Rushed: A Second Chance Sports Romance (4 page)

I
guess
I shouldn't be all that upset. I mean, like I told myself just a few hours ago in the airport, it has been a long time. A lot happens in our teenage years, and recalling the names or looks of people you spent a couple of weeks with at summer camp is really stretching it. Other than Tyler, I can't recall how any of the other people in camp really looked, and I'm not even sure about some of the names, really.

Still . . . he was my first kiss, dammit! I mean, maybe I'm not his, but he's still mine! And he didn't even think about how in the hell I was supposed to get anywhere from the hotel, since he kept the keys to his rental car, thank you very much!

At least Toronto has a good mass transit system, but still, a wave of dark depression threatens my mood for the rest of the afternoon as I go back to the Fighters offices, verify the appointment with the real estate company for tomorrow, and get in my own car to go. The ten year old Nissan isn't very good, but it's all I can afford right now, and the price was right — totally free. It was my Mom's car before the early onset Alzheimer's got its hooks into her mind and she lost her license. Dad tried his best, but he's been in hospice for the past six months himself, which in the end means that I have a used car . . . and no parents, really. I'd rather be walking.

Despite my foul mood, I stop by the electronics store, looking over the models. Tyler said he didn't want a high-end phone, something cheap and just for voice and texts I guess.

"Excuse me Miss, can I help you?"

I turn my head and see the store clerk, a young woman about my age who's got that sort of empty, 'hey, I'm smiling because it's my job' sort of smile on her face. I did a couple of retail jobs when I was in school, I can understand. "Well, I'm looking for a phone. A friend is here from the States, and wants a simple phone. No data plan."

"Simple, huh? Well, there aren't too many phones like that any more . . . let's see."

In the end, I picked out something I think he’ll like and head back to my apartment. I open Tyler's phone and start the drudgery part of my job, the little things that I made sure to write down. First, I programmed in the phone numbers for the team offices and Coach Blanchard, the Fighter's head coach. Next, on a whim I turn the camera on and take a selfie, smiling and tagging it to my phone number.

That night, while I'm laying in bed, I'm still not able to get Tyler off my mind. He's so handsome, and my body remembers the feelings it had years ago. If anything, the desire is even more acute for me because I actually know what it’s for, and what it can lead to. The idea of Tyler and I sends warm shivers down my spine and pools in my belly, until I remember the look in his eyes when I was just about to ask him if he remembered me from summer camp. It was a look of total non-comprehension, and my question died on my lips before it ever came out.

Still, I can't get him off my mind, and as much as it hurts, I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

"
S
o the next
property is a little closer to the stadium than what you originally said you were interested in, but it's so convenient, right next to the expressway, and you have a tremendous view of the Lake as well," the real estate agent, a stacked blond who's been flirting with Tyler since the moment she met him at the office, glows as we approach the tall white high rise. "Best of all, the rent won't break the bank, the owner only wants sixteen hundred a month."

"That's better than the last place, over by the university area," Tyler notes, looking up. "They wanted another eight hundred a month. What's the difference?"

"This building isn't as new, and it doesn't have the wrap around balcony," the agent says, "but on the other hand, you won't have as many girls interested in a place like this."

Oh my god, can it get any more ridiculous? I clear my throat, and look at the packet the agent's given to both of us, me more as an afterthought. "The rent includes utilities?"

"Except for hydro, yes. Oh, and one other difference, this unit has only one bathroom, but that shouldn't be a problem for you, right?”

"Right," Tyler muses, looking up again. "Well, let's check it out."

We take the elevator up to the tenth floor, and I'm jealous as soon as I walk in. Freshly laid parquet flooring, a nice sized real kitchen with a door and a pass through island, a dining nook that is big enough to not intrude on the living room area, and two bedrooms? I know my place isn't the worst, but this makes my place look like a craphole.

"The views are nice," Tyler says as he looks out of the balcony.

"It is," the agent says, pushing close enough to Tyler that her breasts are pushing against his arm. He notices, and while he gives her a little smile, he still steps away from her. She's not his type, I can tell that for sure. "On the other hand, the place downtown . . ."

"Was eight hundred dollars a month more," Tyler finishes. "Excuse me for a moment. April, can I talk to you in the bedroom?"

His words, even though I know they’re innocent, cause me to blush again, and the real estate agent gives me a knowing smile even as she stares daggers into my back so hard I can feel them. I follow Tyler into the bedroom though, where he closes the door. "What can I do for you, Tyler?"

"Honest opinion . . . which is better, this one or the more expensive one?"

"From a team perspective, they would like you more toward Downtown. Low crime rates, smaller space, less chance of you getting in trouble."

"But?" he says, his eyebrows quirking.

"But you took one look at the water and the parks, and you made your decision," I finish for him. "You like having that much nature visible outside your door."

Tyler gives me another look, one of the ones that I've come to understand means that he is pleasantly surprised. I want to tell him that it's not because I have magic powers but because I remember so much about him, but I just can't seem to. He obviously doesn't remember me anyway, so what's the point of looking like a schoolgirl with a crush?

"Okay," Tyler says after a moment. "So what's next?"

