Summer Fling (Players of Marycliff University Book 1) (6 page)

Abby whacked Megan with the pillow again. "No. But I'm sure you'll pry it out of me if I change my mind."

Megan's eyes widened. "No? Why not?"

"You know I'm not like that, Megan. I don't do casual sex."

"Maybe you should give it a try. It might do you some good—help you loosen up."

Abby just shook her head. "Anyway, if what you say is true, we'll find out one way or another tomorrow."

"Why? What's tomorrow?"

"He's taking me out on a lunch date."

"A lunch date? That's not very sexy. Why a lunch date?"

"I told him I was busy in the evening, so he settled for lunch."

"
What?!
" Megan turned to face Abby and took a few deep breaths with her eyes closed to calm herself down. "Abby." Another deep breath, and she opened her eyes. "Abby, when a hot guy asks you out, why on earth would you say you're busy? Especially since it's apparently a second date. A second date that this particular hot guy doesn't do very often."
 

"Okay, for one thing I didn't know that about the second date thing or even that there were rumors about this guy. For another, he's already monopolized today and last night, so I wasn't sure if I wanted him taking up tomorrow night, too."

Megan sat back on the couch, resting her head against the back. "Hold on." She looked at the clock on the wall. "It's not even eight. And you're getting home from a date? Is he the one you were meeting earlier when you said you were hanging out with a friend?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah, I was meeting him. Well, he wouldn't let me meet him somewhere. He picked me up."
 

Megan looked at her like she'd grown another head or maybe a third arm. "Well, yeah. Why wouldn't you let him pick you up for a date? And you went out with him wearing that?"

"I just put on clean clothes. I didn't know it was a date when he picked me up."

"What? How could you not know that?"

"He just texted me this afternoon and said he had bad news that he wanted to tell me in person. I told him I'd meet him somewhere and he insisted on picking me up."

"What bad news?"

"That he'd ruined my new light pink tank top."

"He ruined your new tank top? Why? How?"

"He washed it with his clothes and a new shirt bled in the laundry, turning it a weird color, he set the stain in it, and shrunk it about three sizes."

"He ruined your shirt in the laundry."

"Yes."

"Abby."

"Megan."

"Why was he washing your shirt?"

"Because it was stained and he was trying to get it out."

"Okaaay. Why did he have your stained shirt?"

"I left it at his house last night."

Megan put up one hand as though to stop Abby and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other, her eyes closed again. After a moment she dropped her hand and looked at Abby again. "Abby, you just told me that the first time you kissed Lance was this evening. Right?"

"Right."

"Then what the hell were you doing at his house last night taking off your clothes?"

Abby waved a hand in the air. "It's nothing dirty, Megan. I bumped into him last night at the party and spilled my Jack and Coke all over both of us. I was soaked and sticky and ready to leave and he offered me a ride home."

"He was the friend that you caught a ride with last night?"

Abby nodded.
 

Megan opened her eyes and looked at Abby. "Did you know him before last night?"

"No."

"But you agreed to let him take you home."

"Yeah." Abby shrugged. "He seemed harmless enough and he wasn't drunk."

"Okay, fine. We'll revisit that later. How did you end up at his house?"

"He said he needed to make a pit stop and he went inside and changed his shirt. I waited in the car and when he came back out he asked if I wanted to go have pie with him and let me borrow one of his shirts. When I went in to change I accidentally left my shirt at his house and he decided to wash it for me. But he ruined it, so today he took me to buy a new shirt to replace the one he destroyed."

Megan stared at the ceiling while she processed this. "This is so weird."

"Tell me about it."

"Okay, but you left at like three thirty. He went shopping with you for over three hours?"

"No, we went and saw a movie."

"And then you made out in his car."

Abby snorted. "Pretty much."

"And you're going out tomorrow?"

"Yup."

"This doesn't fit with what I've heard about him."

Abby shrugged.

Megan pulled the towel off her head and stood up, her chin length mop of curls bouncing around her face. "Well, I've got to finish getting ready to go. Isaac's going to be here soon."

"Okay. Have fun at the party tonight. Don't get too wasted."

