So Different (8 page)

“Hey, Casper,” she said, giving one of her sexiest smiles to Adam. She kept her eye on him for a second before turning her attention to Casper. “Well?” she said, preparing herself for Casper and her end-of-the-game critiques.

“Good job. You’re getting better. Your timing’s improving, helped you get by Delicious that last jam,” Casper said as Adam looked on.

“I invited your boy here to join us for drinks following the game, to help us celebrate. You still want to come?” Casper asked, looking over at him.

“Maybe,” he said.

Mariah was quiet, looking at Casper, communicating who knew what. “We usually hang out at this bar, Pinky’s Place. Ever heard of it?” Mariah asked, turning to face him now.

“No.”

“Pinky’s is just up the street from here, a few blocks north, at the corner of Forty-fifth and Sylvester. Think you can find it?” she asked, skating closer to him.

“Sure. What time will you be there?” he said, looking down into her eyes. He moved his hand to her waist.

Mariah turned her head to Casper. “What time are we done here, close to 9:30? We should be there around ten,” she said, returning to face him.

“Ten works,” he said.

“I’ll see you around,” Casper said, leaving them alone.

“Pinky’s,” he said, both hands on her waist now.

“Yep. Pinky’s,” she said, not moving, looking up into his eyes. He was such an easy read—full tank, engine a-revving to go.

“Maybe we could hang out afterwards,” he said.

“That sounds like fun,” she said, moving her arms to surround his neck.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, his arms rubbing her sides lightly as he pulled her in closer, eyes on her lips. The front of their bodies touched now and there was no mistaking what he wanted from her. He smiled. His smile packed a powerful punch.

“I need to change,” Mariah said.

“Don’t,” he whispered, touched his lips lightly, quickly to hers. She just smiled her sexiest smile. She gave him another smile over her shoulder as she skated away.

She was something else. He cleared his throat and followed the sway of her ass as she moved away, pleased with tonight’s outcome and the potential the rest of the night presented. His blood started in with its energetic humming. He’d meet her at Pinky’s and see if things could move in a direction he wanted. Tonight was looking good.

* * *

He spotted Pinky’s from a block away. It was hard to miss. He stopped for cash, killing time; didn’t want to be sitting there waiting, like some sick pup. He wasn’t that hard up.

Pinky’s, not surprisingly, was decked out in pink—a Pepto-Bismol pink. The bar had a pink brick façade and a pink elephant on top. He parked in front and made his was to an equally pink leather door.

He entered, looking around. He was surprised to find it empty. He checked his watch; it was a little after ten now, maybe they were running late. He’d sit at the bar and wait.

An hour later, he checked his watch for the last time. No need. He knew. At 11:30 he paid his tab and left. It was official. He had been stood up. No sign of anybody derby-related. She’d given him the wrong place deliberately, so that meant what? She wasn’t interested. He was surprised. She didn’t seem angry about his earlier assumptions, but rather seemed on board when he stood in front of her. He knew desire when he saw it. Had he misjudged her again? He couldn’t recall ever being this off on signals. Jamie, the ex, was always in his head, a constant reminder of his past mistakes, and now this. He should go home. She wasn’t his type anyway, but for some reason, garbed in those clothes, she had him coming back to first the derby and then here.

* * *

Mariah stood at the end of a large table, a pad in her hand. She was playing waitress for her team. She knew what working through a dinner rush was like, so her allegiance always fell in with the waitresses. She looked over the table at all of her teammates; ten, plus Delusional, Casper, and Casper’s girlfriend, all here to celebrate their victory. Who knew they could win a game?

They’d arrived at her brother’s place around 10:15 and pulled a bunch of tables together. Joshua’s dinner crowd had dwindled. Mariah was making her way around the table taking the drink orders.

“Dos Equis,” Casper said from her place at the end of the table. Mariah really hadn’t needed to ask it had been Casper’s drink of choice since high school. Casper’s girlfriend was the white wine kind of girl.

“White wine, right, Amanda?” she asked for confirmation.

“Yes,” the attractive blonde sitting next to Casper said. Next to Amanda sat Delusional, who preferred Miller Lite.

