Stone Creek

by Davis, Lainey

  “That’s some blush you’ve got there, Hampton.” I blush deeper and raise my hands to my hot cheeks.

  “Let me see—is that maybe because of your hot date this weekend?”

  I shake my head. “Tim and I are just going to the banquet as friends.”

  “Is it like Gabe and I ‘just friends,’ or are you actually just friends with this one?” Julia stoops to put away a box of the plastic wrap we use to hold bags of ice in place on the athletes. “Cuz aren’t you ‘just friends’ with Baxter, too?”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek and look around to make sure everyone else is gone. “Ok, you cannot tell anyone this,” I tell her. “I haven’t told anyone this.”

  “Yes!” She claps her hands. “I am here for this. I am ready,” she says, hopping up on the table. She leans her elbows on her legs, chin in hands. “My lips are sealed.”

  I explain that I’m planning to get laid at the banquet. Julia looks confused. “It’s just that…” I hesitate. This is really new territory for me, but I had a lot of success opening up to the girls across the hall. I take a deep breath. “I’m a virgin still. I’d like to not be anymore. I just want to find someone who would be decent about it, you know?”

  Julia looks like she wants to say something, but holds back. “This isn’t where I thought this conversation was going,” she says. When I just look at her expectantly, she rolls her eyes. “I was sure you were going to ask me for advice finally jumping out of the friend zone with Baxter.”

  “Oh,” I say, feeling the flush again. And here I go remembering his hips thrusting against me on his couch last week. “We’re just friends,” I whisper. “Truly.”

  Julia sighs and reaches out to grab my hand. She gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Honey,” she says. “I’ve seen friends. I’ve seen family friends. And then I’ve seen Baxter Morgan look at you for years.”

  I shake my head. She squeezes my hand harder. “This isn’t a risk for you, Olive. The man is in love with you. In. Love. Also lust. Fiery lust.”

  “I just don’t think we can risk having something go wrong,” I tell her. She gestures for me to join her up on the table.

  “Olive,” she says. “Has anything gone wrong in your lives since Baxter’s been in it?”

  I recoil. “Um, basically everything,” I say, listing off his brother’s death, my parents basically kicking me out when I enrolled in college, his mother leaving. “Oh, his dad pretty much disowned him, too. He told him to never come back.”

  Julia whistles through her teeth. “Those are some pretty fucked up circumstances. It sounds to me like your relationship has already survived a lot of hard shit…what makes you think you can’t weather some hot sex, too?”

  I hadn’t considered things from this perspective before. “I have zero models for a healthy relationship in my life,” I tell her. “I don’t even know how to do that. And before you interrupt me, I don’t think Baxter and I have a healthy level of dependence.” I remind her how he comes over every night for my chicken nuggets and Mac n cheese. “I just wanted to see if having sex—with someone else!!—would help take the edge off.”

  She laughs. “Oh, you’ve got an edge, girl.” She shrugs. “I just don’t know if sex with any old athlete is gonna scratch that itch.”

  Saturday morning, I’m a mess of nerves. Tim is back to full strength and comes into the training room for one final treatment before his meet. I feel a swell of pride when the trainers make sure to include my name a number of times in the writeup in his file.

  “Excited for tonight?” He smiles warmly as he shakes out his long arms. I nod. He gestures toward the stands. “My parents came into town for the meet,” he says. “They wanted to meet you after…”

  “Oh,” I say, pausing. “Tim…I have to get to the football game after my shift. I’m so sorry.”

  His face falls a little. I grab his hand. “I’m the only family Baxter’s got. I’m headed over there as soon as I get you into your goggles.” I give him a hug for luck and agree to follow him into the pool so he can at least show me to his parents from the deck. He waves energetically, catching his parents’ attention. I wave and smile, timidly. Then he pecks me on the cheek before heading over to the team bench.

  I raise a hand to the spot where his lips met my skin, noting that his touch felt warm and familial. Definitely like a brother. Further contrast to the feelings I get whenever Baxter enters the same room as me.

