Chapter 21 KELSEY ROUNDS THE BASES
Chapter 21
K ELSEY R OUNDS THE B ASES
I sit on the end of Zachery’s blue bed, surrounded by pretty wallpaper and lace, like the setting of an old-fashioned story. Pride and Prejudice , maybe. Or The Age of Innocence .
It fits the trope. Me, trying to find my Hallmark husband. So did the popcorn meet-cute. The barbershop quartet. We got milkshakes, for Pete’s sake.
Then I went off script.
Zachery paces the room like a caged lion, and I know I need to correct his misperception about what went down with Simon.
“I’m okay, Zach.”
He stops walking to look at me. “What happened?”
And there it is.
“Do I have to talk about it?” My voice is a mouse squeak.
He frowns at that and sits next to me. “Of course not. I just need to know if I should assemble an angry mob.”
“It does seem like a tar-and-feather kind of town.”
His body relaxes, his spine less of a tension rod. “Did he hurt you? Did something happen?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean, we made out a little.” I press my hand to my chest to steady my breath. I have to say it. My next words tumble out in a rush. “I might have lost my panties in the grass beneath the bleachers.”
Zach stands straight up, like he’s been jerked by a string. “Your what?”
I stand up next to him. “I know. I blew it. Nobody drops their underwear within two hours of a meet-cute. Not even Anastasia Steele.”
“Anastasia?”
“ Fifty Shades . Look, I know that was too fast. I got caught up in the moment. I did it all wrong.”
“You? Or him?” Zachery goes still right in the middle of pushing his hair off his forehead.
I put on my best pleading look. “Can we forget about Simon? That deal is done, between you punching him and me ... I don’t know.”
Zachery sighs and resumes his place at my side. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Okay.” I kick off my shoes and unclip the bow from my hair. Might as well get comfortable as I confess my crimes against love stories everywhere.
Zach follows suit, leaving his two-toned loafers on the floor.
We lie sideways on the bed, facing each other, both propped up on our elbows like we’re best girlfriends at a sleepover.
“We did lots of normal date things. Got milkshakes, listened to the band, played some of the games.” I hold out my wrist, which is encircled with a green plastic bracelet. “He won this at the ring toss.”
Zach grunts.
“We were holding hands, and it was nice, you know? Then he kissed me by the train the kids were riding.”
Zach’s lips twitch, and he seems angry still, but I keep going.
“I made a joke about how we were around the little kids, and he asked if I wanted to go someplace quieter. I said I did.”
I snap my fingers. “That’s where I went wrong. Right there. I should have said no. Stuck to the script. Nobody loses their panties on the first date when it’s true love.”
“I’m not sure it was true—”
I’m not listening. “I did the wrong bases!” I can see it. “Normally there are first, second, and third in dating. The kiss. The boobs. You know! But in Hallmark movies, the bases are different.”
“Kelsey, are you all right?”
I can’t break my train of thought. “I think first base is probably the wiping-flour-off-the-cheek moment. You know, the touch that’s forced by circumstance, then becomes a spark.”
“Like when you held his hand.” Zachery’s voice has a growl to it.
“No, that was on purpose. More like if I had brushed popcorn kernels off his shirt. Dang, I should have done that.”
“What’s second base?”
“The almost-kiss. Where you’re leaning in, but someone comes in or the phone rings or a horn blares.”
“Right.”
“And third base is when you actually kiss. But that’s nearly at the end. When you’ve already decided this person is the one.”
“So then straight to the home run?”
“No. You fade to black.”
“You were definitely in blackness.”
I sigh. I was. I used Hollywood bases. Meet. Hook up. Ghost. I resist the urge to get up and pace. We’re still facing each other on the bed. “So, we walked around the baseball field in the dark. We kissed. We got caught up in the moment.”
Zachery’s face is a mask, pure relaxed nothingness. I have no idea what he’s thinking of me.
“The panties came off, but then it happened.” I can’t say anything else. This is Zach. He’s a friend, but he’s also a man. And, gosh. I can’t do it.
But Zach’s eyes have narrowed. He’s tense again. He thinks something terrible went down. “ What happened?”
When I don’t answer, his tone is tight. “Tell me before I find him and bash his face in properly.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I say quickly. “It’s like my girl parts locked up or something. Batten the hatches! Bring down the gates! Vacuum seal!” I cringe at that last one. My mouth gets ahead of my brain sometimes.
Now Zach’s eyebrows have drawn together. “So, you didn’t end up doing anything?”
“No! It was like, I’m ready, let’s do this thing. But my body was like—heck no!” I gasp. “Wait. What if this is what the fortune teller knew! I was drying up! Losing my ... oh, whatever!” I collapse face down on the bed. This is too much.
Too embarrassing.
This whole idea was dumb.
His warm hand lies firmly on my back. “I don’t think any of that is true. You had a negative encounter last night in Pitchfork, and you were simply bracing yourself for another one.”
I have no answer for that.
He moves my hair to one side, off my neck. “You’ll be all right, Kelsey.”
I shift my face so I can talk again. “Do you think this trip was a dumb idea?”
His expressionless mask goes back on.
“You do. God!” I turn my face back to the bedspread so I don’t have to see him.
“Kelsey, hey.” His fingers find my chin and turn my face to him. “I don’t think anything you do is dumb. It’s part of the process for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been struggling with the men you’ve had access to. They weren’t right for you. You needed to get out there, try something else. This is a new scene. It’s probably still the wrong scene, but you’re trying.”
“But what if I’m not going to get any better? What if I meet a great guy, and my vagina is a steel trap?”
I see him working very hard not to laugh.
“Your vagina is not a steel trap.”
“I think it is!”
“It worked before.”
“Not in years!” Oh, I didn’t mean to admit that.
His eyebrow lifts. “Years?”
Might as well put it out there. “Not since I started working for Desdemona. Life got too intense. I only met these jerks, all full of evil ambition.”
His hand returns to my back, applying smooth, even pressure. “It will work for the right person.”
“But what if it doesn’t?”
“It will.”
“I don’t know that.” But maybe I do. Because everything is feeling warm and happy since Zachery put his hands on me. “Hold up.”
“What now?” Zachery asks.
I turn back on my face. “Do that thing with my hair again.”
He laughs lightly, but he moves all the loose strands off my neck.
My whole body shivers.
I turn my face. “Is that a good sign?”
“Sure.”
“Do more.”
“Like . . . what?”
“Just the back thing.”
His hand applies gentle pressure.
I melt into the bed. It’s all perfect. All good.
Maybe Zach is right. Maybe it was about Simon being the wrong guy. Grant being wrong.
But I need to know. After tonight’s disaster, if something goes wrong again, I’ll fall apart. I need a burner boyfriend. Someone to test this out on. Someone who doesn’t make me turn into a Venus flytrap.
Like Zachery.
Obviously, I like him fine.
He’s a player. He understands transactional encounters. He does them all the time.
That’s it.
I can start again tomorrow with the proper rom-com bases.
But today, I can make sure I’m really ready by using Hollywood time.
And who better than one of the best Romeos in LA?
I sit up and face him. “Zachery Montgomery Carter, will you have sex with me?”