Take Me Out Page 2

  No matter what I did I couldn’t get Bentley out of my mind. In a city with six hundred thousand people I was resigned to the fact that I would never see him again.

  I decided I would blog about it. Not like it was much of anyone’s business, but it was what I did when I was bored. I opened my MacBook Pro and let all that I could remember from Friday night pour onto the screen. The drinks, the chance meeting in the beer line, the scene we made dancing and Bentley serenading me. Against my better judgment, I included the kiss. Since I wasn’t going to see him again, it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t use his name; he could ride off into the sunset, safe from my crazy life.

  I scheduled the post to go up on the following Tuesday morning, to avoid being around for my friends’ harassment.

  Monday morning brought the last day of freedom before exams. I decided after I crawled my ass out of bed I would see if Shay wanted to head down to Starbucks and grab a Frappuccino before getting a quick pedicure. I looked into her bedroom but she was nowhere to be found. ‘It would have been helpful if I’d gotten out of bed before noon.’

  I left for Starbucks and once there, I ordered my favorite drink. As I enjoyed it, I checked my e-mail on my phone, and then spent the better part of an hour checking the local tabloids for pictures of the kiss. And all the while, I felt as though someone were watching me. After a while, it bothered me so bad I got goosebumps. I quickly finished my coffee and without taking the time to look around threw away my cup in the garbage. On the way to the door, I collided with what felt like a brick wall.

  “I am so sorry... I should’ve been....”

  When I looked up to apologize to whoever was in my clumsy path, I was shocked. It was none other than Bentley, standing there with an amused smirk.

  “Fancy meeting you here Miss Windsor” he said with a laugh. ‘How does he know my last name?’ I couldn’t stop sizing him up. Wearing a tight white shirt with some black writing and a pair of dark blue jeans, his ensemble was finished with a backwards Red Sox ball cap.

  “How are you doing Bentley?” I barely choked out.

  “I was having a sub-par day until I saw your beautiful face Charlie,” he said without skipping a beat. “I missed you over the weekend. I was hoping to run into you at another game. I was greatly disappointed when I didn’t because I have something for you.”

  Me? Beautiful? I desperately tried to keep from blushing, but it was damn near impossible. The last thing I needed was for him to know I was completely smitten with him. He was one of those guys who would take advantage of me and set me out with tomorrow’s trash.

  “Oh is that so? Do you say that to all the girls you pick up?” I said it in such a snarky tone; I knew he never expected it.

  The look of confusion and amusement on his face was priceless. “I don’t make it a point to pick up girls Charlotte. I’m not really the relationship type,” he replied. “Please take this, it’s for you.” He handed me a small box wrapped in a fancy green shiny wrapping paper with a large blue bow.

  “Thank you but I really shouldn’t accept this,” I said as I tried to push the box back to him, but he wouldn’t accept it.

  “I have no use for it. Please, I bought it specifically for you Charlie. Now take the damn present.” A smile lifted across his lips. Gone was the bossy tone and he was back to charming and sweet.

  I knew I should have just walked away; I’m not looking for a hook up... hell, I’m not even looking for a boyfriend so why am I still wasting my time talking to his guy? He made it clear he’s not the relationship type.

  “Well I have an appointment in fifteen minutes; I hope you have a nice afternoon Bentley. Thank you for the gift.”

  I sat looking at the little box as it sat on my giant kitchen table. Our apartment was nothing short of lavish, but only because my mother purchased and designed every detail. I never brought people to our apartment because I was embarrassed that I was a college student living in a penthouse condo most could never afford in their lifetime.

  Shay, on the other hand, showed off the place to everyone. She still remembered what it was like when she lived with her mom. Being raised by a single mother and even on the salary of two jobs, they had barely scraped by. While she missed her mother immensely, she didn’t miss living in the projects wondering if she would have power at the end of the week.

  I wanted to open it but I was almost scared to know what it was. Just then Shay finally made an appearance for the first time all day. “What’s for dinner, I’m starving!”

  “Where the hell have you been?” It wasn’t often she vanished for an entire day.

  “I was studying at the library. I’m worried about finals, so I wanted to put in a little extra time.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Shay was a pre-med student. Shay’s mother had always joked that her daughter should make her proud by becoming a doctor, but when Shay’s mother was killed by a drunk driver, she took the joke seriously. Plus with my father running every detail of Boston Children’s Hospital her career move after graduation was not a question but a certainty. It was getting the degree that was the real challenge.

  She was smart though. If I was told to vote on “most likely to be a successful doctor” like we had for the high school yearbook, Shay would have won.

  Shay picked up the shiny box from the table. “What’s this?”

  “Remember that guy from Fenway Friday night?” I replied with a huge grin on my face.

  “Bentley? How could I forget him?”

  “I ran into him at Starbucks today and apparently he’s been carrying this around all weekend looking for me. Maybe he’s stalking me?” Though I feigned a look of disgust, she knew just as well as I did I was overjoyed to see him.

  “Oh Honey! He ain’t stalkin’ you, I told him your Monday routine!” she laughed hysterically. Sold out by my other half!