Megan laughed. When she got to her doorway she turned and looked back at Abby, her smile replaced with concern. "So, I know I said you should have some fun. But Lance has a reputation as a player. Be careful, yeah? I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Thanks for telling me. I'll be careful."

* * *

Abby stood in front of her closet wrapped in a towel. Lance was supposed to be picking her up in less than an hour and she was still basically naked.

The problem was that she didn't know what to wear. It was lunch, so it shouldn't be too fancy, right? But he'd actually told her it was a date beforehand, so shorts, a t-shirt, and flip flops seemed too casual.

"Megan!"

She heard rustling fabric and the sound of something hitting the floor through her bedroom door. A minute later the door opened a few inches. Megan leaned her face on the door, one hand gripping the doorknob and her other side braced against the doorjamb. She leveled a glare at Abby. "You bellowed?"

"You know, you really ought to get over one hangover before giving yourself another one."

"Did you really just make me drag my ass to your room to lecture me about hangovers?"

"No." Abby waved a hand at her closet. "I need help deciding what to wear."

Megan stumbled her way over to Abby's bed and collapsed in a heap on top of it, throwing one arm over her face. "How about clothes? Or you could just wear the towel. I bet Lance wouldn't mind."

"Ha ha. You're so funny I might die from laughing too hard. Seriously, I need your help. You're better at this kind of thing than I am."

Megan sighed and put her arm down so she could look at Abby. "Fine. Where are you going?"

Abby started playing with her bottom lip. "I don't know."
 

Megan stared at her for a minute. "You're nervous?"

"What? No. Why would I be nervous?" Abby's denial didn't sound convincing even to her own ears and she kept messing with her lip.

Megan pointed at her. "You are nervous. I know that look. And you only play with your lip when you're nervous or deep in thought."

Abby forced her hand down to her side, clenching her fist to keep it there. "Maybe I'm deep in thought. I'm trying to decide what to wear, after all."

"Yeah. And you only do that when you're nervous about who you're seeing. The rest of the time you couldn't give two shits about your clothes."

"If you're not going to help, you can just go bury yourself under the blanket on the couch again." Abby turned back to her closet.

"Nope. I'm staying in your bed. You made me come in here, so here I am." Megan snuggled deeper into Abby's pillow. "Get me a blanket. I'm cold."
 

Abby stepped over to her bed and yanked the comforter out from under Megan and put it over her. "Why don't you wear more than shorts and a tank top since you always get cold when you have a hangover?"

"We're not here to discuss my wardrobe choices. Or my hangover recovery techniques." Megan pulled the comforter up to her chin and closed her eyes, humming her pleasure. "I love your comforter."

"Good. I'll buy you one just like it if you help me figure out what to wear for my date."

Megan cracked an eye open. "Liar."
 

"Fine. I won't drag your skinny butt out of my bed if you help me pick something out."
 

"Ass, Abby. You can say ass now. Your mom will never know as long as you don't cuss in front of her."

"Ass, then. Are you going to help me or not?" Abby had intended that to come out snappish and angry, but instead it sounded whiny and desperate. She cringed on the inside. It wasn't good that some guy she barely knew was turning her into this. Megan was right—she normally didn't care what people thought about her.

"You're going to lunch with the guy, not a masquerade ball. Wear something comfortable."

"Okay, but I don't want to look like a slob or something."

"Abby, he asked you out while you were wearing your Pluto t-shirt. I doubt he'd care if you wore a paper bag." Megan thought for a minute. "Just wear something dressy casual. Wear your sheer turquoise blouse over a white cami with your favorite shorts."

"Thank you." The relief in Abby's voice was audible. "Now get out so I can get dressed."

"Not gonna happen." Megan rolled over to face the wall. "You promised I could stay if I helped. I'm probably going to take a nap."

"Fine. Just promise you'll go puke in the bathroom."

Megan waved an arm at her. "I stopped puking two hours ago. I just need some sleep."

