#bobbymichelle

Michelle pulled her car over to the side of the road and put it in park. She looked across the way to the sheer drapes barely attempting to hide the view inside and saw that she’d been right.

Bobby S. was indeed Bobby Sanders, star hockey player of U. of Indiana, recently injured on the ice and now stuck at home with his parents who were presumably out for the night.

She’d been at the game the previous Friday, melting every time his face was on the big screen.

So, she had a crush on a fellow jock – so what?

Her heart had dropped when she saw him collide with an opponent on the ice. And then when he didn’t move after being trampled over on the rink? When the other players had to circle around to make sure he was still conscious and get him off the ice?

That’s when she knew it was bad.

That he wouldn’t be in any more games that season maybe, and that a trip to the hospital might be in order.

She just hoped he would be okay.

From what she could see through the window, it seemed he was. Or as well as he could be. He was playing video games in what had to be the living room, but he was also perched in an arm chair with his casted leg up on a cushioned stool.

She looked at the pizza bag on the passenger seat of her car and the abandoned Pizzaro’s Pizza hat beside it. She sighed and flipped her hair over her shoulder before slipping the hat back on and getting out of the car. She rounded the vehicle and opened the other door to retrieve the bag and carry it to the front door.

She wished he didn’t have to get up. It couldn’t be easy, especially since he couldn’t have been on crutches long. But if the door was locked, and he was determined to get to said door, there was nothing she could do about it. She was just the pizza girl.

She would bring it inside for him though, if he asked. It was the least she could do really. She might not be in college for anything in the medical field, but she’d half-raised her baby sister when their mom got sick. Her maternal instincts still went into high gear when she saw someone in need of aid.

Just in case someone else was home, though she didn’t see another vehicle, she rang the doorbell.

She heard him curse from inside and scramble to get to his crutches and inch out of his chair. She couldn’t see him from the door, but she could imagine with all the noises he was making how difficult it must be for him to even get out of his seat.

“Is the door unlocked?” she called out. “I can bring it in if-”

“No, no, I’m coming! I’m coming!” he answered her, trying to raise his voice as he struggled with his crutches.

What felt like a millennia later, the sound of the door unlocking could be heard, and the door swung open.

“Holy shit.”

“Hi.”

They spoke at once, and she could see he wasn’t even hiding checking her out. He seemed stunned to see her, and stunned even more so that a pizza girl could look like her.

It was flattering to be sure, and she feared she might cave to any advances he made instead of playing hard to get like she’d been planning to if her attraction to him was reciprocated.

He was just as hot in person just a few feet away from her, even with his hair a hot mess and his clothes disheveled from trying to maneuver his way from one room to the over.

“H-Hi,” he said, after a beat, after cursing at the sight of her. “Sorry. Uhm…can you bring it in? I can’t really…” he trailed off, looking down at his crutches by way of explanation.

“Of course,” she said. “You just tell me where.”

“Okay. Just let me…” He sighed and slowly turned around, moving his crutches with him and slowly catching his balance so that he didn’t fall when he got out of the hallway and made his way back into the living room.

Or, he almost did. But just as he was about to sit back down, he turned to look at her and completely missed the chair, tumbling down onto the floor with his crutches falling in opposite directions.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit.”

“Shit,” Michelle echoed his sentiment.

She set down the pizza bag on the stool meant for his injured leg and bent down to help him up.

“Are you okay? Can you move?”

“This is pathetic,” he whined.

“It’s not pathetic. You need help. You can’t walk.” She huffed as she helped him back up on his feet and held tight to him till he got back in the chair.

“Can barely stand,” he muttered.

She stood straight, hands on her hips, and shook her head.

“Where are your parents?”

“What, you think I still live with my parents?”

She raised an eyebrow, then waited.

“They went out shopping for food.”

“So, you ordered a pizza?” she blanched.

“I was hungry! They take forever when they go shopping.”

The look on her face seemed to indicate he was acting like a child, and he relented.

“It’s only temporary, till I heal up.”

“That could take eight weeks,” she informed him, and he blinked.

“Wait, how do y-”

“I was at the game last Friday,” she explained. “I saw you get injured on the ice.”

“Oh.”

She sat on the stool next to the pizza bag, then pulled out the pizza box and set it on his lap.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she said softly.

