Late Ch. 06

"SHIT!"

He pulled his key free and checked he had his wallet with him, before sprinting to the bus stop.

"Come on," he muttered.

He'd definitely not reach the field in time if it was by bus.

Maybe he should get a taxi?!

He resigned himself to waiting and going straight to her home to catch her after the game, restless energy zipping through his limbs as he adjusted himself on a bench that no matter how he sat, didn't get any more comfortable.

Five minutes.

Freddie glanced at his watch and wished he had just ordered a taxi.

Ten minutes.

The breeze seemed to be patting him on the forehead, as if congratulating him for being such an idiot.

Twenty minutes.

The bus that did eventually arrive was painfully slow, pulling up like it was driving through treacle, and Freddie jumped on so fast he dropped his wallet, scrabbling around for it before slapping a few dollars on the side.

When he fell into a seat, he couldn't make it more comfortable no matter how he sat on it.

The drive there was the opposite of a blur, the buildings stationary, the roads longer, every stop light making him want to grab the steering wheel, every tiny line of traffic making him wish he were in an armoured vehicle so they could plough through everyone.

Whenever he looked at the faces that crossed the road in front of him, it seemed as if they were goading, mocking him with their indifference.

"OH comeon, comeon, comeon..."

A lifetime passed before the mini car-park wove into view.

'FINALLY.'

He slammed the breaks, or would have if he had any control over the situation, instead running to the door and jabbing the stop button in frustration as the bus continued on.

"Hey can you let me out here?!"

"Designated stops only," came a bored-sounding voice.

Fred gripped the handrail tight, foot tapping faster and faster as he watched the house disappear behind them, throwing an exasperated glance at the serenely uninterested driver.

After a painful two minutes, the bus begrudgingly pulled up at the next stop.

"FInally," Fred grunted as he threw himself clear and began high-tailing it back the way they had come, lungs heaving in air for the sprint.

He huffed as the pavement seemed to stretch in front of him. The distance had seemed so much shorter in the bus....

He pounded the tarmac, wind at his back, forcing him on towards his destination.

Soon, legs aching, he was rushing to the front entrance of the rather modern-looking building, thankful that the downstairs door was open, flying through it and ascending the stairs so fast that his knees were shaking.

When he reached the first floor, the last door on the left suddenly seemed a mile away.

He slowed to a walk, lungs bursting, and realised he had no idea what he was going to say.

'Just... Check she's okay....'

He took a deep breath.

One step at a time.

'Yeah. I'll just check she's okay... maybe tell her about Terry's problems, leave it with her, and that's all.'

Five.

'Maybe she doesn't want to see me..?'

Four.

The hallway light flickered a little above his head.

Three.

'No, it'll be fine.'

Two.

'Maybe this was a bad idea..'

One.

He stopped and, after a pause, rapped his knuckles three times on the white door.

For a moment there was silence, and then the latch scraped metal, and a crack in the door appeared, security chain jangling.

He glimpsed a large worn 'Wildcats' team hoodie with a hole on the right side which came down to the top of white thighs, subtle signs of stubble on the naked legs below it, and he caught a flash of dishevelled blond hair, plus a blue eye which immediately bugged out of its socket.

"Uh..... Hi?"

The door slammed closed.

He heard some thumping sounds, and then silence.

"Jane?"

After ten seconds he knocked again.

*Thnk-Thnk*

He tapped his foot, heart beating a little quicker as quiet clatters emanated from the back of the flat before footsteps made their way towards him.

When she answered the second time, security chain pulled aside, Jane was now wearing jeans and a V-neck t-shirt which showed a decent amount of cleavage, although she kept it tantalisingly just out of sight behind the door.

"Oh!"

It seemed as if she had put on some rough makeup too, a hint of lipstick overrunning the left corner of her mouth.

The tiny scratches on her cheek made the gorge rise in his throat.

"Oh... hi Fred."

He could tell she'd just tried to brush her hair. Either way it was impossible for her not to look beautiful.

"Jane...I saw you got hurt..."

She looked surprised, hiding her left side.

"I'm.... how do you know that.."

"Terry."

"Hm. Right.... Of course."

"So how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine...."

"If you're fine then show me."

She slid protectively further behind the door.

"I'm fine."

He stepped into the gap and squeezed through her token efforts to stop him, revealing the left arm propped against her body and covered in plaster.

