The Goal
Page 22
“I’d be lying if I said I’ve never been to a strip club. But I kind of did get dragged here tonight—I voted for the sports bar. And the only reason I even came to Boston was because…” I trail off, because the last thing I want to do is scare her off again.
“Because what?”
Fuck it. I shrug and say, “I was hoping maybe I’d run into you.”
Sabrina laughs. “Boston’s a big place—you really expected to randomly run into me?”
“Expected, no. Hoped? Abso-fucking-lutely.”
That gets me another laugh.
We stare at each other for a beat. My voice comes out gravelly as I murmur, “You unblocked my number.”
“I unblocked your number,” she agrees.
Then she moistens her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and I swallow a groan. Fuck, I want to kiss her.
“I should…get back to work.”
There’s only the tiniest sliver of reluctance in her words, but a sliver is all I need. “When do you get off?”
“Two.”
“Do you want to hang out when you’re done?”
She doesn’t answer right away. I stand there, holding my breath, hoping that the raw, overpowering lust I feel for her doesn’t show on my face, praying that she’ll say—
“Yes.”
9
Tucker
I wait for Sabrina in the parking lot. Almost all the cars are gone, except for a half dozen that probably belong to the employees. The guys went back to Brody’s apartment a couple hours ago, where they’ll probably stay up all night drinking. I told them I was meeting a girl for a late bite, which got me a high-five from Hollis even as he griped about what a shitty person I was for not making sure she had a friend.
After they dropped me off at an all-night diner a few blocks from the club, the site of my supposed date, I killed an hour by grabbing a burger and chugging some coffee so that I wouldn’t fall asleep within five minutes of seeing Sabrina. Then I walked back to Boots & Chutes, and now I’m leaning against the driver’s side of Sabrina’s Honda, monitoring the front entrance in anticipation.
When she appears, my excitement kicks up a notch. She’s wearing a wool coat that goes down to her knees. Below that, her legs are bare.
My dick twitches as I wonder if she’s still wearing those booty shorts. Then I chastise myself, because I could tell how embarrassed she was earlier by the skimpy outfit.
“Hey,” she says as she reaches me.
“Hey.”
I want to kiss her, but she’s not sending any c’mere, big boy signals. I need to touch her, though, so I step closer and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
Hesitating, she bites her lip. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?” I’m leaving the decision entirely up to her.
“Are you hungry?”
“Nope. Just ate. You?”
“I had an energy bar during my last break.”
I wink at her. “You thought you’d need energy, huh? Why’s that?”
Her cheeks take on the cutest shade of pink. I see her fighting a smile, and when it breaks free, I do an internal fist pump. She’s so gorgeous when she smiles. I really wish she’d do it more often.
She glances around. “Your truck’s not here.”
“Yeah, it’s back in Hastings. We drove up in Fitzy’s car.”
She nods and nibbles on her lip again. “I…well…what should we do, then?”
“No pressure.” I move even closer, loosely resting one hand on her hip while the other traces the line of her jaw. My pulse speeds up when she doesn’t shy away from my touch. “We can walk around. Just chill in the car and talk. Whatever you want.”
Sabrina lets out a sigh that leaves a white puff in the cold night air. “I don’t feel like walking. It’s cold out and my feet hurt from being on them all night. And my car is way too small for you. You’d be uncomfortable in five seconds.”
“Do you want to go back to your place?”
She tenses up. “Not really.” Another breath slides out. “I don’t want you to…”
“To what?”
“I don’t want you to see where I live.” She sounds defensive. “It’s shitty, okay?”
My heart squeezes a little. I don’t respond, because I’m not sure what to say.
“Well, not my bedroom,” she relents. “That’s not shitty.”
Sabrina goes silent, as if she’s fighting some internal battle.
“I meant what I said before,” I tell her in a soft voice. “No pressure. But if you’re worried that I’m going to judge where you live, stop right now. I don’t care if you live in a mansion or a shack. I just want to spend time with you, wherever and whenever.”
When I rub her lips with my thumb, the tension seeps out of her shoulders. “Okay,” she finally whispers. “Let’s go to my house.”
I search her face. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’d rather be somewhere warm and cozy right now. Not that my house is warm and cozy, but it’s definitely warmer in there than it is out here.”
Having made her decision, she unlocks the driver’s door and slides behind the wheel. I get into the passenger side. And she’s not wrong—my legs are not digging this vehicle. Even when I push the chair back as far as it can go, there’s still no room to stretch out.
She starts the car and pulls out of the lot. “I don’t live too far from here.”
After that, she doesn’t say much for the rest of the drive. I don’t know if she’s nervous or if she regrets agreeing to hang with me, but I hope to hell it’s not the latter.
I don’t push her to talk, because I know how skittish she can be. Patience is the name of the game here, and patience with Sabrina James comes with a reward. She’s got so much passion that it’s simply a matter of helping her reach a level of comfort that allows her to let go.
When we turn onto her street, I pretend it’s the first time that I’ve ever been here. That I don’t recognize the narrow, ramshackle row houses. That I hadn’t slept in my car right over by that uneven curb the night I followed her home to make sure she got there safe.