He scoffed and shook his head.

“Yeah, I just made a fool of myself in front of the hottest girl I’ve ever seen in my life, but sure, I’m okay.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and tried not to blush.

“Well, I should get going. I have other orders to deliver.”

She got two steps away before he called out to her.

“Wait!”

She turned around.

“Could you…? I mean, if you wouldn’t mind?”

And he gestured to his injured leg, still propped on the floor and presumably immovable.

Not part of my job description, she thought, but then she’d done more than her share as a pizza delivery girl already. And truly she didn’t mind. If he wasn’t injured, she’d be making some advances of her own.

“Sure.”

She crouched down near the floor and cradled his leg in her palms.

“You ready?”

He sucked in a breath and nodded.

“Okay, here we go.”

Very gently, she lifted his leg up onto the cushioned stool and released it so it was comfortably situated.

“Good?”

“Yeah.” He sighed in relief. “Thanks.” He gave her a look-over again, but this time it was more gauging for her reaction than checking her out. “You go to U of Indiana too? I haven’t seen you around.”

She smirked.

“I’m on the basketball court most nights when I’m not studying. I only make it out of the sorority house for the hockey games.”

“You’re a regular.” He smiled slowly, and she hoped her hat was hiding some of her blush.

“I come for you,” she blurted, and there went all her playing it safe right out the window.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “Well, I hope you’ll still go, even if I’m not there. We could use the support.”

“I might need some convincing,” she flirted, figuring what the hell, go all in.

His blue eyes sparkled.

“I’m very good at the art of persuasion.”

Now she felt flustered.

She cleared her throat.

“Uh, the money?”

He paled and then blushed fiercely.

“Oh, I didn’t mean-”

“For the pizza,” she deadpanned.

He laughed awkwardly.

“Right.” He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact to point out the cash. “It’s on the table where we first came in. You can keep the change. For all your assistance.”

Michelle turned and walked toward the table.

“It’s no trouble, but thanks.”

She shoved the cash in the apron around her waist and then turned to retrieve her bag.

“Hope I didn’t offend you,” he said quickly when she bent down to his line of vision.

“Not at all.”

She swept her hair over her shoulder again.

“Enjoy your pizza. And get better soon.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose as she straightened.

“Name?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“What’s your name?”

“You know it,” she said.

“I do?”

“You were staring right at the name tag on my shirt.”

He blinked, and she saw the pink start to flare up his cheeks again.

“It’s Michelle,” she enunciated for him, and he swallowed.

“Oh-Okay. Michelle. That’s nice.”

She smirked and made her way out of the house.

“Guess you were looking at something else!” she shouted down the hall.

Bobby groaned in embarrassment but couldn’t help himself as he turned to watch her through the see-through drapes. Once she got to the car, she looked right at him and waved, and he quickly turned away.

“Hell,” he muttered. “Michelle.”

And the sound of the car’s engine roared to life, then grew fainter as she drove away.

He took a bite of the pizza and moaned appreciatively, hardly noticing at first the message written on the pizza box lid.

Get well soon, Bobby.

He groaned. He’d never live this first impression down.

But he knew he wouldn’t forget her, and he’d call for pizza a lot more often, and a certain pizza girl to deliver too.

Michelle.

He smiled warmly, and then his eyes darkened with lust, remembering how she had looked and how she’d looked at him.

In the end, I didn’t just escape all the terrible circumstances closing in around me, I disappeared. Not for days, much longer than that. Forever. And I really committed to the act, cut myself off from all social media, all presence even to my family. No one could know or I might be reeled back in, threatened, suffered a fate worse than death. I almost had to flee the country and stay gone. And for a while I did. I really escaped. Got myself into the tropics and let loose.

Being unemployed could only last so long however, living the lifestyle I was living, even if I’d once said money wasn’t everything. It was some things. And you know what else was important? A job I was passionate about. A girl I was crazy in love with.

I liked to say it’s not about what you have but what you lose. But what if it’s both? What if you lose what you treasure most only to gain it back again but on your terms?

And that’s how I ended up on Michelle’s turf again, leaning against the doorjamb to her office where I knew she was flourishing despite not having even opened my mouth yet. She was good at her job when she didn’t even like it, and she was excited for this job. In fact, there was a part of me that wondered if she’d even need me or want me anymore. It had been two months since we’d last seen each other.

