Chapter Nineteen
Dylan
What am I doing? What am I doing? Dylan watched Lucy, long-legged and sure, as she strode over to pick up the catcher’s equipment he’d brought along. He’d set it out hoping it would create a buffer, a “this is all business” gesture.
It hadn’t worked. He should’ve known it wouldn’t. This would probably end up way more complicated than he liked, but there was a definite pull between them. He’d thought if you gave a pair of magnets enough distance they wouldn’t call to each other. In this case, he’d been dead wrong. Just watching her bend to pick up the catcher’s helmet made his pulse race. She moved with catlike grace. She knew what she wanted and she went for it.
That, he could respect.
The fact that he was what Lucy wanted? As much as he hated himself for ignoring Otis, and for swerving away from his rule about no girls, knowing how much Lucy wanted to be here flattered him. It was exciting.
And damn hot.
Most of the girls he’d dated before were….well, proper was an old-fashioned word, but maybe traditional was more accurate. They weren’t shy about letting him know they were interested, but they wanted him to take the lead, dropping hints until he asked them out. They wanted the full production—having him pay the check, waiting for him to kiss them, elaborate prom-posals, the whole deal. Fortunately, he was good at figuring out how to navigate the unspoken rules. Lucy threw the rulebook out, and it kept him on his toes.
He’d never kissed girls he barely knew—or burned for the chance to do it again—until now.
Lucy glanced over her shoulder at him, her smile teasing. “Are we going to meet wherever we’re going, or should I leave my car here?”
It was a challenge. The first of many, he supposed. “I’ll drive.”
Her smile widened— He’d passed the first test.
She helped him carry everything back to his car, then hopped into the passenger seat without waiting to see if he’d open the door for her. Yeah, definitely not traditional.
“Where are we going?” she asked. Her cheeks were flushed, but he didn’t think it was the heat. “I’m not dressed for anything too fancy.”
“Dolly’s?”
She nodded. “I owe you a burger, so that’s good.”
They didn’t talk much on the way to the drive-in. After all her brash behavior, Lucy seemed to have gone shy on him.
He liked that, too.
Once they parked and ordered, he decided he had to say something. “So, um, you’re a senior next year, right? Where are you going after high school?”
“Design school, with a minor in business. I like to do needlepoint, but I sew, too. My mom taught me young, and I want to turn it into a career like she has. Texas Women’s has a good program and it’s local. With my dad in the Army, I get a break on the tuition, too. You?”
He hadn’t expected her to have such a concrete plan. He blinked. “Um, baseball. I’m going to try to get into the minor league farm system.”
“Farm system?” Lucy’s nose wrinkled. “When I think of that, I think of Serena’s chickens, not baseball.”
He gave her a blank look. “Serena has chickens?”
Suddenly conversation was a lot easier. Lucy’s chicken T-shirt collection made more sense, too, although he had to admit the Pooh/Star Wars mashup was funny. “Where do you get all those shirts?” He reached out and fingered the hem of her sleeve. “They’re hilarious.”
She flushed. “You don’t think they’re stupid?”
“No. Just because I’m boring and wear Nike and Under Armor all the time doesn’t mean I don’t like fun stuff.”
She bit her lip, eyes shining. “You know, the first time I met you, I thought you had a stick up your ass.”
He laughed outright. “My friends tell me that all the time. I like to think I’m focused, but maybe I’m just uptight. I don’t mean to be. I just have a goal, and I’m willing to do anything to make it happen.”
“I can respect that. Uptight isn’t the same as disciplined, so I’ll cut you some slack.” Lucy put her shake in the cup holder and reached out slowly to rest her hand on his knee. His entire nervous system centered around the touch of her fingers on his skin. “You ever watch The Breakfast Club?”
He wasn’t sure he could form a sentence with her hand on his leg, but he managed. “My mom made my sister and me watch it a few years ago. Said it proved she knew what it was like to be a teenager.”
“Remember when the weirdo and the jock got together?” Her lips curved in a mischievous smile. “This could be kind of like that.”
Dylan cleared his throat, glad the A/C was blasting. Otherwise he might have melted by this point. “You aren’t a weirdo.”
“Oh,” she whispered, leaning closer. “You really have no idea.”
His pulse stuttered. No, he didn’t…but he wanted to. “Try me.”
He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and brushed her lips with his. Her hand tightened on his knee, and she deepened the kiss, teasing his lower lip with her tongue. His temperature shot up another thousand degrees, and he might never, ever catch his breath again, but he couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of her mouth against his.
Then, there was a knock at the window.
“Damn it,” he breathed. With a sigh, he turned.
Nate, their shortstop, grinned and waved, motioning for Dylan to roll down his window.
He did, giving Nate an annoyed glare. “Yes?”
“Oh, just thought I’d say hi!” Nate leaned to the side to wave at Lucy. “Hey!”
She laughed. “Howdy. So, you picked right now to say hi?”
“My timing is excellent.” Nate winked at her and Dylan wondered if the shortstop would be able to play one-handed, because he was seriously considering rolling the window up on the one resting on the door. “How are things going?”
Dylan groaned under his breath, but Lucy, still smiling, said, “They were going really well. But I can definitely appreciate a solid interrupt.” She held out a hand for a high-five. “Good work, my friend.”
Nate turned to Dylan. “Okay, dude, I like her. I’ll be on my way.”
He waved and walked toward a car full of Dylan’s teammates, who were all clutching their stomachs and laughing their assess off. “Asshats.”
“I think they’re funny. They respect you.”
Dylan rolled up the window and raised an eyebrow at Lucy. “How do you figure that?”
