Pass Interference (8 page)

When he finally released the piece of paper, Sara turned and walked away as fast as she could. Tears pooled in her eyes, knowing that wasn’t at all the reaction she wanted from him. She wanted him to be surprised and pleased. She wanted it to be a personal moment just between the two of them. She wanted him to read between the lines. Instead, she just made a fool of herself.

Why on earth did she think this was a good idea? In a couple days she’d be taking Philip for a three-hour drive knowing he thinks she’s an idiot. He probably
did
read between the lines and figured out she has feelings for him. He’d likely avoid future contact with her, cancel the trip, and fire her as his tutor.

Crossing the forty-yard line, she finally looked down at the piece of paper she asked Philip to sign. She blinked several times to clear the tears so she could read what he wrote.

Sara—Thanks for seeing the real me.—Philip.

Her lips parted and she read it again. And again. She clutched the piece of paper to her chest and turned back around just as Philip looked up from signing another autograph. Catching her eye, he smiled and held up his hand in a quick wave. Before she had a chance to wave back, Philip’s attention was diverted by another fan taking a selfie with him.

Relieved, Sara let out the breath she’d been holding. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Driving southward on I-75, Sara was distracted by all the clatter coming from the passenger side. Philip was looking through Sara’s CD collection and clacking the jewel cases together. “Don’t you have anything decent to listen to in here?”

“Well, definitely not my passenger,” she snarked, shooting Philip a dirty look. Her intent to be a sweeter, kinder Sara just flew out the window. She immediately regretted implying she didn’t like listening to Philip. That wasn’t true. It was just her knee-jerk defense mechanism. “Um. Some of those are pretty old,” she admitted, using a much softer tone of voice. “I guess I don’t edit the CDs in my car very often. One day, I’ll get around to moving my favorites to digital.”

“That’s okay,” he said, reorganizing the discs and placing them back into the CD holder beneath the center armrest. He leaned back on the headrest and smiled broadly. “We don’t need music. Check this out.” She glanced over, and he held up his mobile phone. “I’m powering off.”

Sara gasped in an exaggerated fashion. “What? How will you live without your sports updates?”

“I guess you’ll just have to entertain me,” he said with a wink.

She tried to remember the subjects on that list of conversation starters she had created, but that wink and his sexy smile erased her memory; she couldn’t remember even one. “It’s good to see you smiling like that,” she improvised.

Arching his brows, he turned his head toward Sara. “I didn’t know you cared.”

She felt her cheeks warm and hoped he couldn’t see her blushing. “Well, I don’t,” she said, smiling. “But still.”

“I guess I haven’t had a lot to smile about until now. Hey,” he said, lightly tapping her elbow with his fingertips. “Thanks for driving me. I mean it.”

She tingled at the all-too-brief tap, inwardly thrilled by that moment of physical contact. Shrugging, she said, “I had nothing else to do, and you had no one else to take you, so…” Her voice trailed off. She really didn’t want him to know how much this road trip meant to her.

Looking downward, she wondered if Philip thought she was overdressed. She had on a pink short-sleeve pullover and a short black skirt. Her freshly-shaved legs were bare, and she was wearing her most comfortable pair of sandals. She wanted to look feminine. She wanted him to notice she was a girl, but didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. She wanted to appear casual, rather than looking like she spent two hours getting ready this morning. She rarely wore makeup unless she had a date, and then only mineral powder foundation and mascara. Today she added a touch of blush and tinted lip balm.

Oh God, he probably did notice her extra efforts and thought she was making a fool of herself. And she was. Her insecurities made her wonder if she was being used. Was he only being nice because he needed her right now? Pushing that thought aside, she changed the subject. “Um. Did you say your family lives on an orange grove?”

“No, they don’t
live
on one,” he said, chuckling. “We own a huge one. It’s about five hundred acres. We own a general store that’s adjacent to the grove and we sell and ship fresh citrus fruit all over the world.” She could hear the enthusiasm in his voice as he promoted his family’s business like he was recording a commercial. “And we also carry orange candy and orange soft-serve and orange jelly and citrus soaps, perfumes, and lotions. Oh, you’d love this,” he said, touching her shoulder this time. “There’s a nature trail. The place is kind of a tourist attraction. You can look it up on Trip Advisor. Naples Orange Groves.”

