Hearts in Overtime: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (19 page)

“Likewise, sir.” I giggled and skipped along the sidewalk, feeling happy and oh so warm under the glow of the morning sun. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to get started on your bedroom. Specifically, I’d like to purchase a bed for you at the earliest possible convenience.”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” he said.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

Sliding my feet into my most comfortable two-inch black pumps, I walked back into the living room for the verdict. Lara had her phone out and she was staring down at it.

“Hang on a sec,” she said, her fingers dancing across the screen. When she looked up, her face contorted into a grimace and she released a weary groan. “You can’t be serious.”

“You don’t like it?” I asked, disappointed. I really thought she would approve.

My dress was made with crushed black velvet with a sparkly trim across the neckline. It came with a matching jacket (which was a godsend as the dress was sleeveless) and the hem hit just below the knee. When I spotted it on the rack at Macy’s I was thrilled. It was not often that I found a dress (or anything, really) that was stylish
and
comfortable
and
actually fit me. As soon as I zipped it up in the dressing room, I’d already decided to purchase it.

Lara set her phone down and stood up to take a closer look.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, Susan. It’s a pretty dress, but it’s a bit ‘mother of the bride’ don’t you think? And it doesn’t do a thing for your figure.”

“Au contraire, my friend.” I grinned. “It disguises my figure, that’s what it does. That’s why I bought it.”

She just shook her head. “First of all, it drives me absolutely bonkers that you feel like you have to disguise your figure. You’re so lovely, and so sexy, and I wish you could see that, but we’ve already beaten that conversation to death, so I’ll let it go. For now. Second of all, you may think this dress is disguising your figure, but it really isn’t.”

“Sure it is. The way it’s fitted up top and loose down below gives the illusion that I’ve got a smaller derriere. Plus, black is slimming.”

Lara reached down to gather the fabric around my waist and pulled it tight.

“If the waist were a few inches lower, then this dress would have a nice, flattering shape, but as it is, it makes you look pregnant.”

“No!” I gasped.

“I’m afraid so. How many times have I told you to stay away from empire waists, Susan? And this jacket only makes things worse.”

“What are you talking about? The jacket is my favorite part!”

“It makes you look frumpy. It’s like do you want to instantly add ten years to your age? Just pile a black velvet jacket on top of your black velvet empire waist dress and presto: you’re nearly forty. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

I stood there speechless as she pulled the jacket off to expose my pale, flabby arms.

“Now, this is an improvement, but you still can’t wear this dress. In fact, you can’t keep it. I’m glad to see the tags are still attached.”

Talk about bossy. Lara was a good friend—the best—but there were times that I wished she’d mind her own business. I, for one, liked my new dress (as well as the matching jacket) and I still intended to wear it to my ten-year high school reunion the following night. It’s not like I had a closet full of flattering dresses to choose from. Most of the space in there was taken up by clothes from my thinner days that I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of.

“What do you propose I do?” I asked. “The reunion is tomorrow, Lara, and I’ve got loads of things to do, not to mention a long drive ahead of me. I don’t have time to try to find another dress. It took me long enough to find this one.”

“Wear your black cherry print dress.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Why would I kid about that? Hands down, that’s my favorite dress of yours. It’s cute, fun and quirky, just like you are. Not to mention the fact that it nips in at the natural waist, emphasizing your curvy figure, and that plunging neckline showcases your knockers in the most traffic-stopping way ever. It’s perfect. I can’t believe it didn’t occur to you to wear it.”

Hmm. Well, the truth is it
did
occur to me to wear it. Lara was right. It was both my cutest and my most flattering dress. But it was just so form-fitting and revealing! I hadn’t seen most of my classmates in the ten years that had passed since graduation, and the sight of me (fifty pounds heavier than I was as a teen) was going to be enough of a shock for everyone. I wanted to blend in as much as possible, not strut in there looking like some plus sized sex kitten.

“Just try it on,” Lara suggested. “Then we can play around with accessories and see if we can find a happy medium between busty babe and frumpy matron.”

“Well, that does sound like fun.” I laughed and headed back into my bedroom to change into the 50’s style dress with the swingy skirt.

“So much better,” Lara said a couple of minutes later when I gave her the all clear to come join me in the bedroom. She opened the top drawer of my dresser and started rummaging through it. “Now, let’s see. Where’s that pretty red shawl of yours?”

After trying a few different options, we both agreed that I should go with my black angora shrug. It looked great with the black cherry print dress, it covered up my upper arms
and
when it was buttoned, it covered up at least half of my cleavage, which seemed reasonable. With Lara’s help, I chose my jewelry—my faux rhinestone studs and a long necklace with jet black beads—and I finally surrendered and decided to wear the red satin peep-toe slingbacks she’d been championing all night. She was right; my basic black pumps were pretty dull.

Once we had the wardrobe all figured out, I changed back into my tee shirt and yoga pants and joined Lara back in the living room. She topped up both our glasses from the bottle of zinfandel on the coffee table, and then she held up her glass for a toast.

“Here’s to the greatest love story ever told, mere hours from unfolding,” she said with a grin.

“Ack! Don’t say that!” I couldn’t bring myself to clink her glass. “You’re out of your mind if you think anything’s going to happen with Ben Forsythe and me. There’s no way.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Lara giggled. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said she was already tipsy. “I love how you call him ‘Ben.’ Now, would you please tell me the story about how it all happened again? Please?”

“Okay,” I relented. It wasn’t hard to convince me because I loved telling this story.

“Ben and I first got to know each other when we both joined the debate team freshman year,” I began. “He always brought up the most interesting points that I never would have thought of. Such an out-of-the-box thinker, even back then. I remember one point he made during a debate about whether or not renewable forms of energy should be subsidized by the government…”

“Sorry to interrupt, Susan, but could we have the visuals to go along with this?”

