Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RUSTY
H ow is this guy everywhere I don't want him to be?
I'm trying harder than ever to be the kind of guy I want to be, and this golden hammer keeps popping up to try to derail me.
I can’t let him.
Especially not with Ash watching me.
If Philip Dumfries being here isn't bad enough, he's recording the game, probably live-streaming it. To make matters worse, he's with Teddy and Bill.
"Philip," I say with a nod. "Bill. Mayor."
Teddy flinches like I lunged at him, and guilt nips at me in small, painful bites. How can I feel bad for intimidating Teddy and feel a desire to pummel Philip at the same time?
"Rusty. How's my ex?" Philip asks like she's leftovers.
"I'm really good," Ash says. "Curious what three grown men without children are doing at a T-ball game, though."
"It's a community event," Teddy says, "and I'm the mayor. "
"There are three more games happening in this complex alone, and the high school teams are playing in a tournament in Mullet Ridge," I say. "If I didn't know better, I'd think y'all are spyin' on us."
"What would we need to spy for?" Bill huffs.
"You tell me," I say.
"Why are you here?" Philip asks, like he's the one suspicious.
"My friend asked me to be the assistant coach for his daughter's team."
"Because a T-ball team needs an NFL player and a collegiate athlete coaching?" Bill snickers. "Although, you never got much playing time at Clemson, did you?"
"More than you did," I say. I tried out for the football team but didn't make it. I played two years on Clemson’s baseball team, though. "Do you not think children deserve qualified teachers and coaches?" I turn to Teddy. "Is that the platform you're running on next term, Mayor?"
Teddy’s immediately flustered. "That's not … that isn't … I don't have time for this." He stands and starts walking down the bleachers, turning around long enough for Bill to catch up. "You coming?" he asks Philip.
"I'll stay and catch up with my ex and her new boyfriend. See you tomorrow," Philip says.
He keeps that creepy, calm stare. "I played lacrosse at Cornell. Although, it's more of an Ivy League sport, so you probably don't know what it is."
The number of ways I could punch this guy's face …
"Lacrosse," I say like I'm racking my brain. "That's hockey on grass, innit?"
"You're thinking field hockey," he says, and I chuckle like I'm just too backwoods to know better.
Philip's mouth twitches up. "I played a little hockey growing up, too, though."
"Really?" He looks like a Wall Street gym bro and not like someone who could survive getting checked against the boards. And because I'm a petty, petty man, I say, "You should come to the Double H game this weekend in Mullet Ridge."
" Double H ? I've never heard of it."
"It's a local league. They're big on audience interaction and even let fans play sometimes, if you sign a waiver. You can play one or both halves"
Philip scoffs. "Halves? Hockey has three periods, not quarters and halves. You Southerners think everything is like football."
"Guilty," I say. "Still, you should come. I think you'd enjoy watching us Southerners butcher hockey." Philip snorts. "Ash and I are going, aren't we, Gorgeous?"
Even though we've never talked about going to a hockey game, hockey season is over, and Ash has undoubtedly never heard of "Double H" hockey, she nods. "Can't wait, Hotcakes."
"I always thought you were a waffles girl," Philip says.
Ash laughs, and I feel a stab of jealousy until I see how cold her eyes are. “You have to be the only guy I ever dated who wished I'd still been running an abs page."
That's better.
"I'd have been your shining star." Philip gestures to his body.
"You know, I seem to remember you sending me a few dozen gym selfies with that exact caption. It's one thing for a nineteen-year old to want in on it. You’re like thirty-three and still talking about it? Not a good look, dude."
I can't help snorting.
Ash's Psychology of Social Media class project was big enough that I knew people who were sending their pictures to her abs page. I'll be the first to admit — in my head — that I want Ash to be curious about my abs. She seemed interested for a minute the other day, but she stopped so abruptly, I was almost hurt. I've watched her fawn all over my friends and heard her wax on about how many pats of butter their tummy waffles deserve.
Apart from that brief moment in time, she hasn't done that with me.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me.
"Rusty," Duke calls from the field, hitching his thumb behind him.
"Looks like I'm needed on the field." I turn back to Philip. "Listen, the kids can be funny to watch, but you should know that your laughter sounds like you're mocking them. You're here to sell people on your vision, but if you want to get people's buy-in, you should enjoy the game with the kids, not at their expense."
"Thanks for the feedback," Philip says. I don't know if he means it or not. I can't imagine he does. But I said what I needed to say, and I didn't ram my fist into his teeth.
Ash walks with me around the bleachers, twining her fingers in mine. The tension in my hand eases at her touch, and the muscles in my body similarly relax. Well, all the muscles except my heart, which is thumping loud enough to be heard over the cheers of the parents.
