Third Base (The Boys of Summer, #1)(24)
“That’s just it, Mom. We haven’t even kissed. I’ve held her hand, and that’s it. I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”
“And I’m sure she appreciates your efforts.”
Well, I’m glad someone does because my freaking Johnson doesn’t appreciate anything I’m trying to do. He’s constantly carrying a semi each time she’s around – but this is all shit I can’t say to my mom.
“Oh Ethan, it sounds like you’ve really fallen for this girl and I can guess from what you’re telling me that this is different from your relationship with Sarah. To answer your question, I just knew. Everything will just feel right, from the tips of your fingers to the end of your toes, every bone in your body will gravitate towards her. Your father was my every thought. He still is, even today.”
“Right now, Daisy is my every thought.”
“Daisy,” my mom sighs when she says her name. “I like that name.”
Me too, and I’ve been trying to come up with a nickname for her, but nothing seems to fit. I thought about calling her D, but then my jackass teammates would be saying shit like “She wants the D”. It’s funny but crude. I don’t think she’ll appreciate it too much.
Before my mom and I hang up, I tell her about my plans for tonight and promise to send her a photo of us all dressed up. She asks me to tell Daisy ‘hi’ for her and even though I agree, it’s not gonna happen. It’s far too early to bring parental units into our relationship.
The team has sent a car and driver for tonight. I couldn’t be happier because that means I can focus my attention on Daisy when she gets in the car. I thought about driving to her neighborhood after she gave me her address, but figured she’d catch me and it’d piss her off. She’s embarrassed by where she lives and I don’t know how to convey to her that shit like that doesn’t bother me.
As we drive, I’m constantly looking at my watch. I want to see how far she lives from me. I don’t know why it’s important except that I have a great amount of hope that she’s going to be spending a lot of time at my house and I want to know how long it’ll take me to drive her home every night.
Seven minutes. That is how long it took us to get from my house to hers.
“Is this it?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Yes, sir,” he says as he looks at the GPS mounted on his dashboard. I look around and nothing screams low income. I don’t know what she was going on about the other night, but this looks like a place I’d live in.
“Alright,” I say, as I get out of the car. I contemplated buying her a corsage, but felt like that would be overkill and more like prom. I did, however, buy her a birthday cake in hopes that she and I can have a little celebration tonight after the dinner.
As I approach the door I notice a keypad. I drag my finger down the names, looking for Robinson, but don’t see it. I step back and look at the address before pulling out my phone to match it with the address she sent to me. As I unlock the screen I notice a message from her. Shit, she wants me to call her so she’ll come down, instead of me going up to her door. I don’t like that it isn’t as personal as meeting her at her door, but I’m left with no choice.
I start to dial when I see an elderly woman with almost blue hair and a cane walk out.
“Hi, excuse me. My name’s Ethan Davenport and I’m here to escort Miss Daisy Robinson to the Boston Rotary dinner tonight. Do you happen to know which apartment is hers?”
She eyes me up and down before lifting her cane. I think for a moment that she’s about to beat the shit out of me until the driver of my car steps out.
“Are you going to hurt her?”
“No, ma’am,” I say, shaking my head. I still have a feeling she’s going to hurt me. I keep that thought to myself though. It’s a fear I have. Daisy’s been closed off. She’s held back even though I’ve pushed. She’s going into this relationship with an advantage over me. I’m a public figure but she’s an enigma.
“You’ll find Daisy in Three C, but if you hurt her...” She trails off, pointing her cane at me and huffing before walking down the street. I nod to the driver that I’m okay as I step inside the building. The hall smells like urine and there are kids screaming at the end of the hall. A wooden staircase is off to the right, with built in mailboxes on the left. I walk down the hall, hoping the elevator is in service, but as my luck would have it, it’s not today.
“Three flights of stairs in a tux, no problem.” I take the steps two at time. The second floor gives me a long hallway to walk down before I have to climb the next set of steps. This floor smells better, but is messy. There are toys in the hallway and one resident has their door decorated for the holidays, which are still eight months away.
When I reach the third floor I stand straighter and fix my bow tie. I hate that I’m empty-handed and should’ve asked my mom what to bring that wouldn’t be considered stupid and over the top. My stroll to her door is casual with my hands in my pockets to help control the twitching.
The black C is mocking me as I stand in front of it, poised to knock. My knuckles wrap on the door twice before I lean against the doorjamb, trying to play it cool. A flash of black catches my eye as the door swings open. I swallow hard when Daisy stands before me, as the fingers in my pocket pinch the shit out of my leg, trying to make my mouth work.