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He’s warming up, throwing to, of all people, Justin “Dimples” Harper. Even from a distance, I can see it––the intensely focused look on his face, that force of will that awes me. In my dirty stinking mind, I picture him as a gladiator in ancient Rome and my body heats up hotter than the sun. A sideways glance reveals that no one has noticed the filthy wandering of my mind so I return to ogling. He’s wearing those undercover shirts and leggings made for athletes that band across and supports muscles. And they’re tight. Reeeaaal tight. What devil thought those up? Every muscle, every curve of that mouthwatering body is on full display.
Okay, enough.
I tear my gaze away before I do something super stupid like pant. That’s when I notice the peculiar look on Ethan’s face. I take a sip of my diet soda and wait him out.
“You know he hasn’t dated anyone since Kim left.”
My brows inch up my forehead. “And you’re telling me this because…”
Ethan’s alert gaze narrows. “Because I think you two would be good for each other.”
Furtively, I check to see if Sam is listening and find that he isn’t, thank God. He’s busy playing Minecraft on the new iPod touch Cal brought home for him the other day. The look on his face when he opened the box had me biting the inside of my cheek in an effort to stave off the tears welling in my eyes. Ever since the day Sam destroyed Calvin on Madden, the two of them have been getting along really well. Calvin is making a serious effort with Sam, which has not gone unnoticed by yours truly.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No, he doesn’t want a relationship. He’s told me repeatedly. He’s into booty calls, nothing serious. And trust me, I’m the least likely candidate for a booty call.”
“Booty calls? Where did you get that idea?”
Huh. The befuddled look on Ethan’s face gives me pause.
“He basically said so.” I scroll through my mental diary. “When we were at the Yankee game.”
Not only does this not clear up any confusion, Ethan looks utterly shocked. “He said that? He said he’s looking for booty calls?” The last word is spoken with a laughing inflection, his brown eyes wide in anticipation of my answer. I get the sneaking suspicion that I’m missing something.
“Well, he didn’t technically say it.”
The expression on Ethan’s face clears. “Calvin has never––to my knowledge and I’ve known him since we lived together our freshman year at State––been with a woman he wasn’t dating.”
No booty calls? Why didn’t I see this before? He hasn’t had a woman over since I’ve known him. But I thought that was out of concern for Sam…huh.
“Okay, so he dates a lot. Why are we even discussing this? He’s still not interested in a serious relationship. And I’m not either…looking for anything, that is…neither a booty call, nor a relationship.”
“Camilla––” Ethan says, followed by an exasperated exhale. As if he’s trying to explain algebra to a two year old.
“What?”
“The only person Calvin’s ever dated is Kim.”
He said he hadn’t been on a date in eleven years. Holy shit…that’s what he meant. The only person he ever dated…he married the only person he ever dated. Ethan waits patiently for me to wrap my mind around this newfound information. Meanwhile, the stadium roars and everyone comes to their feet. Titans’ players charge through the tunnel and fireworks erupt. I snap out of my trance just as Calvin takes the field for the coin toss. My eyes start at his broad, padded shoulders and work their way down to the swells of his perfect ass. I mean…Lord have mercy. No one, and I mean no one has ever looked better in a pair of tight, shiny pants. He married the only person he ever dated? My mind keeps returning to this incongruity, chewing on it.
The camera pans to Calvin’s face. It’s on every screen in the clubhouse and around the stadium. His expression stoic, his scruff covered jaw tight. His eyes are twin icebergs resembling the one that sunk the Titanic. I can’t see the pretty features anymore. All I see is a man that has been a true friend in my hour, strike that, hours of need, my confidant…my protector.
Crapola, this is bad, this is really bad.
The L.A. Rams won the coin toss and have elected to receive. Calvin marches onto the field, relaxed, in command, a general rallying his troops. The game starts and all goes well. Cal makes a couple of easy completions. The atmosphere in the clubhouse is much more relaxed because my dear friend is marching the troops steadily downfield.
On a third and ten, he connects with Justin on a slant route that turns into a thirty yard sprint into the end zone. The crowd goes nuts. I’m jumping up and down while Sam and Ethan smile at me. I catch the eyes of a couple of the wives and they smile back. All is right in the world.
