Real Challenge (Atlanta #2) (12 page)

“Did you know I was in the Olympics?” he asked the blonde now that they were away from the noise of the speakers.
 

“You were?” she asked in her well-buzzed voice, looking ditzy and wide-eyed. “Wow! That’s
awesome
. Did you get any of those little trophies they let you wear?”

Thank goodness he wasn’t after her for her brain. God, he probably didn’t even have to impress her. She was ready to party anyway.
 

“Yes I did,” he grinned at her seductively, moving in to kiss her again. She kissed him back passionately, obviously ready to give him just what he wanted. He pushed her against the wall and lifted her up. She eagerly wrapped her legs around him. He didn’t waste any more time. He pushed up her skirt and reached for his wallet. Once he had himself under cover, he took her right there against the wall.
 

Triumph.
 

Victory?
 

She was easy, drunk, willing, and probably would have done just about any decent-looking guy here. Hell, she didn’t even stick around with him. She was already back out on the dance floor. Had he and Sean traded conquests for the night, Sean would have been pushing her against the wall. She was just some random fuck.
 

He used to live for the rush of that. For some reason, taking his victory with Kaylee/Kyla was empty. He leaned his back against the brick wall behind him and looked at the spot where he had just fucked a girl whose name he wasn’t even sure of.

Sean peeked his head around the corner and saw Scott leaning there, staring at nothing. “I thought I saw you come down here…where did Katie go?”

In the relative quiet of the hallway, Scott just said, “Back on the floor, probably looking for her next fuck.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m good. What happened to whats-her-face?”

“Strike out. I guess she was hoping for a super-athlete or something,” he said smiling, trying to lighten his friend’s mood. He clapped his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Come on. I’ll buy you a shot in honor of the new notch on your proverbial bedpost.”
 

Scott knew Sean was trying to cheer him up. All Sean accomplished was to make him feel worse. They went back to the bar for a drink and Scott found that he was suddenly bothered by all the noise. He must have been too tired from work.
 

He didn’t understand any of this. Why was he bothered? Half of him was glad for the physical release he so desperately wanted, and that same half of him justified the hook-up by reminding himself that Cassie had said no booty calls with
her
. She hadn’t forbade them from anyone else.
 

But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the other side of him quietly nagged at his conscience. But still, why should he have to justify his playtime at all? He had been a party-boy for years, no apologies necessary.
 

Besides, all this internal conflict was ridiculous because he and Cassie had really only had two dates plus one lunch date. This was not a long-term relationship. He had promised her nothing, not even hinted at commitment. She left him for two months anyway. He owed her nothing. And he had a headache.

“Hey, Sean, I gotta get out of here. You can crash at my apartment tonight if you want to,” he shouted over the pulsing din of the music.

“Already? The night is young, my friend!”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he laughed. “I have to work tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?!”

“Here’s to tax season…may it ever rot in hell,” Scott said clinking his empty shot glass with Sean’s. “You coming back with me or staying out?”

“I think I’ll stay a while longer before heading back to the hotel. Good to see you, man,” he hugged his friend before walking out to the sidewalk. Scott hailed a cab to take back to his apartment. There was no way he should be driving. Even without the alcohol he may have wrecked just from trying to sort through the mess in his head.
 

When he got to his apartment, he walked in and crashed on his couch and stared at the ceiling for a while, still sifting through his thoughts as he sobered up. He justified his actions to himself eight different ways, but somehow he felt like he cheated on Cassie, even if there was no official relationship.
 

Cassie was different, one of a kind, and seemed worth any effort he needed to put forth. Being with her was an experience unlike any other. Katie/Kaylee/Kyla was nothing but a random hook-up and empty sex. He got no rush from his “victory” like he once would have.
 

The physical gratification at the club was satisfying, of course, but with Cassie he already understood how much
more
sex could be. With Cassie there was freedom and a connection that came from letting go of his game. He could be
with
her, no effort involved. Sex went beyond physical satisfaction that way, and the concept baffled him.
 