Her right hung limply by her side, defeated.

Despite towering over him, she seemed strangely small.

"Jane..."

"Look, I told you I'm FINE."

"What HAPPENED?"

She groaned.

"I just... got into an accident, that's all."

"What accident??"

She huffed.

"Well, I was jogging up in the hills...dark.... no fluorescent gear... Car clipped me. Stupid."

"Clipped you? Jesus Momm-... JANE... is it uh?... um.... painful?"

Her eyes scanned him, and he was sure her chest had inflated slightly upon noticing his Freudian slip.

"No."

It was impossible not to notice that she was clearly not wearing a bra at that moment, the outline of her nipples making him lose his footing for a moment.

"R-really?.... Gosh Jane, I wish I'd..."

He jittered for a moment.

"...I wish you'd told me.... How bad is it then?"

He made to touch her arm and she jerked back, wincing as the movement brought an obvious glimmer of pain to her face.

"I-I'm fine, I went to the hospital, just a few broken bones.. they gave me a cast, and... I'm all good."

His gaze flicked to inside the appartement.

There were what looked like ice cream stains on the table near the TV, and branded tissues from a Japanese takeaway service that she hadn't managed to scramble out of view.

"Jane... Is uh... is everything alright?"

"With the softball team? Yeah, everything's fine."

"No, no I mean with you."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, flicking some blond out of her face.

"Uh, yeah... yeah everything is just great."

Her posture seemed quite defensive in that moment.

Suddenly something twigged in Fred's mind, and his eyes widened, realising what ice cream, tissues and takeaway might mean.

"Wait, is..... someone else here?"

Dizziness hit him at the thought, a noose wrapping around his neck as his eyes suddenly swept every inch of the room for a tuft of hair, a hint of clothing.

'She wouldn't.... but she might.... Who wouldn't want to date Jane? She's PERFECT..."'

As he craned his neck she responded quickly.

"NO, no no-one's here!"

Freddie's heart, which had gone from a thousand to a million beats per minute, started to come down from pumping itself to death.

"Right!... great..."

"Why?"

His lips were dry as he searched for a response.

"Uh... just... checking you're okay...."

Her lips curved into such a subtle upwards arch it was hard to say if it qualified as a smile.

"Well, like I said... I'm fine."

It brought warmth to his chest.

"I... Jane...."

"No really... I'm great... but thank you for coming to check on me."

She tried to look stern, but he could tell she didn't have the steel in her that she usually possessed.

He lost himself for a moment.

'God she looked beautiful'

Especially when she tried to hide her worries, the creases just above her nose, the thinning lips which tried to hide their fullness.

But then, she looked beautiful in any situation.

He fiddled with his shirt, and the words left his lips before he could pull them back in.

"Well... look, if you need anything..."

It seemed as if a frog was trying to escape her mouth, waving her hand.

"That's... that's sweet.... but, I'm all good, honestly...."

His throat was dry.

"Right.... how are you gonna coach?"

"Not for the foreseeable."

"Right... Well you'll have some... free time right?..."

They shared a painful, drawn-out moment, Freddie not wanting to leave, Jane wishing for the same, neither able to bring themselves to say it.

During the silence Fred couldn't help looking south, her now hardened nipples dragging his eyeballs towards breasts with their own gravitational pool, and he had to wrench his gaze around the room for anything that would mean he wasn't staring straight at the bazookas aimed at his face.

"Hey uh... nice."

He cocked his head, and Jane glanced up at the Red Cutter's basketball jersey suspended behind glass on the wall.

"Deshawn Kolu.... A little before your time, bitch.... BOY! Before your time boy..."

A pained look crossed her face, and Fred's heart twerked in his chest at the fact that she said his filthy nickname out loud.

Heat crept down from Fred's chest to his belly, threatening to go even further south.

'For the love of God... don't get riled up... just be casual...."

"Ha well... I'm more of a Darius Gunnings fan."

Her lips crept into a challenging smile.

"Wow, I thought you had better taste... everyone knows Deshawn Kolu was the real MVP back then."

"Oh yeah?? How come all I see are Gunnings highlights!"

Jane's eyebrow rose, and it seemed like the weight of the world left her shoulders for a moment.

"Because he calls himself 'the greatest' every time they shove a microphone in front of his hole.... Let me guess, you've been watching Last Shot right? I'll admit it's certainly entertaining, although I've heard it gets some of the facts a little awry ...."

