Fall has definitely arrived in North Carolina. It’s a welcome change for athletes like me who have to be outside for the better part of the day. But the arrival of fall is just another reminder that I’ve not so much as gotten the object of my affection to go on a date with me in the last few months, let alone speak to me more than a hello in passing.
I’m never one to give up on a challenge, however, which is why this morning I’ve got the guys running a different route than normal. I never claimed to be above following her around to see what her routine is. So, as we pass by Fetzer Hall for the third time in ten minutes, she finally emerges, wearing a cute little track suit that she wore to the gym. She has removed the jacket and it’s tied around her waist, revealing the tight sports top she worked out in, along with the sexy sweat spot that sits in her cleavage.
Damn, that’s hot.
When she steps out into the blast of cool air, she closes her eyes and smiles as she takes in a big breath. It almost makes me need to leave immediately and take a cold shower.
She starts to jog in the direction of her dorm, running with fluid grace, when we conveniently come up behind her.
The guys hang back while I pace alongside her. “Hey, Baylor, is it?” I ask, as if her name hasn’t been imprinted on my brain for over two months.
It’s hard to see the blush creep up her already flushed face, but it’s there.
“Oh, hi,” she says smiling, but not breaking her stride. “It’s Gordon, right?”
Crack.
There goes my fuckin’ heart. She broke it right here on the sidewalk. How could she not remember my name? We had that crazy electrified touch that day. This has never happened to me. I must be in some alternate universe or something. I should turn around and walk away now. Ordinarily, that’s what I’d do. Not that chicks ever turn me down, but why waste my breath on this one when there’s probably ten more within shouting distance that would love to be with me. But I can’t. I can’t turn around. I’m drawn to her for some inexplicable reason that’s completely foreign to me.
She must see the shocked expression on my face and she giggles.
Oh, God, that sound. If I only do one more thing on this earth, it will be to get her to make that sound again.
She says, “I’m only teasing. Hi, Gavin.”
I think I love her. Can I love her after only talking to her one time?
Of course not, you pussy, I tell myself.
One thing’s for sure. I’ve met my goddamn match with this girl. I can feel it. I’ve just made it my life’s ambition to get her to go out with me. She’s different. I could see that even back at orientation. The way she is with people, she’s obviously selfless and completely unaware of how great she is. She couldn’t give a crap how she looks or how people see her. She doesn’t get all swoony over me showing her attention—although that blush kind of gives her away. She wants me, too. Maybe she just doesn’t realize it yet.
“You want to run with me? Uh, with us,” I ask, gesturing to the posse behind me.
“Maybe some other time,” she says. “I’m just jogging back to my dorm. I’ve got an early class today.”
Crack.
There it goes again. I know she doesn’t have a class before nine o’clock because I followed her last Wednesday. And today is Wednesday. Maybe she skipped that day. Yeah, that’s it, she skipped last week so now she has to go to this weeks’ class. Otherwise, I’m sure she would run with me.
“Okay, great. Well, I’ll see you around then,” I say, pulling away to try to save what little face I have left.
She calls out after me and I almost fall over my own feet. “If you can be at Fetzer this time Monday, I’ll run with you.” Then she turns down the path to her dorm.
I spin around. “It’s a date, er, yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you then.” I roll my eyes at myself. Since when have I ever been flustered around a girl? It never happens. Ever. Until Baylor.
I’m completely screwed.
I turn back around to see my friends doubled over laughing up ahead of me. Yeah, I knew they’d find something to rib me for sooner or later.
“I’m so glad you have a bye weekend so you can finally come to a game with us,” Karen says, hooking her arm around my elbow on our way to the football stadium.
That’s one more thing that sucks about playing soccer. We have to miss all the football games, and the team is pretty good this year, too. But this weekend is one of those rare bye weekends during the season and I plan on making the most of it. A lot of the guys on my team have pitched in to organize a party tonight at an off-campus house. We even got our coaches to back off Sunday practice by agreeing to fit in a long one this morning. It’s all coming together perfectly. The only thing that could make it better is if I could somehow get Baylor to the party. She doesn’t hang out in the same circles as I do, which is mainly athletes and sorority chicks. Ha—I can’t imagine Baylor in a sorority.
“What’s so funny?” Karen asks.
I didn’t realize I laughed out loud. “Nothing,” I say. “Just glad to have the afternoon off to see the game.” Jonesy and I walk with Karen and Marcie to the stadium.
We get to the concession stand where Jonesy and I stop walking. “Want some nachos or one of those big salty pretzels?” I ask Karen.
She looks at me like I’ve grown a third arm. “Are you kidding?” she asks. “And ruin my entire week of dieting?” She shakes her head. “No, I’m saving my calories for drinking beer at this party of yours tonight.” She jumps up and down and claps her hands. “Oh, I can’t wait. We’re going to have so much fun!” She pulls Marcie out of line. “We’ll meet you at our seats,” she says.
Jonesy and I watch them walk away. “You’ve got to nip that in the bud, man,” he says.
“Nip what in the bud?” I step forward as the line inches closer to the counter.
“You know she thinks you’re into her now, right?” He nods in the direction of the girls.
“What? That’s crazy,” I say. “Why would she think that?”
He gives me a hard stare. “Gavin, you haven’t screwed a girl in months.”
