Dolce (Love at Center Court #2)

by Rachel Blaufeld

  She shook her head. “I’m going to shoot a few extra clips for Frank tonight when I leave here, and then I may take tomorrow off.” She ran her red-tipped nails through her straight hair, tucking it behind an ear as she let out a long sigh. Pulling me into a hug, she said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, help us justify our choice to the rest of the world.”

  “Hey, don’t get all sappy on me.” I squeezed her tight.

  She laughed and we parted, both of us grabbing coffee and joining the other girls.

  We sat around for an hour discussing where the women saw themselves going in the long term.

  “I’m just paying my way through school, but part of me wants to be discovered. I kind of like it,” Brittany quietly admitted. “I feel like I’m in charge of my destiny, self-sufficient.”

  “What’s your degree in? Journalism?” I lifted my mug of coffee to my lips.

  She nodded. “Yep. In fact, I think I’ll look for an internship at Playboy or Esquire, somewhere like that.”

  I felt a weird sense of pride at her courage to make her own choices, choose her own destiny.

  “Me, I’m gonna bank as much money as I can and open a little boutique,” Chantae said. “Scarves like this and hair ornaments. Probably African jewelry and maybe some art.”

  “Where? Here?” Sarina asked, a worried look on her face.

  “I’m not leaving you, babe.” Chantae winked at her.

  “You’re my family,” Sarina admitted. “All of you. This little gang. If you go, what will I do?”

  There was something else to consider when writing all this up. The network these women had formed gave them bonds stronger than most I had ever experienced. They not only were a support system of friends, but were also sisters, caregivers, and protectors.

  “Mich and I are going to try to start our own web TV thing,” Tish said. “We’re going to do something with gay men, I think.”

  “Get out!” I blushed at the idea, but since I’d been so affected by porn, maybe gay men were too.

  Hmmm? I would google that.

  We laughed for the last half hour, the girls teasing me about Blane.

  “Our girl’s got her a good one,” they joked.

  At four thirty, they all filed out to do what they needed, and I texted Blane.

  CATIE: You still watching tape? I’m going to make dinner.

  I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like that’s what couples did, touched base on the minutia of their day.

  A tendril of anxiety curled around my heart while I waited to hear back from him. When I got no response, which wasn’t like Blane, I told myself he was busy with the team, and tried not to make it into something bigger than it was.

  A lonely package of mac and cheese called to me from the cabinet, so I scrapped any plans I had to do something fancier. Nothing better than processed cheese on a winter’s night.

  With my belly full of pasta, a while later I sat down at my laptop and banged out about twenty-five pages of what I had learned. So far, I had close to a hundred pages of the book I planned to either shop around to a publisher or self-publish. The title was Feminist Choice or Choice of Feminism.

  I’d considered using a pen name, maybe Ariel Something, but tossed that idea out. This mission was mine, and I decided to tie my real name to the whole wagon. I’d also sent out some feelers regarding transferring to another school. It was time. I was doing this, raising my flag as the ambassador of adult-movie stars.

  And if Blane’s silence wasn’t enough of a reminder, my lack of a major was.

  I had an abundance of choice, right? With several dozen credits toward my degree, some money in the bank, and a promising part-time career as a barista, I had more choice than most women with only a GED or high school diploma. Although there was no escaping the fact that my savings was from filming porn. Even with all my choices, I needed the industry to get ahead . . . so there was that little fact.

  At midnight, my phone pinged.

  BLANE: Sorry I can’t make it. I just finished with the team.

  That’s all he wrote. No promise of a rain check or confirmation of meeting his mom this weekend.

  I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. My phone pinged with an e-mail a few minutes later, but I ignored it. With my mind unsettled, I drifted off to a fitful sleep.

  Blane

  My cock was semi-hard and ready to go again when I arrived at the field house for our team meeting. Damn, Cate could give a blow job; the way she grabbed my balls had me so revved up.

