by Penny Wylder
“It is,” my mother says. “Get your ass over here and say hello.”
My father comes around the corner from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Hey, sweetie. I’m so glad to have you here.” He pulls me into a hug, and gives me a kiss on the temple that I lean into.
It’s weird how you miss your parents and don’t realize it. You think you’re fine, and then you see them and you realize what a big part of your life they are. Even when they’re not there. “Hi, Dad.”
“Your mother harangued to me into cooking on the barbecue,” he says. “But…I thought we might save that for later, and have one of our old traditional outings.”
I laugh. “You want to take me bowling?”
My dad grins. “Is that bad? Are you too old for burgers and bowling?”
I shake my head, and give him another long hug. “I’m never too old for burgers and bowling,” I say.
My mother rolls her eyes and pouts. “So you’re just going to leave me here alone?”
My father leans in and kisses my mother on the cheek. “Absolutely, dear. You’ll get to have her all to yourself tomorrow and the next day, I’m sure. But tonight, we’re going to have a father-daughter date. Just like we used to.”
My mother makes a face in protest, but she’s smiling too. “And what am I supposed to do with all the barbecue?”
“We can eat it for leftovers.” My dad shrugs. “In fact, I think we made enough that we’ll be eating it for the next couple of days anyway.” He turns to me “Do you need some time to get ready?”
I nod. “Yeah, let me take my bags upstairs and rinse off some of the travel grime. Then I’ll be ready to go.”
“Sounds good,” he says. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Burgers and bowling is something that my dad and I always used to do together. I don’t even remember how the tradition started, but it always ended up that if we ever want to spend time together, then that’s what we did.
Some of the kids I grew up with made fun of me for it. They didn’t like hanging out with their fathers at all, so the idea that I would do something as embarrassing as bowling with mine kind of blew their minds. But I love bowling, and whether or not it was because of our tradition, it’s always held a special place in my heart.
Given the way I am feeling right now, I have the urge to just go to sleep. But going out and bowling—doing something I know I love—makes me smile. And I really need to smile right now.
I take my time. Washing my face and refreshing my make-up before changing my clothes. I want to be comfortable, but I also don’t want to be in the same outfit that I just drove five hours in. When I finally come downstairs, my dad is right there waiting. He stands. “Ready to go?”
“Yep.”
I give my mother a hug, and she hugs me back. “Have fun,” she says. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
That makes me laugh. “I certainly hope so.”
As soon as we get into the car, my dad is pestering me with questions. He works in the stock market—the same kind of work that Bryce used to do before he left to start his consulting firm. Despite being in Massachusetts, there are some big private brokerage firms in the suburbs, taking advantage of the lower overhead in order to do business at a higher margin.
“So,” he asks, “how’s the business going?”
“It’s going okay,” I say. “We are in the black, but not by much. Not that that’s particularly weird. Bookstores operate at a very close margin.”
“But your making enough to get by?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
My dad nods slowly. “I was really nervous about the whole thing when you started,” he says. “But you’ve done such a good job with the whole business, I never should have been worried.”
“You’re my dad. It’s your job to worry about things like that.”
He smiles. “True. How’s everything else?”
“What do you mean by else?”
“The rest of your life. Social, romantic, whatever. There’s more to life than work, you know.”
That’s not a question that he would normally ask me, and despite the fact that I don’t want to talk about my personal life at all right now, it makes me curious. “Did Mom tell you to ask that?”
“No,” he laughs. “Well, yes, but I brought it up first. We just want to know that you’re happy.”
“Yeah,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know. I appreciate it.”
He sighs. “Your mother and I miss you. I hope you know that.”
“I’m really not that far away,” I say. “It could be worse.”
His chuckle is a welcome and familiar sound. “Yes, it definitely could be.”
We pull up to the bowling alley and I’m overcome with memories. I spent a lot of good times here. This is exactly what I need. Or I think that it’s exactly what I need, until we walk in and my dad shouts in recognition, making the object of my thoughts and pain turn around and see me.
Here.
Bryce is here.
What the fuck?
He’s surrounded by a group of people, men and women that all seem to know my father. Glancing at me, I can see the question in his eyes. “Go say hi,” I tell him.
Bryce hugs my father and greets him warmly, but he only has eyes for me. His gaze bores into mine over my dad’s shoulder, and I come closer slowly.
Dad turns and gestures. “Come say hi, Katti.”
“Hello,” I say, giving a small wave.
“Hello, Katti,” Bryce says. His voice makes every hair on my body stand up on end. God, it’s good to see him, and I’m having a really difficult time not reaching out to touch him.
My dad looks around at the assembled group. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Impromptu get together. Since I was in town for the baby. You both should join us,” he says.
“No, that’s all right,” my dad says. “We’re on father-daughter date.”
I cut in. “I don’t mind, Dad. I’m not going to keep you away from your friends. Besides, bowling is more fun with a group. And you know you’d keep walking down here to talk to them anyway.”
