Chapter 9
STEFFI
Something changed.
Steffi couldn’t put her finger on it, couldn’t tell what had happened, but there was a difference between them ever since they’d had tea together and talked about kettles.
Kettles.
A conversation about kettles had led to the sweetest text message from him that left her smiling last night. She’d heard a beep, rolled over to check her phone, and saw what could only be described as flirting.
Deep-field Winner
Dugout Wonder
Dusty Wonder
I’ll keep working on a list for you…
During the day, her phone had beeped, but she had a line of customers at the desk and had to wait to check it because she had no idea if it was more flirting or not, and something like that she wanted to savor.
Sure enough, Drake had texted a photo of him at practice, in the dugout, with a few guys behind him.
They were all goofing off, sticking out their tongues, holding up two fingers in a peace sign, and acting like fools…
And she loved it.
Zooming in, she cropped the photo until it was just him, standing there with one eye closed, his tongue sticking out to the side, and two fingers up by his cheekbone.
There was a smudge of dirt on his chin, a bit of sweat on his brow, and his baseball cap was slightly askew…
and it made a perfect wallpaper for her cell phone.
This fool, her neighbor, her dance partner this evening, was her fiancé according to the entire world – and was quickly becoming her best friend despite it all.
Looking at her ring, his photo, and taking a moment to text him back – a part of her wondered what it would be like if any of this became real. Shaking off the thoughts, she smiled at the image once more and went back to work.
During her lunch break, she had a string of text messages from Drake – none of them comforting or instilling confidence in her.
Slight problem with the car…
Turns out that you cannot purchase rust that old…
Not on the US market…
It can be converted to Tetanus, tho!
Some scientist called me asking if I’d take $1 buck in exchange for making it a coral reef – I was slightly insulted and told him it would take at least twenty.
You know, I was shocked to discover that the car was once purple. I thought you bought it in Rustoleum Orange…
Apparently, when they removed a bolt, there was a fleck of purple paint underneath. No worries – it’s gone now. No one knows your purplish secret.
You could keep the Camry… seriously.
Ever heard the term, ‘it’s cheaper to keep ‘er’. In some instances, it’s talking about ex-wives. In this moment, I am talking about YOU.
Let’s talk while we practice tonight about the heap that shall henceforth and forever be known as Lockjaw-the-Clown-Car
“What the…” Staring at her phone, re-reading everything, she opted to call the dealership and was left on hold for several minutes before the call was disconnected. Frustrated, she called Drake and got his voicemail.
“Um, if you are calling from the Texas Rangers – YES! I can be there next week and would love to be your starting player. If you are my agent, I’ll call you back – and if you are calling from the Timberwolves, como se dice in espanol ‘more moolah’ and ‘I love you, boo!’ – oh yeah – and BEEP-Beep, boys – word to your mother! ”
Drake said in the most irritating and annoying way possible, dragging out the word ‘boy’ like he was Vanilla Ice or something. Just before she was about to blast his recording… his voice popped back on.
“Family unit – I love you. I don’t ever check this. Text me and Kisses! Muah!”
And then the phone beeped.
Family unit? Kisses? Wait – he doesn’t check his voicemails? It was so startling that she burst out laughing on the recording – and she was certain that she wasn’t the only person to ever do so. Still chuckling, she hung up and texted him.
You have the weirdest voicemail greeting – and yes, we’ll talk about the car while I dance upon your toes with pointy shoes that you’ve supplied me. See you at six, Dubious Worrier…
Smiling, she went back to work, and her afternoon passed much faster, knowing that she was going to have a time talking to this weird guy this evening about her car… while in his arms being twirled around.
“It’s so hard to be me sometimes,” she whispered aloud – but didn’t mean it in the slightest. Actually, things were pretty great right now, and it galled her to admit that it was because of one particular person.
Drake.
Hours later, Steffi was retracting every good thing she’d ever thought or said about him.
“What are you – bodily-dyslexic? Hold up your hands and make an ‘L’ with yo’ digits – because that’s the indicator of your left foot!”
