Page 12 of Body Checking
She has her contacts pulled up, so I type my number in and start to save it asHammer, but think better of it, putting Cade instead.
“The ball is in your court. I’ll wait for you to call me. If you don’t, then I understand and wish you all the best. But I pray you do call, Maren.”
She gulps and slides her phone from my hand, placing it back inside of her purse, but never taking her eyes off of mine. We sit in silence staring at one another with only the sounds of feet moving across the floor and muffled voices from the opposite side of the door. We’re tucked away in our bubble right now, but I know at any moment that someone will come to burst it.
“I’ll call. Promise.”
“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. You wouldn’t want to break this old man’s heart.” Her eyes close on a smile and she bats at my chest.
I catch her hand and hold it in mine as I stand from the couch, pulling her up with me. I slowly bring her hand to my mouth and place a small kiss on the back of it. She lets out a sound somewhere between a nervous giggle and a gasp for air.
I know, Maren. Me too.
“I leave pretty early tomorrow, but you can call or text anytime you’d like.”
“I won’t bother you while you’re busy with important things like, you know, coaching a hockey team.”
“I’d stop the game right in the thick of it if you called, so don’t worry about that.” And while she may think that’s a lie or an exaggeration, it is absolutely not.
“Thank you, again, for the amazing seats and jersey and food and drinks. You really shouldn’t have done that. It was all too much but I greatly appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. But I should really thank you.”
“For what?” she asks as we move closer towards the door.
“For making me feel again when I thought there was nothing left.”
Fuck, I’m pouring it on thick. It’s one cheesy line after another, but I can’t stop it. It’s like the words that laid low, thinking they’d never be used, came racing out the minute I saw her.
“You’re…welcome?” I guess I’d have that same reaction if some old bag of bones started stacking up the ridiculous one-liners like I have.
I turn the handle, not wanting this to end but knowing it has to, and find her friend and Jordan standing there with wide eyes.
“Oh. Hey. We were just…” Sasha’s words topple off, apparently not having a fib to tell.
“It was nice meeting you, Sasha. I hope to see you again, sometime.”
“Yes. Same. About meeting you. And seeing you again. But not inthatway. She’sthatway about you. I follow strict girl code guidelines. Hands off another’s girl man when she calls dibs. I wouldn’t dar–”
“Sasha!” Maren grouses between gritted teeth. “Good night, Cade.”
“‘Night, Maren. I really hope to hear from you.” I lean in and kiss her cheek chastity, not wanting to scare her with my forwardness.
Like she didn’t already catch the extent of my forwardness when I tracked her down and sent her tickets and a jersey then told her she made me feel again.
Jesus. She’s never going to call. Not after that desperation.
She links arms with her friend and they begin to walk away. Sasha slows and looks over her shoulder and asks, “Do you, by any chance, have a pencil du–ow ow ow.”
Her body begins to fold as she whines in pain. Maren’s grip on her is tight and if I’m not mistaken, I think she’s even pinching Sasha under her arm. It’s a move my mom pulled on me many times, so I recognize thesign of agony.
Maren, too, looks over her shoulder and passes me a tight smile and small wave before scurrying off. I watch as her hips sway side to side, her ass looking like a delicious meal just waiting to be consumed.
“Bet that bikini is gonna come in handier than you expected.” I look behind me to see Joaquín walking up with a cocky smirk. “I’m assuming that’s your video girl.”
“Maren. Her name is Maren. Don’t call her anything else,” I growl.
“Sure thing…Hammer.” I reach out and punch his arm as he trots past me.
