So Over You by Gwen Hayes Read Free Book Online Page B

Testosteronelandia between the two boys. I’d never seen Foster like this.
    Dean pushed back and Foster let go. As Dean brushed off his clothes, he answered, “The date just started. We’ve got an hour.”
    “I don’t think you do.” Foster planted his feet so that he was between Dean and me. “I think the date is over now.”
    This new Foster surprised me. I suppose he looked taller because of the skates, but he also looked more menacing than I remembered. And trust me—roller skates don’t usually up the intimidating quota for guys.
    Which of course meant that Dean had to ante in his most threatening pose. “I’m not on a date with you, Foster. So back off.”
    The boys took a step ( roll? ) closer to each other and turned all kinds of primal-looking. The shock of it snapped me out of my earlier meltdown and into fix-it mode because if I didn’t do something fast, there was going to be a fight.
    “Foster.” I reached for his sleeve.
    With his other hand, he pointed to Dean. “What part of not touching her was unclear in the contract?”
    “Relax. I wasn’t groping her. I was keeping her from falling on her ass.”
    “Hey!” I blurted. Well, he had a point. Still, I needed to call a halt to the fight about to happen.
    Despite not recognizing the song that was playing, I clutched Foster’s arm. “Oh my God! I love this song. Let’s skate.”
    He didn’t come willingly at first, but I tugged hard enough that he got the point. We stumbled toward the opening in the rink wall, mostly because he refused to lose eye contact with Dean and half walked, half rolled backward as Dean strolled backward out the door.
    I’d never pretended to understand testosterone.
    As soon as my wheels touched the smooth floor, I worried that I’d made a huge mistake. I should have let them fight it out while I put my shoes back on instead. Foster held me up for a few seconds until I found my center. We started rolling without speaking until I felt myself falling back into place, piece by piece. Like riding a bike, to overuse a cliché, something a good reporter is never supposed to do.
    “Why are you here tonight?” I asked. The roller rink wasn’t really high on places Foster would like to spend time now that he wasn’t thirteen.
    “You’re welcome, of course,” he answered.
    “No, really. Why?”
    “I’ve gone on all your dates.”
    My lovely rhythm suddenly faltered. “What? Why?”
    “For times like tonight.” Foster put his hand out to catch my fall, just in case. “Look, I know you get off casting me as the bad guy in your little dramas, and most of the time I’m happy play the part. That doesn’t mean I’d let you go out with twelve strangers without backup.”
    As my mind whirled into action, my motor skills kicked in and I was able to fall into the easy gliding of my youth. Because I couldn’t concentrate on my feet and my mortification at the same time. He’d been on every date? “Where? How?”
    “Usually in the manager’s office. I stay out of the way. Before you ask, I didn’t tell you because I was hoping it wouldn’t be necessary. I figured you might be self-conscious if you knew someone was watching—”
    “Spying.”
    “Watching.”
    We cruised another loop with no words. I was just fresh out of them.
    I don’t think I’d been at the roller rink for more than half an hour, but I felt like I’d been put through one of those old-fashioned wringers they used to use to wash clothes. At some point, I was going to have to apologize to Dean for turning all wacky on him and letting my partner cause a fight, but I didn’t want to think of that at the moment. Nor did I want to dwell on my little episode brought on by the smell of the whiskey on Dean’s breath.
    That left either how I felt about Foster going caveman when I felt threatened or the bittersweet nostalgia I was feeling for days of yore.
    Neither were safe zones.
    “This place hasn’t changed much.” Foster’s gaze swept over