Suddenly, everything seemed clear. He grabbed his phone and hit up the contact list under the letter T until he found Miss Thinkursmooth. He was about to dial when he stopped himself. She didn’t want him yet. Not until his work schedule let up. Ok. Three more weeks.
 

Hell. No.
 

It was past midnight and he hit the call button anyway.
 

“Scott?” he heard her sleepy voice say. He smiled at the sound.

“Hey, Cassie.”

“This isn’t a booty call, is it…” she laughed in the most adorable way when she spoke. Scott felt instantly better when he heard her. She was raw and honest. She knew exactly who she was. He was starting to catch on.

“No, I’m not breaking that deal. I just wanted to say hi. Work sucks, my night was a disaster, and I selfishly wanted to talk to you,” he said honestly. “I can’t promise you any time, but I wish I could. Will you still be there in three weeks?”

She was silent on the other end and he held his breath. Had she moved on? Did she somehow sense he screwed up at the club? Was she angry that he called before he was supposed to?

“Scott, if you want, I can be there right now.”

“But…”
 

He didn’t want to finish that phrase. But nothing! He wanted her desperately. He wanted her energy, her challenge, her attitude, her hot body. He wanted all of her. Immediately.
 

Another moment of clarity hit him. The only reason she backed off in the first place was because he pushed her. She wanted honesty. She wanted the real Scott. Well, here he was and he honestly wanted nothing more than Cassie in his arms…like right the hell now.
 

“Yes, Cassie, I want to see you. I don’t have a car at the moment. Will you come over here?”

“Text me your address. I’m on my way,” she said.

He immediately texted his address and a few basic directions to get there. Twenty minutes later she was at his door wearing faded jeans and a vintage concert tee knotted tight at her lower back.
 

“Cassie…” he barely breathed out her name before he pulled her in for the tightest, most amazing hug of his life. He lifted her up and let her feet dangle while he held her so strongly. He couldn’t let her go, which was ok, because she held on just as tightly.
 

He carried her like that over to the couch and set her down just long enough to sit and pull her against him again. He laid back and tucked her in beside him, just like they slept that first night on Marcus and Erin’s couch. Cassie rested her head against his chest and sighed contentedly.

Cassie was thrilled to be there with Scott, and even more so because he showed no signs of his puffed-up act, no façade. She saw emotion all over his face. He was upset, he was relieved to have her with him, and he flat out told her that he wanted her there because his night sucked. Every word and action was honest and true. She reveled in the moment because all of this was
him
. She wanted nothing less than that for either of them.
 

“I would tell you how much I missed you,” Cassie started with a grin, “but I’m afraid it would only feed that Olympic-sized ego of yours, so I’ll just pretend I didn’t miss you. Ok?”

“Sure,” he said back easily. “And in return I won’t tell you that you’re the first good thing I’ve seen in weeks. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said with a big smile. She felt him hold her a little tighter and she wondered why he seemed so emotional.
 

They didn’t speak for a while until Cassie couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. “Why was your night such a disaster?”

“You want honest, right?”

“Always,” she said simply. There was no reason for anything else.

“Well, I honestly won’t talk about it. I think I screwed up, but it lead to a moment of clarity.”

“Well that’s rather dramatic,” Cassie said playfully, trying to keep things light. “But ok, I won’t ask about the screw up. What about the clarity? Am I allowed to ask about that?”

“You don’t have to ask. I’ll tell you: I realized the difference between who I was and who I might be.”

“That’s big.”

“I know.”
 

“Are you going to tell me more?”

“Nope.”

“Ok,” Cassie said. She was just glad he wanted to talk to her and see her. She was glad that he was still thinking about her. She was glad he was being honest, and she didn’t have a hard time figuring out his screw up. He smelled like a bar. She knew what a player he was.
 