  I stand by to watch as he takes the blocks and I smile when the buzzer sounds for his race to begin.

  As I walk to the football game, I keep thinking about Tim. I would love to have met his parents and talked with them about Tim’s progress this semester, health wise. He’s become a good friend and I enjoy talking to him. If only he’d given me some notice I could have arranged to meet his family for breakfast or something. Now I’m stuck feeling like I let him down, when making him happy would have meant letting Baxter down.

  Thankfully, I make it to the stadium in time for the game to start. I catch Baxter’s eye from the bench as I take my seat along his friends’ family members. Again, I feel a buzzing in my veins just looking at him.

  Eventually, I’ll find this spark with someone else, and I’ll know that Baxter will always be here for me, as a friend, as a confidant. As someone who knows my history.

  When he takes the field, I suck in my breath, waiting to see if his shoulder will impede his playing. I hear Scotty’s parents mention that there are scouts here from the pros.

  I know Baxter is feeling the pressure to perform, feeling like his whole life is on the line. I think he underestimates his other skills. Hell, Bax would have a great career in private security based on how he has treated me for the past 12 years. But I also want his dreams to come true for him. The opposing team quarterback receives the snap and drops back for the pass. I dig my fingers into my lap hoping maybe Alex and the linemen will sack the quarterback, but the pass is up.

  The wide receiver snatches it from the air and I see a blur of silver as Baxter streaks toward him. I can practically feel the collision as they both hit the ground, tackled out of bounds almost as soon as the player catches the ball. Is everyone else stuck in eternity to see if Baxter will rise, or is it just me? I focus on my breath, and then a cheer explodes from my mouth as he gets up and jogs back to his position.

  Baxter is back in business.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Olive

  I don’t stick around after the game to check on Bax. Justin and the staff can look out for him—I’m sure he’s feeling fine after the game because he sends me a huge smile from the bench as SCU seals up another win. I give him a wave, and then I sneak off to start getting ready.

  Tia and Elyse meet me at the dorms, excited about helping me perfect my look for tonight. In my heels, black skinny pants, a lacy cami, and a fitted black velvety jacket, I definitely feel sexy.

  The heels add to my height, while the tailored clothes accentuate my curves in a way that surprises me. Tia works on my makeup—giving me dark red lips and impossibly long lashes. They slick my hair back into a high ponytail and then they curl the tail. I look and feel elegant and sexy. Like Catwoman.

  We add in sparkling earrings and a chunky necklace to complete the look, and Tia whistles through her teeth. “Damn, girl. You could seduce me tonight if you wanted.” Elyse claps her hands and makes me do a little turn. I’ve never in my life spent this long getting ready before, but I have to admit this is amazing.

  Right on time, I get a call that I have a visitor at the front desk of our dorm, and the girls follow me down the hall to spy as I greet Tim. He stands by the doorman wearing a fitted tux, looking insanely hot in dark grey with a long skinny tie.

  He grins when he sees me, his eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline. I smile timidly, clutching the tiny black bag I brought with my phone and ID and some cash, just in case. Shaking himself back to the present, Tim stoops and plants a gentle kiss on my cheek. “You look beautifu
l,” he says.

  “So do you,” I reply, truthfully. Tim is a beautiful man. His facial features are noble, strong lines. He has impossibly long lashes, too—and I’m pretty sure he didn’t spend the afternoon getting them curled or using mascara. I slip my arm into the crook of his and we head out to his car for the banquet.

  The donor banquet is my favorite function every year, but it’s especially nice walking in on Tim’s arm. I love seeing all the athletes dressed to the nines. They all look slightly awkward in their formal wear, but their bodies are so elegant. It’s like a huge parade of glamorous people surrounded by a ring of their rich patrons eager to meet them. The two of us are definitely turning some heads, and it feels good to be seen this way. Most of the people in here have only ever seen me in khakis and an SCU polo shirt. As Tia said, tonight I’m reminding them I’m their trainer and a woman, too.