Abby stared at Megan's back and then shrugged before starting to get dressed. Megan's deep breathing turned to soft snores. For all her obnoxious prying, Megan was a good friend. She always helped Abby when she needed it, whether it was dealing with her mom or figuring out what to wear. Megan was the reason she had even applied to college, and it was Megan who found them a place to live with cheap rent they could both afford.

When she finished getting ready, she closed her bedroom door softly behind her to watch for Lance.
 

CHAPTER SIX

Lance was startled when his raised hand met empty air. He looked down to see Abby standing in the doorway, hair down, with a light sheen of gloss on her lips.
 

"Megan's sleeping. I'd rather you didn't wake her."

Lance let his hand drop. "Of course. Hangover?"

Abby smiled at him and pulled the door closed behind her. "Of course. Megan almost always has a hangover on the weekends."

"I'll keep that in mind." Lance ran his hand down her arm to turn her to him and then dropped a kiss on her mouth. Her lip gloss tasted like strawberries. Abby's brows rose in surprise, but she didn't say anything. "Ready?"

Abby nodded. Lance held her hand as they walked to his car, where he opened the door for her. She didn't even try to reach for the door first. He seemed to be making progress. He watched her pull her bare legs into the car one at a time. He was glad she'd worn shorts again. He liked that she didn't wear Bermuda shorts or capris. He didn't understand capris. To him they looked like pants that weren't long enough. Why did girls wear those? They weren't shorts and they weren't pants. They were just weird. But Abby wore short shorts, allowing him to admire the full expanse of her legs.
 

Every time she'd been in his car, he'd restrained himself from running a hand from knee to thigh, wondering if her skin was as soft as it looked. Since she'd been shy of him, he didn't want to scare her off by moving too fast. Even the kiss at the door might have been pushing things a little. But he'd already crossed that line, so he was confident she wouldn't slap him for kissing her now. Well, he'd been pretty sure, and since she didn't, that only proved him right. He was used to moving a lot faster than this when he was attracted to a girl. If she wasn't up for his pace, he usually just let her go. For some reason he didn't want to analyze, he didn't want to let Abby go. For her he'd slow down, give her a little space and time to get used to him. He wanted to get to know her better. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try to push the edges of her comfort zone.

Lance buckled his seatbelt and started the car. Glancing at Abby, he noticed her playing with her lower lip.

She dropped her hand in her lap and looked at him. "So, where are we going?"

He maneuvered out of his parking spot before answering. "You don't want to be surprised?"

Abby shook her head. "I don't like surprises."

"Really? Why not?"

Abby paused for a moment before answering, like she needed to think about how to answer. "Let's just say that in my experience, surprises are rarely good." Her voice was light, but her face was troubled, like she was remembering some particularly nasty surprises.

Lance thought about asking more, but decided he didn't really want to start their date off with heavy or depressing subjects. "Fair enough. I thought we'd go to the Peacock Lounge."

Abby scrunched her eyebrows and started playing with her lip again. "I haven't heard of that. Where is it?"

"It's the restaurant in the Davenport Hotel. You haven't been there?"

Abby shook her head. "I've never had a reason to go there. I haven't stayed at the hotel before or anything."

Lance laughed. "It's a nice restaurant. You don't have to stay at the hotel to eat there. And it's a really nice historic hotel. You haven't even gone to the Christmas Festival they host every year?"

"No. Have you?"

Lance nodded. "Yeah. I like to go see all the decorated trees. I usually go right after finals are over before I head home for Christmas break."

"Maybe I'll check it out this year."

Lance wanted to say that he'd like to take her. But by December he'd be back in Denton working at his dad's garage. No Christmas Festival at the Davenport for him.

Sitting at a stop light, Lance gave in to his urge to feel Abby's skin. He casually took his hand off the gear shift and dropped it on her knee. Her skin under his hand was smooth and silky. He felt her stiffen, so he didn't move any higher, just caressed her leg lightly with his thumb. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw her looking at him. She didn't say anything and didn't push him away.

The light turned green and he had to shift gears until they got up to speed. He let his hand rest on the seat this time, next to her leg, just brushing against her with his pinky. She relaxed, accepting that little touch, so he ran the back of his hand along the outside of her leg..