Page 8 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

I’d wait until Hunter left then I could go over, and have a proper conversation with Taylor.

Parking my motorcycle in the garage, I removed my sunglasses and riding gloves. Instead of going through the back door, which was the normal entrance into the house, I decided to circle around and use the front door.

This would allow me to see if Hunter’s truck was still there without being too obvious. Not that I should care, but Mrs. Peterson, across the road, was a gossip, and she could make something out of nothing.

Was it nothing? If not, what was it then?

Old friends talking, and sharing laughs and memories.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Willis,” I grumbled when I turned the corner of the lawn and headed for the front porch.

The first thing I noticed was that Hunter’s black pickup truck was no longer next door. It had backed out of the driveway and was heading down the road. I saw two people sitting inside the cab and knew Taylor was with him.

“Well,” I sighed. “ I guess I’ll go over later.”

Stomping up the front steps, I unlocked the front door and went inside. I placed my sunglasses and gloves on the table in the foyer, then headed to the kitchen for a bottle of beer. I decided I’d sit out on the back deck while I waited for Taylor’s return.

Twisting the bottle cap off the beer, I dropped it on the patio table then raised the long neck to my lips and took a healthy swallow. Strolling to the edge of the deck, I leaned against the railing and took another sip of beer.

The cold refreshing drink slid down my throat, and I sighed. During the regular season, I rarely drank, and having the freedom to indulge in a few beers was heavenly. From March until October, I was on a strict diet regimen, and alcohol was a limited commodity for me.

Draining the remainder of the amber brew, I set the empty bottle on the ledge of the deck railing and placed my hands on the side of the green bottle. Turning my head, I glanced at the Miller house and wondered where Hunter and Taylor had gone so abruptly.

It didn’t matter too much. I had nowhere to be, and no one to meet. I’d forgotten how peaceful, laid-back, and slower-paced life could be. With my days filled with practices, pregame events, and then the season itself, I had little time to relax, and really enjoy life. But being back home made it come to the forefront.

I missed the lazy evenings, sitting outside with my parents before I was drafted to the league, riding shotgun alongside Hunter as we cruised the back roads, or headed to town to see who was hanging out at the Dairy-Q drive-in restaurant.

We had no set plans on any given Friday or Saturday night, but we always found something to do. We rarely caused trouble, but always had the best times.

Especially on Friday nights after the baseball games in the spring and beginning of summer, and again in the autumn after the varsity football games. Everyone would meet at what we called the Farmer’s Field, an overgrown orchard at the end of a dirt road north of town.

We had no idea who owned the property, but we didn’t care. It was a place for all of us kids to congregate, share the highlights of the game, maybe sneak a few beers from whoever could get their hands on some, and even have the pleasure of sharing a first kiss.

I know I shared my first real kiss there.

I didn’t consider the kiss under the slide in primary school with Katie Baugher my firstrealkiss. No, I thought of the one I shared with Taylor as the official first kiss that would stay in my memory forever.

We’d just arrived at the field, and Taylor was sitting in the backseat of Hunter’s old Chevy sedan behind me in the passenger seat. Hunter was driving, and when he slammed on the brakes, Taylor flew forward, banging her head on the headrest of my seat.

She cursed at her brother and got furious with him when he laughed. She kicked the back of my seat out of frustration and then pushed her way out of his car. I chuckled slightly but didn’t let her hear.

For some reason, I wanted to keep the humor out of the scenario, and not upset Taylor any more than Hunter had. Ilumbered my tall frame out of the confined area and followed Taylor across the field. She stomped across the open area, stumbling every so often on the tall weeds and overgrown bush.

I caught up to her just before she got to the bonfire, and I grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face me.

“Hey,” she tried to free herself from my grip, and I tightened my fingers. “He’s just being a jerk…”

“Well, I get tired of being tormented by him,” she stopped, and I let go of her wrist. She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring over my shoulder; where I assumed Hunter ambled across the field towards the group of kids partying and having fun at the bonfire. “He’s such a jerk.”

“We all are,” I replied, lumping all men together; more to appease Taylor’s mood than grouping men in a category of being idiots. “Forget about it, and let’s have fun.”

Taylor opened her mouth to reply, then clamped it shut and nodded.

“Agreed,” she sighed. “I’m not going to let him ruin my night.”

She spun on her heels and began traipsing towards the bonfire. I slowly followed and caught myself watching as her hips swaggered, and I was mesmerized. She was wearing a pair of cut-off denim shorts, frayed on the edges, that encased her hips and butt, and I growled.

She had on a light pink tank top, that emphasized the beginning of her summer tan, which was very form-fitting and would cause any man to become entranced by her. Her long blonde hair pulled away from her face in a high ponytail gave an admirer a glimpse of her slender neck.

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