22. Cat

22

CAT

I wasn't sure I'd ever wanted a weekend to end faster.

But as my Mercedes rolled up to the softball field on Monday morning, I wished I could go back to Sunday. I'd been tortured by my kiss with Cleo since the farmer's market on Saturday, feeling Cleo's lips on mine every time I closed my eyes.

When I got out of my car, I realized they hadn't arrived yet. I made a point to be early this week, not wanting to risk pissing them off again.

So I grabbed my bag and headed over to the field where I stretched and warmed up. By the time Cleo's Corolla was driving into the lot, I was ready to roll.

Watching them walk over to the field, I couldn't stop myself from looking at their body. Their hips swayed with each step, easy to see in the skin-tight leggings that Cleo wore to our practices.

A cold wind blew against my face, cooling off the blush rising in my cheeks. As they got closer, Cleo avoided meeting my gaze.

It surprised me that they might be a little embarrassed about kissing me. And to be fair, I was surprised that they made the first move. I assumed if anything was ever going to happen between us, I would make a fool of myself by trying to make a move on them just to get rejected.

"Hey." I waved.

"Hi. Ready?" Cleo swallowed hard as they walked past me and into the dugout. Tossing their stuff down, Cleo quickly changed into their cleats.

Unsure how to handle myself, I clapped my hands together. "How was the rest of your weekend?"

Their blue eyes flicked up to mine, a raging glare on their face. "Fine, thanks."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "You don't have to be an ass, ya know? If you didn't want to kiss me, you can just say it was a mistake and we can move on."

Without another word, Cleo stood up and walked out onto the field. With each step, they tossed the ball from their right hand into the gloved left hand. A loud thud resounded across the grass with each throw.

"Get your bat." They called back to me.

Groaning, I slid the metal rod from my bag and walked out to the field. They do not need to be this rude.

"What are we working on, Coach Cleo?"

Cleo looked down at their feet on the pitcher's mound, rubbing their cleats into the sand. "If your pitching form is that rough, your batting is definitely worse. And we can't have you relying on a pinch hitter to get back into the league."

It was a fair point. As much as I'd been a star, I had a lot left to prove. I needed to bring as much value as possible to my team to have any hopes of coming back.

Stepping up to home plate, I squared my feet with the white, irregular pentagon. It was smudged with dirt and skid marks from the rec league playing over the weekend.

"Some animal didn't even bother to clean up the plate." I shook my head.

Cleo scoffed. "You're so fucking spoiled." As they got into position on the mound, Cleo tried not to smile at my complaint. We used to play together in my backyard, using old pieces of gutters as bases. This was a fair-cry from "out of order".

Glad I could make them smile, I tried to calm my own as I lifted the bat to my ear.

"Lift your elbow," Cleo called from across the field.

Doing as I was told, I pulled my elbow higher, a light pull shooting to my shoulder. I winced at the feeling. Even if I knew I wasn't about to get hurt, my brain was convinced that the same pop it heard on the field two years ago would happen again.

It was a mental fight to get that voice to quiet.

Trying to steady my breathing, I took in a deep breath through my nose as Cleo wound up the neon yellow softball. It came hurtling toward me as it left their hand. I kept my eye on it as it got closer, trusting my eye to start my swing at the right time.

Pivoting on my back foot, my arms stretched out as my back extended. I heard the metal clink as it made a light contact with the spinning leather. Instead of flying toward Cleo and into the outfield, the ball spun out over my head and landed in the grass behind home plate.

"Fuck." I groaned.

Cleo shook their head. "Again."

We kept on like that for a while. Cleo wasn't ready to let me off the field until I was hitting the vast majority of the balls.

When we finally came off the field, we both changed our shoes in the dugout. After a moment, Cleo shrugged. "I could tell that you were trying to be more present. Your form was much better."

"Thanks." I smiled as I peeked over at them. Bent over, I untied my cleats. "So, how is the planning for the future coming?"

