Touch of Fondness: A New Adult Romance (Stay in Touch)

by Joy Penny

  He knew almost nothing about her.

  It probably wasn’t right that he spent so much time fantasizing about her lately.

  “Hey, look who decided to show up!”

  Archer hadn’t even noticed Jayden appear behind him or heard him bouncing the basketball down the sidewalk. He’d passed the parking lot Jayden and most of the guys usually used since few lived so conveniently close. He patted his hands against his wheels hard for good measure. He had to get his head in the game—in more ways than one. “Someone had to stop you from sending my mom into a tizzy, right? Had to get here plenty early this time.”

  Jayden twirled the ball on his fingers. Show off, thought Archer. “Hey, I said I was sorry about that, man.” He looked over his shoulder to nod and shout “hey” at a few more guys who walked past them.

  Archer sighed. “I know you are. I just…” He clapped his hands together once loudly. “I just wish I didn’t have to overthink everything, have to basically get permission to do anything not planned in my day.”

  “I feel you. If anyone else hadn’t showed up, I’d have texted him once and that would have been the end of it, whether he responded or not.” Jayden shrugged. “Life happens and all that.”

  Archer smirked. “But with me, you decide it’s necessary to call in the bomb squad?”

  “You, you’re…” He nodded at him and looked him once over, as if taking in his form in the chair for the first time.

  “I have a disability; I’m not dying.”

  “Yeah, yeah, my bad.” Jayden cocked his head and stopped the ball from spinning by gripping it tight with both hands. “She really that bad?”

  Archer nodded. “She’s really that bad.”

  “Sorry.” He tossed the ball in the air a few times and caught it each time. “I would have checked on you myself, but I forgot where you live.”

  “Right back that way!” Archer gestured at the sidewalk behind him with both hands, like he was an air traffic controller showing a plane where to land. “Straight down this sidewalk. Like ten minutes. You can’t miss it.”

  Jayden shrugged. “I knew it was in those condos, but I didn’t know which one. You’ve only had me over like once, dude.”

  Archer leaned over just as Jayden went to catch the ball again and snatched it out from under him. “Fine. My bad. Just… Next time, it’s preferable you go from door to door knocking in lieu of calling my mom, okay?”

  “Roger, roger.” Jayden grinned and nodded toward the court. “Ready?”

  Archer spun the ball over his fingers—perhaps not as adeptly as Jayden had, but at least the ball didn’t go rolling off elsewhere—and then dropped it onto his lap, his hands on his wheels. “Are you?” He took off toward the court.

  Jayden had to jog to catch up. “So why were you gone Tuesday? You never said.”

  Archer finished saying “hey” to the rest of the guys and passed the ball to their friend Lawrence before peeling his shirt off and tossing it onto one of the benches on the side of the court. “I wasn’t aware you were my keeper, man.”

  The game started and Jayden, Team Shirts today, guarded Archer so there was no escaping him. Jayden spoke between looking over his shoulder to see if the ball was in danger of getting to Archer and shuffling around the court to make sure it never became a possibility. “I’m not. I’m just… curious. You were sick?”

  “No.” Archer leaned around Jayden’s torso to track the movement of the ball, trying to subtly edge his way toward the opposing basket.

  “You had a deadline?”

  “Always.” Archer made a sharp turn with his wheel, jutting out just enough beyond Jayden’s range of grasp. “But I’ve been making good progress this week.”

  “Okay, then I’m about stumped. I know you have no social life, so… No.” Jayden actually stopped in place, a look of astonishment on his face. Archer wondered if he’d given something—not that there was much there—away, some quick flit of the truth of his thoughts, considering the way that girl wouldn’t get out of his mind. “You had a date!” shrieked Jayden. “That’s why you didn’t want your mom involved—”

  “Nope.” Archer used Jayden’s utter distraction to lean out and catch a pass from Darrin. He grinned and dodged away from Jayden, using his chair to block him as he wheeled with one hand and dribbled with the other. “I don’t need to have a date to not want my mom involved, and I promise I’d send a text if I was canceling because of a girl.”

