Summer Fling (Players of Marycliff University Book 1) (4 page)

Lance broke in, needing to put a stop to where this was going. "Mom! No matchmaking."

"But, Lance—"

"I mean it, Mom. I don't want to be set up with anyone. Especially not the week I get back. Stop."

"I just want you to be happy."

"Running a bunch of random girls at me isn't the way to do it. I can find plenty of dates on my own."

"But you haven't dated in months!"

"Yes, I have. I go on plenty of dates."

"But every week I ask about girls and you tell me there's no one. Now you're telling me you go on dates all the time? Both things can't be true."

"No, you ask if there are any interesting girls or special girls. I don't usually go out with anyone more than once or twice." He cringed when he realized he'd just said that to his mom.

"Why are you going out with them if you don't find them interesting or special?" Disapproval was seeping into her voice.

"Because I like taking out girls for a night of fun. Just because I take a girl to dinner or something doesn't mean I want a relationship with her. And I'm not going to get your hopes up by telling you about some girl I don't plan on seeing again."

Silence. "Lance Jonathan Kane, you better be treating those young ladies well."

"Yes, ma'am. I am. I hold open their doors and act like a gentleman. I don't lead them on or trifle with their affections."

She sniffed. "Good. If I find out otherwise, you'll have me to answer to."

Lance couldn't help but smile. "Yes, ma'am."
 

His mom was a stickler for gentlemanly behavior. She'd smack him upside the head the next time she saw him if she heard about what happened with Abby last night. Sure, he'd held all the doors for her. But staring at her boobs through her wet shirt and not taking her home right away would be grounds for smacking according to Elizabeth Kane. No son of hers would act that way and get away with it. Opening doors for ladies was expected. It didn't make up for poor behavior.
 

After hanging up with his mom, Lance couldn't help but think about what he'd told her about the girls he saw. It was true, mostly. There'd been a couple he'd seen more than twice, but it had been quite a while. He liked pretty girls, and he liked flirting. He even liked what came after the flirting, but he hadn't liked any of those girls enough to really get to know them. They hadn't done anything to capture his interest beyond the physical.

Until Abby.

Abby intrigued him. She was pretty and snarky and didn't take any shit from him. He liked that about her. And she clammed up when he tried to get to know her better. Most of the girls he went out with could barely stop talking about themselves. He was always polite and let them talk, even if he didn't care about whatever they were prattling on about. With Abby the opposite had happened. He'd found himself talking more than she had.
 

Maybe it was just that she was a challenge. Whatever it was, Lance was determined to find out more. He wanted to know what made her tick, why she'd ignored his question about going to school close to home. There was something there, and he wanted to know what it was. He'd let it go last night because he hadn't wanted to push too hard too soon. He didn't want to scare her off, and he'd already pushed his luck.

And then she'd run away when he'd been about to kiss her. He hadn't planned on trying to take it further than a goodnight kiss. But he'd wanted to see if she still tasted like the chocolate pie she'd eaten. What that sassy mouth felt like pressed against his.
 

Just as soon as her shirt was clean, he'd text her and make a plan to get together with her again. This time he'd get her to open up more. And this time he'd get that kiss.

* * *

Abby was lying in bed reading a book when her text alert went off. She'd been watching a movie in the living room, but Megan had a hangover and whined about the noise.
 

Abby fumbled in the blankets until she found her phone. She pushed the button and wrinkled her brows in confusion when she saw the text. It was from a phone number she didn't recognize, not someone saved in her contacts. All it said was, "I have bad news."
 

Panic fluttered in her belly as she slid her thumb across the screen to unlock the phone. Maybe something had happened to her mom and someone was trying to get ahold of her. Or it could be her brother. She hadn't heard from him in a while and he could have gotten a new number.
 

When she opened the text she smiled. It was Lance. She hadn't bothered saving his number, barely glancing at the text he'd sent her. It said, "If I don't hear from you by 2:00 pm, you'll hear from me." She glanced at the time—it was a little after three. Well, he was keeping his word.
 

