Tim and Ally had gotten a sitter for their girls, and Ian and Sarah were coming. Maggie was the tagalong I wasn’t complaining about, for reasons unknown to anyone other than the girl who’s brains I was going to screw out after the game. Our manager had booked our box seats.
I planted my ass in the first row, making sure I was able to see the game. As per usual, I was the only one taking a seat instead of standing at the top, snacking, drinking, and talking. Tim liked to stay out of the view of the jumbotron, Ian would deal with the games and sometimes join me to watch them, but with Sarah there, his focus would be on her.
“Which team are you going for?” Maggie plopped down beside me, handing me one of the two bottles of beer in her hands.
“Thanks.” I tipped the beer toward her and took a swig. “I’m not really rooting for one over another. Just hoping for a fast and rough game.”
“Ah, you want to see some fists fly?”
“Preferably.” I chuckled. “It would certainly make for an entertaining evening.”
“Is that the only thing that would make for an entertaining evening?” Maggie’s eyes widened slightly with her question, before raising the bottle to her mouth and managing a slow, seductive, pull. I fought the temptation to press my lips to her throat, to feel her swallow and then follow the liquid down.
“Who knows.” I wink, turning my suddenly distracted mind from her to the game.
Maggie stayed by my side for most of the game, rising only to grab a plate of food, another beer, or run to the washroom. For all of the time we had spent together, behind closed doors, I had no idea she was interested in hockey, but hearing her shout at the refs for a missed call or at the forwards for not using their D, I was ready to lay her down and fuck her for everyone in the box to witness. As it was, if anyone had been paying attention to us, they would have realized I was so enamored with this girl that something more than just having a common set of friends was going on. Later, I’d show her my appreciation.
I snuck out of Maggie’s hotel room at four in the morning, after giving her three pretty good fucking reasons to remember I found her hockey acumen hot as hell. I bailed before I crashed, not that we hadn’t spent the full night together, but it was usually out of necessity and given that I had a room just down the hall, sharing a bed was anything but.
Crawling into the expansive king bed, I was covered with cold sheets compared to the warm ones I’d just spent hours heating up in Maggie’s room. I pulled out my phone. Not that there would be much to catch up on, but it had become a routine. Social media was always the precursor to the media’s releases. It was worth a few minutes to scroll through.
I wasn’t thirty seconds into my scan when photos of Maggie and I started popping up everywhere. The two of us sitting comfortably close and alone in the front row of the box seats. If having the two of us together wasn’t enough, some of the shots caught me looking at her, the private moments when I was consumed with the woman sitting beside me, both for what was going on in the moment and what I was planning to do to her afterward.
Maggie was going to kill me when she saw this. The guys were going to realize that things between Maggie and me, well, that there was something between us. And after the warnings from Tim, shit wasn't going to end well. Because, even though Maggie and I wanted the same thing, sex and nothing more, the look on my face in these pictures, the closeness of our bodies, every single inch of the photos, displayed something way more serious than just sex.
The urge to run back to Maggie’s room to explain the photos was strong. I had to make her understand that the pictures were a stroke of luck. Someone taking the shot at the exact perfect moment, using the camera to trick the eye into seeing something that wasn’t there. There was no stopping the media circus that would come from the entire world viewing these images. She didn’t need a front-row seat to the chaos that was my life, but I held back and stayed put. If I went to her, if I made this seem like a big deal, then she would see through it. That there was something behind what happened in that arena and there was no such thing as trick angles or perfect moments because to be honest, those stares lasted for more than mere seconds and occurred more often than I care to admit.
Those photographers caught something I wasn’t willing to admit. Something that I had to deny, even when it was staring me straight in the face. Maggie and I were sex. Maggie and I were orgasms. Maggie and I were fleeting, and nothing would ever change that.
