Chapter 24
RAWLEY
Avery comes home from her road trip on Monday, and we’re officially on for our date Tuesday night.
A bowling date. Connor laughed his ass off when I told him, but it was the best I could come up with under pressure.
Two things I haven’t mentioned to my little brother yet? The kiss, and the bet I won.
I’m a little nervous about what he would say, the warnings he would give. So I’m holding it in.
As far as he knows, this is another fake outing.
Of course, I know better and yet, my instinct was still “let’s go bowling” as our first AK date?
I’m an idiot.
Welp, we’re stuck with it now.
I get to Sarah’s right on time. I’m not usually punctual, but I seem to be with all these Avery dates.
It’s Florida-in-June hot, so I’m not wearing anything too fancy. My cargo shorts and at Taylor’s direction, a purple Surge T-shirt. But given we’re finally going to have a real conversation about whatever that bet meant, I’m hoping I don’t look too much like a mess.
Or that Avery likes it, anyway.
I ring the doorbell and there she is.
Her hair’s all blown out and shiny, and her makeup is done a little more around her eyes. Probably because of the photos.
Her outfit is casual like mine though. She’s wearing a slinky black sleeveless shirt that falls loosely over denim shorts that go only a couple of inches down her thigh, leaving me lots of leg to take in.
They’re made to appear longer with the wrap-around effect of her strappy sandals. And I notice for the first time that her toenails are painted purple. That’s pretty.
“Hey,” I say, like a genius.
I haven’t seen her since we kissed last week, and that’s all I got?
“Hey.” In her hands are a pair of socks, and she raises them slightly to show me. “I’m bringing these with me. That way I don’t need to wear sneakers now.”
“Be good to my girl,” Sarah yells from somewhere in the house.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply as Avery leads us outside and shuts the door.
My instinct is to touch her somehow, but with how conscious I am of the time since I saw her, I hold back. We stroll to the car, side by side.
Damn, this is a little awkward.
When we get in the car, I shift to face her, waiting to turn it on.
“Hey,” I repeat. A genius, like I said.
“Hey.” A smile starts to make an appearance, which relaxes me somewhat.
“You look nice.”
That smile widens.
I can’t seem to shut up. “I know it’s for the cameras and not for me, don’t worry.”
Instead of agreeing, she looks amused. “Rawley.”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to make this weird?”
“No?”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
She doesn’t wait for me, grabbing the back of my head and bringing our mouths together.
Not that she would’ve had to wait long. As soon as she said those words, my lips were headed toward hers of their own accord.
The kiss is quick, our mouths pressed against each other just for a matter of seconds, but it somehow rearranges my brain chemistry.
Holy fuck. We’re doing this thing. This thing being more than bowling, more than our fake arrangement. It’s us, together, physically.
She’s making it clear for me, so I can stop questioning. Now I need to actually stop doing that.
“There, ice breaker done,” she says, like she can read my mind. “Let’s go to the bowling place.”
“Bowling alley.”
“Whatever it’s called.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I repeat, energized now, nerves largely gone and hopes majorly raised.
I turn the car on, and we get on the road.
“So purple toes, huh? Team spirit and all that?”
She looks down at them, and I see them wiggle out of the corner of my eye.
“Seemed fitting for my first month on the team.” She glances back at me, focusing on my Surge shirt. “I see you got the memo too.”
“Taylor’s orders. Not that I’m complaining. I like purple.”
“That’s convenient,” she says archly. “Since I wear a lot of it.”
I laugh, and we both settle in as I drive. It’s reassuring to know our natural rapport is still unaffected by the thing.
“Let’s go over the plan, okay?” she says. “Taylor has those friendly guys taking some shots as we walk in. And then we need to take a couple of selfies throughout the night.”
“I’ll let you pick when and where. I’m easy.”
“Noted,” she says, and she has me chuckling again with her flippant tone. “We also need to stay aware that we could be captured by other bowlers’ cell phones too.”
“So stay cute, you’re saying.”
“You’re always cute,” she replies. “I’m not.”
“What do you mean? You’re hot all the time.” Whoops, maybe I shouldn’t have said that out loud.
“I have one of those faces.”
“What do you mean?” I repeat.
“RBF. Resting bitch face. Only I can look mad when I’m talking too, not just resting. If I’m not pushing a full grin on my face, photos come off like I’m angry, or grouchy, or whatever.”
“Oh. I never noticed.”
“Well, you’re the one who’s actually talking to me, so you know I’m just being normal.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
There’s a pause in the conversation and when I look over at her, her face looks slightly flushed. She catches me and gives me a fresh smile.