  Honestly, I’d meant to spend more time with her at Chantilly, but Alex had ruined that idea. Maybe not entirely, I thought, because look what happened after stealing that cake and getting the hell out of Dodge. Christ, that cake came in handy.

  I was looking forward to hurrying back to Cate’s place when I entered the locker room.

  “Put it away,” someone said, and a loud, “Shut it off,” came next. The guys were huddled on the couch, all eyes on me.

  “What the fuck?” I joked, trying not to be unnerved by the intensity of their stares. “Do I have something stuck in my teeth?”

  Ashton shook his head and stood up.

  “What the hell?” I said as I took off my coat and tossed it on the bench. “Are you guys having some gay combine or what? I’m not a homophobe, but seriously, can we stop canoodling and get this meeting over with?”

  “Steele, I don’t want to be the one to show this to you, but someone is going to,” Alex said from the couch as he opened the laptop.

  Mo punched him. “Dude, I thought we agreed to let it go until after the game tomorrow.”

  “Come here,” D said, sighing as he beckoned me over.

  Trying to make fun of their seriousness, I walked over to the couch and perched on the arm of it. “You guys are whacked.”

  Alex gave me a sad look. “You know how someone said they’d seen a porn star at our games?” His voice was strange, all slow and calm as if he were talking to a mental patient.

  “No.” I shrugged. “Where? When? Who?”

  “On Twitter,” Ashton said. “Her name’s Ariel Stone; she’s new. She doesn’t get all raunchy, but she’s sexy as all get-out. Curvy and shit. Big tits—”

  Mo punched Ashton in the arm, interrupting him.

  “Get to the point,” I said abruptly, losing patience with this shit. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Ash averted his eyes. “She’s made a name for herself for letting men come all over her chest.”

  “Great, and she’s a fan?”

  “Yes. She’s a fan, and a bit more,” D said.

  “Gimme that.” I grabbed the laptop from Ashton and set it on my lap.

  There was a video paused, so I hit PLAY and a cheesy music track came on, something that was supposed to be sexy. A man leaned over a couch, a side view that showed his naked ass pumping back and forth as he jacked himself off on a woman.

  The room around me went totally silent as I watched the camera pan over the woman’s tits and across her jawline toward her eyes. She looked familiar. Her skin was flawless, her tits plump, and her face was somewhat obscured under big auburn waves . . . but the eyes were the same ones that had stared up at me earlier today.

  I shut my eyes and reopened them, hoping it would be a prank, but there was Cate dressed up as some Ariel chick, moaning as a dude whacked off all over her chest.

  Stunned, I looked at up and realized everyone had abandoned the couch. The guys stood huddled by the lockers, shifting nervously in place as they watched me.

  I jumped to my feet and tossed the computer to the floor. It clattered and spun against the table before landing on the carpet. “Who showed you this?”

  They stood there silently, not a fucking peep out of a one of them.

  “What the fuck? Someone answer,” I yelled.

  “Sonny called me,” Ashton finally said, lines of regret creasing his face.

  Confused, I reached for my sweatband and ripped it off, grim
acing as strands of my hair came with it. “Why? What’s it to him?”

  “Well, he was dating someone and now he’s not, and every dude kept calling in about this chick, so he decided to google her,” Ashton explained. He was leaning against his locker, looking loose and relaxed, but I knew he was waiting to pounce on me if I went to hit him.

  “Why did he call you? Why did he have to ruin the one good thing I have? I like her . . .” Devastated, I sat back down on the couch, and dropped my head into my hands.

  “Let’s go!” Conley’s voice bellowed through the locker room.

  Mo put a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got to go to the meeting. You don’t want him to find out about this.”

  I stood on weak legs, swaying for a second before I followed him. I might as well have had spent the day doing weighted squats. But I sat through the meeting, going through the motions, nodding my head at the right times as I watched the tape, but I didn’t really see it. My mind was on overdrive.