Chapter 9
Rough Waters
Maggie
The damn photos are probably what drove me to do what I never do – agree to a blind date. I’ll be the first to admit that seeing the pictures plastered across social media of Justin and me at the hockey game, sent me straight into panic mode. That panic mode sent me straight into a spiral, one that ended with me agreeing to a date. For once, I was going to try something different. My old mantra was broken. I was walking into my blind date with my eyes wide open.
The lucky sucker was the older brother of my work-friend Katie. From the information she had shared, his name was Myles and he had just moved back to Texas after spending five years in New York, learning the ropes as a junior reporter for an online news site. The bachelor was twenty-eight, single, no kids, no pets, no debt, no baldness, no beer gut, no baggage, a man with tons of plusses. Nerves stirred in my stomach as I walked into the restaurant to meet him. Hell, he was hot too. Myles might not be so bad.
“So, you work with Katie?” Myles pulled out my chair, very much a southern gentleman.
“Yep. Have for a few years now.” My eyes followed Myles as he rounded the table and took a seat across from me. I wasn’t used to the awkward get-to-know each other phase of dating. My typical M.O. was to skip the scripted beginning of a date and dive right into the good part. But it was time to break the mold. With Myles, I was ready for a relationship based on more than just sex. The photos with Justin forced me to confront how reckless I’d become.
“Are you in HR as well?”
“No. Accounting.” The waitress approached our table with two black, leather menus.
“Do you prefer red or white?” Myles questioned, opening to the drink menu and scanning through the list of wines.
“Red, please.” He ordered a bottle and turned his attention to me. “Accounting, huh? Numbers aren’t my thing, but I can see the draw.”
“I’m sure my work is boring compared to what you do. Chasing stories would be exciting. Something new every day.”
“You would be surprised. It isn’t quite as glamorous as it sounds. Most of my time is spent waiting for leads or following up on stories that are nothing more than filler. At least that’s how it was in New York. Now that I’m here, and there are fewer reporters working for the paper, I’m hoping that I’ll be able to focus on stories that interest me.”
“Oh, that’s right. Katie had mentioned you were just starting a job in the city. Are you commuting? Or moving closer to your office?” First time meeting the guy, and I already wanted the answer to be commuting. I had nothing riding on this, yet I was invested in his answer.
“I’ll be commuting. At least for the time being. My parents have an apartment over their garage, so I’m staying there until I’m settled in. That will buy me some time to figure out exactly what my plans are. Plus, there’s the added bonus of not having to worry about anything if I have to travel for work. Not that I’m expecting to need to often.”
“Makes sense.” Despite my response, I grimaced at the fact that his living arrangement equated to a grown-ass adult man living at home. Strike one. Queue the red flag. Justin didn’t live at home. He never even mentioned his parents. Ever. Wait, was that weird? Did he even visit them? Maybe they weren’t close. It’s not as if I were in a place to judge. The name of the woman who birthed me no longer crossed my lips.
Myles must have read my mind because his response hit the right mark. “I know it sounds a bit geeky, my living at home. But I swear, my place is super private. A
nd I’m a bit of a momma’s boy, so after being away for so many years, I like being close to her.”
“It’s all good. I totally get it, especially where you’ve just come back home. Besides, I live in an apartment complex where people constantly stomp on the floor above me and anytime someone makes curry, the scent wafts through the vents and it’s all I can smell for days. I’m sure your set-up is a million times better.”
“So, aside from spending forty hours a week as an accountant working with my sister, what else makes up Maggie Allen?” The waitress returned to the table with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Myles and I ordered our meals and waited for the waitress to leave the table before continuing our conversation.
“Hmmm, well besides work, I like fashion, so I spend more time than I probably should browsing social media looking at the newest trends and passing judgment on red carpet photos. I travel a bit, mostly to visit my best friend who lives out of state. When I have the chance, I’ll fly out to see a concert here and there with another friend of mine.” Or any time that the guys were close enough that I could show up without raising suspicions. An unexpected pang of guilt struck at the thought of Justin. Guilt was the last thing I should feel. For all I knew, he was probably bending some random roadie over whatever flat surface he could find backstage while I sat across from Myles in the restaurant.
