I tried to gather my thoughts while he drove. Yes, I was insanely attracted to him. That didn’t mean that I should do anything stupid like lose my head when I was with him.
I stared out the window on my side, trying not to think about how close we were. Even though the air was brisk today, the sun was shining and there were only a few wispy clouds in the sky way off in the distance. That would help with whatever outdoor activity he had planned.
I lived near Millennium Plaza City Park on the western bank of the Willamette. He drove us across the bridge to the other side of the city. Even though I was searching my mind to figure out where he might be taking me and what he intended for us to do, I couldn’t come up with anything. I hadn’t lived here long enough to know the sorts of places people might go on a date. I didn’t have a clue until he pulled up in front of Oaks Park, at least. But even then, I was confused.
“Aren’t they closed for the winter?” It was an amusement park, full of insanity like Ferris wheels and bumper cars and all sorts of things I hadn’t gotten on or in or even thought about in years.
“The amusement park is,” he said, shutting off the engine. “But the skating rink is open.”
My heart skittered, but he flashed me a sexy-as-hell smile and came around the front of the car to help me out. I put my hand in his and let him lead me inside despite my moment of hesitation. Thank goodness it was roller-skating and not ice-skating. I hadn’t been on ice skates since well before I’d gained all the weight, and frankly, I didn’t know how well my ankles would hold up on those tiny blades. My legs were still relatively strong from dance, but not like they used to be. Besides, skate blades and dancing heels fell into two entirely different categories.
We rented skates and put them on, and he took our coats and my purse to a locker. Before I was ready for it, he took my hand again and was leading me out to the rink.
“Roller-skating,” I mumbled, completely thunderstruck. “You hounded me after that class so you could take me roller-skating?”
Keith turned around to skate backward, reaching for my other hand to help pull me along. There was something about the colorful lights bouncing around the room, and the shimmery flashes coming off the disco ball in the center that made him look almost sinful out there. “This is just part of it. There’s a lot more to come before the night’s over, Brie.”
I laughed, despite myself. Roller-skating.
IT WAS A rare occurrence that I used my clout as a local sports celebrity to get something that an everyday person might not have access to, but I’d had no qualms about doing it when I was preparing for this date. Obtaining reservations for any of the restaurants along the river when the Christmas Ships Parade was taking place was generally next to impossible. A lot of the restaurants were booked solid more than a year in advance for this annual event. I’d begged and pleaded and used every bit of my minor fame, and even that hadn’t been enough at first. It was only once I’d promised that we would finish our meal and leave before the parade started that I’d found a restaurant to agree to squeeze us in for dinner.
That had been an easy promise for me to make. I didn’t want her to see the ships from behind a pane of glass. I wanted to be right on the bank, where she could really experience it like a local. I’d done that my first year here, and it had been such a uniquely Portland experience that I’d made sure to do it every year since.
I’d come to appreciate the Christmas ships in my time playing with the Storm, especially in the last few years since I’d bought my big house on the river. The parade didn’t come quite far enough for me to watch it from my own balcony, but I always made an effort to find somewhere to watch it when I was in town on a night we didn’t have a game. The parade had become one of my holiday traditions as much as it was a Portland tradition.
A couple of years ago I’d invited my surviving brother, Shane, to come out and see it with me. I’d thought that maybe it could help me to build a bridge with him, that maybe we could start to mend fences and other shit like that. He hadn’t come, though. Not that year, or last year, and so far this year he was still telling me he didn’t think he could do it. He said it was work that was keeping him from visiting, but I didn’t buy that for a minute. He didn’t want to spend his holiday with me. Shane didn’t want anything to do with me. That wouldn’t stop me from trying. He was the only brother I had left.
Anyway, it was after no small amount of finagling and cajoling on my part that Brie and I ended up at a swanky French place, surrounded by flowers and candles and soft, classical guitar music playing in the background. The candlelight made her hair gleam like nothing I’d ever seen before. I made a mental note of it so I’d remember it in future. Candlelight and Brie were a match made in heaven.
“If your family lives in Illinois, how did you end up in Providence?” I asked her over my wineglass. We’d already finished eating, but there was still enough time before the parade began that I wasn’t in any big hurry to leave.
She shook her head. “They’re not all in Illinois anymore. My brother lives in Ohio now. But when you’re a dancer, you follow where dancing leads you. I ended up paired with the best partner I’d ever had, and he wanted to go train with one of the ballroom greats who had a studio in Providence. Val wasn’t just the best partner I’d ever had; he was miles better than any of the others. I didn’t want to lose my opportunity to dance with him, so I agreed to move. I’m sure it’s the same with you ending up here in Portland. Or at least similar.”
“Not exactly.”
“You followed the work, didn’t you? You went where the game took you. If you wanted to play at this level, to compete against people who are in the same professional sphere as you are, you had to go where they told you to go.”
“At first, sure. But now I can play where I want to play.”
“And you want to play here because it’s familiar?”