“Always hot, huh?” she asks, a trace of curiosity in her voice. Is she fishing for a compliment? Because I’m happy to provide one.
“Yes, you know that, right? At least to me.”
She studies me a bit longer and then turns away, sucking in her cheeks before continuing.
“Look, Rawley, just to get it on record…” Oh shit, this is going to be about the thing. “I…about last week, I’m still in. As long as you’re still all right with the ground rules, of course. No other women, yes?”
“Yeah, one hundred percent agreed. I have no interest.”
“I believe you. Okay, I’ll suspend my rule for you.”
Thank fuck for that.
“A bet is a bet, yeah?” I mean it as a joke, but my words come out sounding nervous. I should probably just keep my mouth shut when this gorgeous woman is saying she wants me.
“But it’s just physical, okay? No feelings, just fun?”
The answer is automatic. I’m not fucking this up.
“Sure. Yes.”
She lets out a breath. “Good.”
I don’t know if she’s ready to move on, so I stay silent. She does too, though and after a minute, I decide to bring the conversation to a lighter subject.
“So, tell me about your bowling experience. You have any skills?”
“Do seven-year-old birthday parties count?” she asks.
“Oh, I’m liking my chances today.”
“I guess I need to throw you a bone once in a while.”
I tilt my head toward her, and this time it’s my eyebrow that’s raised.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Rawley,” she says, humor in her voice. “Guys are so ridiculous,” she adds under her breath.
We’re finally at the bowling alley, and I get us parked.
“Okay, let’s do this,” she says, and slips her hand in mine as soon as we start walking to the building.
On cue, there’s the photographers from before. They take their snaps, our smiles locked in place, and twenty seconds later, I’m opening the door for her.
“So we’ll get our shoes first?” she asks me as we step inside.
But before I can answer, a woman approaches us. “Hi, I’m Cindy, the manager Taylor spoke to? I’ve got everything set up for you.”
“Do we need to get our shoes though?” I ask.
“No, she sent me your sizes, and I pulled them for you.” I look at Avery and she shrugs, so we follow Cindy farther into the building. “I put you at the end of the lanes so you have a little privacy.”
“That’s great,” Avery says. “Thank you.”
A handful of heads do double takes as we walk down to our assigned lane, and a few people whip out their phones. I try to ignore them. It’s what we planned for.
When we get to the end of the alley, a teenager is waiting for us. He’s enormous despite his baby face. The closer we approach, the more excited he looks.
“This is my nephew, Caleb. I asked him to help you two today with anything you need.” She leans toward me. “He’s also on the defensive line of his high school team, so I thought he’d be the right person to make sure no one bothers you.”
“Nice.” I step toward him to offer my hand. “Thanks for being our protection.”
He takes my hand, shaking it eagerly. “I’m a huge fan. It’s an honor.”
“He’ll get you set up for your games,” Cindy continues. “Are you hungry? Nothing fancy here, but we have chicken fingers, pizza…”
I glance at Avery and she shrugs. To Cindy, I say. “I’d never complain about chicken fingers.”
“Great, I’ll bring some over,” she says before taking our drink requests, which ends up being water for both of us.
“Wild night,” Avery says to me with a nudge. We share a smile before Caleb starts getting us organized.
Five minutes later, bowling shoes on, scoreboard loaded, pins racked, and properly sized balls in hand, we’re ready to go.
There are a couple of women taking pictures here and there, but it’s not constant. Maybe Caleb is intimidating the others. Or they’re just respecting our privacy.
“Can you go first?” Avery asks. “I need to watch what you do.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I’m not what you’d call an avid bowler, but I’ve done it enough that I remember how to get spin on the ball so it doesn’t land in the gutter.
My first attempt is hardly noteworthy, yet I still get four pins down on one corner. And then I get another three down on the second try. Seven total.
“Not bad,” Avery says. “Better than what I’m about to do.”
She stands and grabs her ball, and then walks to the lane. Instead of getting in position, she turns back to me.
“How am I supposed to stand?”
Caleb starts to move towards her to help, but I put my hand up so that he stops, and I make my way to her instead.
“Okay, so…” Then I realize the easiest way to do this. “Can I touch you?”
There’s a teasing look in her eye. “I suppose.”
“Okay so, you’re going to position yourself like this.”
I put my palms on her hips and shift her so she’s at the right angle. Only, when I pull her back toward me to be the correct distance from the pins…
My dick is very much resting against her ass, and yeah, he’s not upset about it.
The opposite, in fact.
I freeze for three seconds, barely any time, but it’s enough. I start getting hard. Crap.