Chapter 21

Ollie

I looked over at Elana as we drove along, listening to music. She looked absolutely gorgeous with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, a pair of ripped jeans on, and a light sweater that dove far enough down in the front for me to see her collarbone. I turned off the main road and through the outskirts of the city. As I turned into the mini-golf course, she laughed, shaking her head. I smiled, pulling the car into a parking spot and putting us into park. I loved that she was already finding humor in our date. It was part of what made us who we were together.

“I hope you’re ready to get schooled at putt-putt,” I said, smiling.

“Are you trying to intimidate me, sir?”

“No, no,” I said. “Just don’t want you to walk out of this date feeling like you lost something. I mean, it’s only natural to feel that way when you’re put to the test.”

“Those are awfully big words,” she said, looking over at the course. “Especially since it seems you may have the same skills as that nine-year-old over there, whooping his sister's butt at the game. I mean, I’d be proud.”

“I am,” I said with dignity.

“I should warn you, though. I went mini-golfing every weekend in elementary and middle school with my cousins.”

“That was a very long time ago,” I pointed out. “Why haven’t these cousins taken you since then?”

“They are fearful of my mad skills with a putter,” she replied, shaking her head. “People tend to shy away from those with all the skills. They couldn’t handle the pressure.”

“I see,” I said, shaking my head.

She was trying hard not to laugh, which made me want to laugh even more. We sat there in contemplative silence for several moments, neither of us willing to fold and give in to the laughter. I watched as she bit her bottom lip, looking for control, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath to relieve the pressure.

“I mean, seeing that this is a date and everything, I’m willing to let you take a handicap,” she said. “You know, just to keep up the morale. I know I can be intimidating.”

“That is so nice of you,” I said, smiling.

“It is, isn’t it?” she replied, starting to lose her composure. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

As she giggled to herself, trying to keep a straight face, I burst into laughter. She looked over at me, and without the ability to continue the charade, she followed suit, bending at the waist and laughing loudly. We sat like that until the laughter died down, and I had an idea. I liked her confidence. It was sexy, but what this needed was something a bit more daring.

“Though a handicap is very generous of you,” I said, folding my hands in front of me. “I was thinking maybe we do something a bit more.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A wager,” I said with glistening eyes. “Lowest score wins.”

She pursed her lips and thought about it for a second before nodding her head. We got out of the car and headed to the stand where I paid for a round of eighteen holes, and then we collected our clubs and balls. She picked the bright blue ball, since her favorite color was blue. I picked the bright orange one, just because I felt like being a little loud. We made our way to the first tee, and she looked over at me, laughing as I pretended to do some stretches. She watched me walk up to the tee and place my ball, crossing her arms and staring. Just as I began to swing, she called out.

“Wait,” she said, causing me to miss the ball.

“Yes?”

“If this is a wager,” she said, “then what exactly does the winner get?”

“That’s a very good question,” I said, walking away from the ball. “It has to be good.”

“And slightly embarrassing,” she pointed out.

“Of course,” I said, nodding my head.

I wanted to take this opportunity to make the prize not only well worth winning, but an excuse for us to spend more time together. How could I resist making a prize that would ultimately force her to want to be around me more? In my mind, win or lose, I was going to be a winner in this situation.

“I’ve got it,” I said, pointing at her. “Whoever loses has to the winner’s servant for an entire evening. So basically, when you lose, you have to wait on me hand and foot for an entire night.”

“You mean, when you lose, you’ll have to wait on me the whole night?”

“Semantics,” I said, waving my hand and ignoring her laugh. “The servant will have to cook dinner for the winner and clean up afterward. What is the point of having someone cook your dinner if you have to force yourself to be the dishwasher after? I’d personally rather just get takeout.”

“True,” she said, putting her hand to her chin. “Which house?”

“Winner’s choice, of course,” I said.

“Of course,” she replied, pacing back and forth and looking down at the ground.

She stopped and looked up at me, cocking an eyebrow and thinking. I loved when she got into this mode. I never knew what was going to pop up. She had a really good mind for these kinds of things, which was probably why I was glad that I made up the rules, especially since I wasn’t positive that I was going to win. The last thing I wanted was to be dressed like a chicken, running around the campus with no pants on. She was devious. I couldn’t let those pretty blue eyes fool me.

“I don’t know,” she said. “That seems pretty tame for a servant.”

“All right,” I said, taking a deep breath. “The lady is disappointed with the winner’s pot.”