  She had set this all up. Shay went behind my back! That’s what they must have been talking about Friday night when I made my way back to my seat. Now I could only wonder what else she spilled!

  “Oh, well at least I know he isn’t a total creep now!”

  “Open the damn gift already, I want to see what it is,” she commanded. Before I could rip the pretty present to shreds I took out my iPhone and snapped a picture of it and posted it to Instagram.

  ‘Mystery Gift from a Hot Guy,’ I captioned.

  I knew that soon my Facebook and Twitter pages would be abuzz with all my friends asking what the hell was going on. ‘Let them ask!’ I thought. I was going to have fun with this! It had been too long since I was wooed by a man.

  I ripped into the paper quicker than any present I ever dove into on Christmas morning. Then I opened the little brown box inside. When I pulled the lid off there were at least a dozen loose pictures and then a Red Sox picture frame, which enclosed the best picture of Bentley serenading me from Friday night.

  I had been given diamonds and jewels, fancy dresses and designer clothes in the past. But the little frame with an amazing memory was the best gift I’d ever received. I had to hold back a tear because I didn’t want Shay to think I had gone insane. I wasn’t used to genuine sweet gestures. I had to post about it on my blog.

  “Now that is one sweet man.” Shay laughed and headed for her bedroom. “He’s a keeper Charlie.”

  At that moment I secretly hoped I would run into Mr. Tattoo again.

  I opened my blog and began writing.

  The Mystery Man

  I feel like a little girl with a crush.

  Friday night during the seventh inning stretch, I was whisked off my feet and serenaded by a mysterious man who was sitting in front of me. I’ve never had so much fun in my life.

  After the game he bought all the pictures the in-house photographers took and packaged them up in an adorable box, picking the best picture for a frame. Then he tracked me down just to give it to me in person.

  I couldn’t care less about diamonds. My little picture frame with my out-of-a-mov
ie moment is the best gift I’ve ever received.’

  Chapter 2

  I’ve Lost My Sanity

  (Bentley)

  What the hell was I thinking, serenading some random chick at Fenway Park? Although, to be honest, there was something captivating about her; I couldn’t think or see anyone else but her from the moment she looked at me.

  I walked into my apartment with Andrew, still wondering if I had scared her off for good. Thanks to some intel from her friends, I had cornered her at Starbucks this morning to give her a present. What am I, some kind of fucking cheese ball romantic now?

  After the game at Fenway I ordered every last picture of the two of us. That night, Drew looked at me like I had lost my mind. In a way, I think I had. Then, I stalked Charlie to give her the gift. I’m Bentley Young. I don’t give women gifts! What the fuck?

  I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since high school. Layla broke my heart. She was the only person I ever had feelings for. I wouldn’t say I loved her; I don’t know if I’ve ever really been in love, but I had pretty intense feelings for her. When I caught her with my then best friend, Jeremy, all bets were off and I swore I would never let another woman get close enough to hurt me. And I hadn’t all these years. I didn’t want a girlfriend. Until I met Charlotte. That was strange because I knew nothing about her, but I felt like I needed her in my life.

  Between Layla and my mother, I hadn’t seen the point in opening myself up to any woman, which is why my attraction to Charlie was so confusing. I ran my fingers through my hair, something I only did when I was nervous, and looked down at the ground as I kicked a rock across the courtyard. I needed a way to process this entire thing, so I had taken a long walk. Sitting down on a bench my memories started to flood into my mind like a knife to my soul.

  My mother had been a nightmare to live with. Between her love for cheap, boxed wine and whoring around the local bars, she was barely a mother to us, much less a loving one. Andre and I had the same father; at least that’s what we were told growing up. Our younger brother, Dallas, was the product of her live-in boyfriend, Ted. They didn’t last long but I could never forget that asshole. I think Dallas was two when Ted left my mother without an ounce of regard for his child.

  I always wanted to find my biological father, but if he was anything like my mom it was probably better that I didn’t know him. My brothers and I eventually graduated high school and never looked back. California had become nothing but bad memories for us.

  I always tried to search for something positive in between the memories of hate, but those moments were truly few and far between. The occasional comforting after a bad dream, or tenderness while we were sick was there, but only as long as it didn’t conflict with her social calendar.

  I had been dealt a shitty hand in life, but like the saying goes, life is what you make of it. It’s the creed I live by. I never wanted pity from anyone. I knew I wanted to get away from the life I grew up in so, as soon as I could, I was gone. My brothers had done the same.

  Andre was serving in the United States Marine Corp, having completed two tours in Iraq a couple of years ago. Through promotions (and just being an overall badass) he was well on his way to becoming a Drill Instructor, something he always dreamed of as a child. Dallas, a freshman at NYU, was surprisingly bright and dedicated to his education, considering he’d been left to fend for himself. He got full scholarships. If he hadn’t, I would have covered the bill for any university he wanted to attend. I needed my brothers to be successful and happy.

  Boston had been my safe haven, as far away from California as I could get. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since I graduated high school and I didn’t plan on starting again anytime soon. I wasn’t sure she knew where I was. God knew if she had ever even tried to pick up a phone to contact me.