What kind of bad news?
she texted back.

I think I need to tell you in person. You busy?

Not really. Should I be worried?

Okay, I'll come pick you up.

No, I'll meet you somewhere. Answer my question.

It'll be easier if I come get you. See you in 20.

Abby grunted, slightly irritated, a little worried, but mostly curious. She didn't like being railroaded, and wasn't happy that Lance wouldn't agree to meet somewhere. She could just leave and stand him up, but then he'd bang on the door and that would piss off Megan. And then she'd have to hear Megan's opinion about Lance when she got back. She could guess what Megan would have to say, and wasn't really in the mood to listen to her best friend and roommate's dirty thoughts about a hot guy. If she were really honest with herself, she was looking forward to seeing him again more than she was annoyed with him. Crap.
 

Abby looked down at the oversized t-shirt with her high school's name on it that she wore to sleep in and realized she needed to change. Now. She started for her closet and stopped. What should she wear to meet the guy she had a kind of date with last night?
Screw it
, she thought.
I'm not going to dress up for the bossy guy who took me out in his old Superman t-shirt.
She grabbed a t-shirt out of her clean laundry basket and threw it on with a pair of denim shorts. Sliding her feet into her flip flops, she stuffed her phone and keys into her bag and headed for the front door.
 

A voice groaned from a pile of blankets on the couch. "What are you doing?"
 

Abby laughed. "I'm meeting a friend. I'll be back later."

Megan's head popped out from under her green fuzzy blanket. She swiped the tangled mess of brown curls out of her eyes. "Don't laugh at my pain. What friend?"

Abby walked to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. "Just a friend. I'll fill you in later when your head feels better." She handed Megan the glass.

"Okay, fine, don't tell me." Megan gulped down half the glass. "I'm going out with Isaac tonight, so if you're gone too long I might not be here."

"Okay. Have fun with Isaac. I'm not sure how long I'll be gone."

"If you get back in time you can come with us. We're going to a party one of his friends is having. It should be fun."

Abby shook her head. "Another party? No thanks, Megan. Even if I get home in time I don't think I'll go with you." Abby quirked an eyebrow at her roommate. "And if you party like you did last night you better hydrate now." Megan obediently drank more water.

"Okay, fine. Stay home and be boring. I'll catch you later."

Abby laughed. "I will and I'll love it. Boring is my middle name. Bye."

Megan finished her water and slumped back down, waving as Abby closed the door. On the surface, their friendship seemed so unlikely. Megan was outgoing and always had to be doing something, while Abby was content to stay home by herself and read a book or watch a movie. But they'd been friends since high school. Megan had been there for Abby when her brother took off and left Abby responsible for their mom.

Abby sat on the steps leading to the apartment above hers to wait for Lance. Since Megan was in the living room, she definitely didn't want him to knock on the door. She'd tell Megan about Lance later. First she needed to figure out what he wanted and what he thought was going on between them.
 

Lance's car rumbled into the parking lot, pulling Abby's attention from the game she played on her phone while she waited. She stood, brushing dust off the seat of her shorts as he parked in front of her building.

Lance got out of his car and started toward her. "Why are you out here?"
 

Abby walked toward the passenger door. "My roommate has a hangover and I didn't want to hear her whine about you knocking on the door."

Lance nodded and blocked her access to the door's handle so he could open it for her. So weird. He looked her up and down as she started getting into the car. His lips quirked up in a smile. "Nice shirt."

She looked down at the shirt she'd grabbed. It was gray and had a picture of a planet. Around the planet it said, "Pluto. Never forget."

"Thanks." Abby waited for Lance to get settled into the driver's seat. "So, what's the bad news?"

Lance took his hand off the gear shift and looked at her, guilt all over his face. "Um, well…I found your shirt in my bathroom where you left it last night." Pause.

"Okay. And?"

"So, I saw that it was stained, you know, from the drink that spilled on both of us." He was turned toward her, but was looking out the window over her shoulder, refusing to make eye contact.
 

Abby waited.
 