  It’d taken Jayden an extra beat to get back into the game and that was all Archer needed to make the shot.

  Jayden jumped, but he wasn’t quite close enough to make a difference.

  The ball hit the rim and rotated all the way around… And rolled right off. So much for an epic rim shot.

  Jayden laughed and did a little victory dance, like he had anything to do with it. “So close. So close.”

  Archer groaned and dismissed him, digging into the bag that hung on the back of his chair for his bottle of water. He took a sip as Scott dribbled, knowing he’d probably have to step in any minute to guard Jayden. He quickly popped the spout of the bottle back in place, his last sip still swishing in his mouth, and turned around to drop the bottle back in the bag.

  He dropped it right onto the court floor. And he practically spit his water out to boot. He had not expected to see her.

  “Nice!” shouted Jayden, who sure enough, now had the ball in play.

  “Yo, Arch!” shouted Darrin, clearly disappointed. “Get your head in the game, man!”

  Scott ran over and picked up Archer’s bottle, dropping it in his bag for him.

  “Sorry,” said Archer, running his forearm over his mouth.

  “No problem.” Scott clapped his hands together several times. “All right, all right, all right, let’s do this—aw!” He clutched his hair as Jayden took a shot and made it.

  Somehow he’d gotten clear across the court and Archer hadn’t even moved an inch.

  “Time, time!” Darrin grabbed the ball and held his hands out together in a ‘T’ shape. He called over the Skins, more than half of which seemed like they wouldn’t be out of place posing for the model photos that decorated those cheap bags of underwear. Archer grabbed his own shirt from the bench to rub the sweat off his brow, his face flushing at how pathetic he must look beside them.

  He tried to listen to what Darrin had to say, but his gaze kept flickering to the park bench just twenty feet away from the court. The bench on which Brielle clearly sat, her Scrubbing Cherubs shirt abandoned for an even more revealing spaghetti-strap tank top.

  “Hey, Arch? Arch!” said Darrin.

  “What? Sorry?” Archer felt dazed.

  “You all right, man?”

  “Yeah, I…” He rubbed his face with the front of his shirt for the second time in half a minute.

  “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”

  Archer shook his head like a dog after a shower and clapped. “No, I’m in this. Let’s do this!”

  Only Archer couldn’t get his head in the game. It wasn’t entirely his fault that his team got utterly trounced less than an hour later, but he was confident he wasn’t winning any MVP awards if there were such things for a bit of casual park basketball.

  The guys still shook hands with each other—in that casual, swing your arm widely and come in for the hand smack kind of way—and talked shit about next time, but Archer wasn’t even able to focus on that. His arm hung out kind of limply, accepting each smack halfheartedly.

  “Rest up next time, bro,” said one of the guys. Archer didn’t even remember which. “Got to get your head in the game.”

  “Yeah,” he said. His gaze drifted for the first time in quite a while to the bench. He hadn’t let himself check since he’d first noticed her, but he could almost feel her eyes boring through the back of his head the rest of the game. Only she wasn’t there anymore.

  He laughed to himself. He’d been stressing all game over it when she’d probably left like a mi
nute after he’d noticed her there. Probably just as soon as she’d noticed him on the court. He couldn’t blame her. He’d had half a mind to bolt himself, but he figured it would draw more attention to himself if he did.

  He was an idiot for even worrying about it.

  “See you next week!” Jayden nodded at Archer as he headed back toward the parking lot, this time cutting through the grass for a more direct route.

  “Yeah.” Archer nodded, his damp T-shirt crumpled in his fists.

  “Don’t hold out on me, bud!” Jayden called over his shoulder just as he passed the bench Brielle had been sitting on. “I want to know first thing next time if you have a hot date!”

  Archer winced and tried to politely smile, but the smile was lost the instant he noticed Brielle wandering toward the bench from the park bathroom—how she stopped and looked from Jayden to Archer and back, clearly having heard Jayden’s pointless jab.

