Best Friend's Ex Box Set
Page 15
raid that Lillie would always linger between us, making it impossible to move forward in our lives. But just being with her brought freedom to my world that I didn’t realize that I needed or that I was even missing. When I was with her, I forgot about all the painful things in the past, and I was able to remember Lillie the way she should be remembered, as someone that changed my world and affected me in a way that could make me appreciate the beauty in life. Being with Elana made me realize that if I ever wanted to have any sort of chance at happiness, I needed to open up and have a strong female contact in my life.
I needed someone I could laugh with, tell jokes with, and at the same time, grow with into the future. Someone that I was inexplicably attracted to and had no fears when it came to letting them into my heart. In all reality, I needed a clone of Elana that had never been best friends with my dead fiancée, but since that wasn’t in the cards, I figured maybe singles’ softball might bring me a new catch, pun completely intended.
Every time I started to think about dating someone, Elana would pop into my mind, which was an improvement from Lillie, but not by much. I had to keep telling myself that Elana was too firmly rooted in my past. Every memory I had with her before I came back to Madison involved Lillie in some way, and there was never a way that I could escape that. I truly felt that if I was going to have someone there during my recovery, it had to be someone that had no connection to my past or to Lillie at all.
I told myself that often, at least ten times just that day alone, and even though I truly thought I was making the right decision, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her ever since that night. It was sensual, lustful, and everything that I needed and wanted from Elana. I had an amazing conversation, laughed harder than I had in years, and was able to be myself completely. That being said, between the sweet was the sour, and that sour was unbearable. When I got down about Lillie, it was almost a complete shutdown, something I had trained to do to myself in order to survive all of this. I had become a pro at building a really fast and really sturdy wall around myself. Elana was more than capable of breaking down that wall with just the sound of her laughter. To me, that was scary, and I didn’t want to continue to torture myself.
I shook all those thoughts from my head and submerged myself in the event. It actually turned out that singles’ softball was fun and focused mainly on the softball while we were on the field. We were split into two teams, had some friendly banter back and forth, and then the “coach,” which happened to be the guy with the sling, put us into our respective positions. I started the game as a shortstop, but after the catcher took one right in the nuts, I was promoted to the catcher’s position. In all my years playing sports, I had actually never been the catcher before, and I found out that I was pretty good at it, especially when it came to helping the pitcher pick the right throw for the job. I had always been really good at reading people, which came in handy in the catcher position. Either way, the game was a whole lot of fun, and my team ended up winning, which meant the other team picked up the tab at the bar.
The singles part of it didn’t kick off until we were across the street at the bar, drinking beer and talking about the game. Everyone seemed to get along really well, and it was really nice sitting around a not so crowded bar, having good conversations. I could tell that not everyone was there to find a date. A lot of them were there just for the comradery and friendship that the group seemed to bring to people. I had pictured a very stressful environment where men were on one side and women were on the other, silence between them until someone crossed the barrier. To me, it just looked like a whole bunch of people that enjoyed each other’s company, getting together and talking about everything from sports to their kids, and back to the normal get to know you questions. Suffice it to say, there was no pressure to meet anyone, and it seemed to be an unspoken thing that this was not the kind of event that advocated for women or men to pick up one-night stands. The environment was extremely respectful.
By the point in which we went over to the bar, I had gotten comfortable enough with my teammates to talk freely, which made it a hell of a lot easier to talk to women. Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad idea after all. I got to play some softball, meet some cool people, make some new, older friends that were on the same career level as me, and possibly even meet a woman. By the time I was into my second beer, I had already decided this might be a regular thing for me, or at least once or twice a month. It wouldn’t hurt for me to get some sort of exercise anyway, since lately, I had been skipping my morning runs to avoid the run of tears where I thought about Lillie the whole time and sweated out the alcohol that I drank the night before.
