You Walked In: An opposites-attract, sports-romance novella Page 2

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re the captain of the football team, starting quarterback. Aren’t you supposed to add Homecoming King to the list?”

  “Oh, that.” He grimaces, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks beside me.

  Several moments pass, and he doesn’t say more.

  Fireside is so small, there’s only one traffic light in town, and my aunt’s bed and breakfast-slash-home is one block past it. We’re almost there when I stop, turning to face him.

  “Yeah, that.” My arms are crossed over my chest.

  By contrast to the VSCO girls we left behind, I’m in an oversized sweatshirt and black leggings. My glasses are in place, and my backpack is on my shoulder. My straight blonde hair is twisted into a messy bun on top of my head.

  “We haven’t won a game this season.” He grins, not seeming damaged by this confession. “My brother was always the quarterback. I can just catch whatever he throws.”

  My lips twist, and I think about this. “I don’t know much about football. Still… it seems like you’d put players where they’re best.”

  “After JR graduated, we didn’t have a quarterback. Coach figured the guys listen to me, and I’ve been playing the longest.”

  “But you don’t want to do it?”

  He shrugs, looking up the street. “I don’t know. I mean, I love to play, but football’s not my life.”

  “It’s not?” My chin pulls back. “You could’ve fooled me.”

  The muscle in his square jaw moves, and he thinks a minute before exhaling a laugh. “You really don’t beat around the bush.”

  “I’m just saying how it looks. You sit with the players at lunch, you wear your jersey to school…”

  I don’t mention how I saw him sleeping on a school bench with a football under his head once. Hell, I’m surprised he’s not carrying a ball with him now.

  “All that’s expected if you’re on the team. Like how the cheerleaders wear their uniforms on Fridays.”

  “I thought they did that to show off their butts.”

  He exhales a laugh again, shaking his head. He does that a lot when we’re together. It makes me wonder if anybody’s ever really talked to him before.

  “Anyway, I was thinking… We’re friends, right?”

  “Are we?”

  “I mean, sure. We see each other all the time. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

  I’m not sure attending a birthday party ten years ago counts, but I decide to let it go. My curiosity is at an all-time high. It doesn’t hurt he’s pretty to look at.

  “Okay.” We start walking slowly towards the BnB. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I feel like if I ask one of those girls to the dance, the old ladies will have us married and start knitting baby blankets before we graduate.”

  “Ugh, small towns and old ladies.” I shake my head. I’m familiar with the phenomenon.

  “Old church ladies.”

  “The worst of all.”

  He gives me a real smile, and that flippy little fish is back. It makes me smile.

  “I don’t believe it.” He winks at me. “Is that a smile from frowny Daisy?”

  “I am not frowny!”

  “You have not smiled at me once since you moved here. When I see you in school, you don’t say hello. I was beginning to think you didn’t like me.”

  “You just said we were friends!”

  “I was friends. You were on the fence. Admit it.”

  He elbows my ribs, and I want to argue. He has no idea why I’ve been keeping him at arm’s-length. We’re at the house, and I stop at the front porch steps.

  Aunt Regina’s house is massive, red brick with dark wood accents and a wrap-around front porch decorated with rocking chairs and tables holding checker boards. It’s a natural wind tunnel that catches the breezes.

  The house is far too big for a widow and her teenage daughter—even with me here. It’s why she rents rooms.

  Turning to face him, I look up at where the sun is shining through his hair, making him look like a god. Again.

  “I wasn’t on the fence. I don’t want to get too… attached.” Chewing my lip, I glance to the side. “I’m not planning to stay in Fireside. I want to work in antiques, be a buyer. Anything that lets me travel, really.”

  “You should be on one of those TV shows.”

  “TV shows?” I can’t get over this guy. “Have you seen me? Maybe I could do a podcast, but this is not a face you put on camera.”

  “You’ve got to stop that.” His brow lowers.

