Romance: Young Adult Romance: The Perfect Game (A Highschool Football Romance) (Bad Boy Nerd New Adult Romance) (36 page)

I tried to avoid looking at the clock.  It always seemed to make my shift pass slower when I knew the time.  Instead, I surveyed the grocery store for any customers that may come my way and found none, really.  Working in the wee hours of the morning would do that I suppose, but it made every night drag on almost unbearably. 

My book that I had brought with me wouldn’t last the entire night and I was hoping to save it until later so I could finish on the bus ride home.  But, it was an indulgence I couldn’t avoid, so I picked up the small paperback and committed myself to a couple hours of reading.

“Ahem…” I heard from behind my register. 

I looked, assuming it was my boss, and I wasn’t wrong.

“Cassidy, I know it’s a boring night, but could you at least make it
look
like you’re doing something?  If it stays this slow then I’ll have to send you or Margaret home.”  He said while pushing his funny little glasses back to the crook of his nose.

“Understood,” I said with a sigh while replacing my bookmark and book.  The windows looked a bit dirty, so I snagged a nearby bottle of window cleaner and a rag and begrudgingly trudged toward the new task.

As I passed, I shot Maggie a glance of utter boredom and desperation. 

“If I didn’t need money, Maggie, life would be a lot easier.  And, I wouldn’t have to deal with cleaning windows when my degree says I should be designing buildings.”  I said in passing.

“If I didn’t need money then I probably wouldn’t be sober right now.”  She replied.

I giggled and continued for the entrance.  The doors parted, and I walked through in a regal manner.  I pretended they opened just for me; closing my eyes to imagine the court waiting for my grand entrance.

Then I bumped into him.

“Excuse me,” I said, “sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

He was, unfortunately, gorgeous and the klutz that I imagined myself as made me blush in embarrassment.  His face was rugged, and square jawed with a tousle of light auburn hair poking from his weather beaten cowboy hat.  What caught my notice the most were his perfect blue eyes, gazing down at me.

He stifled a laugh and I knew my chances were pretty nil on him asking me out on a date. 

“So, do you like to walk with your eyes closed often?” he asked, a bit of an accent slurred from his tongue.  He must be a southerner judging from the hat and the accent. 

“Well, a queen doesn’t need to watch where she’s going,” I responded with a devilish grin.

“Queen, eh?  Well, your majesty, do you think you could help me with some shopping?  I’m a bit new ‘round here and I’m sure a Queen would know these parts best.”  He replied.

“Oh, of course!” I struggled out, “One moment.” 

I threw the rag and the bottle of cleaner to Maggie, while mouthing the words, ‘so hot’.  She nodded and couldn’t help but laugh.  I straightened my hair and clothes a bit and returned to the stranger.

“Right this way,” I said.

He offered out an arm, which seemed like a bit of an odd gesture, but I gladly maneuvered to his side and hooked my arm under his. 

“Alright, so what are you looking for, mister …?”

“Harris, John Harris.  Glad to meet you, for the first time missy.”  He said.

“Oh, Mr. Harris-“

“John, please.  Mr. Harris is my dad’s name.  And he ain’t dead yet.  Lovely lady like you callin’ me Mister would just break my heart,” He said.

I was now feeling a little flush over the kind compliment; I don’t think I’ve ever been called a ‘lovely lady’ before. 
             

“I need some orange juice and soup for a good buddy of mine who went and got himself sick on the ride over.  Think you could help me out, miss…” he said with a smile. 

“Cassidy,” I replied, “just Cassidy.  And, I can help you with that just fine.  Follow me.”

I led him around the store; he bought a few things more than just some juice and soup.  After the few small moments we spent wandering around the store like a new couple we slowly started to return to my register.

“I suppose this is where we part ways,” he said, a bit downtrodden at the thought before he added, “I’ll be here for about a week before heading home, wouldn’t suppose you’d be interested in showing me the ins and outs of the area on your day off?”     

I started feeling flush again; this charming cutie asking me out on a date was overwhelming.  I barely managed to say anything in response.

“Ye … yes, I think I can work something out.  I’m off tomorrow if you’d like,” I said.

“How about the day after,” he replied, “I’m a bit busy tomorrow; unless you want to show me around the city at night, say around 6pm?”

It went from a daytime stroll to an evening date in just one sentence, and it was an offer to which I couldn’t imagine saying ‘no’.

“Okay, tomorrow afternoon at 6pm.  BUT, since I don’t know you well enough to be out past 10 o’clock I may need to call it an early evening.  Think you can handle that, MISTER John?” 

He smiled, with those amazing high cheekbones, at my attempt at humor. 

“I think I can handle that MISS Cassidy.  Wear something for walkin’; don’t need to dress up all fancy for me.  I like knowing you aren’t expecting me to carry you everywhere when a shoe breaks.”  He said. 

He pulled out a small notepad from his pocket along with a pen and wrote down a phone number and address. 

“Be out front of there at 6 and we’ll have ourselves a time.”  He grabbed his bags, gave me a brief hug and left. 

Meanwhile, I stared at his butt in those tight jeans as he walked out the door.  Then I heard a snapping sound in my ear.

“Cassidy, if you keep staring your eyes are going to fall out.” resounded Maggie’s voice echoing in my head.

“Maggie, if they fall out, at least the last thing I got to see was that.”

With another laugh, she wandered back to her register and I to mine.  I reached down, picked up my book and shoved the note inside.  Tomorrow would be quite interesting.

2.

I must have had the wrong address.  I was standing in front of what I can only assume was the most expensive hotel in the city.  It was easy to laugh at myself over the prank John must’ve been pulling on me.  Call myself a queen and meet at a hotel that only a queen would stay in.

