Playing Chase (Against The Wall) (5 page)

“Hmm,” is all she says. For the next few minutes, Tiffany doesn’t say a word. She packs her giant leather tote and hoists it over her shoulder. “I’m going to go. Thanks for being honest with me today. You could have just let me keep teaching the same way for the rest of the day, but you didn’t sugarcoat it and you made me a better me. And for that, I thank you.”

I nod, the words hiding from me again.

“See you on Monday, Mr. Marino.”

Great. We’re back to that.

I’ve checked my email several times to be sure I have the right place. Mel said Sycamore Park at
eleven o’clock. I’m here along with a shit load of screaming kids and people walking their dogs. I have no idea how I’m supposed to know who my date is. I guess she’ll find me since she’s seen my picture on the profile.

Scanning the park for anything out of the ordinary, I half expect to see the girls in the bushes with a telephoto lens or a hidden video camera. And now that the image is in my head, I feel like a crack fiend twitching and looking in all directions
, like someone is watching me.

“Chase?”

I turn my head toward the voice calling my name. Instinctively, my brow rises at the woman in front of me. This can’t be whom they set me up with. She’s gorgeous: Long dark hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a slender figure. Nice rack too. There has to be some catch.

“Yes, that’s me.” I scoot to the side of the bench and gesture for her to have a seat next to me.

“It’s nice to meet you. Although, I already feel like I know you.” She sits nervously, tucking her hair behind her ears. “This is new to me. I’ve never done the online thing, but your emails just got me so hot, I just had to meet you.”

Swallowing hard, I almost choke on her words. “Excuse me? My emails?”

She’s breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling with heated pants. “Don’t be shy now. You know you get me excited with your alpha talk. The last time, I came so hard when you told me to pinch my nipples while riding my dildo.” She draws closer to me and I scoot away.

“Umm,” is all I can say. What the hell were those bitches thinking? This woman is talking about nipples and dildos and I don’t even know her name yet.

The nipple pincher stands quickly and moves swiftly to my lap, straddling me like we’re not in a public place, with young children just yards away.

“I’ve always wanted to have sex in a public place too. I never thought it would happen until I met you,” she whispers in my ear
, before taking a nip at my lobe. I try to push her off me, but she has a tight grip on the back of the bench behind me. “Don’t worry, baby. I came prepared. I wore a long skirt just like you said I should.” Her flowery skirt splays around us and she’s right. If we wanted to do something, our parts wouldn’t be visible. Although, it wouldn’t take much imagination for the next Einstein to figure out what we were up to. “Touch me, Chase.” Before I can register what she’s doing next, my hand is under her skirt and moving toward her center.

Holy fuck! Um, no. This is not happening. On any other day, I
may have been turned on by a woman jamming my hand into her wet pussy, but this isn’t one of those times. I yank my hand away and stand, Nipple Pincher dangling from my body. I take hold of her forearms and loosen her grip. As she slides down my front, I’m sickened to think she’s left snail trails all the way down my clothes.

“Sorry, but this is just one big misunderstanding. I’m sure you’re a very nice woman who deserves to be taken in a public place, but I’m just not the guy to do it.”

I leave her with a scowl on her face like I just slapped her. I would feel bad for her if she wasn’t crazy enough to try to have sex in front of a bunch of kids. What the hell is wrong with her?

And what the hell is wrong with me?

I shake my head the whole way back to my car, replaying everything that went down. But mostly, I’m in a hurry to find a restroom.

So I can wash my hand. 

And maybe take a shower.

I feel dirty.

When I arrive at home, I head straight to my room trying to avoid my dad.

My plan doesn’t work. He must have heard me and follows me into my space, tossing himself onto my bed with a big humph.

“Bad day?” he asks.

I don’t answer. Instead, I concentrate on scrubbing my hands with soap and scalding water.

“I can tell by the sneer on your face, son. What do you say you come out with me tonight? I could use a wingman.” I catch a glimpse of his wicked smile in the mirror.

“No thanks.” I grab a pair of workout shorts and an old tee, before shuffling back into my bathroom.

“Come on. I’m not taking no for an answer. You haven’t gone out on a Saturday night the whole time I’ve been staying with you. You’re acting like an old man, Chase. You’re young and good looking, you should be out there banging the babes.”

No, he
didn’t
just say that. “I said no thanks, Dad. Now, would you mind? I want to take a shower.”

He rolls his eyes. “I said I’m not taking no for an answer.” He pushes himself off my bed, leaving the comforter crumpled and hanging off the side. “Not, no thanks
, either. Be ready by eight. You’re going.”

He leaves before I can protest.

Shit!

The man is set in his ways. There’s no getting out of it
, unless I’m ready for World War III, which I’m not. It’ll be a lot easier to just go with him. It can’t possibly be worse than my date. At least I hope not.

We arrive at a new local country and western restaurant and bar. I don’t know how my dad finds these places, but the view isn’t bad at all. When we snag two empty seats at the bar as a few people leave, women dressed in short shorts and cropped tanks take our drink order.

My dad gets a Coors Light, which makes me think of Shelly. I chuckle inside as I take a swig from my Shocktop. I think she’d approve of my choice. It’s not completely transparent. And plus, it’s served in a mason jar. I bet she’d get a kick of out that.

“Hey, boys.” Two women join us. One presses her boobs into the side of my arm. Her friend is the talker. “Want to dance?”

“Sure, doll. I can’t refuse someone as beautiful as you.” My dad winks at her, takes her hand, and they disappear into the throngs of people on the dance floor.

