My earlier disappointment over missing lunch with him was long behind me—now replaced with the eager determination to spend time with him. While I was concentrating on Mr. Turner’s hand, a thought occurred to me. Why was I waiting for Jonathan to ask me out? There was absolutely no reason I couldn’t ask him.
Then, insecurity pounded its way into my brain, reminding me that it was possible he could say no. Sure, it was entirely possible he didn’t want to date me, and maybe he just enjoyed having salad with me. Even though common sense told me this wasn’t the case, I couldn’t get past the fear of being rejected. It would just make his appointments awkward and ruin the fun we’d been having over the past week. So, being the coward I apparently was when it came to Jonathan, I took the easy way out.
Once I finished working those fabulously taut quadriceps of his, I worked to secure his knee brace when I blurted out, “So, Jonathan, got any plans tonight?”
He tensed a little under my hand, making me more nervous, so I avoided making eye contact. When his voice reached my ears, it sounded raspy, thick. “No. Got nothing planned tonight, Leeann.”
Still avoiding eye contact, I sat back on my stool and basically pretended to be talking to his knee, “Well, I promised my roommate I’d go with her to this new club.” I shrugged, realizing how lame I sounded. Maybe I should’ve thought this through more. With fingers crossed, I silently prayed he would forget the last two minutes. But I had no such luck.
“Which new club?” he asked.
“I can’t remember the name of it, but it’s over by SDSU. I could text you the name after I talk with Mari,” I offered, finally meeting his eyes. His gaze was intense and concentrated directly on me. It was like he was willing me to say something. It gave me a little more courage, but my fear was still palpable.
“What time are you going?”
I’d asked him to meet me somewhere, and I had no clue what time we were going, or what the place was called. I felt like a complete moron. “Uh, I don’t know actually. I just know we’re going. I’m sorry, I sound like a fool.”
“No, you don’t. You can just text me the name and the time after you talk to your roommate.” His voice remained gruff, his eyes still intense as they held my stare. Oh, how I wanted a taste of that intensity. And there was no way I’d get to taste any part of this super-sexy-soccer-man if I didn’t at least put myself out there.
I nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. Maybe we can have more than salad tonight.”
The grin that spread across his face told me everything I needed to know. Jonathan Baxter was definitely looking for more than just salad with me.
“Mari … you home?” I called out as I entered the apartment. I was certain she’d be home since we were going out, and her preparation usually took a minimum of two hours when there was a club involved. According to Mari, clothing choices were critical; you wanted to expose the right amount of skin without looking slutty. She said it was the best way to “command attention silently.” She really should write a book about this crap.
Me? My choices were usually made with two things in mind. Did I feel sexy? And could I dance in it? Tonight, though? Tonight, I wanted to impress Jonathan, so I was focusing more on the sexy part. When Mari didn’t answer, I set my bag down in my bedroom doorway and followed the hall to her room.
I found her on her bed, painting her toenails, and wearing her noise-cancelling headphones. The only time she wore those was when our neighbors were going at it. I knocked to get her attention, but the headphones obviously negated that. Last time I scared Mari when she was painting her nails she spilled the polish, which ruined her bedspread, therefore forcing me to buy her a new one ‘cause I felt so bad. Even though I replaced it, she still swept through the apartment while I was sleeping and removed all my cherry blow pops.
Mari lived by the phrase ‘payback is a bitch.’ It was cruel and unusual punishment to hide my stash so there was no way I was risking that torture again. She said she was trying to condition me by doing that. You know the whole Pavlov’s Dogs conditioning and crap, minus the salivating and bells. It clearly worked because I’ll never risk startling Mari while she’s painting her toenails again. Which happens like every other day.
So I did the only thing I could … I sent her a text: I’m in your doorway.
She looked up and smirked. Yeah, she was proud of her “conditioning.” Stupid sociology major. I just shook my head and motioned for her to remove her headphones. Taking them off slowly, Mari listened before fully discarding them.