“And she thinks that—”
“Yup,” he cuts me off.
“But . . .” I shake my head and look at him in question.
He simply nods at me in affirmation.
“Oh, shit,” I say.
“I heard her tell Marcie that she thought you were finally coming around and she didn’t think it would be long before you realized what you had right in front of you,” he explains.
“Double shit,” I say.
“Dude, you have to set her straight,” he says. “She’s wanted you since what, third grade? Don’t lead her on. Either shit or get off the pot.”
“Lead her on?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “I’ve never—”
“I don’t think she sees it that way, Gav,” he interrupts.
I’m next in line at the counter, so I get out my wallet to remove a few bills. Then I look across the crowd and I see her. Baylor. She’s with some guy, not Asswipe, some guy with a camera around his neck. She’s talking to a group of students while taking notes. Oh, that’s right, she’s into journalism. And the guy is taking pictures. They must be covering the game for the student paper. She puts a pencil behind her ear, which I find completely adorable in a sexy-librarian kind of way.
She looks up to catch me watching her. I’ve never seen a brighter smile light up a girl’s face, and I notice what I didn’t before. She has a dimple in her right cheek. Life’s ambition number two: see that dimple as often as possible.
“Sir! Sir, what can I get you?”
I turn around to see that I’m holding up the line and quickly give the guy my order before turning around again. She’s gone. Dammit.
I spend the rest of the game perusing the stands to try and find her. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Literally, there are sixty-three thousand people here, so what are the odds I’ll find one tiny girl among them?
Apparently, not very good.
On our way out of the stadium after the game, Karen gets a call. She and Marcie have to rush back to the sorority house to avert some kind of fashion catastrophe. Jonesy offers to walk them back since it’s starting to get dark. I agree to head on over to the house and help the guys set up for the party.
I’m walking toward the parking garage when I see a group of three guys up ahead. They are standing in a circle, a couple of them swaying like they’re drunk. One of them falls off to the side. That’s when I see Baylor standing in the middle of them—looking terrified while clutching her notebook securely against her chest. I run closer only to see one of them put his hands on her.
She shouts, “Hey! Leave me alone, you jerk!”
“Jerk?” says the asshole who has his hands on her. “Who are you calling a jerk? I just want to have a little fun, that’s all.” He pushes her hair behind her ear.
That’s it. I’m killing him.
Thank God I don’t need my hands much for soccer. Hell, even if I did, I don’t think that would keep me from pushing his two friends aside and punching Jerk in the face. Baylor leaps to the side while the guy falls to the ground, blood running out of his now-disfigured nose. I stand over him, keeping his friends in my peripheral vision in case they are stupid enough to jump me. “If you don’t want more where that came from, I suggest you apologize to the lady and then get the fuck out of here.”
He looks up at me to see just how much I mean what I said. Then he mutters a groaned apology through his hands that are cupped over his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” I motion for his friends to come pick his ass up off the ground and I watch as they walk away, leaving little spatterings of blood on the sidewalk every couple of feet.
I turn to look at Baylor—pale and shaking. “Are you okay, Baylor?” I step towards her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
She shakes her head at me, unable to speak. I can see her bottom lip quiver and I know she’s going to cry. Shit. I hate it when girls cry.
She inches forward and stutters, “Th-thank you.” Then she collapses into me.
I hold her up by wrapping her in my arms. Damn, this feels good. She fits perfectly against my body with my chin resting comfortably on the top of her head. I hate that she had to get harassed by some prick in order for me to hold her like this.
“Shhhh,” I whisper into her hair, as she silently whimpers. I’m trying not to be obvious when I inhale the sweet scent of her shampoo. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” I reassure her.
A minute later she looks up at me all puffy-eyed with a bit of black crap smeared under one of them. It doesn’t matter, she’s still gorgeous. Her captivating eyes hold me prisoner as I reach my thumb up to wipe a tear that helps get rid of the smudge. I wipe my hand off on the back of my jeans and think that I may never want to wash them now that her tears are on them.
Pussy.
I shake my head at myself.
“I must look a mess,” she says.
“You look fine, Baylor.” I smile down at her. “Pretty as always, in fact.”
She gives me half a smile. Not the one that brings out that dimple. “I’m so glad you came along. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she says. “I had interviewed them for the paper before the game and they were nice enough then. So when they called me over, I didn’t think . . .” She shakes her head. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, Baylor. You’re not stupid,” I say. “You just need to be more careful. Where is the photographer that was with you before the game?”
“He had to leave early.”
“He left you to walk home by yourself?” I ask angrily, now wanting to pummel him as well.
“He had an emergency,” she says. “It wasn’t his fault. I should have gone straight home like I told him I would.”
She’s still shaking. I can’t leave her like this. I look at where we are and realize that just around the block there is a great coffee shop.
“Coffee?” I ask.
She looks up at me with an adorable wrinkle in her nose that makes my dick jump in my pants.
“You need to calm down,” I explain. “Why don’t we go around the corner right quick and get a cup of coffee so you can relax.”
She giggles softly, making my own smile reach my eyes. “Well, I’m not sure coffee will help me relax,” she says. “But okay, maybe something chocolate would be nice.”
Despite the fact that I’m fairly sure she still has a boyfriend, I lead her around the corner to the place that I will always consider to be the location of our first date.