STROKED LONG (18 page)

Not wanting to get all philosophical with her, I say, “I want to make sure her feelings aren’t hurt. I want to apologize.”

“Well then, apologize.”

“It’s not that easy for me. Please, Eva.”

Those two little words said in my rough, regretful voice has her turning around and sitting back down on the couch.

“You’re not being fair. You know I can’t walk out on you when you’re like this.”

Through my hands, I tilt my head to look at her. I know I look like a ragged fuck right now, a desperate man, and that’s why I’m hoping she will school me in apologies. I’m not an idiot, I know how to say sorry, but not in this kind of context to a woman I’m actually interested in.

“What do you want to accomplish with this apology?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” I rub my head and open the muffin box. The bran and wheat smell is overpowering. I must be the only one who enjoys it. “I want her to not be mad at me. I want her to talk to me, to maybe be my friend.”

“Do you want anything more than that?”

“Of course I do.” I bite into a muffin, not really enjoying it, but if I don’t eat something my metabolism is going to eat my own damn stomach. “But there are so many complications that come with extending any kind of relationship with Ruby beyond friendship. I have so much fucking baggage, Eva, and I don’t think she would be willing to stick around when she sees it all. And fuck, I’m awkward.”

“She is aware.”

“She is?” My head snaps up. “She told you I was awkward?” Shit, that’s embarrassing. Like I do with all people apart from Coach, Eva, and Lauren, I have developed an effective and practiced façade of cool and calm. And with Ruby, I’ve tried even harder so she doesn’t see me as some awkward piece of crap who doesn’t know how to talk to a girl.

“No.” Eva chuckles, not helping the rapid increase of my heartbeat. “But she’s been around you long enough to know you’re awkward. Come on, you were awkward at the coffee house. I know you try hard not to be, but there are times you show it and that’s okay. It’s endearing, makes you seem human and not like some uptight Olympian who has no desire to talk to anyone.”

“Does she think that of me?”

“NO!” Eva answers, exasperated. “I will not be your little messenger. If you want to find out how she feels about you, then you’re going to have to ask her yourself.”
Holy. Fuck. No.

“Yeah, I can’t do that.” I rub my palms on my pants. “I’m a pussy, I know, but I have to work this slowly. Baby steps. It’s all new to me, outside my comfort zone, so I think I’m going to tell her I want to be friends.”

“Aww, something every girl wants to hear,” Eva says sarcastically.

“Come on, Eva.”

Placing her hand on mine, she smiles up at me. “You know I’m kidding. I think that’s a good idea. Friends first . . . lovers later.”

“Don’t say lovers.” I laugh.

“Aww, that makes my heart feel better, hearing that laugh of yours. She’s working at the club today; I say you pay her a little visit.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” I ask, already starting to feel the nerves rolling around.

“For you, no, but I’m pretty sure Ruby will let you off easy. She’s cool like that.”

“Yeah.” I exhale. “She’s pretty damn cool.”

***

My palms are sweaty; my anxiety is at an all-time high; and I’m so fucking nervous I’m two seconds from retreating. I’m sitting in the classroom next to the one Ruby teaches in, leaning against some cabinets while holding a bouquet of daisies—Eva’s idea. One of the girls who works at the club is pulling Ruby out of the classroom right now and what should be a two-minute task seems like an hour as I wait impatiently, running my apology over and over in my head.

Just as I’m about to give up and leave, the door to the classroom opens and Ruby enters, looking confused and asking, “What’s going on?” over her shoulder. When she turns toward me, her face falls and her cheeks redden.
Shit. She doesn’t look happy.
Is she embarrassed?

From behind, the girl who helped me shuts the door, giving us complete privacy.

“Hey,” I say lamely.

Looking around, Ruby asks, “Um, can I help you with something, Bodi?” She’s being professional. I have to hand it to her; she’s much stronger than I am.

Extending the flowers out to her like a robot, I say, “I got you flowers.”

A little finesse, Bodi. Christ.

She doesn’t move so I realize I have to make a better attempt at this apology. I can’t be Robot-Bodi; I need to
use my feelings
.
I sound like Eva.

Stepping forward, I hand her the flowers, and she graciously takes them. What I think is going to warm her up, only confuses her even more. Her brow is furrowing.