  I guessed Cate didn’t need to explain her secret project anymore. Part of me wondered why she was doing it, and the other half didn’t give a fuck. If Sonny knew this shit, I gave him a day to keep it to himself. Soon it would be everywhere, and the whole fucking world would be watching my girl get her titties fucked.

  Coach dismissed us, and I walked in a daze back to the couch in the locker room.

  “Dude, best to learn this now and cut ties up front,” D said. “League is coming for you, and you can’t be linked to the campus porn star.”

  Sad thing was, I didn’t care what the league thought. I cared about sharing Cate with every other man in America.

  She was supposed to be mine.

  Catie

  Blane didn’t touch base on Friday, and I couldn’t help but feel used and spit out. He must have been busy with game-day preparations and grabbing his mom from the airport, but something didn’t feel right. Had he used me?

  Sonny called and asked me to cover a few hours at the station, and I accepted. I thought it was odd, but if he needed help, I’d take the shift. I needed a distraction, so I grabbed a coffee and took the bus over to campus.

  When I arrived at the station, Sonny was laughing into the mic, discussing romantic Valentine’s Day dates with a caller. Michael Jackson’s “PYT” played softly in the background, and Sonny laughed like a hyena when the caller said pizza and a movie rental was romantic.

  “Dude, you need to go to the bookstore right now and buy Dating for Dummies,” Sonny was saying into the mic as I entered the booth. “Look who just showed up—my old intern, Catie P. She might have some movie recs for you. Hmmm, one sec, let me show her this quick clip and I’ll be back with her suggestions.” He turned the volume up slightly on the music and hit PLAY on the laptop in front of him.

  There I was on the screen, Rick coming all over my cleavage and rubbing it into my skin. I stared at it like it was a bad hallucination, a figment of my imagination and a horrendous mistake. It was someone else, Sonny had to be mistaken.

  Sadly, he wasn’t.

  Embarrassment swept over me, sending heat over my entire body. Ready to run away, I turned to find Sonny glaring at me.

  I’m gonna get you for this, he mouthed before he grabbed the mic.

  “Turns out Catie has so many recs, she’s going to make a list right now. While she does, I’m going to play some tunes. How about a little Macklemore? ‘Downtown,’ you like to go there? Don’t you? Down? Get it?”

  Sonny smacked the button, turning off the mic, and swiveled toward me. I was trapped in the booth; he’d slid his chair in front of the door, eliminating my escape route.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demanded.

  “Me?” He pointed at his chest with his thumb, as if surprised I would question his motives.

  Narrowing his eyes, he laid into me. “I took you back here as an employee, and now I find out you’re fucking any dick . . . on camera. Fuck, I’m sure you’ve violated a million different school policies, but fucking Christ, I can’t whack off to my intern, Blane’s lady. Whole fucking school is talking about Ariel Stone and her tits of wonder, so I chanced a look. Nearly poked my eyes out when I realized it was you.”

  All at once, Blane’s absence and my niggling worry clicked.

  I gaped at Sonny. “You told him?”

  It wasn’t even a question. Blane’s silence spoke volumes. He knew. Sonny was the one who told him.

  Not waiting for an answer, I ran from the booth, straight through the building and out the door as tears threatened to break free. They fell as I burst through the exit and hit the cold winter air, burning as they froze on my cheeks. My vision blurry, I searched desperately for a corner where I could hide. I spun in a circle, wetness covering my face.

  I knew it would happen eventually, that Blane would find out. I’d just hoped it would be after I transferred and he had won the championship.

  “Catie, is that you?” a voice called from behind me.

  I froze in place for a second, wanting to escape, to disappear, but I turned around.

  “Shelby, it’s not a good time.” Frowning, I brushed the back of my hand over my face and sniffed back snot. I probably looked like a mental patient.

  She gave me a concerned look. “What’s going on? I haven’t seen you in forever. Tess said you texted that you were working on a paper and busy dating the basketball player. Did he hurt you?”

  “Shelby, really, I’m fine, but I have to get out of here.” I straightened my posture and attempted to look like I had my shit together.