“A – there is no such thing as bodily-dyslexic… and B – you are a crummy teacher!” she clapped back at him, pointing angrily. “You said ‘start with your left foot’ – so I did.”
“I said, ‘let’s start with the right’ and followed that with ‘wow, your left foot in that shoe looks like a hoof’. How did you mix that up?”
“Gee, it must have been all that glorious pillow talk…” she said sarcastically, making a face at him. “Why did I ever think we’d get along?”
“So you admit that you think of me?” he quipped, a smile twitching on his lips as she rolled her eyes at him.
“How can I not?”
“Are they dirty thoughts?” he invited softly, wagging his eyebrows at her.
“Oh yes,” she whispered as he took her hand in his and wrapped an arm around her waist so they could try gliding across the living room floor of his house once more. “I think of you… and a shovel… on a moonlit night… in the pouring rain… with a Hefty bag.”
“Dang, baby…” he whispered playfully. “You bought the good stuff? No dollar store trash bags for my wretched carcass?”
“Oh no,” she chuckled, meeting his eyes. “Not for you. I don’t want your bony elbows to poke out of the plastic.”
“I put lotion on them. I know you like them soft and not scaly.”
“You know me so well,” she retorted dryly – but the smile they shared was everything as they both grew quiet. He was leading her slowly around the living room, moving and swirling to the soft music playing from his cell phone in the distance. “Maybe you don’t suck as a dance teacher…”
“Maybe I misspoke earlier,” he offered loftily, but his intense eyes were still watching her, waiting.
“There’s no ‘maybe’…” she taunted coolly, not backing down. He gave her a slow, spreading smile that was hard to ignore as he nodded.
“I think maybe you’ll do.”
“Oh gee – be still my beating heart.”
“People will be jealous of our relationship.”
“If they only knew how fake it was…”
“Then they’d try to take you away from me,” he said softly, his face not giving away a thing. “And we both know that I’m the only one who will put up with your sass – fake or not.”
“Because it rhymes with what you are,” she said sweetly, still doling out jabs as she realized he was indeed flirting with her. Their banter was their – dare she say it – their love language?
“And you know it because you are always eyeballing it,” he whispered, drawing to a stop. “Admit it – you eyeball my sass all the time – don’t you?”
“Admit that your uniform pants are indecently tight? Sure – I’ll admit it.”
“That you like checking me out when I’m on the field.”
“It’s not hard,” she whispered distractedly, falling into his hooded gaze. “I look for the biggest clod out there who looks lost…”
“That same clod that’s doing back flips in the grass so you’ll notice him,” he breathed softly as his finger and thumb turned her chin upward – as her lips parted. He was so close, his eyes were so warm, so soft… so everything.
“That’s the one… that’s my clod,” she managed to get out as their breaths mixed and his lips grazed hers softly once… twice… three times before he kissed her – and the world stopped turning.
The clock stopped.
The music went silent.
Everything, every heartbeat, every moment melted into that kiss between them.
His taste, the scent of soap mixed with something else, was invigorating, the feeling of his lips claiming hers felt like coming home for the first time ever.
Her hands pulled free of his, sliding around the back of his neck as his arms moved, circling around her in an unexpected embrace.
Steffi never anticipated him ever kissing her – and now she knew that he was the only one she ever wanted to do this.
As their kiss broke, they stared at each other, both breathing heavy and obviously speechless at what just happened. It took several seconds for them to finally move apart as they each cleared their throats awkwardly.
“They sell lip scrub, you know…”
“Did you have tuna for lunch?”
And then looked at each other again.
Those verbal shots, those jabs safely met and playfully given, neither of them meaning a thing.
Their eyes met, sparked, and a recognition and awareness flowed in the air between them…
and Drake crossed the room with zero hesitation.
He pulled her back into his arms, kissing her once more as if he couldn’t get enough of her, of them.
“I thought we were supposed to be dancing…” she whispered between kisses and heard his soft, knowing chuckle.
“I suck at being a dance teacher – and your two left feet look divine in those high heels,” he offered tenderly – and she melted, curling her arms around his shoulders in surrender.