Sticking my hands in my pockets, I shift in place and take a deep breath. “I was an ass this morning. I know you heard what I said to Eva, and I want you to know I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Bodi, you don’t need to explain,” Ruby cuts in. “We’re colleagues, I get it. Last night I overstepped your boundaries and asked too much. I apologize and promise it won’t happen again. From now on, we act strictly professional toward one another.”

Fuck that and fuck me. This is not the same Ruby I’ve grown to know.
Like. Feel safe around.
There isn’t a spark in her eye, a smirk to her pouty lips, or energy in her beautiful voice. She’s lacking her sparkle, and it’s slowly splintering me in half.
Because I caused this.

“I don’t want that,” I say honestly. “You are more than someone I work with, Ruby.” I grab the back of my neck, feeling unsure of my footing, and then choose to speak to her honestly. “I’m not good with this kind of stuff, and I really have no experience, but you make me want to try. Maybe we can be friends.”

“Friends?” There is a slight twitch of her lips that makes me think my Ruby is coming back.

My Ruby? Shit.

“Yeah, friends. I, uh . . .” I clear my throat and look her in the eyes. “I like talking to you. And even though you try to get me to eat sweets, I like hanging out with you as well. You make my days fun.”

Now there is a full-on, mega-watt smile gracing her beautiful face. The flowers in her hand are now pressed against her chest in a hug, and she’s moving toward me.

“I would love to be friends with you, Bodi.” Opening her arms, she steps into my space and pulls me into a hug. Her face rests against my chest, and smelling the sweet scent of her shampoo instantly puts me at ease.

Wanting to reciprocate the affection, I wrap my arms around her and pull her small body closer into mine.
That’s bullshit. I want to hold her because I like holding her.
Not because I want to reciprocate. “I’m sorry for being an ass this morning, Ruby. Sometimes I react before stopping to think. And poorly at that. I enjoyed last night.”

“It’s okay, Bodi. I could see you were under duress.”

“You don’t have to forgive me that easily.” I chuckle. Eva was right.
I’m pretty sure Ruby will let you off easy. She’s cool like that.
Yeah, she is cool like that.

“Eh, what are friends for?” Pulling away, she fixes her hair and says, “As a friend, I have to ask, when do you leave for the Olympic trials? I need to know when I can come over to celebrate with Double Stuf Oreos.”

I wouldn’t put it past her to do just that, although I could envision her doing so with party poppers, those annoying whistle things, and a bundle of balloons. It would be a bitch to clean up afterwards.

“The day after tomorrow. And I’m not on the team yet so don’t get too excited.”

“Please.” She pushes my shoulder. “We both know you are a shoo-in. Which means, I will be buying some Double Stuf Oreos and when you return, we shall cheers our Oreos and celebrate, because you will celebrate with me, won’t you?”

She stares up at me with her big brown eyes, making my chest tight. I would pretty much give this girl anything she wants right about now, not just because of how beautiful she is, but because of how she makes me feel. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to enjoy someone else’s company or laugh, or even joke around, and the mere fact that Ruby has been able to achieve that so easily lets me know I need to keep her around.

There is something about her I can’t let go.

Pushing my hands back in my pockets and rocking on my heels, I answer, “Of course I will celebrate with you.”

“Yes,” she cheers, throwing some fake guns my way and spinning in a circle.

So strange, yet, so fucking adorable.

RUBY

“Are you really coming over, or is this one of those things you say you’re going to do but then you end up calling me five minutes before you’re supposed to arrive and tell me you decided to board a plane to Bora Bora instead?”

“That happened once. It was a hell of a deal, and I couldn’t pass it up,” my friend Andrea says into the phone. “I promise, I’m coming over.”

“Good, because I’m not going to go all out and make red, white, and blue Jell-O just so I can sit on my couch and eat it by myself while watching the Olympic trials on TV.”

“Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t done that before. I specifically remember in college you taking down an entire box of those Lofthouse frosted cookies in one sitting.”

Those cookies are deathly addictive. I had to do step aerobics for five days straight afterward to make myself not feel so chunky.

“In my defense, I was riding the crimson tide.”

