Sweet Ache
My smile spreads wide until I look down at the papers littering my lap. “Layla,” I groan, “I wish I could, but I’ve gotta get moving on my first draft….”
“You’re seriously going to leave me high and dry?”
My mind flashes to how I’d rather be wet and low with Hawkin, and I hit the heel of my hand to my forehead to stop the insanity. “It’s so tempting because it’s been a fucked-up day for me too…. I just really need to make some headway here before I seriously screw myself with procrastination.”
“I know … but it’s still a helluva good idea. Well, I’m going to—oh my God! I totally forgot! Did you hear who was on campus today?” She says in a rush and from the excitement in her voice I’m really hoping she says Brad Pitt or something but I have a feeling I know exactly who she’s talking about.
“Who?”
“Hawkin—come-to-momma—Play. What I wouldn’t give to play him,” she murmurs as if she’s fantasizing doing just that. “I guess he’s doing some kind of seminar that I’m going to have to crash just so that I can—oh shit! A cop’s behind me, call you right back!” She ends the call abruptly, not willing to risk another ticket for talking on her cell phone and driving without a Bluetooth device. Guaranteed she’s most likely lost the last one she bought like she did the five before that.
I lean back and exhale, thankful for the momentary break in conversation so that I can figure out how exactly to tell Layla about my run-in with Hawkin. And then I wonder why my immediate reaction is that I don’t want to confide in her. Don’t want to knock him off the pedestal she’s set him on even though it’s not warranted. Just because he has a voice begging for sin doesn’t mean he’s the stellar guy she thinks he is.
Besides, it’s not like I’m going to see him again anyway so why am I even stressing over it?
My phone rings in my hand and startles me so much I answer it without looking. “That was quick, Lay!”
A masculine chuckle fills the line. “I’m anything but quick, but the lay part I can make sure of.”
What is it with men and everything being turned into sexual innuendo today? And of course as much as I want to roll my eyes, my lips form an involuntary smile.
“Luke? How—”
“You told me I was focused on the wrong numbers … so I found the right ones,” he says and I can’t help the little flutter in my stomach from the thought that he went the extra distance—like he always seems to do—to try yet again.
I emit a nervous laugh, unsure how to really feel about his continued pursuit. I fall back to my standard use of sarcasm whenever I’m uncomfortable. “Oh, how sweet of you! Were things going so well for you that you needed some rejection so you searched me out?”
“Charming as always,” he replies, humor in his voice so at least I know he took my comment how it was intended.
Unlike a different asshole from earlier today who couldn’t take a hint to save his life.
“You know you can’t resist me.”
“The answer’s still no, Luke.” I know he can hear the fondness in my voice.
“Don’t believe I asked but thanks for shooting me down … again,” he teases.
“And again and again.” I laugh. “How’d you get my number?”
“I have my ways,” he responds, and I have a gut feeling that Rylee is meddling here, handing him my phone number on the sly.
“Are those ways going to end up with my brother’s fist in your face?”
“If it did, would you come kiss it and make me feel better?”
I sigh into the line in response to his relentless pursuit. “Hm. Probably not. I’m not very gentle.”
His laugh is deep and rich and full of suggestion. “You’re such a goddamn tease, you know that? Maybe I like it a little rough.”
“Walked right into that one didn’t I?” I chuckle, feeling a sincere smile on my face for the first time since meeting Hawkin earlier today.
“Sure did.”
It dawns on me that he might be calling for a real purpose, and that I’ve made an incorrect assumption. “So … what can I do for you?”
“You sure you want me to answer that?”
“Give me the PG version,” I state.
“Ah, now that wouldn’t be any fun now would it?” The line falls silent for a beat. “How about we go out sometime?”
One of these days the man is going to wear me down to nothing until I relent. We’ve been following the steps of this dance for so long.
“You sure are tenacious…. I think you need to find a hobby or something to occupy your time besides racing.” It’s so fun to tease him, and in fact it makes me miss Colton and our constant banter.
“Tell me about it. We’ve got a three-week lag until the next race. I need something to chase now since there’s not a spoiler in front of me, so once again I’ve set my sights on chasing you.”
“Well there’s your problem, Mason.”
“Problem?”
“Why you’re having a little dry spell on the track.”
“A dry spell?” He coughs the words out.
“Yep. You can’t cross the finish line in first place if you’re always chasing. You need to figure out how to lead, cowboy, then you just might have a chance at taking the checkered flag.” I hear his laugh and know that I’ve had enough of cocky, overbearing men today. “Maybe next time, I’ll say yes. Good-bye, Luke.”