  There is a pretty short line of people wanting to meet SCU’s star swimmers, but Tim introduces me kindly to the athletic supporters. Most of them look like they still swim laps every day to stay in shape, decades after graduating. We chat about my future plans for grad school, and I’m stunned when one of the graying gentlemen hands me his card.

  “I’m on the kinesiology faculty in Ann Arbor,” he tells me, after listening to Tim brag about how I helped him with his sore back this season. “Shoot me an email and let’s talk about your plans.”

  Tim excuses himself to grab us some champagne as I stare at the card in amazement, feeling the warm glow of excitement replace my flutter of nerves about being here. Then I feel someone watching me, a sense of being stared at. I look up across the room to see Baxter, hanging out with the transfer quarterback, Kevan.

  Baxter is looking at me with an expression I haven’t seen from him before. He looks…wild.

  Tim returns with our drinks and clinks his glass against mine, drawing my attention back. “To connections,” he says, and I smile, watching as he looks up across the room.

  “Woah,” Tim says. “Is that your friend? That guy is fucking staring at you, Olive.”

  I don’t need to look back over my shoulder. “Yeah. I’m not sure what’s going on with Bax tonight. Want to go over and talk to him with me?”

  But Tim’s face changes to one of concern and I turn around. Kevan grabs Bax by the elbow and they lean close for a photograph. I see Tim squeezing the stem of his champagne flute. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he grunts, finishing his drink in one gulp. “Do you want another drink?”

  I haven’t even tasted my champagne yet. I look at Tim and shake my head, but he walks off to the bar. I decide to take a read of the room, searching for prospects. I catch the eye of Finnegan and Scotty and smile, heading their direction. I wave and walk their way, noticing their jaws drop.

  “Olive?” Scotty is having the exact reaction I’d hoped for. I know I can’t go for one of Bax’s roommates, but I can tell that he thinks I look good in a non-friendly type of way. I feel satisfied and take a swig of my champagne. And then, of course, I cough when the bubbles hit my throat.

  Tim approaches us with a glass of something dark and he puts a hand on my waist. Catching Scotty noticing, I say, “Guys, this is my friend Tim. From swimming?”

  Neither Scotty nor Finnegan says a word, both just staring at me with Tim. I’m about to ask if they’ve seen Baxter, but Tim looks away. “Hey,” he says. “You want to grab an appetizer or something?”

  “I’ll catch you guys later I guess,” I say to Baxter’s roommates. They nod without saying anything, continuing to stare at me while Tim pulls me toward tables of cheese and crackers. He seems so sullen as he swigs his drink. I can’t figure him out today. This morning he wanted me to meet his parents, and now he is stiff and grouchy and half drunk.

  “Hey,” I say, touching his arm. “Is something wrong?”

  I offer him a plate with some crackers on it, but he shakes his head. “I can’t eat bread in season,” he says, downing the rest of the drink, then grabbing yet another from a tray nearby.

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” I feel sheepish. I know Bax watches what he eats, too, but his concern seems to be with adding weight to his frame.

  “It’s fine,” Tim says, but he keeps looking over toward the football players.

  Not sure what else to do or what exactly I did wrong, I nibble a piece of cheese, and then yelp as Tim leans in for a kiss. I stiffen. “What the hell?”

  “Come on, Olive, let me kiss you.”

  My mouth full of cheese, I draw my head back. This is not going as planned. “What is going on, Tim?” He keeps leaning toward me, sloshing a bit of his drink on my suit jacket. “Crap.”

  “Aw, shit, Olive. I’m sorry.” Tim moves to try to blot the wet spot on my jacket, but he’s drunk already and he just smears the liquid around.

  “Hey,” I say. “It’s ok, but I’m going to find the restroom, all right?” Tim nods, pulling his hands through his hair and then straightening out his tie. “Why don’t you go hang with your teammates while I’m gone?”

  I don’t look up to see if he joins the swim team. I need to find the bathroom before my borrowed clothes get ruined.

  I see the sign for the restroom on the far end of the room, and I walk faster, my heels pounding out a staccato beat on the wooden dance floor. As I reach for the handle of the bathroom, I feel someone coming up behind me.