“Sure.” I walked over to the bookshelf, selected my senior yearbook and handed it to Lara before I reclaimed my seat on the sofa next to her. “We’d chat sometimes before or after club meetings, and we’d say hi when we saw each other in the halls, but we weren’t really friends or anything.”

Lara had the yearbook open to Ben’s senior picture. He was such a gaunt, gangly thing back then! The thick glasses didn’t do much for his looks, and it was pretty obvious that he was getting haircuts at home courtesy of his mom. Who ever would have thought that he’d blossom into one of the hottest tech entrepreneurs in the country? Contact lenses, a decent haircut and what I imagine must have been a
lot
of hours at the gym transformed sweet, nerdy Ben into Benjamin Forsythe, bona fide stud muffin. I’d seen him featured on so many 30 under 30 lists, I’d lost count. There was “30 brightest shooting stars under 30,” “30 innovative minds under 30” and “30 sexiest scientists under 30,” just to name a few.

“And then one night in August…” Lara prompted.

“And then one night in August, just a week before I was scheduled to leave for college, Ben and I were both at Kelly Mackey’s house party. Ben was flying out the very next day for MIT. Kelly was on the debate team with us, but she had tons of friends all across the high school social stratum—theatre geeks, football players, vegan environmentalists, you name it. Ben and the other debate nerds and I rarely were invited to these things, so we all kind of clustered together in the den. Somehow Kelly had managed to get a keg—to this day, I have absolutely no idea how she pulled that off—so we were all drinking beer, and we weren’t exactly nursing it.”

Lara laughed. “It’s so funny to imagine Benjamin Forsythe at a teenage keg party.”

I smiled and continued. “Our little group gradually started to break off into smaller factions, and Ben and I spent the whole night together, talking about everything from our high school experiences to everything we dreamed of accomplishing and a million other things as well.”

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my heart ached a little as I wondered what could have been. Oh, if only I knew what he was thinking all those years… If only I could have a do-over… My high school experience might have been a whole lot different, and so might the ten years that have passed since graduation.

“So, after a while, I started seeing Ben—really
seeing
him for the amazing guy he was,” I said. “I always knew he was a nice guy and everything, but he was just so damn smart. I never really saw him as an ordinary human being with ordinary human emotions before that night.”

“Aw,” Lara murmured.

“We gradually moved closer to each other. And I mean
really
gradually, like I didn’t even realize it was happening until we were all cozied up together.”

I stopped to play back the scene in my mind, like the video of my all-time favorite movie. I’d seen it a million times and I knew exactly how it went.

“And then he took your hand,” Lara gently prodded.

“And the he took my hand,” I said. “And he told me he’d been carrying a torch for me since freshman year. And he said he hated that he’d never had the courage to tell me before, and now he was leaving for Boston in just a few hours and it was too late. And I told him it wasn’t too late. I said we had a few hours left together, and we should make the most of it.”

“And he leaned in to kiss you,” she said.

I nodded. “And he leaned in to kiss me… and that was exactly when his sister showed up.”

With a sigh, I relieved the memory in my mind.

“Ben!” his sister, Sarah, had shrieked from across the room. Dodging party people, she made her way over to us, and Ben let go of my hand before she could see. “Mom and Dad are freaking out. You have to come home now. They’re all paranoid about you getting cold feet and not getting on the plane tomorrow.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “I’m just enjoying my last night in town before I go.”

“Whatever. You still have to come. Why should I have to deal with them when you’re the one they’re freaking out about?”

Ben looked torn. He glanced down at his watch and then back up at me. “I’m sorry, Suz, but I really should go. I’ve got an early morning flight. Actually, we’re taking off less than eight hours from now, and I still have some last minute packing to do. And it sounds like I’ve got some damage control to do in terms of the ‘rents.”

“That’s okay, Ben. I understand.” I gave him my best attempt at a genuine smile, even though my heart was breaking, having had the most romantic moment of my entire life brutally yanked from me.

He gazed at me with a sad smile, and I felt my heart lurch. How could I not have noticed the sweet, romantic and very cute guy who was under my nose for four years until it was too late? It was just so unfair.

“Would you come
on
?” Sarah said, yanking his arm and dragging him away from me.

Ben mouthed the word “sorry” at me, and blew me a kiss as he was hauled out of the party. And that was the last time I ever saw him. A few months later, my parents moved to Toledo, so I didn’t even get to see him over holidays and breaks.

“Such a tragedy,” Lara murmured, bringing me back to the present. “But never mind that. Once he sees you tomorrow night and all your sexy, sassy fabulousness, he’ll be dying to pick up where you guys left off.”

“Don’t say that!” I shrieked. “I’m nervous enough about seeing him as it is, okay?”

“All right, all right. I won’t say another word about it.” She mimed zipping her lip, but the playful look in her eyes spoke volumes.

I turned and did everything I could to banish the idea of starting anything up with Ben Forsythe from my mind. It sounded wonderful, of course. It sounded like romantic bliss, like a dream come true. But that’s the thing about dreams. They’re not real.

I could dream about him all I wanted, but Ben and I would never be anything more than just friends. I wasn’t being cynical; I was simply being a realist. I mean, come on. How many “30 under 30” guys, known for their bods as much as their brilliance, do
you
know of who have plus-sized girlfriends?

* * * *

In one of those moments of pure synchronicity, “Let’s Get it Started” by the Black Eyed Peas was playing overhead as I arrived at the reunion.

“Hi there!” said Kelly Mackey who (of course) was manning the reception table, welcoming all newcomers and supplying everyone with blank nametags and Sharpies.