"Next . . . well, you need furniture for this place, and your car is just a short term rental, so we need to get you a longer term replacement. Even though the stadium is going to be just a five minute walk from here. You could walk to work most days."

Tyler thinks about it, then shakes his head. "I think I'll keep the car still. Is there any way we can get another Mustang?"

"Let's find out."

The real estate agent isn't quite as happy as she had been when Tyler says he'll take the apartment, as she's got to be losing out on a bigger bonus for it, but still, Tyler's sexiness is magnetic, and I notice that she writes another phone number on the back of her business card that she hands him after he signs the rental agreement.

"Once the Fighters transfer the deposit, the keys will be available for pickup," she nearly purrs as she slips the card into his shirt pocket. I'd expected Tyler to be wearing just a t-shirt like most of the new players, but instead he's wearing a Tommy Bahama button down Oxford casual and looks amazing in it. "But I think I can let you do some mental decorating now. Call me if you have any problems."

Tyler gives her a knee weakening smile and she almost floats out the door as he and I look around. He's excited, and I realize that for him, this is the first time he's actually rented his own place. When he turns around on the balcony and is sporting a ear to ear grin, I can't help but return it. "This is pretty fucking awesome!”

"Tyler, as someone who's rented her own apartment for a while, trust me, the charm wears off," I reply, shocked at my forwardness. I've never been this forward with the other players, I'd just let them run wild. That's probably been part of my problem, actually. Maybe I am following Mr. Larroquette's advice, or maybe it's just because it's Tyler.

Tyler's grin doesn't falter, and he waves me toward him, turning around to lean against the railing of the balcony, and giving me a nice view of his butt. "Come on April, look at this," he says, his eyes looking out over the lake. "Isn't this a great view? And you're right, I'll be close to the water. By the way, why'd you say no water yesterday?"

"It's great now, but come the end of the season and through winter, the wind off the lake can be chilly," I answer, leaning on the railing next to him. "Toronto's pretty cold in winter. Hope you like snow."

"I guess I can put up with it for a few weeks, before the Cup, you know? Off seasons back in Cali, come up here in spring . . . hell, it'll be nice weather year-round for me."

His words throw ice water on the reality of my situation, and I swallow deeply. "Yeah, I guess that'd be nice."

Tyler blinks, and realizes what he just said. "Yeah . . . sorry about that. I'm not trying to throw shade on Toronto, just . . . ah hell, you know."

"I know."

Tyler's grin comes back and he looks at me. "Let me make it up to you. I noticed down the block from the hotel the other day there was a pretty nice looking club. Do you ever go out clubbing?"

"Not often," I admit, with not often meaning not ever. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that even in regular social events I end up keeping the potted plants company while other people have fun. I could never imagine getting the guts worked up to actually go to a club with the sexy people.

"Well then let's go. I can be your wingman."

I laugh, I can't help it. "My wingman?"

"Sure," Tyler continues, not getting that I know what a wingman is, but laughed because I've never seen myself in a situation like that. "I mean, it's gotta be the same here as it is in L.A. You go out to a club by yourself, and you look desperate, lonely. You go with a wingman though, especially one who is the opposite sex, and suddenly you look confident and attractive."

“I… I guess," I say, looking down. "What's the club?"

"Ace High, I read about it on the Internet and I double checked the address last night, it's close," Tyler says, and I nod. I've heard of it. At least Tyler didn't ask to go to a swinger's club like Double X or Hedonista. He's handsome enough that he could get in the door despite their usual rule of women or couples only. "What do you say?"

I take a deep breath, and before I can answer, Tyler leans in, his shoulder pressing against mine. Chocolate and batteries . . . Jesus, I'm still so turned on by him. "I'm not ordering you as part of your work. I'm just asking if you’d like to go have some fun?”

“O… okay," I stammer out. Keep him out of trouble, they said, and here I am taking him to a club. Or he's taking me. Or . . . ah to hell with it. "I'm going to need to change though."

"Yeah," Tyler agrees. "We both do."

"Well, first we need to get you some furniture, set up delivery for tomorrow, and then go to the Fighters' offices to get that check cut for the real estate company. I can do the check and stuff by myself, but it’s your place, you’ll need to be there for the furniture."

Tyler grins and punches me in the shoulder lightly, just like he used to all those years ago. "Sounds great. Let's go."

* * *

I
feel frumpy
. It's the only word to describe it, looking at all the hot girls in their skin tight dresses that show off every curve they've got, or nearly illegally short skirts that are even hotter. Meanwhile, I'm here in a knee length skirt and blouse that, while kinda see through, is nowhere near as sexy as what I see around me.

Tyler though . . . just walking up, eyeballs clicked as he passes the line and heads toward the velvet rope of the VIP entrance. His muscles bulge under his shirt, still a Tommy Bahama but a tighter, more form fitting cut that showed off his biceps more, and black dress jeans that are probably a 'normal' fit, but with his muscled thighs and hips, look more like slim fit or skinny fit. I can't help but notice the curve of the bulge in between his legs, something that never crossed my mind all those year ago. I've got the hottest man in the club on my arm, and I can already feel the looks of the she-wolves in line.