Sidelined: A Sports Romance (22 page)

“I don’t even know what that means, but of course I can drink a beer.” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Ok, then drink one with me. Come on. Let’s go.” His head leaned toward the door.

She looked at her yoga pants and tank top. “I can’t go out like this. Besides, I’m working.”

Remnants of this morning were starting to surface, but he didn’t feel like retreating this time. He wanted her to go get a drink with him, not hide out in her shell. “You’ve got ten minutes.” He settled on the couch.

“What are you doing?” Her hands flew to her hips.

He picked up one of the charts. “I’m waiting for you to go change. Ten minutes.”

She sighed, but he knew he had victory when she stormed to a room at the end of the hall and closed the door. He flipped over one of the reports. There were statistics, lines, and a graph about Balboa Park. He might as well be reading Russian. He studied the next page. There was a charcoal sketch of a face. He looked around the apartment to see if there was any other artwork like it. He appreciated the smooth lines. Skye must have drawn it. There were a few more like it in the stack. He placed them back in the pile, curious about her drawing hobby.

He stood and scanned the apartment. Things always looked different with the lights on. Under her TV was a pile of books, their spines lined in a row. There was a picture as a bookend. He picked it up. Skye smiled from the frame with a group of girls. It looked like a college picture. He returned it to its position and walked to the window.

Her apartment overlooked the inner courtyard of the complex. Lights shone from the pool and there was a fire pit in the corner. It looked like every other apartment building in San Diego: hibiscus flowers, faux waterfall, and lined deck chairs in a row. He thought it fit her. Pretty, but well maintained and organized—not a wild weed in sight. He chuckled out loud, realizing he had just spent more time in the last five minutes analyzing Skye than he had the last five women he had slept with.

S
kye held up a pink shirt
.
No, too bright.
She dug into her drawer for another one. She pressed a light blue tank top against her chest. This one might work. She brushed her teeth and dabbed on a pinch of blush. She checked her reflection in the mirror. Was she actually going through with this? True, now she knew the guy had a name, and he wasn’t a doctor or a pharmaceutical sales rep. It was far worse—he was in the military. She kicked herself for not putting the pieces together sooner. But what was there to assemble? It was supposed to be a one-night stand. A botched one, but nonetheless she wasn’t going to forget last night any time soon. Just the way he looked at her made her catch her breath. He was too good-looking. Men like that didn’t appear out of thin air.

She stepped into a pair of black wedges and grabbed a jacket from her closet. No matter how warm and sunny the days were, San Diego nights were always chilly. She ran her fingers through her hair again to shake out the bun she had clipped on top when she was working.

It was hard to ignore the fact that he had caught her home alone on a Saturday night with nothing to keep her company but spreadsheets. The spritz she used on her hair, might hold, but he said something about going to Pacific Beach, or PB as all the locals called it. Beach breezes would blow this to pieces. She gave up and headed for the door.

Although her hand was on the knob, she couldn’t quite muster the nerve to turn it. What if he was some kind of crazy stalker who picked up women at bars and was just waiting for his chance to chop her into tiny bits? She shook her head. That was a completely irrational thought. What if his only interest was getting her into bed? She chewed her lip again, gnawing off half her lipgloss. Of course, he was determined to get her in bed. She had given up all her cards last night by bringing him back to her apartment and getting naked in five seconds flat. There was still another option. She smiled as she pulled the door open. Ben Hardcastle was getting ready to have to prove if he was here for the right reasons. She was going to stick to the golden rule.

* * *

“
W
hat is this place
?” Skye stepped from the truck and took in the building adjacent to the pier. It was wooden and looked like it hadn’t seen a coat of paint or stain in twenty years.

“A bar.” Ben walked to her side to help her step down, but she was already on the pavement.

It was almost entirely outdoor seating. There were people leaning against the railings, beers in hand, fruity drinks with tropical umbrellas scattered on the tables. Skye followed Ben up the stairs, wrapping her jacket a little tighter as the ocean breeze kicked up.

“Dude, where the hell have you be—oh, hello.” A tall, well-built man stopped in mid-rant to smile at Skye.

“Skye, Hollywood. Hollywood, Skye.” Ben introduced them.

“Bolt didn’t tell me he was bringing along a beautiful woman.” He took her hand.

Skye’s eyes darted to her date. “Bolt?” It crossed her mind maybe he hadn’t been honest about his real name.

He nodded. “Yep. It’s a call sign.”