He became animated, stepping closer.

"... Uh... I was planning to watch it, actually haven't got round to it yet!"

"Really? You have to, you'd love it! You know, I've got Netflix... if you wanted..."

The two of them locked eyes, and lost in his large pretty dishes with effeminate lashes she almost faltered for a second.

".... To... to watch it here.... Decent screen too....I mean not if you don't want to..... it's fine...."

Fred's ears pricked.

"Well uh.... That's.... Maybe one...."

"There's uh... there's popcorn as well...." Jane added, trying to sound casual as she drilled her memory for any enticements to help him stay. She wasn't even sure if she did have popcorn.

"... And I was going to watch it too anyway... I've seen the first episode... But I'd like to see it again..."

She didn't mention that she'd ploughed through the whole series.

Fred's eyes lingered on her breasts for a moment, and he blinked, turning the other way.

"I'm... I-if that's cool.. Sure..."

Jane's blood began roared in her ears, the hairs on her arms standing up.

"....Although I shouldn't stay too long after..."

"Sure, no problem, absolutely," babbled Jane, wishing her heart would stop beating so loudly as she attempted to vault from the couch to the kitchen area, wincing as it disturbed her left arm.

"Mhhnn!"

"Jane... Maybe you shouldn't run with-"

"Have a seat!" she called, a pained smile on her face, "If you want to!"

He watched in exasperation, placing himself on the couch, opposite where he had been fucked into a dick-drunk stupor.

Heat settled in his crotch.

'Maybe don't think about that.....'

Nonetheless the nerves rose up, and he pushed a little further from that side of the couch.

"Popcorn, popcorn.." Jane muttered under her breath, trying not to sound feverish as she wrenched cupboards and drawers open like she was robbing her own flat.

"I-it's no bother, if you can't find it....." called Fred as he watched her casing the kitchen, cupboard doors flying in a hail of bangs like an audio re-enactment of the civil war.

"NO, it's fine!" gasped Jane in a higher pitch than she had intended, "It's right here!!!"

Her arm rattled around the shelves, jars cast aside, and tins exhumed from their hiding places.

"H...HERE!"

She clutched a tattered popcorn kernel bag in her hand like it was an Olympic gold medal.

"R...right," said Fred, rather nonplussed at her out-of-breath power pose as she checked the instructions and threw the bag in the microwave.

"Three minutes...."

She jabbed the button and the microwave began to hum as Jane prayed for the kernels to rise.

Fred was already wandering how good an idea it was to stay as Jane gazed at the microwave like it contained a divine totem, worshipping the bag that was beginning to crackle and rise, bathed in golden light.

It was quite odd seeing someone usually so purposeful and in control wearing such a frantic smile, and when the ritual was completed he couldn't help a smile as she carefully eked the last dregs of the bag into a large bowl, some falling on the floor as she manoeuvred with her one good arm, and wove past the counter towards him, presenting it.

"Thanks," he said, a little touched at how hard she was trying as he accepted the bowl from her and settled down on the sofa.

It was kinda cute.

"You should remove your jacke...."

She stopped, remembering that she was not supposed to force any decisions on him.

".. I mean.. it's fine, whatever's comfortable.."

The last thing she wanted was for him to walk out of her life again.

Jane shut her lips tight, seating herself on the far side of the bowl, with her hand placed in her lap, back straight, up against the opposite arm of the couch like she was sat on a plane window seat next to an unsavoury individual.

His eyebrows rose after a few seconds as he realised she was quite content to sit there watching a blank screen, and he slid his hands over to the remote, at which point Jane seemed to come back to reality.

"AH, yes... of course, no you can....It's fine..."

Fred thought about suggesting that she should do it but decided not to push her into full panic mode, eyes a little wider than normal.

After a minute or so of fiddling 'The Last Shot' was loaded and ready to play.

"Are the lights too bright?" said Jane suddenly, jumping up and marching to the light switch.

"N-no it's f...."

The room was plunged into darkness, and Fred sighed as Jane felt her way back to the couch.

"..ine."

Jane seated herself, and Fred became aware that she had accidentally seated herself closer than before in the low light, right next to the popcorn.

'I guess that's no problem.....'

Then the documentary began, and both watchers began the process of fixing their eyeballs on the giant screen in front of them whilst every other sense attempted to grab a whiff, a taste, a hint of the other person sat within touching distance on the sofa, swathed in darkness and separated only by the width of a popcorn bowl.

