Discipline

“Oh, don’t be, I didn’t even notice.”

Our shoulders relaxed. “How was home?” I asked, wary for a couple reasons. One, she still looked a little sullen and two, I feared that she had come bearing some message from my mother. She hadn’t called me since the night I’d told her about Ben and I could only imagine it was because she wanted me to show my love by calling first or because she was plotting some way to get me back with Ben.

“A huge blast, as usual.” Kelsey dripped with sarcasm. “Probably more fun than whatever you were doing here.”

I blinked at her from my bed, unsure of how to respond.

“Anyway,” Kelsey grumbled before pushing her body off of my doorframe and heading wordlessly to her room. Adriana stared at me, lowering her voice to well below a whisper.

“She still super upset or what?”

“I think. But I’m not sure I really know why she was upset in the first place.”

Adriana wound her flaxen blonde hair around her hand. “This is just a theory, but I think you living here again reminds her of how she isn’t satisfied with her social life. Or love life. Or herself. Remember when you first lived here how she used to get into moods? Where she was normal to everyone but all cranky and quiet around you?”

“Yeah.”

“It was probably because she was self-conscious about always being home while you were out. You’d come in at night or the morning and she’d be there. You brought friends over and she never did. She probably convinced herself that you secretly judged her. You know?”

“I figured she was sick of me talking about Ben. The moods started right after I met him and there were a few weeks where I gushed about him a lot. Because apparently at some point, I liked him,” I snorted.

“Did Kelsey ever hang out with him?”

“Mostly at family functions. She liked him a lot, like everyone else.”

Adriana stuck her tongue out. “Well, I hate using this word to describe other girls, but I think she might be a bit jealous. Of you. So it’s a good thing you can’t talk to her about you-know-who ‘cause she’d probably lose her shit and have a jealousy-induced brain aneurysm.”

“God, Ade.”

“Kidding. But I hope she starts feeling better because you know how they say to watch out for the quiet ones? Well, you also gotta be careful of the angry, bitter virgins.”

~

“What?”

A nervous smile twitched on my lips as Daniel watched me. Eyes narrowed at him, I took a swig of my beer.

Hunched over the bar, his shoulders looked bigger, broader and even more delicious than usual. And I hadn’t leaned back in my stool to look yet, but I could imagine how good the view of his V-shaped back was in that position, especially since the girls in the booth behind us could hardly stop themselves from gawking. Not that they were the only ones. In the corner, a trio of women in their mid-forties had been whispering not-so-quietly about him since the moment we’d come in.

I couldn’t blame any of them. The lights in the bar highlighted the way his thin, grey T-shirt dipped into the crevices of his muscles. He looked so effortlessly sexy that it was almost ridiculous. The fact that he was looking at me with that gorgeous, crooked grin made it all the better.

“I didn’t think there was anything I loved more than seeing you in those dresses,” he said with a little chuckle, eyeing me under the reddish lights of the bar. “But this outfit might actually trump the rest.”

I looked down at my ensemble. Since Kelsey was home, I’d nixed my plans to cook for Daniel in the apartment, which was a bit of a bummer since I’d gone out to buy all the ingredients and even imagined myself throwing them together for him while wearing a gauzy new summer dress. But I didn’t dwell on the disappointment, especially since I realized that I’d accidentally thrown that dress into the wash along with the bed sheets, so half the date idea was a bust anyway. And since laundry day had left me with nothing else to wear, I pulled on what I had left — slightly ripped jeans and my old Mets shirt that was faded to the point of being a plain white tee at this point.

Despite the discoloration, it reminded me that the Mets were playing the Yankees tonight. Recalling the pinstriped memorabilia that used to decorate his classroom around playoffs time, I proposed to Daniel that we watch tonight’s game together at Trudy’s in Prospect Heights, my favorite sports bar. It was a little known hole in the wall where the “non-annoying fans” went, according to Em when she spoke about the place to others. Being my fellow Mets loyalist, she and I had discovered the place together years ago and practically lived there one season.

Though I hadn’t been inside since dating Ben, Trudy had gasped upon my entrance, practically climbing over the bar to give me a hug before sliding a Hennepin in my direction. After that, she turned to Daniel, giving him and his adorably charmed expression the once over before sliding over a Yuengling, a choice that he wholeheartedly approved of.

“Well, since you like my laundry day outfit so much,” I teased him, “I guess I can ditch those tight little numbers and wear sweats the next time we go out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t stop you. At this point, I know that you just look drop dead gorgeous in anything.” I blushed, watching him glance at the game and then back at me. “I think this is my fantasy right here,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Having a beer while watching the game with you in your laundry day outfit. I haven’t felt this good in awhile.”

“Trust me, me neither. All I need is for my Mets to beat your Yanks in the most heartbreakingly painful way possible tonight and I’m all set.”

Daniel cocked an eyebrow at me, amused. “I hate to be the one to tell you this but ‘heartbreaking’ and ‘painful’ are words that you Mets fans own.”

“Aw, ouch, but not this season.” I shook my head. “We’re the new look Mets and you guys are gettin’ old, falling back into the whole sign-the-aging-star-who-peaked-five-years-ago mode. I can see it. And I can see us winning tonight. By one run. A true heartbreaker.” The smirk touching my lips broke into a big ol’ grin as Daniel feigned shock and umbrage while further rolling up the sleeves on his long-sleeve T-shirt. Along with my own, I could feel several other pairs of eyes flying to his irresistible forearms.