“They goin’ at it again?” I asked, moving into her room.
“Ugh, like overgrown rabbits. At first I wondered how a couple could have that much sex. So I figured one of them had to be steppin’ out on the other. I know that’s not the case now because they say the same things every time. With her ‘oh yes baby’ and his ‘take it baby’ …” Mari said, pretending to stick her finger down her throat, gagging herself.
I laughed at her impression of their voices then followed it up with a crude hand/facial gesture. She threw a pillow at me, forcing me to laugh harder. When she got up and stood in front of her closet I teased, “You got me kinda hot there, Mari. Think you can say that again, but be more demanding this time.”
All I got in response was a middle finger salute, though I knew she was smiling. I could see her cheeks lift. After laughing once more, I got serious. “Okay, so on to more important stuff.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that? The amount of orgasms she had and how long it took him to finish? I don’t know because I put my headphones on with the first thud of their headboard.”
Taking a deep breath, I fought the chuckle trying to escape. Dropping to the ground, I slipped out of my cross-trainers before crossing my legs in front of me. I gave her my full attention because I knew I was about to get all of hers. “No, definitely more important than that. Like what I should be wearing when we go out tonight.”
Mari quickly turned to me, displaying her skepticism at my words. I very rarely asked her what I should wear. “You’re fucking with me, right? Is this one of those jokes where I tell you what to wear and you immediately throw the outfit in the garbage, deeming it too slutty for the likes of you?”
Again, my attempt at stifling my laugh was almost unsuccessful. I snorted instead. “No joke. I’m dead serious.”
“Why?” Her eyes were narrowed now, and I almost felt bad I made her question my motives like this. Almost.
“Because I wanna make sure I look hot but not slutty tonight.” Shrugging, I paused. Definitely going for the dramatic effect. “I invited Jonathan to meet us there.”
I closed my eyes, my shoulders instinctively rising to cover my ears when the squeal broke through the air. Only seconds later I was being drug by my arm toward the hallway. Mari might be tiny compared to me—I had at least five inches on her—but she was freakishly strong.
“Get in the shower. You should’ve left work hours ago … there isn’t enough time now,” Mari frantically declared as she pulled me toward my room. “I need back up!”
My feet finally made purchase on the carpet. Thank God, too, because I was getting a rug burn on my ass. Halting Mari’s progress, I pulled myself up. Rubbing my burning cheek with one hand, I pushed my hair out of my face with the other. “Calm down, Mighty Mouse, your face is getting splotchy.” Her hands went to her cheeks, and her eyes widened. “I need help with my wardrobe, but I can handle the rest.”
“And by handle I hope you mean you’ll be shaving, tweezing, buffing, and softening up everything you can reach … and then some,” she said while fanning herself.
“Gee Mari, you make me sound like a Neanderthal. I have been out with plenty of guys before. Hell, some of them even thought I was hot.”
I made my way into my room and began removing my top when I heard Mari snort from my doorway.
“Don’t be so sensitive, Lee. Of course you’ve gone out with guys before. Hell, I know what you sound like when you come.” Mari sh
ivered as if the thought grossed her out. Just as I was about to throw something at her, she continued. “This is clearly different. This is super-sexy-soccer-man. You’ve had a lady-boner for the jock since laying eyes on him a hundred yards out. That’s some powerful mojo.”
“Stop talking about my lady-boner, and never use the term ‘mojo’ again. It just sounds wrong. Now get to your point. I don’t understand why you think this time is different.” Standing in my bra and panties at this point, I wait for Mari to answer my question.
“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that. You’re lucky you’re so sexy.”
“Point, Mari?” I demanded, heading into the bathroom to turn on the shower.
“My point is … while you’ve gone out and gotten laid plenty of times before, you’ve never once asked me to help with your wardrobe options.”
