10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Charlotte

Ginger is always up for a ride, so when I leash her up and let her leap into my car, she's excited. Andrew's house isn't far from mine, about twenty minutes south, but it's in a much more affluent neighborhood. He gave me the gate code, so I smash it into the keypad and wait for the gate to slowly creak open.

Just past the entrance, a right turn leads to a community pool, tennis courts, and a gym. The sign out front shows the dog park is ahead and at the next right. I follow it around a curve where the houses get larger and larger until it dead ends in a cul-de-sac. Clearly, I have made a mistake. After turning around, I head back to the front entrance and try again.

Ginger whines and moves from side to side in the back of my car, anxious to get out and stretch her legs. I almost pass the road again—a single lane entrance to a fenced field filled with doggie exercise equipment, a wading pool, and even a giant fountain.

"I'm guessing this is it," I say and pull in. I recognize Andrew right away. His dark hair is messy but once Goblin jumps and tackles him, I see why. They wrestle around a bit until Goblin jumps up and makes another run around the large play area. I park and leash Ginger again, careful to make sure her collar is on tight enough before I let her out.

Besides Andrew and Goblin, the park is empty. I check my watch, noting it's still early for most people to get out of work and wonder what Andrew does for the Sharks that allows him such a flexible schedule. Perhaps he works from home? We didn't get into the details about his work on our date, and our video call last night was a bust after Ginger decided to go insane.

"Hey," I say and wave when Andrew looks over his shoulder. He hops up and jogs to the entrance to help me inside.

"Hey, you." He pulls the gate wide and shuts it behind us. "You can take her off leash here. Eight foot fence and no other doors." He motions around and steps closer to me. It's enough to make Ginger tense and study him. Andrew is keen enough to notice my dog is on the alert, so he steps back and kneels. "Hi there, pretty girl. You must be Ginger."

Once he offers his hand, the wiggling commences. Ginger steals a few ear scratches before Goblin rushes over.

Andrew reaches for him. "This is—"

I'm nearly taken out at the knees and have to grab ahold of Andrew to keep from falling face down into the grass.

"Goblin!" Andrew yells but the dogs have already made their way across the yard. "I'm so sorry. He usually has better manners than that. Are you okay?" He brushes imaginary grass from my shoulder even though I didn't actually fall and get grass on anything.

"Yeah, totally fine. He's only excited." I try to wave off the fact that I'm blushing, but it's hard to hide my face when Andrew still has ahold of one of my hands. He tucks hair away from my face, but when he makes eye contact, I look away. I don't mean to, but instinct kicks in and I shield myself. He must notice this because he releases my hand.

"Goblin seems to like Ginger. That's good." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and averts his gaze. There's an odd disappointment to his tone that's misplaced if he's happy, but I remind myself that I don't know anything about him or his tones yet. Not past our first date interactions and all of five minutes on a call last night.

"Yeah. They seem to be having a lot of fun. Want to walk around and show me the whole park?" Maybe if I put the offer out, we can pick up where we left off the other night. I liked where the date was leading. I like that he's flirty in a subtle way, letting me know he's interested but not pushing too hard. He's comfortable and doesn't seem to be putting on a front to make me like him; something that's not real, a veneer that will fade in time. This is Andrew, and so far, I like him.

"Sure, though there really isn't much else to see. Over the hill is the road that leads to my house. You can actually see it from the top." He pulls his hands from his pockets but doesn't reach for mine. Instead, he lets them fall to his sides. I'm not entirely sure this is an invitation, but I seize it anyway and slip my fingers between his. He squeezes my hand and slams me with that cheeky grin.

"I think that grin means something," I tease.

Andrew tugs me a little closer and I inhale the scent of him. I mentally add grass to the running list of things that smell like Andrew while he takes me by surprise and loops his arm over my head, catching me against his chest as we walk.

"Is this okay?"

"Mmm-hmm. So, are you going to tell me what that grin means or will I have to let my mind run away trying to figure it out?"

He chuckles. "Might mean trouble, might mean I'm nervous. Maybe a little of both."

"Nervous? You don't seem nervous to me." Not a chance. There's no way this uber confident, gorgeous man is nervous around me. What about me is even mildly intimidating? Nothing. Nada. I'm meek and mild and, if I'm honest, a little bruised up from my last relationship. Maybe that's the scary part?

"I am. You're beautiful and sweet and confident. You like dogs and long walks. You're funny, too." That same disappointment creeps into his tone again.

"Why does that sound like a bad thing when you say it like that?"

Andrew inhales long and slow before pausing. "Because I need to tell you something about me you might find a complete turn off." His gaze flitters toward me, then away in a blink. He is nervous, that part was true. But I can't unhear what he said. I don't know what it could be, but if it's making him this unsure of himself, I'm worried.

"So, I tried to tell you this last night but Ginger did what she did and you had to go." It seems physically painful for him to get the words out. Taking a calming breath does not help my fast-beating heart. I don't want there to be a deal breaker. I don't want to not like something about him. Sure, there will be some things I don't care for, but I'm not ready to write this off only a few days after it's started. I'm already disappointed, and he hasn't even told me what he thinks will turn me away.