I tried to shove it down with the knowledge that I couldn’t see any pictures on her desk, or a wedding or engagement ring on her finger. Maybe two months wasn’t all that long after all.

I knock lightly on the wooden frame, and she looks up at me from across the room, and god, it’s like I’m seeing her for the first time all over again. Every moment with her, every memory, comes back to me in a rush. Our first kiss, first fuck, first meeting of the minds, first game of HORSE, first time I saw her face on my desktop computer, and my whole anatomy shut down.

I’d never seen someone so beautiful in my life.

The seduction in her innocent, intelligent, all-knowing eyes was always present, always a threat to me maintaining my sanity. I’d gladly lose it to her. And suddenly the threat of a GM job leading to marriage didn’t seem so bad. Who wouldn’t want to spend the rest of their days with this crazy-clever, gorgeous goddess? I would.

Only two months without her, and I knew I didn’t want another day to go by without that telling smirk on her lips in my direction, her gaze over her shoulder, luring me in, her just being herself and pushing me off a cliff. What a way to go.

“Bobby,” she says, and I can see the surprise on her face but also her fighting the smile quickly taking over her angelic features.

Oh, yeah. There’s no one else.

An insane amount of confidence boosts me to push off the doorjamb and walk over to her, slip my hands in my pockets and stand behind the chair opposite hers.

“Hi, Michelle.”

“What are y-”

“I took the GM job.”

She blinks, and I can see her eyes welling up. It hits me now how crushed she must’ve been when I said no the first time around, and worse, when I said nothing when she first presented the idea to me. I’m a fucking loser for not jumping at it, jumping at any chance to be with her. Especially when the job she found just for me involved my first passion, and truth be told, a passion that had never really died. I was a fucking idiot.

She stands up now, blinks away tears that it’s clear she’s surprised surfaced and shakes her head, folding her arms.

“I don’t understand. I thought-”

“I took care of it,” I shrug with a smirk.

She stares at me in a shock for a while, then the shock ricochets off her face to mind when she next speaks up.

“I tried calling…” she trails off, and I wonder when.

“I went off the grid after I blew up Masterson’s life.”

Her eyes widen and then relax. She smiles appreciatively.

“Meet anyone interesting while you were off disappearing?”

My lips twitch. Jealousy looks good on her.

“No one worth mentioning,” I say, and it’s true.

I saw her face on every woman I tried to get lost in. I couldn’t get it up either, knowing no other woman could compare, so I wasn’t about to embarrass myself that way.

“You?” I ask, trying to hide the insecurity that keeps attempting to rise to the surface.

I make my way around the chair, the desk, till I’m standing right there beside her and she’s looking into my eyes the same way I’m looking into hers, a desperate plea for validation and acceptance and wanting.

“Maybe,” she says ominously, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” I nearly squeak but keep my voice level.

“I might mention my new co-workers in passing…” she trails off again, reaching out to drag her fingers down my arms until they pull my hands free of pockets and are intertwining with hers.

“In passing?”

“At dinner tonight.”

I raise my eyebrows, pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, dinner.”

“After I beat your ass in another game of HORSE.”

“And where would we go to play that?” I ask, inching closer, leaning in at the same time she does.

“This place has a rooftop too,” she murmurs, and then our lips collide.

She wraps my arms around her, settling them on her waist, but I shamelessly lower them to her ass and squeeze affectionately, urgently, passionately as she pulls me in, gripping my hair like it’s a lifeline and sliding one hand down my back so we’re flush up against each other.

I’ve missed this. Missed her.

And suddenly moving in together some months down the line doesn’t seem all that bad. Seems pretty fucking fantastic actually.

“I still want to hear that steel siding bit before you leave again,” she says, breaking apart when we both need the air. She doesn’t say it like she’s afraid I’ll slip out of her life when it’s convenient, but we both feel the gravity of what-if.

“Not going anywhere,” I say, then kiss her again, once, sweetly, then smile. “But okay.”

I lose at HORSE again that afternoon and end up in her bed with takeout for dinner. It won’t be the last time, and I’m nowhere close to admitting that I lose on purpose every time to give her a high, and so her prize can be getting laid and a free meal from me.