprimanded like a small child. Only to find him gazing at me affectionately with the softest of smiles.

  There’s not an an ounce of anger or annoyance on his stupidly gorgeous face.

  If anything, there’s awe.

  I’m puzzled. My brows pinch together in confusion.

  Any other guy would’ve been pissed at me. And with good reason, too. Wedgies are not fun. Instead, he’s looking at me like I hung the moon.

  “You’re not pissed?” I ask, needing some clarification.

  His soft smile turns into a full-on grin. “And why would I be pissed?”

  “Um… because I kinda cheated then proceeded to give you a wedgie?” I grimace.

  He quirks one brow. “So you admit you cheated?”

  I roll my eyes. “I admit to nothing. I’m just saying….” I let my words die off.

  He chuckles softly, still firmly holding me in his embrace. His gaze bounces between my mouth and my eyes as they seem to battle for his attention.

  For once, I hold my tongue and wait for him to say something. Anything. I’m dying to know what he’s thinking right now and praying that it has something to do with his lips touching mine.

  After a few seconds, he reluctantly lets me go and turns back toward the entrance of the building, heading back inside while grumbling under hi
s breath.

  “Let’s get this stupid song over with and get some pizza. I’m starving!” He stomps to the sliding door, Jude and I following behind.

  “Is he really gonna do it?” I wonder out loud, absolutely shocked.

  “Apparently, pretty little ladies know how to make the gentleman do reckless things,” Jude says conversationally. His hands are tucked into his front pockets and his wavy dark hair is slicked back from running his fingers through it.

  We make our way toward the entrance slowly, quietly discussing how we’re going to get the receptionist away from the microphone long enough for Derrick to get his singing on.

  However, there’s no need for any conspiracy. As soon as the sliding glass doors open, I’m greeted with Derrick’s gritty voice echoing through the large room causing chills to erupt down my spine.

  The guy can sing, too?

  I’m seriously screwed.

  Somehow he’s managed to convince the receptionist to let him to sing the national anthem to a bunch of drivers before their race begins. Their hands are over their hearts and everything!

  How Derrick was able to organize this in the five minutes it took Jude and me to follow him back inside, I will never know.

  But am I secretly impressed by his ass-kissing skills?

  Why yes. Yes, I am.

  I’m focused solely on the gorgeous male specimen in front of me, taking in his casual demeanor. His elbows are resting on the receptionist’s desk as he leans his massive frame over the small workspace, and he’s belting out the lyrics like an American Idol contestant.

  He had changed into a white t-shirt and dark denim jeans after his shower earlier. Both of them fit him like a glove, showcasing his tall, muscular body.

  After not-so-subtly checking him out, I discreetly check for drool while maintaining eye contact with the guy in front of me who’s stolen all logic from my thoughts.

  I watch in awe as he finishes dramatically. “And the home... of the... brave!”

  Cheering ensues as he holds out the last note, his gravelly voice wrapping around everyone like a thick blanket.

  As soon as he’s finished, Derrick pushes off the reception desk with his hands and stands up to his full height, casually walking over to us, the crowd’s applause still echoing throughout the room. He wraps his arm around my neck affectionately and turns me back toward the sliding door and his car.

  “You can sing?” I ask, my jaw still hanging open in shock.

  “I can. I just don’t,” he answers gruffly.

  “Why the hell not? You’re incredible!” I gush, my inner girl swooning.

  “Because I’ve never been one who likes to be the center of attention.”

  “So why’d you do it today?”

  “Because I lost a bet to a girl who cheated,” he answers, his tone light and playful.

  “So you won’t sing for me again?” I probe, dying to hear his melodic voice on repeat for the foreseeable future.

  “Not gonna happen,” Derrick replies honestly before changing the subject. “Pizza anyone?”

  He acts like he didn’t just belt out the national anthem to a room full of strangers, and I decide then and there that I need to see him in action on karaoke night.

  It’s a must.

  I just gotta figure out how.

  After making a mental note, I give the guy the break that he’s desperately reaching for and let him change the subject.

  “Only if it’s meat lover’s,” I reply conversationally.

  “Really? I would’ve had you pegged for a veggie kind of girl,” Derrick states.

  “Nope! I’m all about the meat! Pepperoni, canadian bacon, sausage. I’m a total sucker for sausage!” I physically slap my hand over my mouth as soon as the words roll off my tongue, my cheeks burning like the fiery pits of hell.

  Are you freaking kidding me?

  If the earth wanted to swallow me whole in this particular moment, I’d welcome it. Anything to get me out of this situation.

  Jude is cackling in the background from my foot-in-mouth moment, while Derrick throws his head back in laughter. “Now why does that not surprise me?” he jokes. “But I’m going to have to report that to HR.”

  Shoving him playfully, I wait for him to unlock the door, and I slip inside, taking a seat on the plush leather.