He gives me a searching look. “Are you sure?”
No. “Definitely.”
The smile on his face lets me know that I made the right decision. “Great. I’ll see about getting two more people added to the lane and grab our shoes.”
He walks away, and the rest of the people in the group haven’t noticed that Bryce is talking to me, and I should step away from him and create some distance.
I don’t.
Stepping close to me, Bryce lowers his voice so only I can hear. “You haven’t answered my calls. Why?”
“You know why.” I have to look away.
He sighs. “Please, Katti. Just talk to me.”
“It hurts too much.”
“You know that it doesn’t have to.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t know that.” Now I do walk away, putting my bag down at one of the tables and accepting the shoes my dad brings when he comes back. He takes care of setting us up on the game, even if there are only half the frames left. “We can come back,” my dad says. We don’t.
But the next game, I’m ready for. “Hold that thought,” I say to everyone. “I’m going to get a drink, but when I get back and we have a fresh start, I’m going to kick some ass.”
My dad laughs. “That’s my girl.”
“I need a refill,” Bryce says. “I’ll join you.”
It’s an innocent enough reason to walk with me over to the bar, but I know his motives are anything but innocent. Mine are pure. There’s no way that I can get through the rest of this night without a drink. Maybe two. I can’t just be around him normally, watching him laugh and joke with his friends. Act like this isn’t affecting him at all.
“Are you going to avoid talking to me all night?” he asks, leaning against the bar as I wait to order.
“If I
have to.” I order a fruity drink with vodka and consciously make an effort not to look at him.
“I want to have a conversation with you about this,” he says. “I want to talk about it because I’m not ready to give up.”
“Please, Bryce,” I say, grabbing my drink. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he mutters as I walk away. But he gets his own drink and follows me back to the lanes.
“All right,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
Bryce sprawls on one of the chairs with his drink, that open and friendly demeanor back in full force. He’s a very good actor. “Are you aiming to win?”
“Of course.”
He levels a stare at me. “You’re on.”
“You think you can beat me?” I raise an eyebrow.
My dad claps Bryce on the shoulder. “You might not know what you’re getting yourself into there. She’s very good.”
Bryce smiles. “Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.” Shortly afterward, my phone pings in my pocket.
I pull it out, surprised when it’s a notification from Hearts First. But it’s not a new message—it’s our same message thread with a new conversation started.
You look sexy as fuck right now.
I both love and hate that that statement makes me blush. He gets under my skin so easily.
I’m wearing jeans and a button-down.
So? Those jeans show off your ass in a way that’s very tempting. And if you haven’t noticed the way that shirt clings to your tits, that’s not my fault. I’m going to enjoy staring at them anyway.
It’s my turn to bowl, and I can feel Bryce’s eyes on me as I go up and take the shot, but I’m mixed up enough that I miss completely. Gutter ball. When I turn back his eyes are full of laughter. I pick up my ball again with steely resolve, and this time the ball goes exactly where I aim it. Strike.
I pull out my phone and type out a message to him.
Why are you doing this?
Doing what?
THIS.
You’re talking to me, aren’t you? I’ll take what I can get.
I feel a little shaky as I put down my phone and watch him take his turn. If he wants to stare at my ass, then I’m going to stare at his. Bryce has a great ass, and it’s cupped in the jeans he’s wearing. It would be a great ass even if I didn’t know what was underneath those jeans. But I do know, and that makes it both better and so, so much worse.
He throws the ball with perfect accuracy on the first try. “See, Katti?” he says as he comes back, brushing his hands together like he’s sweeping away invisible dust. “Two can play at that game.”
“I’m just getting started,” I say, showing him determination on my face.
My dad looks back and forth between us, a smile that’s both amused and confused on his face. “Play nice, you two.”
I smile sweetly. “I’m always nice.”
I land another strike on my next turn and come back to another message.
I like the view from back here. Perfect angle to enjoy your body.
You’re flirting with me.
Just stating facts, Katti. I have a very nice view of you when you throw the ball, and I have to say, I’m enjoying it.
A pause.
Though I can think of several things that I would enjoy more.
Oh god. What is he thinking of? There are any one of dozens of memories that he could be referring to. But I don’t get an answer because it’s his turn. He lands a strike, and I decide to answer first before he can get back.
I have a pretty good view from here too, you know.
Look all you want, baby girl. That ass is yours.
I feel my face flush red, and I take a long swig of my drink.
Don’t say things like that.
Me not saying them won’t make them less true.
A combination of anger and need rolls through me. Damn him for making this hard, and the fact that he won’t see that I’m doing this for both of us. Seriously. How can he be so blind? But I look at him and my body remembers being in those arms only a week ago, and statements like that make me want to go to him no matter who is watching.
I take my turn, slamming down a strike with angry determination. I’m amazed that I do. I’m a good bowler from all the times I’ve been with dad, but even I’ve never had a perfect game.