  Archer’s blood ran cold and he slumped his shoulders, turning his chair toward the path that would lead him home.

  Chapter Seven

  Brielle knew she’d chosen the worst possible time to pee. But how was she supposed to know when a basketball game was going to end? She’d never cared to watch a game before today.

  And she’d already held it for so long at that point. She’d figured she could be in and out before the guys went their separate ways.

  No such luck.

  She saw the group breaking up as she approached and her heart sank. Then again, what did she intend to do? Strike up a conversation with Archer? Why on earth would she even bother? Sure, she could say “hi” and everything, but what was she expecting?

  Maybe it was a good thing he’d already left.

  “Don’t hold out on me, bud!” called some guy a few steps in front of her as he headed for the parking lot. “I want to know first thing next time if you have a hot date!”

  Brielle raised her eyebrows. This felt awkward. It felt even more awkward when the guy smiled at her and winked before turning around.

  But nothing was as awkward as noticing the person the guy was actually talking to—Archer.

  Brielle stared. She wanted to nod or something or wave, but she was pretty sure she just stared.

  For one thing, he was still shirtless. And boy did that look good on him. He was just slightly sun-kissed, just the softest bit tanned. His chest muscles really had no business being that defined. And thanks to the sweat glistening off him, he looked like he’d been oiled down, ready for the taking.

  She might have bit her lip at the thought. But she was certainly still just staring.

  So it was no surprise he turned and started wheeling away a short while later.

  Brielle sighed and sat back down on the bench. It had been a little surprising when she’d sat down earlier and absentmindedly stared over at the court and found a guy in a wheelchair playing—and that guy being the one guy in a wheelchair she knew.

  Then again, it wasn’t that surprising. She’d driven there—even though if she were being honest, she definitely could have walked from her house, except there weren’t sidewalks or paths the entire way and she hadn’t felt like walking in traffic in her frame of mind—and she knew it was a short distance from his condo complex. Much closer to his condo than to her house even—and when she thought about it, she was sure there was even a sidewalk leading to it. But she honestly, totally wasn’t hoping or expecting to find him when she’d set out for it.

  She’d just wanted some fresh air and some peace of mind.

  She’d been in a great mood after another day of cleaning Archer’s without all of the awkwardness. Even Mrs. Tanaka has been downright pleasant to be around because her favorite cousin’s daughter had called her the night before or something—Brielle wasn’t even sure, as she’d only been able to half-hear her over the sound of the vacuum and the scrubbing.

  By the time she’d gotten back home to Nora grumpily draining a pot of noodles in the kitchen and her mom on the phone with one of her employees at the kitchen table, Brielle was ready for her first weekend post-college to be amazing. She had to clean Archer’s place, sure, but that wasn’t such a bad thing anymore. And then she’d be free to catch up on shows she’d missed because of finals and packing and every other crazy thing from the past few weeks and maybe she’d even spend some time reading—she hadn’t read for fun in forever—and waste time online and see how the gang was doing after their first full week of “real” adulthood (although Pembroke still hadn’t answered her—the thought of her ignoring everyone was a bit of a downer).

  Nora slammed the pot on the glass plate protecting the counter. “On. War. Path,” she said as she flicked the stovetop fan off.

  Brielle cocked her head, but Nora just shook the strainer of noodles back into the pot and crossed her arms, sulking against the cupboard and staring daggers at their mom.

  Their mom put her hand over the speaker on her phone. “Girls! The sauce!”

  Nora groaned as if she’d been asked to pick up an axe and chop firewood for the household as she flicked the burner with the sauce pan off and carefully lifted the cover to stick the mixing spoon in. She shouted and shook her hand when a bit of bubbling sauce spurt at her despite her efforts. She smashed the cover back on and tossed the spoon at the spoon rest, getting sauce everywhere. “I’m not even hungry,” she snapped, rinsing her fingers in the sink.