Nevertheless I wanted to see if he would still show.  I pulled out the slip of paper from between the pages of my book and dialed the number. 

“Hello?” it was him and at least he hadn’t given me a fake phone number as well.

“Hi, this is Cassidy.  Okay, I’m laughing at your joke.  Are you really meeting me in front of this palace?”  I quipped.

“Joke?” he said quizzically, “I’ll be down in a minute, wait right there.” 

The line went silent and I got lost in thought for a moment.  I slapped myself on the cheeks to see if I was perhaps dreaming but all I felt was the sting of my own hands.  If he really was staying
at this place
I would have to ask him how.

It wasn’t too long before he strolled out of the building.  This time he was wearing a plain leather jacket over a sturdy white shirt and his hat still resting on his head.  The jacket looked like it could barely hold in his broad shoulders and his rough jeans were still stained with dirt.  He looked quite out of place when compared to the other suit wearers adorning the sidewalk.

“You stayed here?” I said

“Where else should I stay?  My assistant set this up, I’m not one for high places; I like to keep my feet on the ground.” He said, straightening his jacket.

“You look ready for a day on the town, what would you like to see?” I asked. 

He thought for a moment, “I want to go somewhere that locals go.  Where do you go when the night is young?”

I doubt he’d like to go to the corner bar that I frequent, but I wouldn’t mind getting a drink to take everything in. 

“I have a small bar near my place that I enjoy.  We could go there.  If we walk, it’ll pass by one of my favorite sights in the city.”

He gave me a look up and down, admiring my slim physique it seemed.  I took his advice and wore a pair of jeans that I like that made my backside more pronounced.  I also threw on a pair of old calf length boots that I used to wear hiking which were more comfy than my work shoes. 

“Tell me, did you wear those jeans to entice me?  Cause you really didn’t have to try that hard, Darlin’” he said.

“I wear what I wear because I like it, it’s up to you if you like it too, but this is the best I have for a long walk.” I replied.

“I think a nice long walk oughta do us some good.  Not too hot or cold, I think it’s just about right.”  He presented his arm to me again and I gladly took it.

He was right, the weather was quite nice.  These late summer nights were wonderful for casual strolls and the cool breeze coming off from the water just made me want to come closer to him for warmth.  I almost wondered if he’d planned this all along.

We continued to chat as we walked along the avenues and after a few blocks I turned down toward the ocean where we eventually stopped.

I leaned over the iron railing, staring out at the ocean that lapped along the shoreline beneath me.  The ebb and flow of the water soothed my nerves whenever I came here and now was no different.

“I love this place,” I said, “I can’t imagine being somewhere else. 
The calming sound of the ocean, the ocean breeze and the sounds of the cars on the road driving along just make the city feel so alive and real.
  Each and every time I travel I end up missing home and I always end up missing this.”  I gestured.

He leaned in next to me and looked out over the ocean, while the sun set far in the distance.  Silent and stern faced he watched, taking in the sights and sounds. 

“It reminds me of my own home.  I might not have an ocean, but the feeling is the same.”

“Where do you live?”  I asked.

“I have a ranch in Texas.  It’s bigger than I can work alone, but at least I know it’s mine,” he said.  He seemed proud to talk of home.

I stood silent and let myself relax. 

“I could use a drink,” I said, “we’re not far from the bar.”

He nodded and we continued on.  The mood shifted and I could feel his need to return home. 

We entered the corner bar, Nelson’s pub.  It was dark inside for the most part, behind the bar a strand of white Christmas light illuminated the shelves of liquor and in the back a low hanging lamp lit the pool table that was being used by a few people laughing about who knows what.

I sat at the table I liked, the one nearest the bay window that looked out to the street.  The seats were low but comfortable, but it was an awkward fit for a tall man like John.  He looked so out of place with his knees smacking into the tabletop.  He spent a few seconds trying to find the most comfortable position before just pulling the chair out and crossing his legs at an angle away from the table.

“I’ll just stick to bourbon,” John said to the woman taking our order. 

I decided that beer would be easiest and we continued our conversation.  Though most of the conversation in the beginning amounted to pleasantries and small talk it began to get a little more serious and sometimes playful as the drinks started to wear on.

“So, when are you going to invite me to visit?” I asked with a drunken smile.

“When do you
want
to visit?” he replied. 

“I’m only joking I think; besides, weren’t you going to invite me up to your room?” I said.

“I
could
invite you to my room, but I think you’d enjoy the trip.  You could take my jet.”

“Your jet?” I asked giving a laugh of non-belief, “what else do you own, a private island?”

“I sold the island, it’s not as much fun and I hardly ever went,” he said, “I just like relaxing after a nice long ride more than sitting on some beach.”

I couldn’t stifle my laughter; this guy was really trying to show off. 

“Okay, I’m done for the night.” I said. 

He took another sip and finished off his fifth bourbon of the night and stood up.

“Well, shall we head back to my place, or yours?” he asked expectantly.

“I shall head back to my place, and you shall head back to yours.  I don’t think I can seriously stay with some guy I just met.  Especially when that guy goes and tells a bunch of stories I can hardly believe.  It’s been a pleasure getting to know you,
mister
John.  Have a safe trip home.”  With that I picked myself up, cautiously, and started feeling a little more drunk than I thought.

“Watch yourself,” he said, “here let me get you home at least.”

He held me upright better than I was able to hold myself.  I did take a bit of comfort in his grasp and he seemed trustworthy.  Whether that was the alcohol or me talking I couldn’t say, but at least I would have a safer walk home with him nearby.

“This way,” I said pointing to the wall, realizing a bit too late my error then pointing for the door.