I don’t respond on the app. I’m not going to give him more fuel. But this time, when Bryce goes to take his turn, I can’t stop staring at his ass.
Mine.
That’s the word that’s echoing in my head now, damn him. Fucking hell.
He bends over way more than he usually does when he’s taking his turn, making the back of his jeans draw tight. And I know that he’s doing it on purpose. The need that goes through me is almost overwhelming. A whole week of missing him and wanting him and not even an hour in his presence is making me break down.
Fine. If I’m going to be miserable, then he’s going to be miserable, too. I undo the top two buttons on my shirt. Not so much that it’s scandalous, but more than enough to flash some cleavage at him if he’s looking for it—and I’m going to make sure that he’s looking for it.
When my turn comes up, I make a show of inspecting my ball, bending over the return machine right in his direction. He stiffens, and I keep my face cool and collected as I straighten and move to throw the ball with a little more swing in my hips than I had before. Let him get hard. Let him ache. Let him feel even a fraction of the agony that I’ve felt this week.
He lands a strike on his next turn and earns cheers. We’re both in the lead by far. On the way back, he meets my eyes with a smirk. I have to win. I have to. There is no other option. “You’re going down, Bryce.”
He laughs easily, “Keep telling yourself that.” His friends laugh too, and my dad, though I see my dad glance between us again like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on. He can try to figure it out all he likes. But me trying to beat Bryce at a game of bowling isn’t going to give away the secret.
To my surprise, Bryce grabs his ball from the return long before his turn and even mine. I don’t know why. He just keeps it in his lap. I’m trying not to stare at him and figure out what he’s doing. And to anyone else, the action might seem casual, but not to me.
He leans back in his chair, ball in his lap, and then I see it. His fingers. They’re stroking the ball, drawing tiny patterns over the surface—exactly the way he used to do after we’d finished with sex. We’d lay there in my bed and he’d trace lines on my back and I loved the tingles that would run all over my body.
It’s my turn now, and all I can think about are his hands on my skin and how much I miss that feeling and would do anything to have it again.
I don’t hit the strike. I only take down nine, and even with my second ball, I miss. I get some sympathy and pats on the back, but all I can do is glare at Bryce. He’s trying to mess me up. He simply shrugs with a smile, and I roll my eyes. And then I freeze.
Bryce is touching the ball again, but this time he’s not caressing it. He’s fucking it with his fingers. I’m the only one that can see his hand, middle finger thrusting firmly and deliberately into the ball as he stares at me.
Oh my god.
Heat rises up my body, and I think I’m going to explode. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this angry and turned on and confused. The way his mouth tips up into a smile I recognize from the moments before pleasure tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing, too.
I’m going to rip the bowling ball out of his hands, I swear. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself. But just as I’m about to do something stupid, all the lights in the bowling alley go out.
13
The whole bowling alley is dark for a second, and then everything flips back on. Everyone looks around in confusion, but it seems like it was just a blip. But the first thing I notice is that the games on all the screens are gone, and that all th
e lanes are starting to reset. Shit.
“Sorry everyone,” one of the employees yells from the desk. “Power surge. We’ll get everything up and running in a second, and we’ll deduct the last game from your total bill.”
My dad sighs. “Looks like this is the perfect time to get us all some refills before the next game. You want one, Katti?”
“Yes, please.”
But dad isn’t the only one with that idea. The bar is flooding with people—including some people from our group—and that’s going to take a while. I see my chance. Marching over to Bryce, I say under my breath. “You want a conversation? Let’s have a conversation.”
“Please.”
“Not here.”
I lead him down the lanes to the exit door and out into the side alley. It’s late summer now, and since the sun has already set, the air is cool. I let the door completely close before I start to speak. “We can’t do this. You can’t just flirt with me and fuck your stupid bowling bowl and tell me that your ass is mine—”
Bryce leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and just watches me. He’s not angry, not smiling, not trying to flirt. He’s just watching, and I can’t stand it. His sleeves are pushed up just the way I like them, and I can feel the heat in his eyes even in the darkness.
I can’t do this. I have to touch him. I have to. If I don’t, I’m going to lose myself, and I can feel myself letting go of the consequences in this moment.
The sound that comes out of me is desperate and needy, and I take a step toward Bryce. Reach for him. That’s all it takes. The second I break, he reaches for me, spinning me against the wall and crushing my body with his. Lips crash down on mine, and it’s like I can breathe again. I didn’t know that he was my oxygen, but he is, and I don’t know how I’ve lived without this feeling.
My hands are touching him without my permission, and his are doing the same to me. I have all the parts of him memorized and I’m satisfying the craving to remember with my fingertips. He moves his mouth to my neck, and down further to my chest where I undid my buttons. He’s lighting a fire under my skin and I’ve never been so happy to burn alive.