Fred thought he could just catch her smell, the outdoorsy taste tinged with that floral perfume.

*In the eighties, only two players successfully dominated the game of basketball.... Deshawn Kolu, and Darius Gunnings....*

Jane snorted, her nostrils flaring.

"Sure Henderson, apart from the fact you wouldn't be able to tell an MVP from a college dropout."

"Shhhh," grinned Fred, aiming a tiny shove in her direction.

Jane felt the light push on her right shoulder and went warm, her crotch becoming intensely uncomfortable tucked underneath her.

'Oh .... Well that was probably inevitable.... I can't let Fred see it, but it'll be awful if I don't give it some room, I can't keep it underneath me for forty minutes...'

*WHAT A SCORE, THAT'S GUNNINGS AGAIN!*

She glanced at Fred and, once she was sure he was fixated on the screen, dipped her hand beneath the rim of her pants. A short shuffle and she moaned as the pressure released, now running down the inside of her trouser leg. It was much more comfortable having it clamped to her thigh instead of tucked away, although she wasn't sure if she had escaped with her little outburst. She peeked over at him, to see him still motionless, staring at the screen.

Fred continued to keep his eyes in a long stare without seeing a single thing on-screen, his brain too busy focusing on the fact that Jane had just re-adjusted her pants.

'Concentrate, you're just here to make sure she's okay and watch the documentary....What she does with her massive cock is her own concern.....'

Saliva began to fill his mouth as he imagined the weight of it on his face..

*You can't do anything, when he steps back... you might as well light up a cigarette....*

He swallowed and redoubled his efforts to focus, but the more he tried to listen to the basketball, the less he cared as Jane moved her leg slightly, and the tiny movement was like a glacier collapsing in his peripheral vision. Freddie blinked twice, redoubling his efforts to stay engaged with the content being put in front of him.

His hand snuck into the bowl, and as it did, it met another hand doing the same thing.

For a short while nobody moved as their skin brushed each other, like corresponding magnets unable to release, until, eventually, Coach Matherson pulled her hand out.

Fred couldn't help his shoulders slumping.

It took him a long time to remove his hand from the bowl and shove some popcorn into his mouth.

They both crunched away quietly.

*So did I think I would be the greatest of all time when I was a kid? Hell yes I did...*

Jane snorted.

"Jeez, the ego on this guy."

"Hey, it's why he's the greatest", responded Fred, relaxing back on the couch.

She leaned over and placed her hand on his knee.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but he's just not the greatest, okay?"

The light playing of her grin and smouldering eyes took his breath away.

"Yeah, you're just jealous."

She took her hand away and snorted.

"Of what."

He leaned over and squeezed her leg in response.

"The three championships the Hornets won in a row?"

Her eyes grew wicked.

"Hey, I may only have one arm, but I will wrestle you over this."

"You couldn't beat me with two arms, let alone one," he chuckled.

"Excuse me?!"

They were both closer now.

"Yeah, I said it."

"Well why don't we see right now!"

"Sorry, I'm out of practice at attacking disabled people," he grinned.

A large hand closed around his bicep, and suddenly popcorn was flying everywhere as he was hauled onto her, tittering as they began a careful arm wrestle, Fred making sure to keep Jane's left hand from being involved as he put both his hands on her right arm and tried to push it to the sofa.

"MMNNN!"

Jane grinned, baring her teeth as she used all her power to almost force his hands backwards, and Fred's heart pounded in his chest as he witnessed her strength, popcorn crunching beneath them as they pushed against each other.

She was almost holding him with just one arm.

"You can't... beat me..... with one..." panted Fred, slowly pushing her arm back.

"Like that's.... something to brag about..." she responded, chest heaving, and eventually she yielded with a release of her muscles, the two of them leaning back.

It took a few moments to come to terms with the fact that Fred was straddling her, the two of them breathing heavily.

He let go of her arm, fingers itching to touch the barely concealed breasts threatening to stare him down.

Their eyes locked.

*...never looked back, I worked day in, day out, but at the end of the day... you always gotta take that shot...*

Fred slowly let go of her arm, and sat up, his hands in front of him, unsure where to go next.

Jane's free hand settled on his thigh.

*...If you don't take those risks... go through that pain... make the decision and DO it... you're never gonna make it......*