Southpaw Read Online Free Page B

it.
    “The quintessential
non-date?” She stops again, narrows her eyes, and puts her hand back on her
hip. “You promise? I hate men who are liars.”
    “Looks like you already
started our non-date,” I reply with a killer grin.
    “Bye ladies, see you
next week,” she says to a pair of brown ponytails walking by. She turns back to
me. “Tomorrow night. Wingra Boats. Six o’clock. ”
    “Wingra Boats. Six. You
got it.” I’m about to ask for her number, but she turns to leave.
    “Don’t be late,” she
calls over her shoulder as she walks down the hall.
    “Where can I pick you
up?” I yell back.
    “Nowhere. I’ll meet you
there.”
    Her hips knock back and
forth in the tight black pants, showcasing every single curve of her toned
body. I feel an elbow in my ribs and Piper’s presence next to me, but I can’t
take my eyes off Olivia walking away from me.
    And then she’s gone. I
don’t have her number, but I don’t care because I have something better. A
non-date.

 
    Chapter 3
     
    I’ve never been stood up by a girl, but
it’s happening right now. I slip my phone out of my pocket one last time: 6:17.
I’ve been standing on this damn dock for more than twenty minutes. I never wait
for anyone, ever, but I’m still standing here waiting for this girl and her
smile and eating the exact words that I said to her yesterday: There’s a
first for everything .
    Piper was right. I
shouldn’t have been so smug leaving the yoga studio without her number. I
shouldn’t have trusted that things would work out easily. ‘Always get a
number,’ Piper scolded in a condescending voice. She has experience, both with
condescending and making decisions that alter life courses. She didn’t leave
Cash Rowland her number the day her father forced her to move to Madison when
she was seventeen. Piper hasn’t seen him for over four years, even though they
live only two hours away. She claims she’s leaving it up to the universe to see
if they belong together. I think she’s full of shit and too scared to deal with
the past that pulled them apart. Not that I have anything bold to say about
shady pasts.
    I turn away from the
parking lot and back to the open waters of Wingra Lake. The water’s still
colder than a witch’s tit this time of year, but we Badgers are foolishly
optimistic about summer and the temperatures of our lakes. Hell, it’s probably
only seventy degrees out right now, and I’m sweating in a pair of shorts and
t-shirt. I start envisioning Olivia in a swimsuit, again , and surrender
to staying for one more minute. I think about how she chose this as our first
date, or non-date. Usually, it’s just dinner and drinks and then my place. Or
on a good night, drinks and then my place. Or on an even better night, just my
place.
    But the blonde staying
on my couch has thrown a wrench in that operation for the last ten weeks. The
first time I tried to bring a girl home, Piper banged on my door until I
couldn’t bang no more. Hell, I was in a dry spell, and things are getting dryer
each day.
    I try to ignore this
fact and take stock of the rainbow of paddleboards lining the dock. A guy half my
size comes toward me and picks up a paddle from a plastic barrel and says,
“You’ve been standing here for a while. Do you need some help or something?”
    He’s a freckled ginger
with a pimply face in his late teens. Something about the way he asked if I
needed help hits me the wrong way. He stares at me breathing through his mouth
like the little shit he is. I’m about to break his goddamn paddle in two when a
voice like honey cuts through my ear.
    “I’m so glad you could
make it,” she says. I turn to see Olivia in a white, see-through dress that
accentuates a black swimsuit beneath. She’s got a bag slung over her shoulder,
walking casually toward me like she isn’t a minute late. I look back at the
swimsuit beneath the dress and decide the wait was worth every second. After
all, I’m in a dry spell. Dr.