“It’s like kids interrupting their parents when they kiss or hug.” She nodded in the direction of group of laughing guys. “They just wanted you to know you have their attention.”
Sure, but he wasn’t looking for attention. No, in fact he had an overwhelming urge to be alone…with Lucy. “Want to drive back out to the fields? No one’s there.”
Lucy sat up in her seat, hands folded in her lap. “I don’t know…sitting in a car alone with a boy in a remote location? What will everyone say?”
Dylan’s eyebrow twitched. “You said that with a straight face, even.”
“I thought you might like girls who are worried about their reputations.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. At least, not about that.”
She leaned back, giving him a look that burned him straight through. “What if I want you to surprise me?”
That was enough. He backed out as fast as he could without rear-ending anyone and drove back to the little league field. Lucy watched him, alert and curious as a cat. That’s kind of what the whole thing felt like—like when one of his mom’s cats gave him the time of day, but he felt like he was being examined for character flaws. How did those damn furballs do that?
He pulled in next to her Jeep and put the car in park, suddenly not so sure he was doing the right thing. There was a lot in the way of this working out, and he wasn’t a “just have fun for a day or two, then part ways” kind of guy. Wasn’t that why he’d sworn off girls? Because he had to go all in?
“Two-dollar bill for your thoughts.” Lucy smiled, but there were worry lines around her eyes. She was, he noted, also keeping her hands folded in her lap.
“My thoughts aren’t worth two bucks.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to keep his eyes focused on the steering wheel and not straying to Lucy’s long, bare legs. It didn’t work. “Look, I’m…this is a weird time in my life. I’m not sure I’m in a good place for a relationship.”
She cocked her head. Her hair was coming out of its ponytail and a pink-tinged strand fell into her face. “What are you afraid of, really? I keep asking if it’s me, and you keep saying no, but I’m kind of getting a complex.”
He frowned. “Afraid? I’m not afraid.”
Lucy put a hand on the door handle. “Yes, you are. I don’t know what you’re scared of, but you’re scared all the same.” She shook her head. “Call me if you decide I’m worth the risk.”
Dylan felt her words like a punch to the gut, swift and painful. God, she was right. The word risk held everything he was worried about. You’re only seventeen, dumbass… How come you’re acting like you’re forty, and every decision has a life-ending impact? Maybe he had goals. Did that mean he shouldn’t try to live a little, too? Because it seemed like a waste of time not to.
And he hated wasting time. Especially when this girl made him feel alive and bright as a star.
Dylan caught Lucy’s arm before she climbed out of the car. “You’re right. I’m scared…but I don’t want to be.”
She let go of the door handle. “What do you want?”
“A chance to know you.” He breathed out the words, hardly believing he said it. “A chance. That’s all.”
She settled back in her seat, searching his face. “You sure? I don’t really like having my feelings hurt.”
“I’ll be careful with them. Promise.” He held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Dylan Dennings. I like chocolate ice cream, going to the lake, and Westerns.”
A slow smile lit up her face. “Westerns?”
“My dad and I used to watch them on weekends. Clint Eastwood is a badass.” He motioned at his outstretched hand. “Your turn.”
She took his hand. “Hi, I’m Lucy Foster. I like embroidering crazy stuff, pizza in all incarnations, and chickens.”
He shook her hand then let it go, smiling back. “We kind of jumped into the kissing part of ‘getting to know you.’ Maybe we should’ve started here. Then I could’ve asked about the chickens first thing. What else do you like to do for fun?”
For the next hour, they talked. That was it. In the car for a while, walking on the trail until they were too hot, then back in the car. By that point, he knew the names of Lucy’s favorite hens, had seen pictures of the goth wedding dress—amazing, really amazing—and found out her favorite color wasn’t pink, but maroon.
“It doesn’t work well on dark hair,” she said, gathering a handful of her ponytail to show off the pink tips. “A lighter, brighter color pops more, so I did this instead.”
He reached out, not even thinking, and ran his fingers through it. Her hair was silky soft against his rough skin. “I like it.”
She closed her eyes and leaned into his hands. “I like what you’re doing.”
His heart banged against his rib cage. He was falling fast, despite what he said about taking time to get to know her. Completely sucked in, head spinning like the vortex of a tornado.
His hands shook a little when he reached back out, moving slow, to pull the ponytail elastic from her hair, letting it spill down her shoulders. He toyed with a strand, then dug his fingers into it at the back of her head, massaging her scalp and neck.
“You can keep doing that all you want,” she murmured, her eyes still closed.
Dylan laughed softly. “My secret weapon.”
“It’s a good one.” Her eyes fluttered open. They weren’t quite focused as she cupped his cheek and pulled him closer. “I already know you’re a good kisser, but I’d like to try it again…to make sure I’m right.”
He shifted closer to her in his seat, until their faces were an inch apart. Her breath was warm on his jaw. “I’ll do my best. This is for science after all.”
Her eyes fell shut, and he leaned in…
Her phone buzzed, loud, from the cup holder. She jumped and pulled back. “Sorry about that.” She looked at the screen. “Um, I have to go. My mom is looking for me.”
The way she said it sounded like she might be in trouble. He couldn’t understand why, but he nodded. “I had a good time.”
Her smile was shy. “Me, too. We should do this again.”
“Tomorrow,” he said, thinking fast. He wasn’t ready to let her go. “Meet me at the marina at three.”
Before he could blink, she leaned across the seat and quickly brushed her lips against his. “Tomorrow.”
He watched her drive away, knowing he was past any hope. Lucy had him, hook, line, and sinker.