  I’m anything but that. And what’s it to her, anyway?

  “Can we chat later?” I asked, pleading with my eyes as well.

  Shelby wasn’t taking the hint. Wrapping her arm around me, she said, “Why don’t you come back to my room?” She steered us toward the dorms, whispering something about hot cocoa, and we both startled when a car pulled up to a screeching stop just ahead of us.

  Not a car, but a truck. Blane’s pickup.

  “Cate, wait. I’m sorry I blew you off. I needed time to process,” he yelled, jumping out of the truck and running back toward us.

  “Leave me alone,” I spat back. “Please don’t make a scene.”

  Out of breath, Blane skidded to a halt in front of me. “Sonny texted me and told me it was minutes away from spreading all through campus. He’s sending it viral. I had to find you.”

  “What’s going on?” Shelby stood next to me, holding my arm protectively as Blane and I squared off.

  “You could have come to me,” I muttered, “had the decency to say you saw it to my face.”

  “I didn’t know what to say,” he said, his voice contrite. “And I was mad.”

  “I had my reasons for doing it, and this is exactly why I didn’t want to reunite with you. Or whatever we’re doing.” I sounded like an idiot, blubbering and using words that didn’t even work with the context. Reunite?

  “Cate, I realized you must’ve had your reasons, and I want to hear them.”

  He reached for my hand as he approached slowly but I backed up, taking Shelby with me.

  “Let’s go,” she whispered in my hair. It was blowing wildly in the wind, reflecting my manic mood. “We’re making a scene.”

  “Let me take her,” Blane insisted to Shelby, coming closer.

  I shook my head. “The jig is up. We’re done. Go do what you need to do. Buy your mom a house, sign a deal, forget me.”

  I tugged on Shelby’s coat sleeve and forced her to walk away with me. Her arm wrapped around my shoulders, and she glared back at Blane before tightening her grip on me.

  Once we got back to her dorm, I spilled it all. What I had been up to and why, my plans to write a tell-all, and how Sarina had taken me under her wing to help me.

  Shelby held true to her promise and made cocoa, rubbing my back while I took sips and defended my position. Once I was done, she shook her head.

  “To me,” she said, “it sounds like you gave up your perso
nal happiness to prove these women’s plight.”

  I cocked my head and stared her down. Really? She was going to go there?

  “I don’t know. Sounds pretty selfless, babe, a sign of a true feminist. Putting other women’s rights and needs first,” Shelby said, finishing her thought.

  “Yeah?” I asked through tears. I seemed to have an endless supply of them.

  “Yeah.” She gave me a small smile as she swiped a thumb over my cheek, and then ran her finger over my shoulder where she knew my tattoo rested. “Why are you shutting out Steele?”

  I shrugged, looking away. “He doesn’t need this, and you saw his face. He’s disgusted with me.”

  “It looked more like disappointment from where I was standing. Maybe he genuinely cares?”

  Shelby lay back on the bed and pulled me into her arms, running a soothing hand over my back as if I were a small child. If one good thing came out of this whole debacle, it was that I’d developed a sisterhood.

  “He’s going to play professional basketball,” I mumbled. “He doesn’t need to have his reputation tarnished by a girlfriend who made a few pornos. I know I had to do it. It makes my stance stronger, but still. He needs to move on, and really . . . what were we? Friends who messed around a few times?”

  “Is that all you were?”

  I sighed. “We made each other laugh, and he was so sweet despite that rep he has. I don’t know, we’d become very good friends, I guess.”

  She smoothed my hair behind my ear. “That’s it?”

  “There was a definite attraction.” My throat tightened. “But that was all before he knew. Why would he want to touch me now?”

  “Maybe we should call him and hear him out. It’s private here.”

  I shook my head. “No, one day when the tears stop, I’ll look back on this year and say, ‘That was the year I loved a basketball player.’ But now it’s over, and I need to do what I set out to do.”