She also wasn’t a hypocrite. Many of her teen years were spent going after random hook-ups. She learned her lesson a long time ago; Scott may have figured his out just tonight. She was glad he wanted to share his clarity with her.

She was surprised, though, that he didn’t even try to kiss her. She knew he hadn’t called her for a quickie, but she half-expected him to try anyway. She understood that he was having a bit of a moment here, so she kept herself restrained, too. Being next to him for the first time in about a month reminded her body how incredibly awesome his was. She tingled from being a part of their chemistry again, even if they weren’t going to do anything about it.

“Hey, Cass? Can I ask you a favor?”

“You called me Cass,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back. “Work is driving me nuts and tonight is finally feeling like a rescue, but I still don’t have a car. I left it downtown at a bar. I can get it tomorrow if I call a cab, but I have a much better idea.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’re willing to help a guy out, can you drive me in the morning to get it? You can stay here tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch and you can have the bed,” he offered.
 

Now Cassie took a turn feeling strange. She didn’t like to spend the night with a guy, couch or not. Sleeping over implied an emotional connection she wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet with Scott. She couldn’t even think in those terms until tax season was over and he was ready to try for a real relationship.

She thought back to the time and reason for her hang up about spending the night with a guy. She had been
very
promiscuous in her high school years. She tried to find some semblance of love or affection she never got at home. She hadn’t let herself get used like that in long time, but the experience did give her a rather free attitude about sex.
 

She had adopted a philosophy of physical pleasure only. Emotion had been long removed from the equation. But staying an entire night with someone made her feel vulnerable. Her philosophy was backward from most people’s views of things, but true for her.
 

“I don’t know if I should…”

“Hey, no problem. I’ll call a cab in the morning,” He said with genuine acceptance. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “I’m just glad you came over.”

“Me too. How’s tax season going?”

“Ugh. Too much work, not enough time, and too many clients who have no clue what we need from them. It’s like asking for an ocean and getting a puddle. They never send enough of the information we need and then they gripe at us for not doing our jobs. It’s aggravating.”

Cassie wanted to scream at him, “THEN WHY DO YOU STILL DO IT??” but she couldn’t. Now that she understood him a little better, there would be no more conversations about who he really was until well after his busy schedule was over. He was stressed and she wasn’t going to make his night any worse. She only wanted to make his evening better, so she brought up the only topic that put a smile on his face.

“So are you still swimming?”

“Every day. It’s the only thing keeping me sane,” he said.

“Where do you go? I can’t picture a champion like you at the Y dodging soccer moms and toddlers,” she laughed at her mental picture.

“Actually, I have privileges at the natatorium from the ’96 games. It’s on the campus at Georgia Tech and they use it for their swim meets and classes. Since I was on the team in ’04, they let me use the pool. In exchange sometimes I help out with the program there. I help with training schedules, I’ve filled in for practices, I even taught a beginner’s class one summer semester in the evenings. It was kind of cool. They also let swimmers train there for other local or national competitions. Did you know there’s actually a competitive swimming club for adults? It’s called the Master’s Program.”

“Have you ever done that? You’d probably blow them out of the water. Almost literally,” she said with an ornery tone in her voice.
 

“Nah, once I got Olympic Gold, I couldn’t go any higher. I finished out my college career and moved on.”

“Ah. What is training like?”

“Depends on what you’re doing. When I was training for Athens, I was in the pool working my ass off at least two or three times
a day
. I took a whole semester off just to swim. When I wasn’t in the pool, I was power-housing through pounds of pasta and protein for the energy I needed just to keep up. It was intense, but completely awesome. I can’t even describe it.”

“That sounds amazing,” she said. Swimming was obviously his passion. He spoke about the sport so easily, so reverently, with no hints of frustration or complaints. She wondered how he didn’t see his true calling so clearly. He had been offered coaching jobs. He taught a course. He could still be living in that world he loved so much.