Authors: Tracy Krimmer
"Guy? What guy?" Heather asked, grabbing Beth's arm. "There's a guy?"
She looked down at the floor. "
Was
a guy. Harvey."
"Harvey. I didn't catch his name. You took off pretty fast. Is everything better now?" He asked, those concerned eyes returning.
Loaded question. Yes, better in the sense of being miles away from the guy she gave her virginity to while he tore her into pieces with lies. "Yeah. I'm fine."
He nodded his head, accepting the answer. She didn't want to get into the details, so thankfully he didn't ask. "Are you visiting Heather?"
"Nope," Heather jumped in. "She's going to school here and is living with me off campus." She turned her attention to Beth. "Mark's in his second year."
"Oh, really? What are you studying?"
"Haven't decided yet. I suppose I should pick a major soon. Right now I'm focusing on my general classes." His eyes moved to the clock. "I'm feeling a little, um, naked standing here. If you guys give me a minute to get changed, we can grab something. Sound good?"
She'd rather he went to dinner in the towel. Her stomach growled again; she had to eat. Mark seemed nice, but she really wanted to catch up with Heather. They hadn't seen each other since graduation. She took too long to express her thoughts as Heather replied, "Definitely. We'll just wait outside the building for you."
"Can't wait," he winked at Beth as he rushed into the locker room.
She released a deep breath and pretended to have a fan in her hand to cool herself down. "He's quite the looker. Not sure I want to have dinner with him, though. Not tonight, at least. I thought we were going to hang out."
"What's the big deal? We're
living
together, Beth. We'll get to hang out all the damn time."
Point taken. After dinner, they could catch up at home. And talk more about Mark. "You're right."
"Of course I'm right!" Beth lurched forward as Heather took her by the arm. "Let's go. He won't take long getting dressed." They backtracked the same way they came. "I think he's into you."
Beth stopped halfway up the steps. "Into me?"
"Yes, into you. Girl, he was checking you out. I
know
you wanted to glance underneath his towel."
Two girls passed them. How embarrassing. Beth hoped they didn't hear what Heather said, even though it
may
have been true." He's not even my type." Was
that
true? She never thought of herself having a type, but a gorgeous swimmer whose body did circles around Michael Phelps would never consider Beth
his
type.
Heather waved Beth up the stairs. "Hot is
everyone's
type. First, tell me about this Harvey guy. Is this the same Harvey who acted like such an asshole to me at your party?"
The linked their arms together and slowed their pace when they reached the top of the stairs. "He's not an asshole. Well, maybe he is. Anyway, yeah, same guy."
"You're dating him?"
"Not exactly, not anymore. We had a pretty major fight. Mark witnessed us arguing and he came to check if I was okay. We didn't exchange names or anything, and I only saw him the one time, so that's why I couldn't figure out who he was. I took off and haven't talked to Harvey since." Come to think of it, she hadn't heard from him, which both surprised her and stung a little. He didn't even care to try and contact her? She reached for her phone in case he tried to call. "Crap. My battery's dead."
Heather snatched the phone from Beth. They pushed through the heavy wooden doors that dumped them back outside to the sidewalk. The air was thick and hot but in a few weeks as school would start, Beth would be back here with a jacket on. Heather pulled her to the side and out of the way of oncoming foot traffic. "We'll charge it when we eat."
"Charge my phone
at
the restaurant?" Beth crossed her arms. "How is that even possible?"
"All the on-campus places have charging stations, a must with college-aged kids in this technology laced world. Trust me, this will happen more than once." She handed the phone back to Beth.
She shoved it back in her pocket. "Okay. This will take some getting used to."
"What will?" Mark jogged up behind them, dressed in light khaki pants and a green polo, a gym bag on his shoulder.
She tried not to stare, but Mark's glimmering eyes and extra long lashes sucked her in. Dinner with this hunk? Not a bad idea at all.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Anyone under twenty-one ended up at Teetotaler's Pub, located on campus, but close to the city. Designed for college students, the cute establishment served coffee, soda and tea, a safe option for those underage. It sat on a corner lot, aluminum blue siding twisting from the front to the side of the building. A striped red awning protected four windows and the entryway, with a large tan sign reading "Teetotaler's Pub" in cursive writing.
