Page 50 of Undressed In The Crease

Did he not see what just happened?

“That was better. This time hold on tighter.” He grins and motions for me to try again.

Reluctantly, I take the club from him. “You’re sure this is a good idea?”

Looking back over my shoulder, I glare at him laughing at me.

“I’m going to stand back. You got this.” He hands me a new ball and steps back as far as he can go. “Visualize. Who is this one?”

I take a deep breath and stare at the ball on the tee.

“This one is Dustin.” I grit my teeth, feeling the anger rising inside me. “For pushing me back when my work threatened him.”

Again, I feel the pop as the club makes contact with the ball, but this time I hold on tight. The ball doesn’t go very far, but I did it.

The feeling is so good. Like the ball was a pent-up part of the tension I’ve been keeping inside and with one swing and apop,it’s gone. Out in the world on the green and will never come back.

“Yeah!” Nick yells out and I jump up.

“I did it!” The excitement overcame me as I jumped on top of him and gave him a big hug.

He lets go quickly, pushing me back, and walks to his area.

That was awkward.

There is a line drawn here as if to saynot tonight.Nope, this is not a date.

“See, easy, right?” He sets up his next shot. “This one is Dustin calling me a playboy my freshman year in one of his breakout articles.”

Again, he hits the ball perfectly.

“I remember that one.” I laugh.

I set up another ball, and line it up.

“This is Lydia for making me clean the toilets in the house.” I’m trying to think of anyone who’s done me wrong.

“Don’t you have pledges for that?” Nick laughs at me.

I roll my eyes at him. We don’t get many pledges and none are put through any type of hazing like other groups.

We continue hitting balls without naming them. Just hitting them is soothing. I’m enjoying watching Nick more than I should be.

He notices it.

“Do you ever miss?” I ask, trying to detract from the fact I was checking him out rather than watching his form and technique.

“I’ve been doing it awhile,” he responds, kicking over another ball on the tee with his club.

I don’t think my question hides my thoughts well enough.

I know this isn’t a date. Not that I’m not having fun, but he practically forced me here.

“So, just to be clear on where we stand, I’d like to be friends.” He eyes me while bent over his club.

I nod and go back to hitting balls from my area.

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.” I agree.

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