“So you’re a pilot?” Her head tilted to the side.

Hollywood laughed. “Aw, man. You didn’t tell her? That’s funny.”

“Shut up.” Ben looked uncomfortable.

Skye scooted onto the open barstool. “Aren’t there always stories that go with call signs?” The guys nodded. “Well, then you have to tell me the back story on your names.” She looked at both men.

“I think you need a drink for this talk, sweetheart.” Hollywood waved down a waitress.

“There you are!” A tall, lean guy in jeans and a surfing T-shirt dropped into an open seat.

“Eagle, what’s up man? I didn’t know you were meeting us out.” Ben looked surprised to see him. Skye assumed the newcomer must be another pilot.

Hollywood handed out three beers, while Eagle ordered another for himself.

“And I didn’t know we were bringing dates.” He turned toward Skye. “Nice to meet you.”

She smiled. “Nice to meet you. Skye.” She extended her hand to his. “Now I get to hear another call sign story.”

“Oh, we’re doing that?” Eagle accepted the beer from the waitress with a grin.

Hollywood laughed. “Yep. We’re doing that. Why don’t you go first since you got here last?”

Eagle hung his head. “Ah, do I have to? It’s embarrassing. Mine isn’t the most glamorous story.” He took a swig of beer. “When I was in flight school some dudes in my class dared me to shave my head one night. We were pretty plastered. Anyway, the next day I woke up with a white bald head, and that with the combination of this nose,” He pointed to his face. “garnered the awesome call sign Eagle, because everyone said I looked like a bald eagle. Never shaved my head again after that one.”

Skye smiled. She wasn’t sure how to react. Now that he mentioned it, he did have sort of a hooked nose and high eyebrows like a Muppets character. Giggling definitely wasn’t a good idea.

“I’m up.” Hollywood slammed his beer on the table. “Ever heard of the show
The Dad
?” He searched her eyes.

“Of course. I loved that show. It was hilarious.”

“Well, I was Little Ricky.”

“What?” She studied his face trying to make out the features from the five-year-old boy that she and her family laughed over every Thursday night.

Ben and Eagle started to laugh. “He’s a genuine movie star.” Ben winked at her and she felt that sensation deep in her stomach, the one that she hadn’t stopped thinking about since last night.

Hollywood nodded. “That’s right. I was Little Ricky for three years.”

“But, what happened? After the show ended I don’t remember seeing you on anything else.” She leaned forward in her seat. This was like a
Where Are They Now
show.

“My parents decided to move out of California. They didn’t like the lifestyle, so we headed back to the east coast. I was too young to know the difference. I went to college, flight school, and now I’m here having a beer with my buddies and you.”

Skye recognized a flirt when she saw one. This guy had more moves than a chess board. “And Hollywood I’m guessing is to make fun of your illustrious career?”

“Exactly. That and they’re all just jealous. I like to think it’s more of a compliment.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s a compliment.” He had the good looks to back up the name. “So that leaves you.” She tipped her beer toward Ben. This was the story she had been waiting to hear. The one she had tried to figure out since she heard his alternate name. She asked the question but was praying the explanation had nothing to with his possible tendency to bolt on women. “How did you get the name Bolt?”

He rested on his elbows and rotated so his eyes were locked on hers. “Lightning strike.”

“Lightning?”

“It was my first tour after flight school and I was heading out for a night flight. There was a storm rolling in, but we thought we could take off before it was over top of us. It was past the five-mile safety mark, or at least we thought it was.” He paused and she knew there was no hiding that she was absorbed in his every word. “But, as I was rolling down the runway and about to lift off, we had a strike on our tail. It must have been a pop-up cloud or something. We were airborne for about a second then, smack!” He hit the table. “We were right back on the runway.”

“Oh my God. Were you hurt?”

Ben laughed. “Naw. We destroyed a forty million dollar aircraft, but we were fine.”

Skye realized she had been holding her breath. “I bet you were terrified.”

He shook his head. “Not until much later. We were just glad we didn’t fry. It took awhile for it to sink in what had actually happened. It was one of those surreal experiences. You know?” He smiled at her, and for a second she thought he might be talking about more than just his lightning accident. As he stared into her eyes the heat from last night came back to her. “Who’s ready for another round? Want another?”

She looked at Hollywood and Eagle. Suddenly she felt like she had crashed guys’ night. Maybe it was best to head back to the spreadsheets. “I think I should probably go.” She pushed back from the table. “Let you guys have the next round.”