Sabrina turns into a driveway at the side of the house, steering toward the small carport in the rear. She kills the engine and exits the car in silence.
“Because what?”
Fuck it. I shrug and say, “I was hoping maybe I’d run into you.”
Sabrina laughs. “Boston’s a big place—you really expected to randomly run into me?”
“Expected, no. Hoped? Abso-fucking-lutely.”
That gets me another laugh.
We stare at each other for a beat. My voice comes out gravelly as I murmur, “You unblocked my number.”
“I unblocked your number,” she agrees.
Then she moistens her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and I swallow a groan. Fuck, I want to kiss her.
“I should…get back to work.”
There’s only the tiniest sliver of reluctance in her words, but a sliver is all I need. “When do you get off?”
“Two.”
“Do you want to hang out when you’re done?”
She doesn’t answer right away. I stand there, holding my breath, hoping that the raw, overpowering lust I feel for her doesn’t show on my face, praying that she’ll say—
“Yes.”
9
Tucker
I wait for Sabrina in the parking lot. Almost all the cars are gone, except for a half dozen that probably belong to the employees. The guys went back to Brody’s apartment a couple hours ago, where they’ll probably stay up all night drinking. I told them I was meeting a girl for a late bite, which got me a high-five from Hollis even as he griped about what a shitty person I was for not making sure she had a friend.
After they dropped me off at an all-night diner a few blocks from the club, the site of my supposed date, I killed an hour by grabbing a burger and chugging some coffee so that I wouldn’t fall asleep within five minutes of seeing Sabrina. Then I walked back to Boots & Chutes, and now I’m leaning against the driver’s side of Sabrina’s Honda, monitoring the front entrance in anticipation.
When she appears, my excitement kicks up a notch. She’s wearing a wool coat that goes down to her knees. Below that, her legs are bare.
My dick twitches as I wonder if she’s still wearing those booty shorts. Then I chastise myself, because I could tell how embarrassed she was earlier by the skimpy outfit.
“Hey,” she says as she reaches me.
“Hey.”
I want to kiss her, but she’s not sending any c’mere, big boy signals. I need to touch her, though, so I step closer and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
Hesitating, she bites her lip. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?” I’m leaving the decision entirely up to her.
“Are you hungry?”
“Nope. Just ate. You?”
“I had an energy bar during my last break.”
I wink at her. “You thought you’d need energy, huh? Why’s that?”
Her cheeks take on the cutest shade of pink. I see her fighting a smile, and when it breaks free, I do an internal fist pump. She’s so gorgeous when she smiles. I really wish she’d do it more often.
She glances around. “Your truck’s not here.”
“Yeah, it’s back in Hastings. We drove up in Fitzy’s car.”
She nods and nibbles on her lip again. “I…well…what should we do, then?”
“No pressure.” I move even closer, loosely resting one hand on her hip while the other traces the line of her jaw. My pulse speeds up when she doesn’t shy away from my touch. “We can walk around. Just chill in the car and talk. Whatever you want.”
Sabrina lets out a sigh that leaves a white puff in the cold night air. “I don’t feel like walking. It’s cold out and my feet hurt from being on them all night. And my car is way too small for you. You’d be uncomfortable in five seconds.”
“Do you want to go back to your place?”
She tenses up. “Not really.” Another breath slides out. “I don’t want you to…”
“To what?”
“I don’t want you to see where I live.” She sounds defensive. “It’s shitty, okay?”
My heart squeezes a little. I don’t respond, because I’m not sure what to say.
“Well, not my bedroom,” she relents. “That’s not shitty.”
Sabrina goes silent, as if she’s fighting some internal battle.
“I meant what I said before,” I tell her in a soft voice. “No pressure. But if you’re worried that I’m going to judge where you live, stop right now. I don’t care if you live in a mansion or a shack. I just want to spend time with you, wherever and whenever.”
When I rub her lips with my thumb, the tension seeps out of her shoulders. “Okay,” she finally whispers. “Let’s go to my house.”
I search her face. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’d rather be somewhere warm and cozy right now. Not that my house is warm and cozy, but it’s definitely warmer in there than it is out here.”
Having made her decision, she unlocks the driver’s door and slides behind the wheel. I get into the passenger side. And she’s not wrong—my legs are not digging this vehicle. Even when I push the chair back as far as it can go, there’s still no room to stretch out.
She starts the car and pulls out of the lot. “I don’t live too far from here.”
After that, she doesn’t say much for the rest of the drive. I don’t know if she’s nervous or if she regrets agreeing to hang with me, but I hope to hell it’s not the latter.
I don’t push her to talk, because I know how skittish she can be. Patience is the name of the game here, and patience with Sabrina James comes with a reward. She’s got so much passion that it’s simply a matter of helping her reach a level of comfort that allows her to let go.
When we turn onto her street, I pretend it’s the first time that I’ve ever been here. That I don’t recognize the narrow, ramshackle row houses. That I hadn’t slept in my car right over by that uneven curb the night I followed her home to make sure she got there safe.
Sabrina turns into a driveway at the side of the house, steering toward the small carport in the rear. She kills the engine and exits the car in silence.