  Their mom laughed on the phone, oblivious to the mini drama show her youngest was putting on several feet from her. “Okay. All right then. Thank you, Deena.” She hung up and dropped the phone on the table, her face suddenly ashen as she massaged her temples.

  Brielle dropped her purse by the hallway to the bedrooms and removed her half-apron. “Something wrong?”

  Nora leaned over the counter beside the sink and examined her nails, probably looking for damage from the sauce incident. “There’s always something wrong in the ever-so-exciting world of indentured servitude.”

  Their mom looked up, gesticulating widely above her head. “Nora, I’ve had it up to here with your attitude today.”

  Nora scoffed and raised her hands out to either side. “Then why would you want me here all summer when I can be out of your hair for a month and a half?”

  “I’ve explained this to you. One, we don’t have the money to spare for that camp—”

  “God, you’re acting like I’m off to a camp for drug addicts instead of wanting to do something to better my life. Lita understood and said she’d pay for half of it!”

  Brielle almost forgot that Nora still video chatted with their grandmother—their father’s mother—in Puerto Rico on occasion. She used to herself, but she hadn’t in ages. She hadn’t really had the interest in it. Their dad was never involved, just their abuelita.

  Their mom stood up from the table. “No. Oh, no. I’m not asking that poor woman to chip in for anything. She has enough to deal with cleaning up your father’s messes.”

  “Again, Mom! Again with the cutting down Dad!”

  Their mom grabbed the pot of noodles and dropped it on the table. “You don’t know the half of what happened between your father and me—”

  Nora grabbed the pan of sauce and tossed it down on the table next to the pot of noodles, droplets of sauce splaying out at the rough handling. The splatter made it seem as if someone nearby had been punched in the nose and had spurted blood everywhere. “Oh, I’ve heard plenty about it from Lita!”

  Their mom opened her mouth and seemed about to speak but closed her eyes a moment, holding up her index finger. “I don’t want to get into this with you, Nora.”

  “You act like he was a wife beater, but he wasn’t!”

  “I never said he abused me!”

  “Lita said you lied about that and that was why Dad left!”

  Brielle could almost feel her heart thump out of her chest. Had this been going on all the time since she’d gone to college? She didn’t remember things being quite so heated between her mom and sister whe
n she’d last been here for holidays or the previous summer.

  Their mom turned that pointer finger accusingly at Nora. “I never once said to anyone that your father beat me, and if your grandmother is saying that’s what he said, then one or both of them are liars! Which doesn’t surprise me!”

  “You don’t even know Lita! You never went to Puerto Rico to visit her, not even once, despite being married for nearly a decade!”

  “Your father didn’t want me to meet his family, probably because he was still married to a woman there and I didn’t even find out that our marriage was a sham until I’d been with him for eight years and had had two daughters!”

  Even though her mom had told Brielle the truth in private when she’d turned eighteen, it still kind of blew when shrieked like that at high volumes. She’d asked her mom if Nora knew, and she said she would wait until she was older. Brielle did not think this was the right moment for that revelation.

  Nora clenched her fists together at her sides. Her lip was shaking and tears were threatening to spill out from her eyes. “You’re lying! Lita said you were a liar!”

  Their mom crossed her arms. “Did she mention your father’s real wife to you?”

  “No, because you’re just a hateful, bitter old woman who just wants me to stay home so I can work as your slave like Bri does!”

  Brielle wasn’t sure that being in her late forties qualified their mom as an “old woman.” But as soon as she thought that, she realized she was being the adult in the room, and she wasn’t quite sure she was comfortable in that position.

  Their mom crossed her arms and bit her lip. She looked about to cry, too. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “Yeah, I do, and I’m going to that camp. You can kick me out of your house if you want to, but I won’t care. I’ll go live with Lita.”

  “In Puerto Rico?”

  Nora was already heading toward the hallway, the dinner uneaten. Their mom trailed after her. “Your grandmother has no legal right to you, and if you do run off to live with her, I can report you as a runaway and have you back here before you can blink!”