Mark held the door open for them, Beth certain he caught a glimpse of her tight shorts as she stepped past him. Good.
The inside surprised her. The building didn't give off an impression of hipness, but the decor said otherwise. Immediately to their left a bar dominated the space, a solid wood top curving around, high back stools resting in front already filled by patrons. Bright bulbs burst out of the silver holders, hung high from the ceiling. Specialty teas stocked the shelves behind the bar instead of bottles of alcohol. A fancy coffeemaker was placed at the far end. The remaining portion in the front of the pub contained booths, and they found an empty one and sat down.
Beth shifted her butt as the cold leather attaching to her thighs. "Okay, I smell pizza. Must have!"
Heather took a seat next to her, and Mark claimed the other side. "They only have pizza and burgers, so good choice." He waved his hand and a server approached shortly after.
Who was this guy? He just flicked his finger and people came. Big man on campus? The waiter took their order, a large cheese and sausage pizza, and quickly brought them a pitcher of soda.
"So, you and Heather have known each other a long time?" Beth tried to move her butt, but the leather just kept molding itself to her. Finally, she put her hands underneath.
"Since we ran around in diapers. Our moms are best friends. How about the two of you? What's the story?" His finger darted between them. They were long, but not feminine. Not in the least. Usually the visibility of veins in the hand or arm grossed Beth out, but Mark's invited them. They showed them off. They
owned
them. She couldn't even glance at his hands and not imagine what they'd feel like touching her.
Snap out of it, Beth. Answer the question.
"School. We went to high school together."
"I assumed."
"You assumed correctly then." She removed her hands long enough to point back at him.
"Oh, Beth! Give me your cell." Beth handed the phone to Heather, who reached over, opened a small hatch on the wall, which exposed ports and cables. She plugged in the phone and the light turned on indicating the charge had begun. Sweet.
"I'm sure you're excited to have your own place." Oh, God, he was rubbing his hands together.
"It's not actually. I'm staying with Heather. Her dad rents the apartment. Where do you live?"
"I rent a house with three other guys, a four bedroom colonial in the older side of town. I don't have to go far to get to the pool since it's close to campus. I love being able to practice so much. The place is expensive, but we work our butts off to afford it." He smirked at Heather. "Not all of us can be so lucky to have our daddies pay for our apartment."
Heather wrapped up a napkin and tossed it across the table, landing on Mark's lap. Heather's parent's wealth wasn't a secret, but they didn't typically flaunt their money. They had a moderate sized home and both worked. Each drove a Lexus, decked to the nines. Next to their house, the vehicles were probably the most expensive thing they owned. They spent two hours a day commuting to Illinois for work, so a comfortable car made sense. Comfort came at a price.
"I'll admit I'm lucky. Don't get me wrong, but your parents aren't exactly broke."
The pizza arrived and they halted their conversation as the waiter gave them each a plate. Making no qualms about it, Beth reached in and grabbed the first piece, the others quickly followed.
Mark took a bite of his pizza. "No, they're not, but they're not quite as well off as your family, either." He thumbed the corners of his mouth, catching a stray piece of cheese. "I have to help pay for my place."
The silence following Heather and Mark's tiny spat made Beth a little uneasy. She chewed on her pizza, taking in the scenery around her. The establishment was pretty busy with almost every booth filled and each stool at the bar taken. Her phone dinged with a text message. She wiped the grease off her hands and scanned the display. Harvey inquiring on her whereabouts.
"Anything important?" Heather asked.
"No. Lucy telling me to say hello to you." Beth hated lying, but talking about Harvey wouldn't have made the best conversation with Mark. She didn't want to bore anyone, or dump her problems on them. Seconds later, the dinging started again. Based on the time stamp, her messages were catching up from when the battery died. She'd review the texts when she got home.