Standing up straight, I turned to her. She was absolutely, one hundred percent correct. I’d never asked her to help me get dressed. I may have occasionally asked her opinion, and usually chose the other option. But she was right. I couldn’t deny it, though I was sure Mari was waiting for it. Whether intentional or not, I had placed a significant amount of importance on tonight. And I just gave Mari full reign over how sexy I was going to look.
Mari smirked then motioned for me to get in the shower. My silence must have amused her because she giggled before turning to leave.
“Make sure you shave all the hard-to-reach places. One can never be too prepared.”
I groaned, stepping into the shower. She was probably going to check and make sure I did. Shit! She totally would, I thought as I let the water roll over my head. I was going to be busy in this shower.
What felt like an hour later, I finally finished my shower. It shouldn’t have surprised me to find a bedroom full of girlfriends in various states of undress. I laughed when I saw Brenda struggling to pull a too-tight top over her enormous boobs. She got stuck and squeaked out a cry for help. Angie stepped up to rescue her, saying, “Damn girl, are you the only one who hasn’t figured out you have ginormous hooters. When are you going to start buying tops that you don’t get stuck in?”
Together, the two of them wrestled the top around the offending area and as far down to Brenda’s tiny waist as possible.
Brenda defended herself, “They aren’t ginormous; they just look that way because I have a tiny waist.”
Angie snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, and my ass only looks this big because I carry a tiny purse.”
“So I see she wasn’t kidding about calling for back up,” I said, catching their attention.
They both smiled at me. Angie moved my way, motioning me toward my dresser. “Hey skank, if I were you, I’d throw something on before Mari barrels in here to make sure you didn’t miss anything. I had to stop her from busting in on you in the shower.”
“Shit.”
I hurried to my drawer as Angie added, “I’d put on something skin tight too. She’s less likely to wrestle that shit off you.”
Pulling out a pair of tight boy shorts, it was difficult to slide them up my still-damp legs. Not to mention I was trying to hold my towel up over my chest. I might’ve thought my boobs were amazing, but that didn’t mean I flashed my friends unnecessarily. Angie threw a tank top my direction, and I nodded my thanks before turning and slipping it on.
When I turned to Brenda and Angie, I could see the amusement dancing in their eyes—like they knew a secret. That made me nervous. Especially where Mari was concerned. Brenda tugged on her too-tight shirt again trying to cover her exposed waistline, “Next time, do us a favor and warn us before unleashing Mari on us. You know how ruthless she can be.”
Brenda was right. Mari was ruthless and evil and the coolest girl I knew. It was always best to have her on your side. “My bad ladies. I didn’t realize she’d go to the extreme. I only asked for help picking my wardrobe, but I should’ve known better. Where is Mighty Mouse anyway?”
Angie answered, “Last I know, she was tearing everything out of her closet. Miriam and Jen are in there, too. I’m not sure if it’s of their own free will or if they’re afraid to turn their backs on Mari.”
I squared my shoulders, preparing to find out what Mari had planned for me when she blew into the room, Jen and Miriam not far behind her. “It’s about time you stopped cowering in the shower!”
She tossed a pile of clothes on the foot of my bed before climbing up on top of it. Lifting the top garment, she held it up to my face and examined it. I could only imagine she was checking to see which one worked best with my complexion. I’d never seen her look this intense when getting herself ready. I should probably worry about her a little.
“Hey Mari, you okay? You seem like you’re wound a little too tightly.” I looked to my friends who only smirked at me. They were clearly happy I was on the receiving end of this attention. When Mari didn’t answer, I poked her belly to get her attention. She jumped, like she had no idea I was in the room.
She blinked and looked down at me. “What?”
“You okay? You look a little strung out.”
Looking like my words offended her, she admitted, “That’s ‘cause I am. I have to get this right for you!”
She picked up the next outfit and held it up, considering its worth. I looked at our friends again, but I knew I was on my own. So I did what I always did with Mari; I distracted her. Throwing my arms around her waist, I hoisted her over my shoulder and spun her around. Her squeals filled the room, followed quickly by our friends’ laughter, then the sounds of her smacking my ass. “Put me down you crazy bitch. I thought you said you weren’t a Neanderthal!”