  “Whatever. Nothing wrong with enjoying sausage,” I grin. “But seriously, I’m starving. What are we ordering, and can we pick it up on the way? Oh! and can we get cheesy bread? I’m a sucker for cheesy bread, too! And maybe some dessert pizza? You know? With the cinnamon and icing drizzled on top? Mmm… ” I practically moan. “That sounds freaking amazing right now!”

  “Someone’s hungry,” Jude adds. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to accompany you two this evening. I have a date,” he announces.

  “But what about pizza? That sounds so good! And you’re my ride!”

  “I can drop you off after pizza if you want?” Derrick interjects, my head swiveling in his direction.

  “But that sounds like a date, and you don’t do dates. Remember? Let me rephrase, you don’t do dates with employees… And we hung out last night, so that would be kind of like two dates. And we work together, and you have that stupid rule, and… ”

  “Hold up,” Derrick says, interrupting my rambling. He places his right hand in the air as if to physically stop my verbal assault. “It’s just pizza, Breezy.”

  The use of my nickname causes my insides to immediately melt, along with my rebuttal.

  “Just pizza,” I reiterate, holding his gaze from the passenger seat.

  “My arse,” Jude mumbles to no one in particular.

  15

  Derrick

  We head back to my townhome after picking up one large meat lover’s pizza, one dessert pizza, and a side of cheesy bread.

  We say goodbye to Jude, who jumps in his SUV and drives off to meet up with his date for the night, leaving Bree and me very much alone.

  I’m a little hesitant to walk her into my home. I know I said it was just pizza, but it doesn’t really feel that way.

  Last night was different. I showed up unannounced in hopes of catching her in a lie. I had ulterior motives in going to her place. Tonight is all about being with each other because we like being around each other. And that scares the ever-loving crap out of me.

  Taking a deep breath, I try to calm myself down. It’s just pizza.

  My arms are full of empty calories and carb-loaded goodness as I lead her into my house. After setting the pizza boxes on the table, I turn around and watch her take in my place.

  I know she was here this morning, but apparently, she didn’t stop to take a good look around, because she’s soaking up my living environment like it’s the first time she’s stepped foot inside.

  “I like your home, Derrick. It suits you,” she states, smiling softly as her eyes scan the decor.

  My place is very modern. Everything is either chrome, black, or white, with straight lines and sharp corners. Probably not the best place to raise kids, but it works as a bachelor pad. My nieces and nephews live out of state, so I always go to their house whenever we get together. I have a few modern paintings hanging on the walls with pops of color, but overall it’s very fresh and monochromatic. Some might even call it cold, and I hope that’s not what she was hinting at when she said my home suits me.

  I don’t want her to think of me as cold. I want her to see me as warm and inviting. I look around my main floor with fresh eyes, wondering what she sees in my family room that fits me so well.

  “Care to expand on that little comment?” I ask anxiously, while trying to come off casual.

  Grinning, she continues, “I just mean everything is clean, attractive, polished, and has a specific function or use. You also have very little clutter. Did you ever notice that? I’ve never met a guy who lives in such pristine living conditions. You’re not one for knickknacks are you my friend?” Her smirk causes my stomach to tighten.
/>   Before I can even think of a response, she’s rambling again. “I’m not going to lie. This place is pretty much the opposite of my apartment. Everything I own is mismatched or secondhand, and I don’t own anything white. Not that I don’t like the color, mind you. I’m just guaranteed to spill something on it within five minutes. Speaking of,” she says, getting distracted and pointing her finger at me, “don’t let me get off my bar stool until my pizza is completely finished. Your gorgeous sectional over there would look terrible with a pizza sauce stain on the cushion,” she teases, continuing on with her original speech. “And let’s not even get started on your classy artwork over there,” she says, gesturing toward my walls. “I have freaking cat posters in my bedroom, Derrick.” She’s grinning, although I’m unsure if she’s teasing me or making fun of herself with her last sentence.

  Either way, her grin is contagious, and I catch myself smiling at her as well.

  “Noted.”

  “That’s all you have to say? I just gave you a five minute monologue, and your only response is noted?” She laughs.

  “Well, I think you pretty much summed everything up. Now, shall we eat?” I question, motioning toward the pizza that’s getting cold.

  “Yes, definitely. I hate cold pizza.” She shudders as if the thought alone is enough to lose her appetite.

  “Really? I would’ve had you pegged for a cold pizza kind of girl, too.” I smirk.

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because you’re a quirky little individual, Breezy. And quirky people like cold pizza.”

  She giggles, grabbing a giant slice of cheesy pizza, the toppings practically falling off the thin crust.

  “Quirky, huh?” She tilts her head, considering my assessment. “Yeah, I think that’s probably an apt description.” She smiles flirtatiously, taking a huge bite of pizza and making my mouth water in the process.

  “So, ready to have a heart to heart about your little no-fraternization hang up?” she asks through her mouthful of carbs.

  I shake my head, finding her bluntness both shocking and admirable. Who has the balls to just come out with something like that? To say what they really think, damn the consequences? To be willing to ask a question point-blank, regardless of the situation? Some might consider her abrasive, but I find it commendable.