Sara just loved listening to him. His voice was so masculine and sexy and smooth, and his tone was so upbeat when he spoke about the family farm. She could easily listen to Philip Mason all day, every day. “So you grew up on a farm. I didn’t know you were a country boy.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“So, do you love or hate citrus fruit?” she wondered.

“Love. Hey, I
have
to love it,” he said, laughing. “Oranges and a scholarship put me through school.”

Sara laughed, too. Regardless of whether or not he was using her, she was already having a great time on this little trip.

“What about you?” he asked. “Like oranges?”

“Oh, I love oranges.” Her enthusiasm was sincere and natural.

“Good,” he replied, turning to face forward. “I’ll take you to the grove.”

Sara turned her head to look at Philip, and her nerves took over. “Oh. I can’t stay,” she said. “I’m just dropping you off.”

“Why? Why can’t you stay? What else have you got to do?”

Sara looked out the windshield, trying to come up with excuses. She began to nervously play with her neck chain. “Oh. Well. Plenty. I have books to read, and papers to grade and lesson plans…”

“Hold on.” He cut her off and turned slightly to look at her. “We’re on holiday break, remember? So what have you got to do that doesn’t involve school and homework?”

Sara got quiet for a few moments—maybe a few moments too many. She didn’t really have anything to do.

“I’ll take you to see our grove,” he reiterated. “It’s pretty cool.”

A small smile crossed Sara’s lips. Despite her nerves, she liked the idea of Philip showing her around his family’s business. Her fear about having nothing to say for the entire ride had long since vanished, and she felt herself starting to relax. It turned out Philip was easy to talk to and easy to listen to. Even the prolonged silences here and there didn’t seem awkward. They were merely natural breaks in the conversation.

∙•∙

Philip had told his parents he’d be arriving at their house by around four o’clock, and he figured his estimate was pretty accurate. Traffic was lighter than expected, considering it was a couple days before Christmas, and they were making decent progress.

They were about two and a half hours into the three-and-a-half-hour drive, and Philip was really enjoying it. He’d been feeling pretty cooped up for weeks and this was a welcome change of scenery. Even though it was December, this was Florida, and the temperatures still got up into the seventies. The breeze hitting his face through the partially open window on the passenger side refreshed and renewed him. He promised himself he wasn’t going to worry about the condition of his knee while he was on break. There would be plenty of time to worry when he got back, because it wouldn’t be long before he’d be on the field. He still held out hope that he could join the team for the last game of the postseason.

He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt something on his leg. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a blue EFU polo shirt. He hadn’t worn long pants since the surgery. He looked down and saw Sara’s fingers tentatively touching his thigh. “How’s your knee?” she asked. “Do you need to take a stretch break?”

He looked up at her face, and he could see that the girl he didn’t think gave a damn about him actually did seem to care. The confounding part was that he cared about her, too. That’s why he came up with this semi-elaborate plan to get her to drive him to his parents, ostensibly because he didn’t want her to be all alone at school for the holidays. But when he searched his soul for his true motives, he realized there was much more to it. It was
he
who didn’t want to be away from her for that long. To his surprise, he was starting to have feelings for her.

She wasn’t like the girls he usually went out with, not at all. But the more he got to know Sara, the more drawn to her he felt. He watched as the breeze coming through the window played with the strands of hair around her face, and he realized he was jealous of the wind. He wanted to be the one who brushed her hair back with his fingertips.

He licked his lips and considered telling her what he was thinking, but he must have waited too long, because she spoke first. “We just passed a sign for a rest area, so—”

“No, I’m good. I think I can make it another hour if you can. But thanks for asking.” He was about to cover her hand with his when she took her hand off his leg and reclaimed the steering wheel with both hands. His timing was seriously off.
Come on Mason
,
what’s wrong with you, man? Time to get back in the game
.