"Fine." Cleo swallowed hard, avoiding the question as much as possible. Flustered, they finished taking off their cleats and slipped on their sneakers. "I've had this idea for a while and haven't gotten around to writing anything."

My jaw dropped as I sat up. "You still write?"

Shaking their head, Cleo groaned. "Didn't you just hear me say I haven't written?"

"But like… you still want to?" I watched them closely, knowing they were likely to play it all down. But in reality, Cleo had always been a skilled writer. Back in high school, they would write in an old notebook in the dugout.

"Kind of. I mean the bookstore leaves me with a lot of time just sitting around." Cleo stood from the rusty old bench and packed up their bag.

Clapping my hands together, I looked up at them. "This is perfect. I want to take you somewhere."

Wrinkling their forehead, Cleo shook their head. "How can that be true?"

"Well, you've been helping me. So, let me help you." I knew my eyes had lit up far more than I meant them to. But I couldn't stop myself from getting excited when Cleo was around.

Cleo bit their lip. "When?"

For a moment, I racked my brain for the details. I saw the poster over a month ago but even then, I pictured the two of us there. And now, I needed to make it happen. Pulling out my phone, I checked the date.

"Tonight. I'll pick you up at 5." A smile took over my cheeks as I grabbed my packed bag off the bench.

"Seriously?" I could see Cleo's own smile playing on their lips. "What if I had plans?"

I didn't mean to let the laugh escape my lungs but when it did, I raised my hands in surrender. "Then you don't anymore. This is more important." Not waiting to hear any resistance, I walked out of the dugout and left them in my dust.

Besides, I didn't have time to waste. I needed to get ready for my date with my ex.

A few hours later, I was dressed and showered. I had texted Dan and Meredith to let them know I'd be out for dinner and headed out of the house just before 5 pm. Before I walked out, I checked my reflection in the full-length mirror by the front door.

The black trousers were tight on my newly muscular thighs. But the matching black belt and button-down look slick. I hoped it would draw at least a little bit of Cleo's attention. After all, it was their work that got me to look like this again.

I took off to my car, skipping the last two steps of the porch stairs and basically throwing myself into the car. I'd kept my hair down, letting the long locks flow down my shoulders and back.

Starting up the car, I started the short drive over to Cleo's place. I tried not to get too in my head as I drove, not wanting to let my nerves get the best of me before I even saw them.

Instead, I blasted the radio until I pulled up outside of Cleo's Shelf. Hopping out of the car, I smoothed out my shirt.

God, I hope this turns out okay.

Walking up to the apartment door, I pressed the buzzer and waited. No answer. I wasn't sure how long I should wait before ringing the bell again. I turned to look down the street, luckily no one was around to see my shame. The sun was just starting to sink in the sky, it would be setting just as we hit the river.

Behind me, the rattle of the old metal door drew my attention.

"Sorry, I was already heading out when you buzzed." Cleo stopped in their tracks as they saw me.

Turning around, my jaw dropped. They looked amazing in a flowing sundress in the perfect autumn orange. "Wow."

Cleo rolled their eyes. "Stop."

But I couldn't. Maybe this wasn't supposed to be a date, but I hadn't seen them dress up like this since we were in our early twenties. Seeing them like this blew my mind.

"Where are you taking me?" Narrowing their eyes, Cleo glared at me.

I offered them my hand as we walked to the car, but they crossed their arms instead. Jogging across the sidewalk, I grabbed the handle of my Mercedes Benz and pulled the door open for her. "After you."

"Thanks." Cleo slid into the car, tucking their dress under their legs.

With a nod, I gently closed the door. Hopefully, they'd unwind a little once we hit the road.

I walked in front of the car and took a deep breath before hopping into the driver's seat.

Once the door was shut, Cleo looked over at me. "Seriously, where are we going?"

Putting the car in drive and zipping down Main Street, I smirked. "To the city."

Cleo smacked my arm. "What the fuck?"