The Boyfriend League Read online

  I didn’t know what possessed me to say, “I actually have all the columns I’ve written in a binder. You can borrow it if you’re interested.”

  “My own summer reading program?”

  “Something like that,” I said, suddenly more self-conscious than ever.

  I wasn’t usually one to toot my own horn, which could also explain the no-boyfriend-status of my life. If bright plumage was the key, I was closer to being a brown wren. Except for last night, and I’d certainly gotten attention then.

  “Yeah, I’d like to read it,” he said. “I can’t remember the last time I read for fun.”

  “Was Marley and Me required reading for a class?”

  He grinned. “No, but that was months ago.” He looked thoughtful. “That was probably the last thing, actually.”

  The steam kettle went off. I poured the water into an authentic Victorian teapot and carried it to the table.

  Jason got up as I sat down. I almost laughed, because in a way it was comical.

  “I’m gonna go run,” he said.

  “You can use Dad’s treadmill if you want, so you can at least stay inside where it’s air-conditioned.”

  “Your dad has a treadmill?”

  I got up. “Oh, yeah. And an elliptical trainer, and…well, you name it, and he probably has it. Remember when I told you Mom’s New Year’s resolution is to cook healthier? Dad’s is always to get into shape. The first week in January, he renews his membership at the gym and he goes three nights a week. By the end of the month, he’s decided he’d have more time to exercise if he bought some new equipment for the house, so he could eliminate the drive time to the gym. By the middle of February, he’s using it to hang his clothes.”

  “Are you serious?” Jason asked.

  “Just wait. You’ll see.”

  I led him through the house to my parents’ bedroom, to the sitting area, or what used to be the sitting area, before Dad decided to get into shape a few years ago. I snatched a couple of shirts and a tie off the machines. “Knock yourself out.”

  “You sure they won’t mind me being in their…bedroom?”

  “You’re not technically in their bedroom. You’re in the sitting area or the faux exercise place, since Dad never really exercises here. But anyway, they won’t mind. Make yourself at home.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel right.”

  “Want me to exercise with you?”

  He looked at me like it was a trick question. I wasn’t even certain why I’d suggested it. “I can do the elliptical trainer while you do the treadmill.”

  “I guess that would work. Then I wouldn’t feel so much like I was intruding on their space.”

  “Okay, give me two minutes to get some sneakers on.”

  By the time I got back, he was already running, working up a sweat. He had really firm legs. I figured he did a lot of running.

  It didn’t take me long to get going on the elliptical trainer. It always reminded me of cross-country skiing because basically I was moving my feet back and forth, holding on to the handles like ski poles, watching the miles go by.

  I’d gone about two miles, after forty-five minutes, when Jason finally went into cool-down mode.

  “A lot better than running outside,” he said, breathless.

  “That was Dad’s theory behind getting the equipment, but as you can see, he found other uses for it.”

  Jason laughed. “If your dad is really serious about getting into shape, I could help get him on a program. You know, ask him to work out with me.”

  “For any exercise program to work, doesn’t the person have to be self-motivated? I mean, doesn’t Dad need to take the first step?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He took a gulp from his water bottle, then wiped a hand towel over his face.

  “So you think it’s okay if I use the equipment every morning?” he asked.

  “Oh, sure. Mom and Dad are usually out of the house by eight.” And I’d add exercising to my morning routine, so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable being in their bedroom. It was the good hostess thing to do.

  “What about the backyard stuff?” he asked.

  “What about it?”

  “Is it okay if I use it, too?”

  “Oh, sure. The equipment is in a metal shed in the back. Just help yourself. It’s not locked or anything. And if you want company, just let me know. I’ll be happy to play with you.”

  Did I just say that? I did not just say that. Like we were six years old and heading for a sandbox.

  He was grinning again, like he thought it was funny or stupid or I was having a Tiffany moment.

  “I didn’t mean play with you exactly,” I said. “I meant…you know, keep you company so you don’t feel awkward…you know, like I exercised with you.”

  “I’ll be okay alone in the backyard.” He stepped off the treadmill. “I’m going to go shower.”

  He waited a heartbeat, like he expected me to say I’d be happy to keep him company in the shower, too.

  Fortunately, my brain finally kicked in, and I kept my mouth shut.

  I watched him walk out of the room. I thought I’d known everything that would be involved in having a baseball player living with us for the summer.

  I was discovering that I didn’t have a clue.

  Chapter 14

  “I knew Mac was interested in you,” Bird said late the next morning.

  We were at Stonebridge Mall. Having decided the concert Sunday night would be our first official summer dates, we wanted new outfits to mark the occasion.

  “But was he interested before Wednesday night?” I asked.

  “What are you asking?”

  “I was a Tiffany clone.”

  “I don’t get what you’re saying. He talked to you the night we went out for pizza.”

  “I know, but he didn’t ask me out then. As a matter of fact, he was more interested in learning about free and cheap stuff than learning about me.”

  “He smiled at you during the first game. Remember? From the batter’s box?”

  “How do you know it was me? It could have been you. Or my dad, even. The stands were packed.”

  He’d done the same thing at last night’s game, which they’d won, whenever he first got into the batter’s box. I was beginning to wonder if maybe it was his good-luck ritual.

  Bird stopped walking and faced me. “What do you want? He asked you out. You have a date. A real chance at a boyfriend.”

  I guess I wanted it to feel like it was a real chance. But it just didn’t.

  “You’re thinking about it too much, Dani,” Bird said. “He likes you. You like him.”

  An awful thought occurred to me. “You didn’t tell him to ask me out, did you?”

  “Of course not. Now will you stop worrying about it and start worrying about what you’re going to wear Sunday? We don’t have a lot of time if we’re going to the game tonight.”

  Actually, we had quite a bit of time. The nice thing about the Lonestar League was that even the out-of-town games were nearby, within a short driving distance, sometimes no more than half an hour away.

  “We’re definitely going to the game tonight,” I said.

  “Jason will probably pitch,” Bird said.

  “I hope so.” He hadn’t last night. I really wanted to see him in action.

  “Oh, look at these shoes,” Bird said. “Aren’t they to die for?”

  They were fuchsia sequined sandals with a wide platform and four-inch heels.

  “I’ve gotta have them,” she said, zipping into the store.

  “What will you wear them with?” I asked, following after her.

  “I’ll find something.”

  I loved that about Bird. When I went shopping with Tiffany, she never bought anything unless she knew exactly what she was going to wear with it. Bird bought things simply because she liked them.

  “You have to find something,” she said when the clerk went to get her shoes in a