He blew out a breath and then turned and reached into the back seat. He dropped a plastic grocery sack in her lap. It was tied closed by the handles. Abby kept looking at him, waiting for him to finish. He just stared at the grocery sack.

"Well, I needed to do some laundry and I decided to wash your shirt for you."

"You didn't have to do that, but thanks. That was nice of you."

Lance grimaced and gestured toward the sack in her lap. "You might not thank me once you look in there." He turned back toward the steering wheel and put the car in reverse. While he backed out of the parking spot and started toward the street, Abby untied the handles, not quite sure what she'd find in the bag. There was some sort of fabric inside. She reached in and pulled out a tank top. It was a dingy grayish purple color and there was a darker splotch on the front.

"Why are you giving me this?"

Lance hunched his shoulders. "It's your shirt."

Abby turned and looked at him, the shirt crumpled in her lap. "What?"

"I washed your shirt with my clothes, and it came out looking like…that." He flicked a hand in the direction of her lap.
 

"How . . . ? Wha . . . ?" Abby stopped to collect her thoughts. "The shirt I wore last night was pink. And big enough to fit me. This is grayish purple and way too small for me. What did you do to my shirt?"

"I just washed it. I had a new shirt in the wash, and I guess it bled or something."

"Did you use cold water?"

"What?"

"Did you use the cold water setting on the washer?"

Lance looked at her like she was crazy. "No! I always use hot water. My mom says that's the best way to get out stains. It was stained and I was trying to wash it for you."

Abby sighed, shaking her head. "Lance, you can't wash new clothes on hot. Of course they'll bleed. Haven't you noticed that before?"

He seemed to think over her words for a moment. There was a wry edge to his voice when he finally spoke. "I don't exactly wear a lot of pastels. No, I haven't noticed it before. The rest of my clothes looked fine."

"And I assume you put it in the dryer on high heat, too?"

"Of course!"

Abby sighed again. "Well, um, thanks for trying? I don't really know what to say." She looked up and realized they were driving somewhere. "Uh, where are we going?"

"To the mall. I'm going to buy you a new shirt."
 

"What? No. You don't need to buy me a shirt." Abby wasn't comfortable with this. She barely knew this guy and didn't want him buying things for her. It was bad enough he paid for her pie last night.

"Yes, I do. I completely destroyed your shirt. I might not know how to wash a girl's shirt, but I'm smart enough to realize that it's completely unwearable. It's the wrong color, doesn't fit, and the damn stain didn't even come out. I'm buying you a new one."

The vehemence in his tone surprised Abby. Maybe she should let Lance buy her a new shirt. He obviously felt bad for destroying her shirt. She'd just gotten it a couple weeks ago, and it was one of the only dressy summer tops she owned. Correction—it used to be one of the only dressy summer tops she owned. Not anymore.
 

"Okay. You can buy me a new shirt."

Lance nodded. "Good. I will. Which store do you want to go to?"
 

Abby looked up and saw they were about to turn into the mall's parking lot. "I'm not sure. Just park at the main entrance and we can go from there."

CHAPTER FOUR

Lance quickly stepped ahead of Abby so he could grab the door to the mall. She gave him a funny look, but walked in. She'd opened the inner door before he could get there, but he put his hand above hers and held it while she went through. He kept having to work harder than normal to beat her to the door. It was like she didn't want him to open doors for her. But his mom had raised him to be a gentleman, and that meant holding doors for ladies. He even did it for the annoying chicks that flirted with him, all twirling hair and flashing cleavage. He was always polite to them, but he never went out with girls that flirted too hard. Flirting should be light, fun, not pushy.

He liked girls that bantered. That were smart and funny as well as pretty. That didn't just try to trade on their looks. Girls like Abby.

He was relieved that she'd agreed to let him replace her shirt. He'd felt like a complete ass when he'd taken the laundry out of the dryer and saw what had happened to it. He'd just tossed everything into the dryer without looking at it, so he hadn't realized anything bad was happening to the shirt until it was way, way too late.