26. Dahlia
DAHLIA
“I’m so jealous I could die,” Jane whines from where she lies on the pillow fort next to my bed. “I came home alone and fell asleep watching Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns.”
“I love that show.”
“Don’t patronize me. I was eating a microwaved burrito while wearing sweats, and you were getting busy with Felix.”
I snort a laugh. “It was a pretty great night.”
I’m curled up on my side, still wearing Felix’s lucky sweatshirt, but freshly showered. Jane came running to my room for details minutes after I walked through the door.
“When are you going to see him again?” she asks, hugging a pillow to her chest.
“I don’t know. We didn’t make any plans.”
“Invite him over tonight.” Her eyes light up. “Oooh, we can watch Can’t Buy Me Love!”
“I don’t know.” I wrap the strings of the hoodie around a finger. “I don’t want to be the girl that turns into a clingy bitch the second we start hooking up.”
“You’re not just hooking up.”
“I don’t know what we’re doing anymore,” I admit. “But everything Felix has told me is that he doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t have time and Bethany really fucked with his head.”
“Evil bitch. She’s lucky you didn’t tell me about the bathroom stunt until today. I’d like to rip her hair out strand by strand.”
“Honestly, same.”
We fall quiet. I’m tired but can’t stop replaying things from last night over and over in my head. Jane sits up quickly. “We should order loads of takeout and have a girls’ day. I’ll text Daisy and Violet.”
“They’re busy,” I say.
“No, they’re not. They’re with Jordan and Gavin.
They’re always with them. I’m glad they’re in love and everything, but we need a girls’ day.
” Her thumbs fly over the screen of her phone, and I don’t bother trying to talk her out of pulling our friends away from their boyfriends.
When Jane has an idea, there’s no stopping her.
And in less than an hour, the four of us are sitting around the living room watching an old Sandra Bullock flick with takeout from three different restaurants.
Daisy and Vi pepper me with questions about Felix.
It’s exciting to be the one with something to contribute to our conversations.
I’ve always been the one listening and asking the questions about the guys they’re dating.
It’s the perfect end to an incredible weekend.
Great friends, a cute romantic comedy, and greasy food.
I don’t hear from Felix Sunday night, and Monday I have to skip breakfast to see my advisor. My fingers itch to text him, but I refrain. I’ll let him make the next move. See? I can do this. I can casually date with no expectations.
Except, I have this low-level anxiety that grows as each hour passes without hearing from him.
What if he decided that he’s done with me and our arrangement?
What if I never get another chance to hang out with him one-on-one, or kiss him.
I run my fingers along my lips, remembering what his mouth felt like on mine.
After classes, I head straight to the golf course. I played well last weekend at the tournament, but it’s just giving me more motivation to push harder. We have our home tournament coming up and I would love to win with my dad watching.
He’s the reason I started golfing. I was Daddy’s little girl, through and through. And he loved golf. At first, I only played so that I could spend time with him. We’d get up early on a Sunday morning and meet up with some of his friends, play eighteen and then have lunch.
Dance was my first love. But somewhere along the way, things changed.
I found I liked being outside. I liked the solitude and quiet atmosphere on the course.
And I loved the challenge. It didn’t come as naturally to me as dancing, and I had to work really hard to improve.
I still remember the first time I shot a lower score than my dad.
I remember the smile on his face and the exhilaration I felt from years of consistent practice finally paying off.
That feeling was magic. I didn’t have aspirations of playing in college, though. In fact, the only reason I did freshman year was because I got a scholarship, but I think it’s helped keep me sane. When everything else has felt hopeless, I’ve found pieces of myself out here.
And now that I’m seeing the payoff again, shooting lower scores than I ever have at tournaments, my competitiveness wants to push it even further to see how much more I can improve.
“Will you record my swing? I want to check something.” I hold out my phone to Harper. Practice is over, but we’re both still hitting balls.
“Your swing is looking great,” she says, but takes my phone and stands behind me to capture video as I get into position with my three wood.
I take a deep breath, swing, and watch the ball sail down the driving range.
“It looks damn near perfect to me.” Harper holds out my phone, and I take it.
“It feels like my hands are drifting as I come down from the backswing.” I slow the video down, examining every frame for flaws.
“Stop overanalyzing. You’re playing great. Lean into whatever magic you’ve found and don’t tweak so much you lose it.”
“So basically, rely on luck?”
She laughs. “Luck is just hard work with a sprinkle of good karma.”
“I thought it was preparation meeting opportunity?”
“Eh, I like my version better.” Her lips pull into a satisfied smile at her own answer.
“Well, I’ve never been that lucky, so I think I’ll stick with the hard work part and hope karma or opportunity finds me.”