I finished up my conversation with Brian, the guy with the arm sling, finding out that he had accidently sprained it tripping over a trashcan on Sunday morning. The first thing that popped into my mind was where my Sunday ended up, but I quickly shook that thought from my mind and wandered over to the table where Sandra was sitting. Sandra had been the pitcher all night, and I was immediately attracted to her brash and opinionated style. She was closer to my age, with long brown hair and brown eyes, and a thin but athletic build to her. She was petite in size, but she definitely made up for that in personality. I wandered over and stood at the edge of the table smiling at her.
“You mind if I sit down?”
“Not at all, star catcher,” she said with a smile. “Though I do have to say, the circumstances surrounding your move from shortstop were definitely tragic.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “We definitely need to have a moment of silence for Andrew’s nut sack.”
We sat there for a second in silence and then burst into laughter, clinking our drinks together. I lifted my arms in the air and yawned, stretching out my muscles. I couldn’t help but notice her checking me out, but I decided not to call her out on it. I still wasn’t sure if she would get my sense of humor. Most people didn’t.
“I totally think if we were playing with wooden bats, we would have less ball injuries,” I said.
“Are you kidding me? Aluminum is the way to go, all the way. You get more loft, more distance, and they work better with the softballs.”
“Apparently not all soft balls,” I said, lifting my eyebrows and chuckling.
“Yeah, well, that is why God made cups.” She chuckled.
“Did God make those?” I asked, smirking. “I must have missed that in church.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s between when he created the heavens and when he rested,” she said. “It’s a really subtle reference.”
“I’m Ollie, by the way, I don’t think I introduced myself,” I said, reaching out my hand.
“Sandra,” she replied, shaking my hand. “But I had manners, so you already knew my name.”
She looked at me seriously for a second and then busted into laughter, which was refreshing. She didn’t have the same sense of humor as me, but she was sarcastic and open, and I really liked those qualities in a woman. She was really sweet, and I was starting to think I had made the right choice by coming to singles’ softball.
“I know we just met, but I think you’re funny,” I said, smiling. “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon? The Packers and the Steelers are playing tomorrow night, and they are showing the game at this local sports bar, Jack’s. I thought maybe you would want to come with me.”
“That sounds fun,” she said, smiling. “It’s a date.”
And there you have it.
Chapter 16
Elana
Jeff Branson had this hometown boy quality to him that was actually kind of adorable. He had auburn hair, blue eyes, and a patch of freckles spread out over his nose and cheeks. At first glance, he was a handsome guy that was just a few years older than me, which I hoped meant he was more mature than most men my age. He seemed to have his shit together. He had shown up on time, wasn’t wearing someone else’s makeup on his clothes, held the door for me, and hadn’t come out and asked me for any sexual favors yet. It was sad that my criteria had lowered so much, but this guy was definitely ranking up there with the best one I had found so far.
He worked as a bank manager, enjoyed fishing in his spare time, and was a huge fan of John Grisham novels, which I told him I wouldn’t hold against him. He didn’t laugh at all, giving me a flutter in my stomach, assuming he was going to be just another one that didn’t find me funny. Still, I admired the fact that he liked to read, which, as a librarian, was definitely something we should have in common. Having things in common would be a step above anyone else I had dated, unless you included Ollie, which I was trying my hardest not to do that evening.
He liked my mother, too, and talked very highly of her. He told me how he worked at her bank, and after talking to him several times over the last few months, she had discovered that he was newly single, but not new enough to be looking for a rebound, and came off as a very nice guy. He had immediately told me how much he liked my mother when he picked me up for the date, which was a plus, but I thought maybe he was just nervous and trying to impress me. It seemed that my mother had become some sort of local bank hero, with what I was now referring to as the “lollipop heist.”
“Your mom is a really big sweetheart,” he said from across the table. “She comes into the bank, which is where I met her originally. The first time I met her, she had come to me asking where the little lollipops the tellers used to give out went. She was very adamant about thes