Page 49 of A Country Kind Of Love
“Okay. I’ve got you.”
Peyton loves it when Cleo says, “I’ve got you”. It is one of her favourite things to hear. She also likes pretty much any words that exit Cleo’s mouth. The soft southern drawl makes her want to remove Cleo’s underwear immediately and have her recite the alphabet to her vagina. Amongst other things.
At the counter Cleo orders. “Please, can we take a Cleopatra Jones, a Big Maybelle, and a Tony Clifton?” The guy behind the counter taps away on the register. The restaurant is full considering it’s after midnight. The owner informs everyone they are set to close in thirty minutes.
“What did you just order?” The exotic names have thrown Peyton.
“Trust me; you’lllove them.”
She does trust her.
They wait for their pizza and take a cab ride to First Horizon Park.
“What isthis place?”
“It’s where the Nashville Sounds play baseball.”
Peyton spies a large metal frame at the entrance. It’s shaped like––
“Is that a giant guitar?”
“It is! That’s the scoreboard; cool, isn’t it?”
“Really cool, but why are we here?”
Cleo smirks.“Follow me.”
The floodlights stream across the pitch. Cleo bypasses a giant set of metal gates and heads straight for a set of white entrance barriers that inform them they’re at the right field entrance. Cleo hops over the barrier without a second thought.
“Are you crazy?” Peyton whispers.
“Come on. Pass methe pizza.”
“What if we get caught?” Peyton asks. She looks around; there has to be security somewhere.
“Trust me.” Cleo smiles, and her smile is enough to make Peyton jump out of an aeroplane without a parachute. She clambers over the barrier. Her foot gets stuck in a hole, and her body falls forwards. She manages to dislodge her foot at the casualty of her Converse.
“Shit. My shoe.”
“Hold on.” Cleo reaches through the barrier, trying to retrieve it. She can’t reach, so in one swift movement she climbs back over the barrier, reclaims the shoe, and she’s back before Peyton even has time to recover from almost falling and breaking her face on the concrete.
“How... never mind. I wasn’t aware you were freakishly athletic.”
“I’d hardly call that athletic.” Cleo chuckles. “I think there’s just being clumsy and being moderately coordinated.”
“Thanks.” Peyton sulks.
“It’s cute.” Cleo gives her a hand up, collects the pizza, and makes her way towards the giant guitar in the distance. When Peyton’s stomach decided it wanted pizza, eating it in the middle of a baseball field illegally did not cross her mind, but she’s rolling with it. Cleo runs over to a barrel shaped bin by the field and starts todig inside.
“Please tell me you’re not looking for like left over hot dogs or something?” I cringe.
“Nope.”
“Good. That would be disgusting.” Peyton observes Cleo’s bum as she bends towards the bottom of what appears to be an empty disposal bin. She has a really nice bum. Peyton observes it on a regular basis, even naked. It’s even better naked. Her black trousers are tight which emphasises the perkiness.
“Are you sure you don’t do squats?”Peyton asks.
“Huh?” Cleo pulls her hand out; she raises a black plastic bag triumphantly. “Got it. Did you saysomething?”