  I sense him, and as I turn, he’s there. Baxter, his eyes dancing with concern and…something more. “Liv,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Bax

  Coming to this banquet was a total mistake. First, everyone tries to make a big damn deal that I’m here with Kevan, like that’s so fucking different than all the years I brought Olive as a friend. So far, coming here with a dude is way easier than bringing Olive. No temptation that I’ll do something I regret. No worries about getting her home safe.

  I smiled with all the big money donors and promised to sign autographs after draft weekend. I was feeling all right.

  But then Olive shows up looking like sex on heels. I didn’t even know she could look that way. Like…she looks fucking sexy and I don’t like a single thing about it. I don’t like Tim’s arm around her shoulders introducing her to smarmy donors. I don’t like Tim not looking at her like he wants to lick every inch of her, and I don’t like it when he smiles at her. There’s basically no way for Tim to come out of this alive.

  What is wrong with me that I don’t want Olive to be happy? It’s actually not that I don’t want that for her. I just don’t think any of the assholes who have shown interest are good enough for her. Who even is this guy? Tim is frowning across the room at me like he wants to kill me.

  Guess the feeling’s mutual.

  Bottom line, I’m in Olive’s life, so anyone lucky enough to win her attention better be damn happy to get me in the package deal.

  Kevan nudges me and I realize I’m totally tuning everyone out. A few alumni from SCU have ownership shares in different pro teams around the country and Kevan’s got me chatting with some big-shot from Detroit. Only I can’t even concentrate because the last time I stared over at Olive, she looked upset.

  Kevan’s talking about today’s game—JT’s thumb is still fucked up so Kevan played the whole time—and he drapes an arm around my shoulders, talking about how many tackles I had in the second half. It’s true. I had a good fucking game. Olive was there the whole time, smiling. Supporting me. Everything clicked. As I slap Kevan on the back, I turn to look for Olive again, wanting to smile at her instead of just glower at her sexy pants. Only there’s nothing happy about what I see.

  She looks like she’s about to cry and she’s hurrying across the room. “Excuse me, sir,” I say to the Detroit guy. “My friend seems upset.” I don’t wait to see what he says, just tear off after Olive. I’m pretty sure Kevan is following me, but I don’t care. All that matters right now is making sure Olive is ok. Then I can dismantle whoever gave her that f
rown.

  I catch up to her just as she reaches for the bathroom door. I make contact with her arm and I know it’s going to be fine. I’m here with her now. “Liv,” I say, quietly, hoping to reassure her. “What’s wrong?”

  But I don’t get to hear her answer. She shrieks as someone shoves me hard from behind. As I catch my balance, I whip around to see her date, looking glassy-eyed and sloppy. “Fuck you, asshole,” he says, like it’s the first time he’s strung that set of words together. “Fuck you!”

  I raise a brow at him. Why the hell is he mad at me? “Fuck me? Fuck me?” I step into his space. He’s about the same height as me, but I’ve got 100 pounds on him, easy. “What in the actual hell is your problem?”

  Tim reaches for my lapels and tries to shake me, his face red with fury. “He’s mine,” he says. This guy is making zero sense right now and frankly, I don’t even want to fight with him.

  I check to make sure Olive is a safe distance away from this guy, and I look over to see she’s sort of backed up against the bathroom door. That’s when Tim draws his arm back to take a swing at me.

  The guy wails, “He’s MINE” again as his wild punch glances off my shoulder and he winds up punching the wall, and then he crumples to the floor, writhing in pain.

  Before I can make sense of any of this, Kevan curls over Tim, looking at him like—well, like I look at Olive. She’s standing at the end of the hall with her mouth hanging open. “Tim,” Kevan whispers, trying to soothe the swimmer. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  Tim just groans and tries to grab at his right arm, which looks funny inside his suit. He moans and shakes his head, rocking back and forth on the ground. “What did you do,” Kevan asks, his eyes flashing up at me. I just stand there with my palms up.