“Ugh, gross. Ruby, don’t say that. You’re not an eighty-year-old woman. Just say you were bleeding out of your vagina.”

I push my cart around a huge display of chips in the grocery store and say, “Yes, because saying I’m bleeding out of my vagina is so much more appropriate.”

“Watch it,” an elderly woman says as she bumps into my cart. “And watch your mouth, you harlot.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” I apologize profusely, but the little wrinkle sac doesn’t even give me a second glance as she continues to bump into other shoppers on her way to the Poise Pads.

God help me if I ever accost people while trying to buy products for my leaking bladder.

“What was that?” Andrea asks.

“Some old bird needing Poise Pads. Remember that time you tried on a pair of Poise Pads underwear and peed in them?”

“Can we not bring up my past indiscretions? I’m trying to make it as a kindergarten teacher here. I don’t need people knowing I would get drunk, pull on some Poise, sit on the toilet, and pee.”

“But those are some of my fondest memories of you.” I laugh, throwing some shampoo in my cart.

“And that’s why I’m coming over tomorrow, so I can create some new memories, ones that won’t have me committed.”

“I wish I could say everyone was doing it, but you were the only one brilliant enough to want to pee your pants.”

“It was for science!” she shouts in the phone, making me laugh.

“Thank God for science or else we would never know the capacity of pee a Poise Pad could hold.”

“You’re just having too much fun with this, aren’t you? How about you tell me why you have a need to watch the Olympic trials, huh? Does this have anything to do with the sexy Bodi Banks?”

She knows me all too well. Normally, I would have no need to watch the trials. The Olympics, yes of course, I’m an American, but the trials, eh, I could take it or leave it. But with being Bodi’s
friend
now, I want nothing more than to see him succeed.
It has nothing to do with seeing his sexy, wet body emerging from the pool. Nope. Not. At. All.
Liar!

His friend. The thought makes me giggle. How cute was he, giving me flowers and asking me to be his friend? It made my heart melt into a puddle. He does that quite often actually with his boyish charm. Here is this two-, soon to be three-time Olympian, with the most amazing body I’ve ever seen, a voice so husky it makes your toes curl, and a smile that will make you orgasm right on the spot, toeing the floor shyly and asking if I can be his friend. Holy hell, how is someone supposed to say no to that?

Do I want more? Uh yeah, I really want more between us, but I will take friendship right now because now more than ever, it looks like he needs one.

Not wanting to confirm or deny my obsession with the reigning gold medalist, I say, “I’ve just become very interested in swimming lately. I took a class the other day, and I’m fascinated with the sport.”

Andrea guffaws into the phone, not accepting my blatant lie whatsoever. “Okay, Ruby. Whatever makes you sleep better at night.”

“I really am . . .” Everything in my brain shuts off as I turn the corner and make eye contact with the one and only Reese King. Three time Olympian, Reese King. Underwear model, Reese King. Voted as the Sexiest Man Alive, Reese King. Man with gorgeous tattoo, Reese King.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

“Uh, hello? Are you there?”

In a wave of one sentence, I say, “Can’tTalkGotToGoReeseKingHereHotTattooInMyFaceCallLater.” I press the end button and stand still as he walks past me, not choosing to acknowledge my gaping mouth.

Because I’m a nosey creeper, I glance in his cart and see shaving cream, dial soap, Swedish Fish—at least he eats sweets—and some naturally roasted almonds.

Fumbling with my phone, I pull up Bodi’s name in my contacts and text him.

Ruby: You will never guess who I made eye contact with at the grocery store.

Putting my phone on top of my purse, which rests in the front seat of the cart, I wait for him to text back while I contemplate stalking Reese behind a stand of pickles.

I don’t have to wait long because as I’m scooting closer to the next aisle to see if Reese is down there, Bodi texts me back.

Bodi: Madonna?

What? I laugh out loud, by myself, next to a shelf of dill pickles.

Ruby: Why would you say Madonna? How does that even come to your mind?

Bodi: I heard she was in town.

Ruby: Yeah and I’m pretty sure she has assistants do her shopping for her.

Bodi: You never know; she seems down to earth.

Ruby: Well it’s not Madonna, sorry to blow the wind out of your sails.