Page 40 of Fake Dates and Home Plates
He nods. “We did. We talked a little in between your groans of drunk agony. It was the first time I think I realized you weren’t just the party girl who could run fast that everyone thought you were.”
That makes me smile. “Why didn’t you ask me out?”
Theo shrugs. “The rumor was that you didn’t date, and definitely not anyone from our school. Plus, your dad texted you saying he was outside to take you home.”
My parents didn’t encourage drinking at all. In fact, every weekend, they would tell me horror stories about alcohol poisoning and substance abuse, but every one of those lectures ended with them insisting if I was planning to drink that night, they’d come pick me up. They didn’t want me to drive or get in the car with anyone else.
At most parties, I had a couple of drinks and then sipped water. That night was the first and only time I tried to test my limits, especially since I take months off from drinking and can’t build a real tolerance.
I sigh. “It was for the best. That Henley wasn’t ready for you, Baseball Boy.”
“What about this Henley?” he asks as he kisses me again. “Is she ready for me?”
“She wants to be,” I answer honestly.
Theo steps back and checks his phone before he grabs his mask. “That’s my signal that the coast is clear and to head back to the car.”
I instantly miss the way it feels to have my thighs resting on his hips. Hopping off the counter, I walk him to the door.
He kisses me one last time. “Goodnight, Getaway Girl.”
“Sleep tight, you criminal.”
Chapter Seventeen
Theo
Walking into the building with Henley’s hand in mine, I glance over at her, already grinning. “You ready to get a little dangerous tonight?”
Dressed in a black skirt and crop top paired with a denim jacket and pink high-tops, she looks as incredible as always. Still though, the morning she woke up in one of my shirts will be my favorite look she’s ever worn.
She snorts. “You’ve changed, Theo Barlowe. First, you commit a crime, and now, you’re trying to rope me into your life of delinquency.”
I bump her hip gently with mine. “You didn’t seem too upset about that particular felony.”
She arches a brow. “That’s because I didn’t do it. I was just an accessory after the fact.”
I lean closer. “Didn’t seem too put off with my criminal ways when you were trying to grind against me afterwards.”
Henley’s mouth drops open in shock before she throws her head back, laughing. “Not put off by you in the slightest.”
I’m not sure what Henley expected for our first real date, but I doubt she could have guessed what I have planned.
“I figured dinner was too boring, and I wanted to see if you had any throwing skills,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant when really, I’m watching her take it all in. The wooden walls, thethunkof axes hitting targets, the faint smell of beer in the air.
Maybe I should have taken her to a restaurant for an expensive dinner, but when I glance back at her and see the gleam in her eyes, I know I made the right call.
One minute, we’re signing a waiver and placing an order for a couple of sodas and a basket of chicken wings. The next, Henley’s holding a literal weapon and smiling so big, it looks like she’s about to enjoy taking someone out.
She smirks. “You’re about to regret this, Baseball Boy.”
Thirty minutes later, I don’t regret a thing.
Henley’s been trash-talking me even though she’s losing, having missed most of her throws. “Alright, I hope you didn’t get too comfortable in the lead. I’m about to knock you right off the board.”
She doesn’t. In fact, that might have been her worst attempt all night.
“You know you’re allowed to hitinsidethe wood, right?” I tease, tossing an axe that lands with a satisfying thud just left of the bullseye.