  A light breeze pushes past us, and my hair flies across my cheek. As if on cue, he reaches out and slides it off my face, tucking it behind my ear.

  Clearing my throat, I take a step back, scratching my nails over the place he just touched as if to erase the sparkles he left behind.

  “So what’s this all about?”

  “Go with me to the homecoming dance.”

  “No.”

  “What?” He huffs a laugh. “Why not?”

  “I can’t think of a worse idea.”

  “What’s so bad about it? I think it’s perfect. You don’t want to be tied down, neither do I. We should have each other’s backs this year. Whenever an event arises, we can sort-of… you know, protect each other.”

  “I don’t have any events.” Shaking my head, I walk up the first step towards Aunt Regina’s front door. “I wasn’t even planning to go to homecoming!”

  Reaching out, he catches my arm. It puts us eye to eye. His are earnest, and I struggle to hold his gaze.

  “You’re right. You don’t need a wingman, but I do.” He exhales, glancing down. “Will you help me, Daisy? As my friend?”

  Blinking fast, I look away. It’s too much, and in that moment, it hits me. I’ll never say no to him. I’m not sure what that means.

  “Why don’t you just go with Mims or Stephanie and don’t worry about what everybody says. Do what you want to do.”

  “That’s not how it works around here, and you know it. Look at JR and Becky. I know for a fact he expected they’d break up after they started college, but she’s still hanging on.”

  My nose wrinkles, and I think about this. “Sounds like you both need to get some backbone.”

  “Come on, Daisy. What’s it going to hurt?” He smiles, and the squeeze in my chest tells me exactly what it’ll hurt.

  Me.

  I will get attached.

  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Thank God for small mercies. “And I don’t have any money to buy anything. I can’t ask Aunt Regina for a dress for a fake date…”

  “Hey, guys!” Sly skips up beside us. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing—” I answer too fast, but Scout speaks on top of me.

  “I just invited Daisy to homecoming—”

  “What?” My cousin’s shriek makes me wince. “You’re shitting me. You’re taking Daisy to Homecoming?”

  Her eyes are so wide, and the smile on her face grows bigger by the second. “That’s incredible… My cousin and Scout Dunne!”

  “I said no.” My voice is flat, and she glares at me like my head just spun around 360 degrees.

  “She doesn’t have a dress…” He supplies.

  “Oh, hell, we’ll get you a dress.” Sly catches my arm in hers.

  “I don’t have any money, and I can’t ask your mom—”

  “I’ve got tons of dresses. We’ll fix you up.” Turning to Scout, she smiles and nods. “Daisy would be happy to go with you to the dance. We can double.”

  “Sounds great!” Scout backs away, pointing at me. “You’re a pal. I won’t ever forget it.”

  I won’t ever forget it.

  It’s like the world has gone to a low hum. I feel trapped, and as Sly leads me into the house, bouncing up the steps, I exhale a slow breath. This feels like the start of something incredibly dangerous. It’s incredibly terrifying.

  We’re in Sly’s room, and
she’s deep in her walk-in closet, dragging out garment bags of dresses as she goes on about how she wants to do my hair and makeup.

  I stand in front of her mirror studying my black leggings. The oversized sweatshirt two sizes too big, and my straight hair piled on top of my head.

  “Let me cut your hair.”

  “My hair!” I hold the sides of my head as she whips my bun off my head.

  “Nothing crazy. Just a cute little bob. Trust me, it’ll be so adorable. And I’ll do your makeup. Very natural with a glossy pink lip.”

  “It’s too much, Sly.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She steps beside me squeezing my shoulders with both of her hands and pressing her cheeks to mine. “You’re going to homecoming with Scout Dunne.”

  My heart beats faster…

  I know exactly what she means. My entire life is about to change.

  Three

  Daisy

  “Just one more…” Sly threads the last, oversized daisy into a tiny clip at the top of my head. She steps back, exhaling happily. “You’re perfect.”