“What bands do you go see?” Myles probed before taking a sip from the thin stemmed glass filled with blood-red liquid.
“Oh, it’s almost always Hazed actually.”
“Hazed, huh? That wasn’t the answer I was expecting.” Myles chuckled. “I didn’t picture you as the type of girl who listens to heavy rock. They must be your favorite band.”
“I guess you could say that.” I laughed at the thought. Were they my favorite band? I guess in some ways they had grown on me over the years. Maybe they were my favorite band. When had that happened? “It’s kind of a long story. I’m friends with the guys in the band. Most of the time, we go more to hang out than for the music, but you just made me realize their music has somehow grown on me.”
“You’re friends with the band?” His eyebrows raised in doubt.
“I swear, I’m not pulling your chain. Or name dropping. I was just trying to explain.” I sputtered, my face turning an unattractive shade of pink.
“I’m only kidding. That’s pretty cool. I’ve never known anyone famous.”
“Moving on to another topic…” I sipped my wine and followed his lead, “What makes up Myles Brown?”
The conversation flowed seamlessly through two bottles of wine, our entrees, and a massive piece of chocolate cake that we shared. The evening ended with sweet, soft kisses and the promise of a second date and phone calls. To my surprise, I was looking forward to both.
Myles didn’t waste time reaching out to schedule a second date. The opportunity to see where multiple dates could lead was exciting for once. When he asked for my thoughts on where to go, I kept things simple, opting for a few drinks on a Thursday night. A weeknight was a safe option, knowing work would be calling my name in the morning, it would limit us to a couple of drinks and an early night.
Date number two took place at a hole-in-the-wall pub a couple of blocks away from my apartment. Options were limited in our small town and neither of us were interested in venturing into the city. Myles grabbed us a wooden booth hidden in the back corner before making his way to the bar to order our drinks. The place was dark and quiet. Perfect for privacy and the chance to talk without the creepy regular patrons listening in on our conversation. We talked and talked and talked, for three hours! Three hours of randomness, with no direction or purpose. The whole thing was a foreign concept. Spending time with Myles, without being focused on ending the night with an orgasm, was as relaxed as hanging with the girls. Things were natural, no effort required. It was comfortable and date three was in the works before we even kissed goodnight.
Our third date was record-setting in my books. I’d never gone out with the same guy three times, excluding booty-calls. Myles was set on our date being a surprise and no matter how many guesses I tossed out or how many times I pleaded for clues, he didn’t give anything away. My only instructions were to dress comfortably and avoid heels. I paced my living room, waiting for Myles to pick me up, trying to tamper down my excitement. In all my life, no one had ever planned a surprise for me.
Myles had barely finished knocking before I swung open the door. My grin widened as I took in Myles’ six-foot frame, dark brown, buzz-cut hair, and dark brown eyes. The boy was gorgeous, in a boy-next-door kind of way. He couldn’t be compared to Justin, but then again not many could be, but he was well within the spectrum of guys I was attracted to.
“You ready to go?” Myles leaned down to place his lips on my cheek.
“YES!” I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”
“Not yet.” He winked. “But the sooner you get into the car, the sooner you’ll know.”
“Well, then get your ass moving.” I swatted his butt as I darted past him and out the door. Myles shut my door as I ran down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time before making a beeline for Myles’ car.
“You may be a little too excited about this. I hope you aren’t disappointed.” Myles unlocked the doors and we both climbed in.
“I can promise you that I will not be disappointed.” I shifted in the seat, anxious to find out what he had planned.
“I’ll hold you to that.” Myles reached across the car and took my hand in his. My stomach fluttered as I stared at our interlocked fingers. Something as simple as handholding wasn’t something I had much experience with.