“No, no stay.” Hollywood reached for her wrist. “It’s nice to see Bolt with a girl. You can’t leave yet. This is a special treat.”

What did that mean? She looked at her date. For the first time since she’d met him, something had wiped the confident look right off his face. She settled back onto the stool.

“Ok. You talked me into it, Hollywood. I’ll have another.”

“Whew. For a second there I thought Bolt lost his touch.” Eagle whistled before Ben popped him on the back of the head. “What was that for?” He rubbed the spot.

“Because sometimes you’re an asshole.” Ben snarled.

“But you love me.” Eagle smiled sweetly.

“Sometimes.” Ben rolled his eyes.

She could tell they had a camaraderie that was layered with more than just beer nights. She wondered what it was like to work with people who depended on you for their lives. The kind of people who weren’t trying to steal projects from you or claw out your eyes to get the next promotion.

She didn’t know what to call him anymore. Was he Ben or Bolt? Since he introduced himself as Ben she decided to go with that.

“Ben, how long have you been flying?” She thought they had to be about the same age, but she wasn’t sure. After she passed twenty-five, age took on a whole new meaning. This was supposed to be the phase of responsibility and goal-building. She didn’t want to waste time on men who were still searching for themselves or were life-long college students. She crossed her fingers, hoping he was at least twenty-five.

Ben took a sip of beer. “Let’s see, after college I did Officer Candidates School, TBS, which is Marine basic school, then I went to flight school, and did a year at the RAG after that. That’s where I learned to fly the F/A-18. If I count the flight school, I’d say four years.”

Skye counted up the years in her head and smiled. Good he was probably twenty-six, like her. Although she had no idea what all these acronyms stood for. Marine speak was weird.

“And what about you two?” She looked at Hollywood and Eagle.

“The same.” Hollywood grinned.

Eagle put his hand in air. “I have to confess. I’m a wizzo.”

“Wizzo?” She had never heard of it before.

Ben smiled. “Yeah, it’s easier than always saying WSO. It stands for weapons systems operator. Eagle’s my backseat. He’s responsible for all of the instruments, weather checks, that kind of thing. I don’t like flying with anyone else.”

“That hurts, man. That hurts.” Hollywood covered his heart with his palms. He looked at Skye. “I’m a wizzo too. I usually fly with a guy named Ranger. We try to keep the same flight teams in our squadron. It’s sort of a tradition with the Rebels.”

All of it was new lingo and information for her. But it was thrilling and exciting. Her days were spent analyzing consumer trends and targeting buying habits. Flying was something completely different and foreign. It sounded dangerous, but extremely fun.

“What other kind of traditions do you have?”

Ben slid his arm around her shoulder. She liked the gesture, but hoped she didn’t look too surprised. It was the kind of thing a boyfriend would do, or at least someone you had been dating awhile would do.

“We can’t tell you all our top secret intel.” He grinned, showing off his white teeth.

Eagle spit out a mouthful of beer. “Secret intel? Dude, do you want her to think we’re spies or something?”

Ben shook him off. “No, but enough work talk. We talk shop too much.”

Hollywood leaned in his seat. “What about you, Skye? What do you do?”

All eyes were on her. “Oh, nothing as exciting as you guys. I’m a campaign executive for an advertising company.”

She wasn’t sure if they were legitimately interested, or really skilled at pretending, but each one nodded.

“I work with different companies to help them launch new brands, or either create a campaign for them to remarket an older product. I like it.” Her answer sounded canned, as if she were trying to convince them she loved her job.

Ben added, “You should see some of the spreadsheets she’s made.” He winked at her, and she smiled. She hadn’t realized Ben was paying attention to her work when they were at her apartment. Then she remembered she had left him alone in her living room while she changed clothes. What else could he have seen?

Hollywood and Eagle stayed for another round then Hollywood stretched his arms to the stars. “Man, it’s late. I think we better get going, Eagle.”

“Why? It’s not that late.” Eagle looked disappointed.

Skye giggled when she saw Hollywood jab the skinny friend in the ribs. “Oh, right. We should be going. Nice to meet you, Skye. See you at work, Bolt.”

“It was nice to meet you both.” She smiled.

Hollywood threw a wad of bills on the table. “Have a good night.” He winked at Skye one last time before following Eagle down the boardwalk and toward the parking lot.

“What’d you think of my friends?” Ben moved his stool closer to hers now that they had the table to themselves. It seemed quieter and more intimate.