  I turn to the mirror, and my stomach twists when I see my reflection.

  The strapless, butter-yellow satin dress she loaned me stops mid-thigh, and the way it cinches at the waist and then flares to the hem actually makes me appear to have a waist.

  “I can’t believe it.” Reaching up, I touch the pin curls around my ears.

  She cut my hair and styled it so it hangs at the nape of my neck, and she’s threaded white daisies around the top of my head so it looks like I’m wearing a flowered headband. Leave it to my florist cousin to decorate me with my namesake flower.

  “You are so adorable!” She’s practically bouncing on her toes, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

  Still, I can’t argue with her. I look like something out of a teen magazine. Fresh and Flirty! I can imagine the headline would say.

  “You look great, too.” I’m quiet, nervous.

  Sly is far more confident in her sage blue dress with the hemline of cute little ruffles. Her auburn hair is woven in a super-loose, fat braid over her shoulder with corn flowers threaded in the rippling strands. Going to her vanity, she lifts two plastic containers with small boutonnieres in them. Scout’s has daisies wrapped around a single bud, and her date Henry’s is one blue rose that matches her dress perfectly.

  “You’re so good at this.” I take the bud hoping I don’t stab my date while pinning it on his coat.

  “I watched a show once where they made entire couture gowns out of nothing but flowers.” She runs her fingers along the front of her hair. “Can you imagine?”

  “No.”

  “Sly? The boys are here.” Aunt Regina’s voice echoes up the stairs, and my cousin’s eyes light.

  “Scout is going to die when he sees you.”

  My stomach twists, and my heart beats faster. I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and I know I’m not ready for it now.

  “I hope his response is not that extreme.” I wonder if she can hear the waver in my voice.

  She exhales a squeal and hops over to give me a hug. “You’re Cinderella. It’s going to be a night you’ll never forget.”

  Clasping my hand, she drags me to the door, but I hang back as she trots expertly down the stairs in heels. I watch as she puts her hand on Henry’s chest and kisses his cheek.

  A night I’ll never forget?

  My heels click as I slowly descend the stairs, gripping the bannister so I don’t get hooked and fall. I don’t see Scout, and anticipation rises with every step.

  Ever since he trapped me into this arrangement, he’s been carrying my books around, waiting for me after classes… basically acting like he’s my boyfriend, which is so not true.

  Mims has been cutting death glares at me every time we pass in the hall, but I ignore her. It’s not like this is real, no matter how excited my cousin is.

  It’s all pretend.

  I’m not Cinderella.

  Reciting these words in my head calms my breathing. It puts distance between me and this force pushing against my chest. It helps me focus on the future and not this very night.

  Until I reach the second to last step and Scout steps into my sight.

  He’s wearing a classic black tux, and one hand is in his pocket. His hair has been trimmed so it’s shorter in the back, longer on top, and it’s styled in a messy way. When he cuts his gaze at me from under his brow, his blue eyes flare, and all my nerves rush to the surface.

  He’s straight out of a movie or one of those posters in the Abercrombie store.

  He’s so sexy.

  Fake or not, my entire body lights.

  “You’re beautiful.” His voice is uncharacteristically serious, and he lifts my hand, slipping a wrist corsage made up of a cluster of white daisies to match my hair.

  A high-pitched squeal from across the room reminds me Sly and Henry are waiting. Aunt Regina has her phone on us, and she’s shooting pictures of me and her daughter and our dates. My eyes return to Scout’s, and I hold up the flower for his tux.

  “I’m not sure I can do this.” My fingers tremble, and I can barely remove the pin.

  “Let me see.” He takes it out and tucks it in the buttonhole of his jacket then pins it from behind. “There.”

  “One more photo…” Aunt Regina lines us all up and takes three more pictures until my cousin drags us out the door.

  “I can’t wait for everyone to see you.” Sly looks back at me from the front seat of Henry’s SUV.