I tee up another ball, but before I can get into position, Harper says, “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you might be the luckiest chick I know.”
She glances at me over her shoulder with a sly smile then out to the parking lot that runs along the side of the range. I follow her gaze until I find the object of her interest.
Felix leans against the hood of his orange Corvette, arms crossed over his chest, staring back at me. His lips curve when he realizes he’s been spotted, and he lifts one hand in a wave.
I wave back dumbly, heart racing.
“What is he doing here?” I ask more to myself than Harper.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, I hope it ends with you riding him in the front seat of his car. He is straight-up obsessed with you, and I am so here for it.”
“He is not obsessed with me.”
“He’s looking at you like a man obsessed.”
I shove the club in my bag and head toward him. When I get within ten feet, he pushes off the car and stands tall.
“Hey.” He shoves both hands in his pockets. It looks like he came straight from his own practice. Black athletic pants and a gray Valley U Football T-shirt. His dark hair is a little messy and windblown. He’s still the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
“Hi,” I reply tentatively, looking around for some explanation for his appearance at the campus golf course. “What are you doing here?”
“You said I couldn’t come to your tournament, but you said nothing about watching you practice.” His grin is wolfish, and my stomach does a little flip.
“Yeah, well, it extends to practices.”
“In that case, your coach called practice fifteen minutes ago, so technically, I’m just a guy hanging at the driving range watching some badass girl hit the fuck out of a golf ball. You gave me goosebumps a couple times.”
“How long have you been here?” I know my face must be bright red because it’s on fire.
He chuckles. “Long enough to be impressed.”
“Why?”
“You’re amazing.”
I shake my head. It’s fuzzy with his presence and compliments. “I mean, why are you here?”
“I didn’t hear from you today. Wanted to make sure you were alive.”
“You’re here for a wellness check?” I feel one brow lift.
Felix laughs again, this one silent but shaking his chest. He removes his hands from his pockets and steps closer. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I was going to work at the design lab. Why?”
“Hoping you could hang out. The rest of my week is slammed with practices and meetings.”
“I have a design I need to finish for tomorrow.” I’ve never wanted to blow off homework so badly. “Maybe I can finish in an hour or two and then we can do something?”
Something like kiss until my lips hurt again. I’ve missed that feeling.
“I have to crash pretty early. Coach was pissed at practice tonight and called an extra workout for tomorrow at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Bummer.”
“Yeah.” He nods slowly. “Can I drive you home at least?”
“I live down the street,” I say, fighting a smile. I can actually see the house from where we’re standing.
Felix waves a hand toward my abandoned golf bag. “You’ve got all those heavy clubs.”
He walks with me back to get my stuff. Taking my bag from me, he groans. “Fuck. They are heavy.”
“Maybe you’re just weak, Walters,” I tease.
With that, he hooks the bag over one shoulder and then scoops me up, carrying both me and the clubs across the range.
“Oh my gosh, put me down. People are staring,” I whisper-hiss.
“No can do, hot stuff.” He tips his head toward Harper and a few of my other teammates who lingered after practice.
They watch with surprise and amusement. He raises his voice to speak to them.
“Everything is fine. Don’t worry. She just got a little weak in the knees at the sight of me. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Oh my gosh, Felix.” I hit him playfully in the chest.
His smile is broad as he stalks away. He doesn’t put me down until we’ve reached his car. I adjust my skirt that rode up as he carried me and straighten my tank top.
Felix puts my clubs in the back of his car and then leans against it and pulls me to him.
“I can’t believe you did that. They are going to give me so much shit tomorrow.”
“I guess I better make it worth it then.” He slides a hand around the back of my neck and uses it to guide my lips to his.
He makes this sexy, little noise every time we kiss. It’s a sort of gruff hum that comes from deep in his throat, but somehow, I can tell he’s smiling when he does it.
His grasp around my neck is gentle, but his mouth crushes mine.
I lean against his chest and drape my arms over his shoulders.
His tongue tangles with mine as he circles my waist with his free hand.
Long fingers splay out over my lower back and graze my ass.
Two inches lower and he’d be under my skirt.
I have enough wherewithal to know that standing in the middle of a parking lot with half my teammates watching isn’t a super idea. I’m winded when he pulls back. He winks. “Ready, babe?”
Ready to make out in his car? Ready to scrap my evening plans and go home with him? Yes, to all of the above. But apparently, I’m too dazed to answer.
He shoots me a half smile and steps away from the passenger door so I can get in. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll drop you at home.”
I chance a glance in Harper’s direction as I move to climb inside. She gives me two thumbs up and flashes me the biggest smile.
Felix gets behind the wheel, starts the car, and then leans over to brush his lips against mine again before he puts it in reverse.
And I think, maybe I am the luckiest girl alive.