“So, tell me more about the orange grove,” she said, redirecting the conversation.

“Well, let’s see,” he mused, as he turned his head to look out the passenger side window. His mind’s eye visualized the grove instead of the highway they were traveling on. “Behind the orange grove is where the Sparrows play.” When Sara’s brow furrowed, Philip explained. “Minor League team. You know. Baseball.” He threw his head back and laughed at a memory. He hadn’t thought about this in years.

“What are you laughing at?” she asked with amusement.

“When I was a kid, I used to climb the fence to get into the field and watch the Sparrows for hours and hours, day after day. I got to know some of the players and they were really nice to me. They taught me how to throw sliders and fastballs. I was sure I was gonna be a pitcher one day.”

“I remember you mentioning that in your essay,” she said. The look on her face showed she was truly interested in what he had to say. The Sara he was with today was so different from the bitchy girl who had entered his dorm room nearly two months ago. This girl was a far cry from the one who sized him up the minute she met him and hated him at hello. What changed? Was it him? Or was it her?

“Then how did you wind up playing football?”

He wondered if she was really interested in knowing more, or if she was just killing time or being polite. “You really wanna know?” When she nodded, he continued. “I tried out for my high school baseball team, and I didn’t get picked,” he explained a little wistfully. “I was late to the game.”

“What does that mean? You missed practice?”

“No. I mean, everyone else came up through the ranks in Little League and Pony League.”

Sara chuckled. “There’s really such a thing as Pony League?”

“Yup. Comes after Little League.”

“And do you really need to come up through the ranks?” she asked.

Philip sighed, remembering how heartbroken he had been at the time, as if that was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. “Sometimes this stuff ends up being a popularity contest. Kind of political. It’s all about who you know, and I didn’t know enough of the right people because I wasn’t playing as long.”

“Even though you had friends on the Sparrows?” she questioned. “Even though your family runs a tourist attraction?”

Philip eyed Sara and took the opportunity to touch her knee. With a little squeeze, he asked, “Hey, are you making fun of me?”

Sara glanced down at her knee and back at the road. She didn’t answer him.
Hmmm
. He had just left her an opening for one of her patented snarks, and she didn’t take it. Maybe he was making her uncomfortable, so he reluctantly released her knee and continued his story as if nothing happened. “Anyway, my Phys. Ed. teacher knew I was a big Miami fan. He’s the one who suggested I try out for football.”

Sara found her tongue again. “And…and you loved it.”

“Not at first. I really wanted to be a pitcher. But yeah, football got into my blood, and it’s there to stay.”

“You know, you’re really lucky to find something you love like that, and be able to make a career out of it.” She kept her eyes glued to the road, making Philip think she didn’t want to look at him anymore, that maybe he had crossed a line when he touched her.

“I know. Well, at least I hope I can.”
I just have to get back to one hundred percent
, he thought to himself. “It’ll be a dream come true.” He gazed at her profile and wished she’d look in his direction. “What about you, Sara?”

She gave him a sideways glance. “Me? What do you mean?”

“Well, you pretty much know the story of my life backward and forward by now.”
And I know next to nothing about you
. “What about you?”

She tilted her head from side to side. “Well, there’s not much to tell. I’m majoring in Special Ed.”

This was going to be challenging. How did one get Sara Ross to open up? “Do you love it?”

“Yeah.” She turned her head to look at him for a second before returning her attention to the road. “I do. I love it.”

Seemed like a pat answer. So he probed. “What else do you love?”

“Um.” She thought for a minute, as if she were searching for an appropriate answer. “Well, I love Florida. I could see living here after I graduate. I’m not a big fan of the frozen north. Been there, done that.”

“I know what you mean,” Philip said, nodding, but he was determined that she was not going to get away with just talking about the weather. So he went for the jugular. “So tell me, Sara, have you ever been in love?”

Sara’s eyes widened. She clearly wasn’t expecting that question at all. “Um.” She giggled nervously. “Can I get back to you on that one?”