“Something like that.” More because I liked the direction this team was headed. I liked the position I had within the team, being part of the leadership core. I liked that playing here meant that, for much of the year, I could be so far away from the yawning hole I’d created within my family, that I could live with that emptiness all by myself without being surrounded by reminders of it everywhere I turned. I didn’t want to talk about myself, though. Not right now. “You have a sister, too, you said?” I asked. “She still lives near your parents?”
“Oh, yeah, she never had any intention of leaving. Married her high school sweetheart. She teaches second grade, and he’s a mortgage lender at the oldest bank in town. They’ve got a house a few blocks over from Mom and Dad, complete with the minivan, two and a half kids, and the picket fence.”
“Two and a half?”
“The dog is as good as their child,” Brie clarified, laughing.
“Understandable. My dogs are my kids. At least for now.” And we were back to talking about me. Not only that, but her eyes lit up when I added that last part. Fucking hell. I had to try harder to keep the conversation on her. “And your brother? Is he living the American dream, too?”
“His version of it, at least. He’s moved up through the ranks to become the CEO of his company, and he has a live-in girlfriend. No pets or kids, but he has a fancy sports car and lives in a penthouse.”
“And you’re somewhere in between the two of them, I guess.”
“Age-wise, yes. In any other way?” She shook her head.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She rolled her eyes at me, and even that was as pretty as a picture. She held up her hand and started ticking off a list, putting up a finger with each thing she named. “Single. Transient. Fleeting career after foolishly chasing my dreams.” With her other hand, she waved it along the side of her body, indicating God only knew what.
No, I knew what. It hit me like a ton of bricks. She meant her appearance.
“Dating a hot professional athlete,” I interrupted before she could make herself feel any worse, espe
cially because I was positive she was preparing herself to demean the body I found so beautiful.
Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, darker than ever because of the dim candlelight. “I wouldn’t say we’re dating.”
“This,” he said, indicating the pair of us, “is definitely a date. At least where I’m from. Maybe things are different in Providence. Still, one more, and…”
She took another sip from her wineglass, scowling. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“I know what I want, and I go for it,” I said, mimicking what I’d said about her cat earlier.
The waiter came back with our check, and Brie used that as an excuse to duck her head away from me, to try to back away from the candlelight and hide in the shadows. It was no use, though. There was no chance I could see anything but her.
I took out my credit card and paid the bill. When the waiter walked away to run the transaction, I reached across the table and trapped her fingers in my hand. “It feels good to touch you again. Even though this isn’t anything like how I want to be touching you.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice a breathless purr.
“Why what?” I let my gaze settle on one of the rare places on her body not fully covered—the alternatingly tensing and relaxing spot where her jaw met her neck. Each time she tensed, it tugged her earlobe down a bit. Just enough to draw my notice, as her small hoop earring swayed gently.
“Why do you want to touch me? Why did you want to take me out tonight? Why are you trying so hard to convince me we should be together?”
“Because in the nearly six months since that night, I’ve hardly been able to look at another woman without thinking about you, let alone touch one. Because all I have to do is see how you dress and the way you try to hide yourself away from the world to know that the one night we spent together wasn’t enough. For you. For me. You still think the bullshit he told you is the truth. You think you’re fat. You don’t believe that I could find you sexy when all I have to do is take one look into your eyes or hear your voice or get a single finger on your skin, and I’m hard as a fucking brick wall.”
There were tears welling in her eyes—big fat ones, building up right in the corners—but she didn’t pull her hand away from me. I traced the lines on the inside of her palm, easing my fingers up to tickle her wrist.
“You were going to tell me you’re fat, weren’t you?” I said after a moment.
“I am fat.”
“No, you’re not. You’re curvy and beautiful. You’re one of the most stunning women I’ve ever known, but you’ve got a head full of lies. I want to help you see the truth. That’s why I want to touch you and be with you.”
The waiter came back with my credit card and the receipt, and I had to drop her hand to sign the check. When I set the pen down and closed the leather folio, she’d already crossed her arms over her chest—attempting to hide herself again—and she looked off into the distance. A wet streak on her cheek shimmered in the candlelight.
“Did you meet him when you moved to Providence?” I asked.
She shot those midnight eyes over to stare at me but stayed quiet.
“The asshole who told you that you were fat,” I clarified. “The one who convinced you that you weren’t good enough.”
Brie sniffled and reached for her napkin to dab at her eyes. “He was my partner. Val.”
Her partner. Her dance partner. The man she’d followed halfway across the country, away from her family and her home. She’d given up everything for him. I’d barely comprehended it before she was pushing back from the table and pulling on her coat.
“Can we go? I want to go home now.” Without waiting for me, she made her way through the other tables toward the restaurant’s main entry.
I grabbed my coat from the back of my chair and hurried after her. As soon as I caught up to her, I put my arm around her—gently, but it was definitely there. She stiffened under my touch.
“There was something else I wanted to take you to do tonight,” I said once we got out into the parking lot, the breeze fluttering the hem of her skirt.
“I think it would be better if you took me home. You said you’d leave me alone after a date.”