"It can't be that bad," I say, my voice catching. My palms are sweaty. I don't want this to end in the middle of a dog park while our dogs run around like…I pause and glance around. I don't see either dog anywhere. I spin in place and Andrew releases my hand. "Um, where are the dogs?"

He turns on his heel and points back toward the entrance. "Probably on the slide. Goblin loves…Oh, they aren't there." After a few spins of his own, he gets a wild flame in his eyes. "Uh, can Ginger jump?"

"I mean, she's a boxer. She's like a spring, but if you're asking me if she can jump an eight foot fence, then probably not."

"Goblin can. He probably jumped it when I wasn't watching."

My heart leaps and I break into a run back to the entrance. I'm panicking, because my dog has the survival skills of a toddler, and there is every reason to believe she might get hit by a car if she followed Goblin over the fence.

Andrew beats me to the gate and throws it open. I barely get it closed before he's in the parking lot searching for our dogs.

I don't see any other cars, so I assume he walked to the park with Goblin. "Want to take my car?" I shout and unlock it. "Actually, you know the neighborhood. You drive." I toss the keys at him. He catches them and falls into my driver's seat without hesitation.

Andrew maneuvers out of the parking space and we're moving through the neighborhood, checking in every yard. I watch one way while he watches the other, but neither of us speaks. I'm too worried about Ginger to talk, but I am still thinking about what deal breaker he has to tell me.

"This neighborhood is massive." I roll the window down and brave the heat to call out for Ginger. "Ginger! Here girl!" I whistle a few times but, as expected, she doesn't appear.

We go through the entire neighborhood, check with people walking, and even head back to the park. Goblin and Ginger are nowhere to be found, but we decide to check all of the play equipment just to be sure.

"He usually hides in here when he's mad at me," Andrew says and peers through a curving tunnel. "Can you crawl in that end in case he comes out?"

"Sure," I say and kneel down, contorting myself until I can ease into the tunnel. Andrew crawls through the entire thing until he meets me at my end. He frowns and makes eye contact with me.

"We'll find them. I promise," he says.

My confidence wavers but I nod and ease out of the tunnel. There are a few other places they could hide, but I don't believe for a second either of them is in the park area. Ginger would have come out to me by now. I shield my eyes from the sun that slowly dips beneath the trees. It'll be dinner time soon. I have to find my girl before it's dark. "Maybe we should go door to door? Could they have jumped into someone else's yard?"

Andrew stands straight after peering into a little plastic tent and smacks his forehead. "I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner."

"Going door to door?"

Andrew jogs by and grabs my hand. "No, going home. I'll bet you he took Ginger to his playset. Come on."

I let him drive again until he pulls into a long driveway beautifully landscaped with lavender and rose bushes.

"Looks like Nancy got the lavender planted today," he says, but since I don't know who Nancy is and I'm concerned about my dog, I slam my door shut and rush to the fence. It's a six foot privacy fence, so I stand on my tiptoes to look over it. Sure enough, the two escape artists are taking turns going down the slide.

"Oh, thank goodness," I say and press my hand to my chest. My heart is still racing but my girl is safe. Andrew peers over the fence and groans.

"I'm sorry. Looks like my dog is a horrible influence on yours. I didn't mean to give you a heart attack on our second date." He leans his back against the fence and grimaces.

"Were you planning that for the third date? Maybe holding off until I'm fully hooked?" I tease and lean back beside him while my heart slows.

"Fully hooked?" he asks and rolls his head to look at me. There's sorrow in his eyes, but that same grin tugs at his lips. "Does that mean you are partially hooked now?"

I tap my chin and quirk my lips to one side. "Mmmaybe. I like you so far, despite the antics your dog got mine into. I'm a little worried about what you have to tell me though."

Andrew pushes off the fence and nods toward the door. "Want to come in for a glass of water and I'll explain?"

I look over his shoulder at his house. It's not one of the larger homes in the neighborhood, but it is gorgeous. All brick with a double chimney, a stone walkway, and dark blue accents. It boasts a large front porch with a swing, hanging ferns, and a cozy, inviting appeal.

"Sure. Why not?" I let him lead me up the front stairs and through the door where I decide the inside does not match the exterior. It is the least welcoming environment I've ever seen, and I can't say that it suits him at all.

With its white sofa, functional but cold tables, and minimal color, it seems more like something a soulless zombie might like. Okay, maybe not soulless, but there is nothing warm and inviting about it. It's the opposite of Andrew so far as I can tell, but I remind myself that he has some deep secret to share. A chill runs down my spine. Did I just walk into a serial killer's trap? Why on earth did I agree to enter his home?

Stop it, Lottie. I'm being ridiculous now, but when Andrew opens his sliding glass door and lets the dogs in, I am instantly comforted by Ginger's presence.