I paced back and forth, twirling my gold club around, nearly hitting her and smiling sheepishly. She lifted one eyebrow at me and watched me as I walked back and forth. I wanted to come up with something that would satisfy her, but still not result in me in some crazy getup, committing public acts of indecency. I took a deep breath and put out my hands as she sighed with annoyance.

“Okay, okay,” I said. “Sheesh, woman. You are a hard one to please. How about this? The orders given to the loser, a.k.a., the servant, will be at the winner’s discretion.”

“Better,” she said. “All right, you start.”

I nodded my head and walked over to the ball, lining it up and wiggling my hips back and forth, glancing up as she giggled. With the first stroke of my club, we were off, competing for the ultimate prize, control over the other person for at least one evening. It turned out that Elana wasn’t lying. She was actually really good at mini-golf. I was starting to realize that the possibility of me losing was really high up there. She got ahead of me from the start, knocking pretty much every ball in after only her second putt. My palms were starting to get sweaty at the thought of being under control for an entire evening. It could turn out really good, or it could turn out really bad. It just depended on the mood she was in. I tried valiantly to come back from where I was trailing, but she was too damn good. I couldn’t even win one hole against her. It didn’t really matter to me; the time we were spending together was what was important.

“Your butt looks good when you wiggle it like that,” she said, laughing. “You better be careful. There are a lot of lovely, older ladies around here.”

“By older, you mean had lunch with Jesus?” I replied, looking around. “I do have to say, though, yours doesn’t look too shabby, either.”

“Maybe I’ll pick up one of these rich old men,” she whispered, elbowing me and raising her eyebrows.

“You would make a ravishing gold digger,” I replied with laughter.

We flirted pretty much the entire time we were playing, which was exactly what I was going for in the first place. When we reached the last hole, the tensions were high. I had to get a hole in one, and I still would only win if she royally screwed it up. I got up to the tee and took a whack, landing the ball only inches from the hole. I pumped my fist and smiled at her, watching her walk up and take aim. I walked ahead on the sidewalk and bent over, clearing my throat and pretending to tie my shoe. She stifled her laugh and took in a deep breath, pulling the putter back and hitting the ball. We stood frozen, watching as it bounced over the fake putting green, hitting the corner, rolling quickly across, bouncing off the backside, and then finally, inching closer and closer to the hole.

“No way.” I grimaced as it reached the lip of the hole.

“Yes,” she said, putting her hands in the air as she watched the ball plummet into the bottomless eighteenth hole.

“All right,” I said, putting my head down. “I admit defeat.”

Elana laughed as she ran around me in circles, chanting her own name and holding her putter high above her head. I watched as she danced to the sound of the terrible instrumental playing over the loudspeaker, making fake screaming crowd noises and bowing to everyone around her. Finally, out of breath, she walked back over and slapped me on the shoulder.

“You gave it your best, servant,” she said, smiling.

“Please, just have mercy on me,” I said, walking toward the shack to turn in my club. “I’m not much of a cook.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true.” She chuckled. “You’re probably a regular Martha Stewart.”

“If Martha Stewart enjoys warm pop tarts and anything that doesn’t have to be cooked outside of the microwave,” I said, “then, yes.”

“Why would you suggest it as the winning pot then?” She shook her head, laughing as she handed over the putter to the guy behind the desk and took the scorecard from me. “I do have to say, I may frame this.”

“I dunno,” I said, shrugging. “I just thought I would win.”

She walked slowly over to me with a pouty face, tapping me gently on the arm before pulling a large smirk across her lips. We walked back to the car and hopped in, leaning back in the seats. I let out a deep breath. That had been really fun. We drove off toward her house, the date being over, but me desperately not wanting to take her home. When we arrived, I walked her to the door and leaned in, giving her a restrained kiss.

Though I was incredibly attracted to Elana in every way possible, I was dedicated to taking things slowly, just as I had told her. It wasn’t just for her, though. It was for me, too. I figured if we took our time and really enjoyed each other, we had a better chance at working through our own personal issues while keeping the relationship intact. I had to admit, though, it was hard letting her go without kissing her senseless. I jumped in the car with electricity moving swiftly through my chest, watching her hips sway as she moved through the door and inside. I sighed as I pulled off, looking down and realizing that, yet again, I had an erection from just thinking about Elana. I knew then that it was going to be a really long couple of days until I got to see her again, and I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out.