“What about you, Reagan?” She was the other African-American on her team. Her derby name was Attitude Adjuster. She sat in between Disillusioned and Miss Thang Sally, a blocker, sometimes pivot for her team, who was not fond of men. At all.

“Vodka and orange juice,” Sally said.

Lisa, aka Little Catholic School Girl, ordered her usual cranberry juice. Lisa was a jammer, sometimes a blocker, who packed a mean punch for such a little girl. She was four feet of nice, but would kick ass if called upon.

Good & Plenty, a blocker who was large enough for two, drank beer. Alyse—Asian Persuasion—liked beer, too. She was soft-spoken until she set foot on the track; then it was on. Team co-captain Becca—AlterKayShawn—preferred water, and Dee—Dirty South—the other co-captain, always did the healthy green tea thing. Then there was Jen—Ms. Nomer, the tequila shot queen, and Courtney—Diabolical, and finally Peyton—Miss Creant and Disillusioned, both drank water with a lime twist.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” Mariah said, all drink orders taken.

“Did Mariah tell you about ditching her dentist tonight?” Casper said as she watched Mariah walk away.

“What dentist?” Reagan asked.

“Hers. He’s actually the son of her dentist, who’s been out of commission. He wanted to go out with her tonight, to drink with her girls, to celebrate their win,” she added.

“So where is he?” Good & Plenty asked, looking around.

“At Pinky’s Place,” Casper said, all drama. She sat back, pleased to have passed along that little bit of info. “That’s where Mariah told him she’d be. She ditched him on purpose. Not friendly is our Mariah,” she added.

“I didn’t ditch him,” Mariah said, walking over to them, setting the tray with the first set of drinks on the empty table next to them. “I
thought
we
were
going to Pinky’s Place, but you guys said you wanted to come here and I couldn’t find him to tell him different.”

The women around the table laughed.

“Did you even look?” Lisa asked. She knew Mariah well.

“Of course I did. I stood next to my car and called for him. Adam,” Mariah said, her voice soft. “Adam,” she said again. “I can’t imagine why he didn’t hear me.” They laughed again.

“Mariah,” Sally said with awe, shaking her head. “I love you.” She was always pleased when someone stuck it to a man. It wasn’t good to be on Sally’s side, Mariah thought, and the lift of Casper’s eyebrows when Mariah glanced over at her told her that also.

Mariah made a face at Casper for telling them about the dentist. She handed the last drink to Lisa, sat the beer she had gotten for herself down on the table, and walked over to the counter to pick up the remaining drink orders.

“What does he look like?” Lisa asked

“Fine. And I’m not into men. He’s about six feet, two inches, has black, thick, run-through-your-fingers hair, nice body. He’s not too lean. I hate skinny, and he’s not that. He has some really beautiful hazel eyes behind some nice black-rimmed glasses, like Clark Kent,” she said.

“Who is Clark Kent?” Reagan asked, looking confused.

“Superman’s alter ego.”

“I thought that was Toby McGuire,” Reagan said with the same confused expression.

“Spiderman,” Lisa said.

“Oh,” Reagan said, still confused.

“I ordered the usual junk food for you bitches, with some healthy shit for Jen and Peyton,” Mariah said, resorting to the normal way they conversed with each other as she made her way to the table with the remaining drinks, some nachos, and fruit for the healthier ladies.

After her team was settled in with food and drinks and the discussion had returned to derby talk, Mariah’s mind drifted to Adam. She took a sip of her beer, half listening to the other talk. Okay, she wasn’t sure why she’d sent Adam to Pinky’s. Fear? Maybe. She was there with him after the bout, pleased to have her arms around him, loved the feel of his solid muscular strength holding her. She had just about lost her mind, taking in his face, all pretty and staring back at her like he could feast for a while.

She had seen that look in his eye the night of the derby, the same one he always wore now, the same one she’d seen him exchange with his buddy, the one conveying deep interest in what was under her skirt. And she was so there with him, but to what end? So she’d done them both a favor and sent him to Pinky’s. Perhaps now he would get the message.

He would leave her alone—she was already too much work. No way would he call her after that, because ultimately she wasn’t his type. They were from two different worlds.

She tuned in to the conversation around her. “I’m just saying it’s not the same derby,” Sally said, as she tuned back into her teammates and moved thoughts of Adam out of her mind for good…she hoped.

