I can handle that.
“Okay.”
“Can I call you later if it’s not too late?”
“I’ll be here with my baking show.”
“Talk later, bestie.”
Chapter 41
Miriam
When Antonio said he wanted to take me out, rugby practice wasn’t on my list. It wasn’t anywhere near the vicinity of what I imagined our first date would be. He said his penis wouldn’t be involved, but he failed to mention the rest of his body being on full display—or the testosterone soaking into the atmosphere.
My hands clench, and my nails dig into my palms at the heavy hit. A player falls to the ground, cradling the ball. He extends his arms to two approaching teammates who have red mesh jerseys over their compression shirts. Both are tall, loaded with muscles, and surely dedicated to counting macros and bench-pressing twice my weight in the gym.
Antonio sprints from the other side of the artificial turf and rams into both men like they’re crash test dummies. His shoulders are low, and every back and leg muscle is teasing my thighs to start a fire by rubbing them together.
Arson is a stretch, but splitting holes in my control-top tights is imminent.
“Jinkies,” I mutter, out of breath from witnessing the force of his body disrupt motion.
Antonio peels out the ball with his cleats, and another player grabs it and speeds off to the try zone. The man is a tank, forcing turnovers and knocking people down like bowling pins. How he maintains the stamina to pop up after tackles and run into players again defies logic. No amount of money or love of the game would possess my body to plow into a grown human at full force—witha smile.
A whistle blows. Antonio skips to the sideline through a procession of back pats. His eyes land on me in the corner, where I put myself to stay out of the way. I don’t need the attention, and I certainly don’t need anyone questioning if I’m having hot flashes because of the tiny shorts littering the AstroTurf.
My God.
He winks before walking off with a man holding a clipboard. To his credit, he’s kept our date casual, with minimal chances to reexamine the strength of my kitchen table.
Our first date.
It still takes a minute to process that we’re doing this, investigating an “us” outside of our friendship. I was nervous getting ready, but reality told my assumptions to have several seats once his car rolled up my driveway. Some nerves were still fluttering in my stomach, but most had subsided due to the safety already embedded between us.
I know him.
I’ve known him.
We met on my front porch, at Antonio’s request, where I got a firm handshake and a pack of Twizzlers in lieu of flowers. I fell out laughing once I realized he was serious and taking no chances. But all cackling ceased when his hug wrapped me in his tobacco and cedar cologne. My toes curled, and my bodyvibrated from his nearness after so much time apart. I got a kiss on the nose and have been in this foldable chair next to the equipment locker ever since.
Only God’s strongest soldiers are immune to thick thighs and good intentions. I’m not ashamed to admit the dizzy spells I get from his grunts and the way his teeth sink into his lip when he pistons into another player.
The Steel have a reduced practice schedule to reflect their bye week. Where we’ll go after this remains a mystery. A few of his teammates are hinting at, and I quote, “an evening of charity and questions.” The black turtleneck and gray skirt I dug up were the best I could do with little to no information about tonight. If it involves an auction of any kind, I’ll personally tackle Antonio myself or end up in somebody’s hospital bed trying.
My phone beeps.
Antonio
Hopping in the shower. Will be ready in ten. You look really pretty BTW.
Thank you. Do I get a hint about where we’re going?
Antonio
Nope.
I snort at his response and shake my head with a promise to kill him later. The fact that I’m still calm and not hyperventilating over the fear of the unknown is a testament to my level of comfort with him. I trust him to keep me safe. But there better not be any snow or nudity involved. I do have limits.