"Let me get them some water too and then we can talk. Make yourself comfortable." He motions to the sofa, but I doubt I'll find much comfort there. Still, I sit and wait for him to fill a giant water bowl and set it out on the porch. The sun is setting and it's a little cooler, so he closes the screen and leaves the heavy door open once the dogs slip back out.

He heads back to the kitchen and fills a couple glasses of water before entering the living area. I take one and have a sip, but fall short of where to place it once I'm done.

"You can just put it on the table. I hate this furniture, so maybe if you ruin it I can rationalize getting something new."

Oh thank goodness. At least he's not a cold, aloof jerk like his furniture implies.

"So, I can't figure out what you could have to say that would be a deal breaker. We've gone over the basics. You're not a serial killer. You have job and you appear to be a normal, well-functioning adult. What's this big thing you need to tell me?"

I brace for impact.

Andrew licks his lips and ruffles his hair. "First, I'd really like to tell you that I'm fond of you, Lottie. I had so much fun on our date and even though our dogs set us up on a wild goose chase, I had a nice time with you today, too. But I respect you and your wishes, so I need to tell you the truth about something."

My heart sinks deeper.

"When my friend set me up on the app, I asked him not to list my job. I wanted to keep it under wraps for a while until anyone I was matched with got to know me, the real me, not the guy they see…on…on television."

Oh no. Television? What does he do for the Sharks?

He takes another deep breath and says, "I'm the starting pitcher for the Sharks, and since you said you have no interest in dating an athlete, I knew I needed to tell you. I should have told you that first night, but I was honestly in shock and didn't know how to come out with it. I tried last night too, but…you know."

No. No. No. This cannot be happening. The room spins a little as I try to make sense of this situation. Is it really that bad? I have no proof that all athletes are cheating liars, but something about it still doesn't settle right.

"Lottie, I'm sorry. I never meant to cause you any frustration or hurt. I had no idea when we met that you felt that way, and I kept my job a secret at first because, like I said, I wanted you to get to know me as Andrew and not as a pro athlete. Can you understand?"

"Uh…Um…but why?"

He shakes his head a little and his brow furrows. "A lot of women only want to date me because I'm in the public eye. It gets frustrating trying to figure out who actually cares about me and not my career."

I nod slightly and swallow.

"Uh, yeah. I guess that makes sense. I'm not mad or anything but I'm not sure what it means going forward. I just don't like the idea of repeating the same mistake."

What? Why did I say that? Andrew hasn't given me any reason to think he's anything like Rory, but the words spill out. He hasn't done anything wrong, and I basically insinuated that he's a lying, cheating jerk.

Andrew lowers his gaze and nods. "I respect that. I wish it were different, but I guess it is what it is."

The disappointment floods his voice and he makes uneasy eye contact with me. He's hurt. It's impossible to miss how his entire face darkens. I killed the light, but I can't stop the part of me that needs to protect myself from getting hurt again. Still, I have enjoyed getting to know him so far. I can't put myself out there far enough to agree to date him, but I can be his friend. I can get to know him on my terms and see if the man he's presented to me thus far is the real Andrew Rossi.

"I didn't mean to imply that you are that way, it's just…"

"Yeah, I know what you meant." It's clipped, a little short. He says he knows, but there is no mistaking the tone. I offended him.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I have enjoyed our time together, I'm just not quite ready to let go of what's probably a completely unjustified bias against the sort of career you have."

He nods once but doesn't return eye contact with me.

"If you'd like to be friends, I can do that. I would like that," I offer. He's probably going to shoot me down since he's looking for something more, but to my surprise, his eyes flash back to life and connect with mine.

"Yeah? I mean, I could use some honest friends. They're hard to come by." He's milder, less tense.

My chest eases a little. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe there is a chance that an athlete like Andrew can redeem them all, but I'm not about to tell him that. I'll observe. Watch. Catalogue his behaviors until I'm certain that he's sincere.

"Yeah, sure. Why not? We enjoy each other's company, right? Besides, I see a set of severely underused drums over there, and someone has to teach you how to use them."

Andrew chuckles and runs his hands through his thick black hair. "You don't have to keep that promise. I won't hold you to it."

My hand goes and grows a mind of its own and grasps his. "I want to. What are friends for, after all?"

His throat bobs as he swallows hard and glances at our clasped hands. He wants more, but what exactly he wants isn't clear yet. My decision couldn't have hurt him that deeply. After all, this is only our second real date, but I sense this rejection goes much deeper. It isn't just about me. It can't all be.

"I'd really like that," he whispers.

For a second, I want to take it all back. I want to say never mind, I was crazy, please court me until I fall head over heels for you. I don't, but there's an ache in my chest I can't decipher. It screams that I lost something I haven't even discovered yet, so I promise myself that I'll pray about this, ask for focus and understanding, and above all, that I navigate this relationship rightly.

I give him my brightest smile, something I hope is reassuring in some small way, and stand. "Well, first we need to get something to eat, because those brats out there made me work up an appetite. Shall we grab a snack?"

Andrew's smile widens. "Now you're talking my language."