Page 60 of Drew
We drive into Long Beach a little before noon. Even in winter, there are people roaming the streets going between shops. It’s a clear day, and most are only wearing sweatshirts or light jackets. I’m not much of a shopper, but I wouldn’t mind getting a small trinket to remember our trip together.
When I spot an inviting shop, I ask, “Can we go there sometime this weekend?”
“Sure.” Drew grins. “Mind if we drop everything off and then come back to town? My aunt’s place is just past town on the other side. It’s within walking distance from the beach, but it’d be a hike to town.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
A few minutes later, we pull into a driveway where the most adorable house sits off to one side. The property’s lined with trees, so there’s no ocean view, but the air still smells like the beach, which is more than enough for me. The cabin, as Drew calls it, is bigger than I expect. It’s a two-story modern house, with gray wooden shingles intricately lining the sides. There are flower beds lined with seashells, and a deck wraps around one side. I can’t imagine the view at sunset from the floor-to-ceiling windows that face west. If I could live here full time, I’d do so in a heartbeat—and I haven’t even made it inside.
Once we get everything inside, I confirm my original assessment. It is simply adorable. There are hard wooden floors, a big fireplace, and cozy leather couches in the living room. An open floor plan makes the kitchen easily accessible, with a large dining room table to separate it. There’s a hallway off to one side and a wooden staircase adjacent to it. I can’t believe just the two of us are staying here. It could easily house a large family.
Drew interrupts my thoughts. “Let me put the things in the fridge, then we’ll head out. Want to head into town to walk around, then drive back up the beach? There’s an approach about a half-mile from here.”
“Sounds like a plan. Can we stop to walk along the beach? It’s such a beautiful day and even though it’s a little chilly, I can’t come to the beach and not put my toes in the sand.”
This earns me a laugh from Drew. “Sure. We can make that happen, Angel.”
Another fun fact about Drew.He may make healthy choices regularly in his food selection, but homemade fudge is his Achilles heel—especially, peanut butter fudge. When we stop in a shop known for ice cream and fudge, Drew’s eyes light up like the Fourth of July. After tasting two different kinds, he orders two bricks of plain peanut butter, while I choose peppermint.
As we’re walking past another shop on our way to the car, I spot a sweatshirt I’d love to add to my collection. Hoodies are my favorite thing to lounge in, and this gem has my name written all over it. It’s CRU’s colors, but instead of our school logo, it has Long Beach written on it. This way if I go to another one of Drew’s games, I won’t have to borrow Sydney’s all the time.
“Mind if we stop in here?” I point to the window. “Then we can head to the beach.”
When we get inside, I make a bee-line to the display by the window. The fabric is softer than it looked in the window, and I quickly remove my jacket and pull my size from the hanger to try on. It feels like heaven. Soft, cuddly but not too bulky.
“Don’t you have enough CRU colors?” Drew teases.
“No, actually. I typically borrow Syd’s. I have a sweatshirt or two, but they’re bulky, and I bought them when I was in my everything must be oversized phase, my freshman year.”
Drew’s face clouds with confusion.
So I clarify, “I went through this phase where I bought everything in extra-large. I loved going to football games and since I could layer my clothes under the sweatshirts, I always bought big. Now that I’m going to basketball games, they’re too hot and bulky to wear.”
“So… you had a thing for football players?” Drew draws out as he cocks an eyebrow in my direction.
Damn, he’s cute when he’s jealous.
Of everything I’ve said, that’s what he picks up on?
“Uh, can’t say I did. I’ve always thought jocks were a little too into themselves, and never understood why anyone would want to fawn all over them.” Drew’s eyes widen as my statement catches him off guard. But before he can say anything, I quickly point out one more thing. “I enjoy watching the game. Not necessarily the individual players.”
I expect a quick response, but instead, I’m met with silence.
Fuck. Did I say the wrong thing?
Eventually, he puts me out of my misery when he pins me with his teasing eyes. “Maybe I’ll have to loan you one of mine.”
“Uh… Drew, your jerseys would be a dress on me. I’m not sure they would have the effect I’d be going for.”
“Maybe you could wear one for just me?” He shrugs his shoulders and tries to play it off. “I’ve never had a girl wear only my jersey before. You might ruin me for all others.”
Only his jersey? As in… they’re naked underneath? Now there’s a thought.
But instead of letting my mind wander into the gutter, I bat a hand between us and brush off that thought immediately. “Oh, please… I’m sure plenty of girls have worn your number as they set their hooks in you.”
This earns me an eye roll and a loud huff to which I crack up laughing. Drew’s adorable when he’s frustrated. “They may have tried. But I was never interested… trust me. The only one I’d want wearing my jersey is you, Angel.”
Okay, then. Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I know I must change the subject before I embarrass myself. “What do you say we get something in my size, for now?” But I just can’t help myself when I suggest, “Maybe I can model your jersey for you in private some time.”