  Scout and I are on the second row, and I smile, feeling super self-conscious. Then he reaches over to take my hand, lacing our fingers.

  “I like what you did with your hair. It’s cute.”

  “Sly did it.”

  He grins, and the little fish flipping in my stomach moves lower as his finger slides lightly across my knuckles.

  It’s two right turns and a left to the high school, and it feels like the time moves too fast. I’m not ready for everyone to see me in this dress with my hair in flowers holding the hand of the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen.

  “See you inside!” Sly grins mischievously, pulling Henry’s arm. “I’m beating you two through the door. This entrance is going to be bigger than my palmetto sculpture.”

  Sly’s floral arrangement is an oversized palmetto with palm flowers, hibiscus, and other tropical flowers to represent our state, and The palm is sacred, which Fireside’s town motto, which is weird AF. Regardless, it is breathtaking… Unlike me and Scout at this dance together.

  Scout helps me out of the backseat, lifting me by the waist and lowering me as if I weigh nothing. My feet touch the asphalt drive, and my heels wobble.

  I grasp his arm, inhaling sharply. “Whoa.”

  “You okay?” His voice is a warm breath across my shoulders, which are completely exposed by my short hair.

  It’s tingling electricity, and I nod, blinking fast. “Not used to these heels.”

  His expression is not his usual megawatt grin. It’s darker, more focused. I can’t tell, but it seems like he’s picking up on this new thing between us, this vibration that is decidedly not fake.

  With an Ugh! exhalation, I push past him and start towards the gym.

  Smart, focused, intentional—these are adjectives that describe me. Not boy crazy, ditzy, or infatuated. Sly put these ideas in my head… and the whole school acting like we’re the hottest gossip since that lunch lady got caught in the janitor’s closet with the lacrosse coach.

  Now that was juicy.

  It was also last spring.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” Scout catches up with me, running his fingers down the inside of my arm gently.

  He pulls me to a stop, and I look up at him, painfully gorgeous. “This is supposed to be fake, right?”

  His brow tightens, and he hesitates. “Why are you saying that? I told you this was just friends.”

  “I don’t know.” Shaking my head, I look down. “Everybody�
�s just so… invested. I wasn’t ready for it.”

  “So you get it now.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “You’re feeling the pressure. No more ‘you need to grow a backbone’ or whatever bullshit.”

  He seems really pissed by that, and I feel guilty. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

  This force feels like the time I swam in the ocean and got caught in a current. The water swirled around me, and no matter how hard I fought, it pulled me where it wanted.

  But is this feeling my fellow classmates, or is it him?

  I can’t think that way.

  Slipping my hand into the crook of his arm, I force a smile. I’m strong. I’m not letting them get me down.

  “We can do this. Let’s go.”

  Four

  Daisy

  His hands are on my waist, and we’re swaying side to side on the dance floor.

  Scout smells like soap and shave cream and something deeper, spicier, and I do my best to fight getting lost in his scent. I do my best not to close my eyes and rest my cheek against his broad shoulder and dream of what it would be like if this were real, if we left the dance and took his truck down to the beach. If we climbed in the back and made out, tongues sliding together, his knee moving between my legs, parting my thighs…

  The band is playing something slow, instrumental, but it feels like a sex song. It feels like what I imagine his fingers would do if they slid under my dress, rising higher, raising sparkles of sensation as they reached my center, slipping beneath my panties, lightly touching my clit.

  “Want something to drink?” His lips graze my ear, and I involuntarily shiver. It makes him grin. “Sorry.”

  I step back quickly, banishing those hot, sexy thoughts from my mind. Still, I’m flushed all over. At least in the party lights, I can hope he doesn’t notice.

  Clearing my throat, I shake my head. “Ticklish.”

  “Want something to drink?” He’s watching me.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you back here.” Nodding towards the bleachers, I do my best to act like his friend, the smart, bookish antiques scout. “Bathroom.”