Chapter 28 #2
We’re out the door as soon as the check is paid.
Trevor takes my hand, and we stroll down McQuaid Circle like it’s something we do every day.
He squeezes it tightly when we pass the coffee house, and leans closer.
“If I were a betting man, I’d say you want to skip the bowling and take me straight to bed. ”
“Good thing you’re not a betting man, then,” I say and quicken my stride as if to prove a point that I’m impervious to his charm.
He chuckles. “Game on, sweetheart. More time for me to make you wet between those gorgeous legs.”
I quickly look around.
He laughs loudly this time. “What? Do my dirty declarations embarrass you?” When I don’t answer, he whispers in my ear, “They do. But they also turn you on. Admit it, you like the beard for more reasons than one. You like the way it tickles your thighs. The way it heightens your sensitivity when it grazes your clit.”
By the time we reach Calloway Bowl, my entire body is thrumming like I’m standing on a live wire. And I swear to God he knows it. He’s reveling in it. I think he’s a man on a mission. A mission to drive me completely and utterly insane with want.
In the same gentlemanly fashion he’s done all night—sans the dirty talk—he opens the door for me.
We stroll up to the desk. “This is Monty Langston,” I say. “He owns the place.”
Trevor reaches his right arm across the counter. “Nice to meet you.”
“Meet me?” Monty laughs. “Boy, I’ve known you since your daddy brought you in for junior bowling league when you could barely see over this here counter.”
Monty is old—mid-eighties, I’d say—so I give him a pass at remembering what Trevor has gone through. “Monty, Trevor was injured when he was a doctor in the military. To him, he’s just meeting you for the first time.”
“Aaaaaah, yes. I remember now. What is it the reporter called you? Amnesia Doctor?”
Trevor scoffs at the title. “Yeah, that’s me. Can we get a lane?” His words come out a bit rough, like he’s uncomfortable with that moniker and the attention it’s bringing.
“Ava! Trevor! Over here.”
I spin around to see Maddie and Tag. “The lane next to them, please, Monty.”
He hits a button and the lights on the lane light up. “Shoe sizes?”
We tell him and then we’re off.
Tag and Trevor fall into easy conversation as we lace up our shoes. Then Tag excuses himself and comes back a few minutes later with a pitcher of beer and four plastic cups.
Maddie doesn’t miss my reaction. And it’s obvious she’s kept my secret from her husband. She sits next to me when Trevor picks out his ball. “Still haven’t told him?”
I shake my head guiltily.
“I’ll take sips from yours. Nobody will notice.”
I lean against her and squeeze her shoulder in thanks.
“Ladies first,” Trevor says, sitting and entering our names into the scoreboard.
I pick out an eight pound ball, suddenly realizing this could be similar in weight to the baby when it comes. I cradle it in my arms for just a second, hoping and praying that when I tell Trevor, he tries to be as understanding with me as I’ve been with him.
I completely miss all the pins on both tries. In my defense, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this.
Trevor picks up his much heavier ball with his left hand, confidently strides to the line, and proceeds to knock down all but the left corner pin.
My jaw drops. “But you’re right-handed.”
He lifts up and wiggles both hands. “One of the benefits of being a surgeon. We have to pretty much be ambidextrous to do the job well.” He gazes off into the distance, deep in thought. “At least I think so.”
“Dang, bro,” Tag says. “You did that with your non-dominant hand?”
“Just got the cast off last week. I don’t need to risk re-breaking the arm by twisting it awkwardly.”
“So not fair,” I pout. “I didn’t even hit one pin.”
He waggles a brow. “Care to make a wager, considering I’m playing with a handicap?”
“Handicap my behind.” I roll my eyes.
He walks up to me, tucks a stray hair behind my ear, and gives my butt a soft squeeze. “You didn’t ask what we’d be wagering. And it might just have everything to do with that delectable behind.”
I have to keep from biting my lip, because who knows what that’ll do to him. I just brush him off as if his little game hasn’t affected me in the least.
He smirks arrogantly before swiftly knocking down the last pin for a spare, then crooks his finger at me, beckoning me to join him.
I get my ball and walk up to him.
“Let me show you.”
I know good and well how to bowl. I’m just rusty is all. But the way he’s putting his arms around me, showing me how to stand and where to release the ball, has me going all warm and gooey, so I let him.
When I turn and see Maddie sneaking a drink from my cup, she raises a brow at our flirtatious encounter. I shrug and give her a playful smirk.
I purposefully mess up the shot so he’ll do it again. Based on the cocky look on his face, he knows it, too. And he likes it.
And boy do I like that he likes it.
We spend the next hour flirting and bowling and laughing.
I’m not even sure either of us noticed when Maddie and Tag left.
Let’s just say our focus has been pretty well centered on each other.
Because with the way he’s looking at me, the man wants to eat me alive.
And I’m all too eager to let him. At this point, I’d let him do anything. I’m putty in his hands.
“Take me home already,” I say in pure desperation, even before the last game is finished.
His smile is a mile wide as he gently pushes me down onto a seat, crouches down to remove my shoes, then whispers, “I can’t wait to remove every goddamn piece of your clothes, especially these jeans.
Do you know how good your ass looks in them?
” He kisses the skin just below my ear. “My cock has been hard for you all night.” He nibbles my earlobe. “Are you wet for me, Ava?”
I swallow and nod.
“I’ve been dreaming of tasting you again all day.”
I sigh, put a hand on his chest and push him away so he’s looking at me. “I’ve been dreaming about tasting you too.”
“Fuck. I think I just came a little bit.”
I laugh giddily knowing I’m getting to him just as much as he’s getting to me.
He sits on the seat next to me, takes off his shoes, hands them to me and says, “Mind paying Monty? I need a minute.”
I take his shoes and happily go pay for our games knowing exactly what’s in store, all the while trying not to feel guilty about this being the best date we’ve ever had.