“I will.” I opened the car door and waited while she got in. I didn’t close it, though, leaning over it so she had to look up at me. “If you want me to back off after tonight, I will. But please, let me take you to do one more thing.”
She frowned, but after a moment the cold must have started to get to her, and she shivered. “Will you close the door?”
“If you agree to let me show you what we came out here to see.”
“Fine. But then I want you to take me home.”
“After this, I’ll do anything you want me to.”
Now I had to make sure that what Brie wanted, when everything was said and done, was me.
KEITH DIDN’T DRIVE far before parking in one of the lots at Oaks Park, not far at all from where we’d been earlier. I really wasn’t in the mood to go roller-skating again, even though it had been fun before, and I had no doubt he knew that, so I couldn’t imagine why we were returning.
He shut off the engine and sent a scorching look in my direction. “Ready?”
Ready for what?
There were dozens of other people crossing the lot and heading toward the riverbank, so there must be something big going on. I shrugged and climbed out of his car. I hadn’t even shut the door yet and he was standing there, right in front of me, holding out a hand for mine.
I hesitated, but then I slammed the car door and forced myself to close the distance between us. I mentally kicked myself the whole time for acting the way I was. He didn’t deserve my acting like a shrew around him. It wasn’t Keith I was upset with; it was myself. Because he was right. Maybe he wasn’t right about me not being fat—I had a mirror, after all—but he might be right about me letting myself believe everything Val had said to me for so many years. I still heard Val’s voice in my head when I saw pictures of myself and when I looked in the bathroom mirror in the mornings. His voice was at its loudest when I saw myself in the studio mirrors.
How you think we can win if you looking like this? he’d said to me again and again in his thick Russian accent. Fat! Your body doesn’t look right when we move together. I need my old partner back. That hadn’t even been the worst of it, either. Those were the kinds of things he’d said when we were in public, when others might hear. When we were alone, it was so much worse. I can’t look at you like that. You make me sick. How you expect me to get turned on? It’s like fucking a whale.
The things he’d said to me hadn’t been lies, no matter what Keith wanted me to believe now. My body no longer moved the way it used to move. I couldn’t wear the slinky outfits I’d always worn in competition—the type that had emphasized my sleek body, my toned muscle, just the right curves in very specific places. If I put something like that on now, the people who saw me would want to cover their eyes and tell me to change into something more appropriate for a person my size.
It wasn’t just what I saw, and it wasn’t only about the things Val had said to me. I saw the way people looked at me now. I knew the way they treated me.
It’s a very different experience, being a heavy girl. I’d spent most of my life on the other end of the spectrum, so there weren’t many people who could make the comparison as readily as me. I never realized how easy some things were for me until all of a sudden they were next to impossible. It wasn’t all bad, though. These days, it was easy for me to be invisible, despite the fact that I took up twice as much space as I used to. I preferred to be invisible. That was a heck of a lot easier than dealing with the pitying stares or the disgusted expressions I got otherwise.
I couldn’t deny that the way Keith looked at me was different from everyone else, though. He looked at me the way Val used to look at me, before I’d gained all the weight. Before my entire life plan had been ripped like a rug from under my feet. And it didn’t seem as t
hough Keith was putting on an act in order to do it, which was really screwing with my head. No man had looked at me the way he did in almost four years now, but every time he turned in my direction, I could feel it.
Like now.
He’d parked near the pavilion, and Keith winked at me as he opened the trunk. He took out a blanket and we walked away from the car. The whole area was fairly well lit, and he guided me through the crowd, heading toward the riverbank—a realization that had me dragging my feet.
“I don’t know what everyone’s here for, but there’s not a chance you’re going to get me in the water.” The temperature had to have dropped down into the thirties while we were at dinner.
“Okay,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I like the idea of taking you skinny-dipping at night sometime, though. Maybe in the summer, when it’s warmer. There’s a private place up near my house in Nova Scotia—”
“Not in this life,” I cut in. Private or not, I wasn’t going skinny-dipping with anyone, anywhere, anytime. And what was he doing, trying to talk about us doing things together in the summer? We hadn’t even gotten through this date yet.
“Never say never. I’m really persuasive. You might end up eating your words.”
An odd sound came from my mouth, something along the lines of, hmph, and he reached for my hand. I took it, not thinking about how he might interpret my readiness to resume contact. He tugged me close to him, and the heat of his body warmed my side so much that I had to fight the urge to get even closer.
When we got to the bank, everyone was spreading out on the lawn, finding places to sit and look out at the water. Okay, so that had me curious. I couldn’t imagine what we were watching for since it was already fully dark out.
Keith found an empty space without too many people in front of us to block our view of the river, and he spread out the blanket. Once he had it settled, he took a seat and tried to ease me down to join him. There was one—big—problem, though. There wasn’t a graceful way for someone my size to get down to the ground while wearing a skirt. I ignored the help he was attempting to give me and situated myself as best I could, keeping a little space between us.
In the Zone (Portland Storm 5) Page 6