When she laughed, I finally put her back on top of the bed where I found her. “I might be a crazy bitch, but I’m your crazy bitch.”
Mari grinned, the intensity now gone. “Yeah you are. But know this: do that again and I’ll throat punch you.”
I covered my throat at the thought. “I had to do something. It was either that or slap Angie.”
Angie complained, “Hey, why would you slap me?”
I shrugged. “Because Brenda scratches, and Jen would slap me back?”
Jen agreed, “I totally would.”
Angie thought about it, before saying, “Why not Miriam?”
“Duh, because Miriam is the quiet one who hangs out in the background but could totally kick all our asses if she wanted.”
We all glanced Miriam’s way. She gave us an evil grin. Angie nodded. “Oh yeah, I see your point. It’s always the silent ones.”
We all laughed together before Mari started demanding our focus. I loved my friends and was so glad they were there. It helped distract me from the pigeon-sized butterflies filling my stomach. Especially when Mari held up a completely sheer top against my chest. Shoving it away gently, “How ‘bout we leave something to the imagination. Besides, it is December.”
“Fine.” Mari grumbled as she sifted through the pile again. I startled when she yelled, “Yes, this!”
When she held up a deep blue top that looked to hug the body, but had three-quarter length sleeves that only attached at the neck and then again at the hem, leaving the shoulder and upper arm exposed. I smiled, “Very nice choice, Mari. I like it.”
“It would go perfect with those tight, black on black cheetah print pants of yours … oh and those new black wedges!” Mari exclaimed as she jumped off my bed and dove for my closet. Her excitement was contagious as I imagined the outfit. My thoughts ventured to the blue bra and pantie set that matched the top almost perfectly. A sexy feeling washed over me as I strode to my dresser and retrieved them.
Walking into the bathroom, I caught the pants Mari threw my way and said, “Here’s to making blue Jonathan’s new favorite color.”
I heard a whistle, a cat-call and a you-go-girl as the door closed and I proceeded to get my sexy on.
As we entered the club, Robby groaned immediately. Looking at him, I had to laugh. His hands covered both ears, and he had a pained expre
ssion on his face. “God, I can’t stand this song. It’s like the Small World song; it’ll be on repeat in my head for the next fucking day—if not longer.”
“Timber” was playing loudly, pounding out a beat that filled the club. I shrugged at Robby’s comment. “It’s not that bad. Besides, have you been on the Small World ride over and over? I know you haven’t, so shut the hell up.”
Robby knew that I had, so he had no comeback. I smirked and turned my attention to the crowded club, searching the crowd of faces for the one I wanted to see. The one that had been floating through my thoughts for days now. I took a deep breath to quell the excitement coursing through my body. Just thinking how I might be able to finally touch her … I was one step away from needing a sedative.
I was still focusing on calming myself down a little when Robby elbowed me in the ribcage. I was about to retaliate when I saw him pointing to the dance floor. “Fuck. Me.”
His eyes were fixed on one thing, and as I gazed in that direction, I knew exactly what he was looking at. Or rather, who he was looking at. In fact, I didn’t need to look around to know that every fucking guy in the club was probably looking at her. How could they not? She was fantastic.
Leeann wasn’t a short woman, so, when you added the high heels she was wearing to the way she was swaying those hips, she was quite noticeable. Forget the obvious reasons—like how she was a fucking knockout—but when a guy saw a woman like her dancing like that, they were thinking of only one thing. And it wasn’t about dancing.
“Dude, I saw her first,” Robby declared next to me. Nice try.
Smiling, I shook my head, not bothering to take my eyes off her. “Hate to break it to you, but I saw her first. Actually, I’ve seen her three times a week for the past two weeks,” I said smugly, patting his shoulder in condolence.
“Sonofabitch,” Robby grumbled before asking, “That’s your physical therapist? You’re a lucky bastard, Baxter.”
Assumptions Page 8