Boobs doesn’t say anything. She just smiles up at me as she settles into my dad’s chair. I don’t have anything to say either. I’d much rather sit here all night and watch the servers saunter back and forth in their cute little shorts.

“You’re not a dancer like your brother?” she asks.

It takes me a minute to understand about whom she’s talking about. I laugh for a few breaths. “He’s my dad,” I tell her, with a slight chuckle. “And no, I don’t dance.”

She frowns and then pulls her glass up to her mouth, drawing in her straw and taking one hell of a sip.

I continue checking out the scenery. And that’s when I spot her.

It’s Tiffany.

And she sure the hell isn’t wearing her grandma suit.

I watch her with her group of friends. She throws her head back with
laughter—her neck exposed looking all sorts of sexy. She waves her hands in the air as she speaks animatedly about something. The genuine smile on her face makes me want to walk over there and find out what is making her so happy. She never looks this at ease at work, and I wish she did.

“She’s pretty,” boob girl says, putting some distance between us. Thankfully.

I smile like an idiot. “She’s beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself.

“She’s one lucky lady. If a man looked at me that way, I’d melt.” She hops off her barstool and pats me on the shoulder. “Go get her.”

My throat tightens at her words. I can’t “go get her,” but I wish I could.

I can say hello though. Right?

Against my better judgment, I take my mason jar and start weaving through the crowd toward Tiffany.

I’m only a few feet away when she sees me. She mouths an
oh shit
, her face goes blank and she drops her head, shifting to the side to stand behind her friend. She’s trying to hide from me?

Oh no you don’t.

“Tiffany?” I don’t know why it comes out as a question. I know it’s her.

She loses her shield as her friend steps away. Damn, she’s beautiful in brown cowboy boots and a sexy
-as-hell white sundress. Only about six inches of her tan legs show between her boots and the hem of her dress, but it’s hot. It leaves my mind in the gutter imagining the rest of her gorgeous legs.

“Mr. Marino.” She glances up at me with a weak smile, her long hair sweeping across her face. Damn, she looks amazing with her hair down. 

“Come on, now. Call me Chase, please. It’s after hours.” I hold up my beer to prove my point.

Her friends giggle. “Okay. Chase, these are my friends.” She introduces each of them to me, and I try to remember their names. I know that would be important to her and, for some reason, I want to please her.

“Nice to meet you, ladies.” I shake each of their hands, trying to make eye contact with them but failing miserably. I can hardly take my eyes off of Tiffany.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Son of a bitch.

“Hey, Dad.” The words come out through gritted teeth. “Tiffany, I’ll see you on Monday.” My smile fades as I turn away from her to catch my dad before he makes himself the center of attention with my student teacher and all of her friends.

I toss my arm over my dad’s shoulder and usher him away from the group of girls.

“What was that all about?” he asks, puffing out his chest to me.

I sigh. “That was my student teacher. I was just saying hello. I don’t need you to go making an ass out of both of us.”

“Do you have a claim on her or something?” he asks, challenging me.

“No, I don’t. I work with her.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.”

If he wasn’t my dad, I’d hit him. “Look, I’m just trying to keep it professional.”

“She’s hot.” Fuck!

“Whatever. Let’s go.” I didn’t want to come in the first place. Now, I really want to get my dad as far away from Tiffany as possible.

“You go, son. I think I’ll stay awhile longer.” He glances over his shoulder at Tiffany and her friends. She looks this way with a quick smirk. I give her an apologetic smile. I’ll have to explain to her why I left in such a hurry. I’d hate to think that I may have hurt her feelings
, leaving the way I did.

When I look back at my dad, his gaze is still focused on Tiffany and now, I really do want to punch him. “No, I’ll stay.” There’s no way in hell I’m leaving him with her.

“Suit yourself. I’m going to go dance with my little honey I found earlier.” I roll my eyes as he walks away. What did I ever do to deserve this guy? Why couldn’t I have a normal dad?

A seat opens up at the bar and I take it. I need a refill. This is going to be one long
-ass night.

I try to get back to observing the servers’ uniforms, but my gaze keeps shifting toward Tiffany. Every once and in awhile our eyes meet and she smiles. Each time, her smile gets wider and wider, her skin more and more pink. She can’t be getting drunk, can she? I can’t imagine my Tiffany letting her hair down long enough to get intoxicated.

My
Tiffany?

What the hell is wrong with me?

I need to get the hell out of here before I do something stupid. I search the crowd of hillbilly dancers for my dad.

“Are you going to hold up the bar all night?”

The sound of her voice has me whipping around and almost falling off the stool.

She laughs a little, holding her hand to her mouth. “Why come if you’re going to nurse the same beer for hours and never even dance? You’re getting looks from all the available women here
, and you haven’t even taken the bait. What gives, Mr. Marino?”

I raise a brow. “Chase,” I correct her. “And we’re not having this conversation. Gotta keep it professional.”

“Then I guess I should continue calling you Mr. Marino.” Her words come out in a bit of a slur. She is drunk. I have to choke down a laugh. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it.

“Maybe you should, Ms. Gutierrez,” I tease her. She doesn’t say anything right away, so I try to break the ice. “You know what? You never told me why you wanted to be a teacher? Why did you join the ranks of the overworked and underpaid?”

She laughs. “Well, let me tell you a story. It’s not as good as yours, but I like it.”

“Go for it. I’m all ears.”

She smiles widely and my heart skips a beat. “When I was in school, everything bored me. It seemed like everything was just one long day of reading textbooks and taking notes. My teachers rarely did anything to inspire any real learning. That’s why I was so upset when you told me I sucked, and I was boring.”