Myles drove for twenty minutes, filling the time with updates on the projects he was working on and the articles he had written since our last date. I probably should have picked up the paper a time or two, you know, checked out Myles’ work, but that wasn’t my style. He might have appreciated the effort, but the idea made me uncomfortable. It was too soon to start creeping around, but I could give him my attention when he explained, in too many details, what it was he was doing.
The car pulled into the parking lot of an indoor mini-golf course. “We’re playing golf?”
“Is that okay? I thought it would be fun.”
“Of course, it’s okay. Although I’ve never played before so this could be interesting.”
Myles laughed, “I don’t know if many people could be classified as good when it comes to mini-golf. Trust me, you’ll be fine.” The look on my face must have given away my uncertainty. “Besides, it’s glow in the dark. It’s almost pitch-black in there. No one will notice if you don’t play well, unless your glowing neon ball smokes someone in the head, and if that happens, we’ll just find someplace to hide.”
“Sounds like a plan to me. We may need to practice our duck and cover technique. I’m thinking we may need to deploy our strategy once or twice.”
“God, you’re cute.” Myles leaned across the console of the car and pressed his lips against mine. “Ready to go sink some balls?”
“Sure am.”
My expectations were up in the air even as Myles paid for our round of golf. We were handed short golf clubs and a pink and yellow neon ball. I snatched the yellow one, leaving Myles with the bright pink. It took a couple of holes for me to get the hang of how to angle the balls to avoid taking ten putts to sink the ball. Myles let me learn by explaining instead of being a walking cliché and using his body to show me. By the sixth hole, I out stroked Myles, sinking the ball with two puts while he took four. Unable to contain my excitement, I jumped up and down in celebration, dancing with the putter still in my hand. People were gawking, but it didn’t matter with Myles. There were no papzz waiting to snap our picture. Just as I was about to stop, Myles rushed toward me, lifting me over his shoulder and carrying my giggling body to the seventh hole.
By the time we had arrived at the last hole, I was dreading the end o
f our date. Spending time with Myles made me happy. I didn’t want it to end.
“Do you have plans this weekend?” I tucked a stray curl that had escaped my ponytail behind my ear.
“Nothing too pressing.” He smiled, leaning over his club to tap his pink ball toward the hole.
“Do you want to do something Saturday?” Did those words seriously just come out of my mouth? Look at me, reaching new milestones all over the place. Maggie Allen just asked a guy out on an actual date.
“I would love to.”
It wasn’t until I was lying in bed, later that night, that it occurred to me that Myles and I were bordering close to dating territory. Not that he had mentioned putting a label on us, but it was heading in that direction and exclusivity. Even in the loosest form, it meant putting an end to the sexcapades with Justin. My life pre-Myles, the one lived without caring about attaching myself to a man or accepting one attaching himself to me, was nearing its end. Things were changing, and the fact was scary. After months of balancing on the thin edge between jealousy and disgust, watching my friends fall in love, I was contemplating jumping on the bandwagon. Hell, I might as well be a die-hard Yankees fan sporting a Red Sox jersey… facing exile by others of my kind.
A conversation with Justin was on the horizon. The next time we ended up in the same place at the same time, I would rip off the band-aid and pull the plug on our casual hookups. No doubt he wouldn’t buy the reason behind it all, but whatever. We may have been cut from the same cloth, milking the single life, avoiding relationships and scoffing at those who lived for sharing their lives with a partner, but I was in a state of metamorphosis. Justin was bound to be skeptical, that was unavoidable. But what did it matter? The thing between us was always supposed to be temporary and had far exceeded its lifespan. Hell, I’d already tried to end it once. If I didn’t cut the strings now, when things were brewing with Myles, distracting me from Justin, I knew my growing craving for an actual relationship would spill over to Justin. Honestly, if things were different and I thought there was even the slightest chance he would be interested, Justin would be my first choice. I swear, the fact that the idea even crossed my mind proved I was losing it.
Hooked Page 10
