Page 7 of Jocked Up

* * *

I drove back the next morning wondering if I was the one in the wrong here. Everybody was basically telling me to give Drake a chance. Dad was keeping Peter for a couple of weeks, wanting to teach the boy to fish and how to live off of the land. I was grateful for the break; it gave me time to work all of this out, somehow.

Out of pure idle curiosity, I drove out of my way to ride by Drake’s house. I wanted to see how it looked now with someone living in it. Alright, it was a combination of that and I was curious about Drake, what would he do with the house? How would he renovate it? If I had to start giving him a chance, like my father was implying, then I wanted to see what I was getting myself into. Would he bring in ostentatious decorations, something that might look good in LA but would look garish here?

I tried not to look as though I was looking at the house as I drove up to that part of the street. It sat at the end of a lane, the house stood alone, with a lot of land between it and the next house. The paint needed doing and I could see that men were already setting up to get that done. The old white paint on the structure was starting to peel off in strips and the grain of the wood was showing through in quite a few places.

It was my dream home and he’d bought it. Sighing, I went to turn around at the end of the lane and gasped when Drake walked out of the house and waved. I knew I must have looked horrified but I smiled a fake smile and waved back. Then he motioned for me to pull into the driveway. Shit!

I knew I was caught and this was the first step to a new Bethany. The one that gave Drake a chance. Bracing myself, I pulled into the driveway and stepped out of the car. Dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white blouse with tan sandals on my feet I knew I didn’t look bad. I was grateful for that much, at least. I hadn’t put on any makeup at all, though, and wondered if he thought I looked like a ghost.

I gave a tentative smile as he walked up to me, his own khaki shorts and grey tank top making my pulse race. The man certainly had a beautiful body. His grey eyes were smiling as he walked over and looked back at the house.

“Not much yet, is it?” He asked, bending down to adjust a strap on his brace. “I had to hire someone to come do the painting outside; I just won’t be able to climb up and down a ladder to do it.”

“The house is beautiful and always has been. Unless you’re going to do something crazy like paint it purple and red, there’s little you can do that would take away from the beauty of it.” I stared up at the house wistfully, wishing it was mine once more.

“No, I think a nice new coat of white, maybe some darker shades for the trim, but a nice normal color will work just fine.” He said with a laugh. Then he turned serious for a moment. “Bethany?”

Turning to him I felt a flutter in my stomach as he looked at me, all serious and indecisive. Then he made up his mind.

“Won’t you give me another chance? I know I came off like a jerk the last time but if you give me a chance I swear I’ll make it up to you. Let me take you and Peter out to dinner tonight. To somewhere normal.” He ended with a laugh that made me smile in return.

“Peter’s with his grandfather this evening, but you can take me out if you’d like?” The words were out before I could stop them and he must have guessed that because he looked shocked for a moment. He’d been expecting rejection. Oh my!

“Great!” He said when he recovered. “Is six alright? Anywhere in particular you want to go?”

“Yeah, I know a place. It’s mainly for grownups but some families come in. Just your average Louisiana restaurant but they make the best crawfish etouffee. You might want to wear some stretch pants.” I laughed as I started to back away, wanting to get home now. I didn’t know where this night was going to lead but I needed to be prepared for anything.

I’d made up my mind, I was going to give him a chance. That decision seemed to have driven my hormones nuts because I was about to go home and prepare for any eventuality. Any.

“I’ll see you then. You want me to come pick you up or do you want to meet me here?” Oh, his whole tune had changed now, I liked this Drake.

“You can pick me up. I’ll see you at 6.” I gave a little wave, then got back into the car, smiling happily. Time for battle.

* * *

By the time I’d created a presentable image my nerves were shot. I was starving, tired, and ready to cry into my pillow. But that would mess up the eye makeup it had taken me an hour to perfect on both eyes. Staring into the mirror, my brown eyes rimmed with black eyeliner and shimmery shadows I thought I might draw a few heads tonight. I didn’t look quite like the clown I thought I did, and the figure hugging dark brown dress that billowed out at my knees was perfect.

The dress had been hanging in my closet for years now, bought at a clearance sale and often taken out but always put back without being worn. The deep V in the front was too revealing, I was too fluffy to wear it in public; I always had an excuse to put it back. But now was the right time, that perfect moment. I strapped a pair of brown sandals to my feet and went to sit in the living room.

My nerves started to tense again as I waited, wondering how I’d goof up the night. I’d never actually been on a date, not like this anyway. Out for a pizza in college or to the movies with friends, but never really a date. Not even with Peter’s father. I reminded myself I taught French Immersion at school, a difficult class that required discipline and strength. I had lovely manners, everyone said so, and I knew how to hold a conversation. Drake is the one that should be panicking here, not me!

I told myself that until I caught a glimpse of my hair in the mirror. It wasn’t that lovely warm golden honey blonde men seem to go for now, it was so pale it was almost white with a few darker shades blended into the mix naturally. Maybe I should have it colored, warmed the toned up? Then I’d look more like those Hollywood women that Drake likely dates.

That wasn’t going to work though and just about the time I’d decided to call the whole thing off because I was making myself crazy, Drake showed up. I was almost grateful to hear the sound of his truck pulling up to the house. I escaped the quiet but familiar environment and went outside to climb into the truck. He’d been getting out to help me in but I didn’t wait, I needed out of the place.

“Hi. Ready to go?” I looked over at the man now blinking in his seat again, a smile stretching across my face at his confusion.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I gave directions and Drake eased out of the driveway, one of my favorite country songs easing the tension as he drove.

I’d left my hair down so I was grateful he had the air conditioning on but the radio left little room for talking. That was fine with me, music always calmed me anyway.

I snuck little glances at him as he drove, the way his jeans hugged his thighs was inviting, making me want to run my hand along that seam. He had a very muscular body, I could tell that through his clothes. I wasn’t the most in-shape person but I kept fit enough, even if I did sometimes get on the fluffy side around my middle. My pulse started beating in my veins when a rather sultry number came on, the deep male voice singing about how he wanted to treat his woman to a night of passion one more time, giving me even more ideas. I stole a glance at the bulge nestled at the top of his thighs and instantly felt him between my legs, sliding into me.

I’ve never been able to shake loose that memory and now an ache had started deep inside of me. I pushed it away as he pulled into the parking lot and we walked into the place. The waitress took us to a dark corner, her eyes lighting up when she saw Drake. Eat your heart out girl! This one is mine.

Over dinner, we discussed what the future might hold for us and as one pitcher of beer turned into two our conversation became more light-hearted. Drake only had two glasses so I was well on my way to giggle-town as we discussed our memories from the past. It was when he brought up my graduation night, how proud Dad had been and how he’d told the principal to shove it when the man told him to quiet down his clapping and cheering that things turned.