  Pulling myself out of my little trip down memory lane, I started walking back towards the modest apartment I shared with Andrew, my best friend and business partner.

  Our freshman year, we were roommates in the dorms and stumbled upon a pretty kick-ass (and innovative) website idea. I had the brains and the tech skills and he had the money.

  We sold our real estate pioneer site this spring for an obscene amount of money and moved on to the next project. Even though I could have, after that deal, I had no plans of dropping out of college. I still wanted to become a lawyer. It was a way to prove myself to the world; to prove my ability to myself.

  My mind wandered back to Fenway Park just a few short nights ago. When I had found myself turning around and looking at Charlotte’s body, repeatedly. Thinking about how her curves would feel underneath me in bed. How her lips would feel pressed against mine. What exactly would my next move be?

  “Hey Bentley, let’s go over to Quincy for some grub!” Andrew yelled from his bedroom snapping me out of my daydream about my newest fantasy, Charlotte Windsor.

  I knew who she was because I’d seen her on campus, in the local papers and at the occasional party, but I never had the balls -- or enough interest -- to say anything to her. That was, until the game at Fenway.

  While I watched her with her friends, my opinion changed. I always thought she was one of those uptight, snobby socialite bitches. But when she was at the game, I realized I had been completely wrong about her. She was just a normal girl.

  As the game heated up, I couldn’t stop glancing back at Charlie, thinking of what I wanted to do to her. Before that night, my thoughts of her included something like bending her over and fucking her senseless before sending her on her way into the night. Sitting on the third baseline at Fenway, I was taken aback when my mind flashed with intimate moments unlike anything I had ever thought before; romance, flowers, candles... all that bullshit from the movies filled my thoughts. Laying her down in my bed and tasting every inch of her skin. God I bet her pussy tastes amazing. That was the kind of stuff she deserved, at least in my mind.

  Charlotte Windsor was a challenge that I wanted to take on.

  “Bentley! Dude... snap out of it! Let’s go!” Drew barked again.

  “Sorry, I’m …” my voice trailed off as I tried to find the words I was looking for.

  “I know, that girl has you all sorts of fucked up,” Drew laughed, grabbing his wallet and cell phone before making his way to the door.

  As we sat down to devour our lunches, Drew looked at me like he wanted to laugh in my face. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “So, what are you going to do?” He asked me. I knew he was referring to the situation with Charlie. I couldn’t answer him because I didn’t even know myself.

  “I have no idea dude. What do you think I should do?”

  “I think you should throw yourself into it. Let go of your sketchy fear of women. But, that’s just me.” Drew looked at me and shoved a hand full of French fries into his mouth without an ounce of grace.

  “I’m going to have to think about this... spend some more time with her and see where it goes on its own.” But in reality my infatuation was beyond seeing where things were going.

  I decided then and there to be open, but not a doormat. There had to be more to life than one-night stands, baseball and booze. I had to set limits for myself. Things could easily get out of control and I needed to be in control at all times. I blamed the chaos of my childhood for turning me into a control freak. I flashed back to thoughts of my mother again, drunk and passed out on the couch in nothing but her underwear. She would stumble home from the bar with whatever new fling she had for the night and use the living room as her own personal Motel 6 while we tried to sleep. I could always hear them. The panting, drunk men demanding my mother get on her knees or talking about how good of a fuck she was. That is, until they were done, of course.

  They would get up and walk out, treating her like a piece of discarded trash. That would always cue her inevitable meltdown and the knockdown, drag-out fight. She was always stupid enough to think she was more than a good lay. Sad to think that way of your own mother, but these
men are the ones who taught me how to treat women. Those guys had a steady stream of commitment-free good times focused around whatever alcohol-infused fuck fest they had planned for the night.

  It wasn’t how I wanted to be, it was just the life I had grown to know thanks to my douche-bag mother and her revolving door of men who didn’t treat her right. I wanted to change; to be a better man. My chest swelled slightly at the thought of Charlotte being the person to show me how.

  My life was complicated. I was damaged, but weren’t we all fucked up in some way? We all had demons in our closets. Mine just happened to focus around not being able to count on the women in my life and a fucked up idea of how to treat those women. With Charlotte, I could almost picture having that white, picket fence family that I always wanted when I saw the other kids at school with their parents. I wondered if I was too damaged to have a normal relationship. I hope not.

  My biggest question to myself was why? Where had all these foreign feelings come from? They had crept up on me and hit me like a fucking freight train in the middle of the third baseline.

  Chapter 3

  School’s Out For Summer

  (Charlotte)

  As I finished up a couple of corrections on my last final exam of the week, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it so I could finally be done with this exam. For some reason, this semester seemed longer than any other in my three years here at Boston U. Maybe it was all the damn dating drama with the asshole from the Pi Kappa Alpha house, Ian. Just thinking about him pissed me off.

  Hell, he was still a giant thorn in my ass. He simply didn’t understand what the word no meant. I was over him trying to stick his dick in me any time he had one too many drinks. We broke up in March right after some fancy frat dance they had at his house, where he berated me for not putting out in front of oh say, four hundred people. I had never been so embarrassed in my entire life.