* * *

Adam sat in his apartment, his feet up on the coffee table, wishing he knew how to get in touch with Mariah. He had her on the brain. He had given some thought to letting it go, especially in light of what he now believed was a deliberate brush-off at Pinky’s Place.

He had never, in all his years of dating, gotten ditched, stood up, whatever the term was. He would be the one doing the ditching if there was any ditching to be done, and he’d never ditched anyone. He’d been late, but he’d never just not shown up.

His cell rang. He checked the caller ID. It was Michael.

“Hey, dude,” he said.

“What’s up?”

“Not much.”

“What are you doing at home again, on this night for hanging out? What happened to sex on wheels?” Michael asked, with humor in his voice.

“I went to the roller derby last Saturday.”

“I knew it. You liked her. I could tell.”

“Yep. I went back to see her and she sent me over to Pinky’s Place afterwards and didn’t show. Left me sitting at the bar all by my lonesome.”

Michael laughed.

“Exactly,” Adam said.

“So what’s next?”

“I can take a hint,” he said.

“I feel you. Me and a few buddies of mine are headed downtown. You up for it?”

“Maybe. Where?” he said,

“Dazzle’s, Sixth and Guadalupe.”

“Give me thirty,” he said, hanging up.

He was ready to get back in the game, at least in the mindless sex game. Mariah had awakened that need in a strong way. In spite of what he said to his buddy, he was going to try again. It wasn’t like he had much else to do, or at least that was the rationale he was going with. He stood up, walked over and grabbed his laptop. He powered up his computer and found the derby’s website again, searching for what exactly, he didn’t know. He hoped he would come up with an excuse to see her. Something other than showing up at her practices. He could get her number from her dental records at the office, but that went against his code. He didn’t stalk.

After about five minutes of thoroughly reviewing the site, he realized practice would be the only way to go. They were held weekly at either the Rail Yard or the Skate-o-torium, Casper had told him that, too. But which night did she practice?

He googled the address for the Skate-o-torium. He knew the Rail Yard’s location.
What did he have to lose?
he asked himself. The potential for all he had to gain was immense. He smiled at the image of her in his mind, dressed in the outfit from the website. He stared at it for a while before moving on. The other image of her in the red corset, over her short skirt, looking like something from one of those Japanese anime cartoons but with a little less hips; but he could do a little less hips. Yes, starting Monday, he was going in search of one Mariah Scary. He stood up to take a quick shower and then head out for a few drinks with the fellas.

* * *

Monday, first week of April

The website stated that practice was every night at seven, but the teams rotated. So he was taking a shot in the dark that Mariah’s team was here tonight. He walked over to the front of the Rail Yard. The doors weren’t manned, so he entered, and could hear the sound of skates on the track. He stood in the entrance, scanning the women present, searching for her. His eyes landed on Casper moving around the track. Wrong night. Wrong team. He stood by the door and watched and waited until practice was done. Hopefully he could talk to her before she left.

Casper took a break and looked around. “Good workout,” she said, to the women. She sometimes served as the captain, but didn’t like to take the job on paper. She spotted Adam, smiled, and skated off the track and over to him.

“You’re becoming a regular,” she said, smiling at him.

“Didn’t see you at Pinky’s Place,” he said, returning her smile.

“That was Mariah’s idea, and since she was the one you were after, I didn’t speak up. I try to avoid getting involved in domestic disputes.”

“I wanted to see her again and thought she might be here practicing. I was driving home from work, thought I would stop by and see,” he added casually, like it didn’t matter to him either way.

“Her team is here on Thursday nights, and practice isn’t mandatory, so it’s a crap shoot.

“I bet Mariah makes every practice,” he said.

“I’m only trying to save you from having to drive by here every night until you get it right.”

“Why do you think I would?”

“I’ve been on the hunt enough times to recognize a fellow predator,” she said and he laughed. He liked her.

“Thursday,” he repeated.

“Thursday here, or on Tuesdays at the Skate-o-torium,” she said.

He nodded. “Thanks for the info,” he said.

“Sure. Best wishes. Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll see you again, hopefully with Mariah,” Casper said and rolled away.