"Jeez, Beth. Are you sure it's not a jealous boyfriend?" Heather smiled. "Perhaps Harvey?"
She pushed her phone back into her pocket and pulled at her shirt. Mark cleared his throat, picked up his soda and swirled the glass, the ice clanking against the sides. "So, Beth, what's your major?"
"Beth's a nerd." Heather teased, popping a piece of pepperoni in her mouth.
"Come on. Just because I like academics doesn't make me a nerd," Beth argued. She had spent her entire grade and high school career defending her desire to learn. She didn't want to have to do the same in college.
"Some say that's the exact definition."
"Not all of us could be cheerleaders." As much as she loved Heather, sometimes she got on Beth's nerves. So what if she'd rather pick up a book than a pair of pom poms? Cheerleading crossed her mind for about ten seconds in the sixth grade. Once she realized her dancing bordered on disastrous, she marked the activity off her list, and immersed herself in books instead.
Mark interrupted. "I happen to think a smart woman is sexy."
No one had complimented her with that before. Hopefully the dim lighting masked her red cheeks. "Education. My major is education."
"Considering the nerd status Heather gave you, you'll excel in your classes. Good for you. The world needs awesome teachers." He finally took a drink, his lips touching the rim of the glass while his eyes remained on hers.
Beth accepted the kind words, happy Mark seemed genuinely interested in learning more about her. "I know you said earlier you're working on your basic classes now. Any clue on your plans?"
"Go to the Olympics! Long shot, though, so not the most reliable option. I guess business. A nine to five isn't really for me. I wouldn't mind starting my own company." Mark moved his empty plate and cup to the edge of the table for the server to pick up. "Enough about school. What do you like to do for fun?"
Reading was her go-to answer, but how much of a nerd would she admit to being if she responded with that? Although he considered smart sexy, she doubted a homebody wrapping herself in a book was the kind of sexy he referred to.
"Not too hard of a question, I thought," Mark nudged her for a response. Heather kicked her foot to respond.
She shrugged. "Can I say the typical: listen to music, hang out with my friends?"
"You can say whatever you like. I enjoy listening to you." His elbows met the table and he rested his chin on his fists.
Never before had a man been so interested in what she had to say. She enjoyed the attention. Heather broke their mutual flirtation. "I'll tell you what Beth doesn't like - including her friend in conversations, apparently."
"Ouch. I guess we
have
been monopolizing the conversation." Mark leaned back in his chair.
"I say we shoot some pool," Heather suggested.
Mark brushed the top of his head. "I'm pretty good. I don't know if I'd do that."
"Actually, Beth is pretty good at it, too."
His eyes widened. "Really?" He crossed his arms. "I never would've guessed." He thought about it for a moment. "I suppose there isn't a specific type of pool player. You just don't come across as one."
"I'm okay. My dad and I used to play a lot when I was younger."
"Want to make it interesting?"
"What? Like a bet?"
"Yes, a bet. Aren't you a gambling girl? If I win, you go out on a date with me," he said.
She wasn't sure she wanted to make a wager, even though her chances were pretty good. She might even teach him a thing or two. "What if I beat you?"
He smirked at Heather, and then said to Beth, "You go out with me."
She laughed. "Okay, so either way, you win." She knew, however, she'd win, too. Mark was simple, relaxing, and a breath of fresh air compared to the mystery and darkness surrounding Harvey.
He tapped his hands on the table. "Seems that way. Let's play."
Three billiard tables centered down the room on the other side of the establishment. No one claimed the table on the far left. While Beth and Mark selected their cue sticks, Heather went to the jukebox and picked out a play list.
Mark set the balls up in the triangle, the mix of stripes and solids intertwined with the numerical ordered balls. He slowly lifted it off and handed the cue ball to Beth. He winked at her. "Ladies first."
She took the ball from his hand and set it on the starting point on the table. If she messed up the break, she'd look like an idiot. Ugh, why did Heather have to tell Mark she knew how to play? She squiggled the tip into a square of chalk, and then rubbed some powder on her hands, and up and down the stick.
"A professional, I see." Mark said to her.