We're on a main walkway, and Ash stops me before I go back to the dugout. She puts her arms around my neck, and I put my hands on her waist, and it's like a flood of overstimulation to my brain.
I'm touching Ash's waist.
Even through her blouse, the softness to her makes my chest ache. I've worked around strong women my whole life. Impressive as an ultra-toned woman is, there's something to Ash's softness that undoes me.
Who am I kidding? Everything about this woman undoes me.
"You are amazing," she says softly.
"What do you mean?" I want this to be the moment she realizes she loves me, the moment the switch flips in her brain and she sees how perfect we are for each other.
"You dismantled Philip without saying an unkind word. You are the best person I've ever known."
Guilt lodges in my throat. That's what this look is? She's not looking at me in adoration, she's impressed that I put her crappy ex in his place without being a jerk about it. This look isn't about me at all.
It's about him.
To make matters worse, she's calling me "the best person" when I had to control myself the whole time . All I wanted to do was disassemble the guy with my bare hands, not my words.
"I gotta go back to the field."
Ash kisses my nose. "Okay. Go get 'em, Coach."
My smile feels wooden, but I hope she can't see it. It's not her fault I carry a torch for her that will never burn out.
After the game, we say goodbye to our friends in the parking lot and climb into my truck. I open Ash's door for her.
"Where to now?" she asks.
More time with Ash? I assumed I was taking her back to her vehicle, but I'm not gonna tell her that. Lou and Millie told me to show her more of the real me. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
"Even after your four bags of cotton candy?" I ask.
She swings her legs in and buckles while I stand at the door. "Is that even a question?"
I grin, close her door, and walk around the truck. I shoot off a quick text to Patty before I get in.
We have to pass Maple Street to get to our destination, and Ash watches us pass the diner in confusion. "I thought you said we're eating. "
"We are," I say. "I had something else in mind, if you're open."
"I'm open," she says, rubbing her hands together. "Are we going to your place?"
"No. Another restaurant, if that's okay?"
"Of course, although I was hoping to see Pookie. And, you know, your actual house."
I bring my dog with me to the farm sometimes, so Ash has seen her plenty of times. But she's never seemed to care about going to my place. I bought it eight months ago and have been renovating it that whole time. I love it, but it's a space that no woman has ever stepped foot in. The idea of Ash entering my gray world and splashing color everywhere tugs at my heart.
"You can come see Prairie anytime you want," I say.
"Prairie doesn't fit her at all."
"She's a farm dog. I'm not changing her name to Pookie."
"She's not a farm dog, and you saved her from a ditch. You don't know what her name was before that!"
"She didn't have a name. She was abandoned as a puppy."
"I bet her mom would have called her Pookie."
"Her mom was a dog."
"Exactly. She would know!"
"I don't think dogs name their pups."
"But if they did, hers absolutely would have named her Pookie."
I smile and shake my head. "As you wish."
"Okay, Westley ."
"Okay, Buttercup ."
Ash looks at me. "Um, hello, did we just give each other new nicknames?"
"I think we did."
" Princess Bride nicknames, too," Ash says. "Wow. We're really good at this."
We really are.
"Buttercup is kind of a brat, though. "
"Imagine that," I tease.
Ash pinches my cheek. " You're a brat."
"If you say so."
"Crap," she says. "That was a total Westley thing to say!"
"What can I say? Westley's the man."
"So you're this total man of mystery stud who's secretly rich, secretly good at everything, and would go to any lengths for the woman he loves, and I'm … "
"Gorgeous."
Her laugh is like a bell. "It's all making sense now."
"She's also brave, caring, and bold. She stands up for what's right, even if it will get her killed. Not a bad comparison."
She nods and settles back into her seat. "Okay. All right. I'm down with Buttercup."
"Also, a cup of butter goes great with hotcakes … " I say, and Ash laughs again.
"Waffles, too, or so I'm told," she says. She pats my abs, something she's done before, but this time, her hand lingers for only an instant. Her thumb moves, stroking one individual muscle, and the sensation sends a shockwave through me.
Her hand pulls back fast. "Sorry, I think I got a shock."
It's too humid for a shock.
Is she …
Is she attracted to me?
The very possibility is a vise squeezing my lungs with hope so acute, it's painful.
It's seven p.m., and the parking lot is already full as we approach Donegal's.
"Wait, Donegal's?" she says as we pull into the packed bar. "Patty's bar? Am I finally meeting your other girlfriend?"
I want that catch in her voice to be jealousy more than anything. "Come on, Gorgeous. Let's go."