Unknown - Driven_589066

“Jesus! You just scared the crap outta me!”

Dylan smirked. “I called your name, but you didn’t answer. You seemed…preoccupied.”

“Oh! Well. I was. Kinda.”

“Mm.”

Cat sighed.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I…um….” She looked down at her feet, then back into Dylan’s intense eyes. “You remember me talking to you about the Children’s Cancer Initiative Pro-Am

tourney?”

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Gave you a contribution a few weeks back.”

“That’s right,” Cat replied, remembering her shock at the number of zeroes following the first figure of said contribution. “Thanks again, by that way. That

was incredibly generous of you.”

Dylan flung a negligent hand.

“Well…my playing partner was supposed to be Chaney, but Doc Norton’s keeping her off her foot until the break’s over, so I’m…kinda stuck.”

“Anyone else available to help you out?”

“No,” Cat replied, shaking her head. “Everybody’s leaving for vacation.”

A slow, if not entirely pleasant, smile spread over Dylan’s lips. “Let me guess. Chaney tried to talk you into asking me to sub for her.”

“Yes?” It might not have been meant to be a question, but it came out that way.

The smile disappeared. “No.”

“But…”

“No.” Dylan sighed. “Look, we’ve been through this before. I don’t play anymore. Period.”

“But you do, Dylan. You play every day in practice.”

“That’s different,” Dylan replied, scowling.

“How? How is it different? You play harder than the rest of us combined, and you know it. You’re out there every day, for hours at a time, putting us through

our paces. No one can keep up with you, though God knows we try. And I’ve even heard some of the coaches say that you practice at home as well. So tell

me, how is it different?”

Eyeing her companion for a moment, Dylan shook her head. “I don’t want to get into this now.”

“Ok.” Cat held up her hands. “Ok. I won’t push you. Just…at least think about it, okay? It’s for a good cause, and you know that your name would ensure a

record turn out.”

A small smile curved Dylan’s lips. “Not pushing me, huh?”

Cat blushed slightly, chagrinned. “Well….” Stepping forward, she placed a gentle hand on Dylan’s wrist. “Just think about it, okay?”

After a long moment, Dylan nodded. “Okay.”

Cat was sitting on her couch wearing her oldest, holiest, and most paint-splattered pair of sweatpants topped by a t-shirt she’d had since Junior High. A

three-quarters empty jumbo bag of chocolate double-stuffed Oreos sat on the coffee table next to a similarly desiccated jug of milk.

The TV was blaring Southern Sports Network’s Weekend Roundup through its large speakers. The commentators, both women, were going methodically

through the WBL’s All-Star lineup. Both speculated why no Badger, and in particular Cat Hodges, had been selected.

“Good question!” Cat shouted through a mouthful of cookies, toasting the screen with the milk jug. “Damn good question!”

The doorbell rang as Cat was gulping down her milk, and she almost choked. Swallowing hard, she slammed the jug down on the table and levered herself

out of the couch.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” she grumbled at the doorbell as it rang again. “Keep your shirt on.”

“Ooooh,” she said as she took a look through the peephole, “on second thought, take it off!”

Grinning widely, she unlocked and swung open the door. “Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in!”

Smirking, Dylan gave Cat a slow, head to toe look.

Cat looked down at her grubby clothes and flushed. “I know, I know. Look what the cat threw up, right?”

“You said it, not me.”

“You didn’t have to.” The smile returned and, reaching out, Cat caught Dylan’s wrist and pulled her inside the apartment. “So, to what do I owe the honor of

this visit?”

“I was taking care of some business across town and figured I’d stop by on my way back and give you this.” Dylan handed her a thick envelope. “Came for

you today.”

Spying the return address, Cat smiled and ripped open the envelope. Her smile faded in confusion. “First class tickets? I didn’t order….” Reaching into the

envelope, she pulled out a second booklet. She raised disbelieving eyes to Dylan. “You’re going?”

Dylan’s glossy hair swung free as she nodded.

“Oh my god!” Stepping forward, Cat threw her arms around Dylan and hugged her close, beaming with pleasure at the news. “Thank you so much! God, this

is gonna be great!”

“Well, I don’t know how great it’s gonna be, but I’m glad it makes you happy.”

“You have no idea.” Reaching up, she pulled Dylan’s head down and gave her a kiss that left the taller woman seeing stars.

After a long moment, Dylan pulled away, grinning. “Oh,” she drawled, tasting Cat on her lips, “I think I might have some idea.”

Cat chuckled.

“So, how’s dinner sound?”

“Hmm…I might be persuaded.” Looking up at Dylan, she grinned. “Is tall, dark and delicious on the menu?”

Dylan rolled her eyes. “As long as it’s a thick steak or a large cup of coffee, no problem.”

Cat affected a pout, which earned her a gentle bump on the nose from her tall partner. “So?”

“I suppose,” Cat replied, releasing a sigh worthy of any martyr. “Gimme a second to change, ok?”

“Sure.”

The pair was just finishing what even Cat had to admit was an absolutely fabulous, and rather romantic, meal when Dylan’s phone rang. With a grunt of

disgust, she pulled the slim phone from her jacket pocket, unflipped it, and held it to her ear. Barely a moment later, she closed the phone and sighed,

pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers.

“What?” Cat asked.

“The idiot who calls himself my agent,” Dylan grumbled. “I was supposed to sign some papers for him today and I left them back at my house.” Shaking her

head, she shoved the phone back in her jacket. “Damnit. I’d normally blow him off, but he’s meeting with Nike tomorrow, and they’re already whining about

the damn contract.”

Cat’s face fell a little, though she tried valiantly to hide her disappointment. “That’s okay,” she said finally, giving her best smile. “We were pretty much

done here anyway, right?”

“Yeah.” Dylan’s fierce blue eyes softened. “I’m sorry, Cat. This wasn’t what I had in mind when I suggested going out for dinner.”

“That’s okay.” Cat’s smile became more genuine. “You can always make it up to me later.”

Chuckling, Dylan eased her long frame from the bench seat and stood, straightening the lay of her jacket. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Once inside her car, Dylan looked at her watch, then lightly beat her hand against the steering wheel. “We’re never gonna make it. His damn plane leaves

in a couple hours.”

“Well…um…are we close to your house?” Cat paused a moment, then hurried on. “I mean, instead of dropping me off and then going back, we could just go

over to your house, pick up the papers, and drop them off, right? I mean, if that’s okay.”

Cat wasn’t sure why she was suddenly feeling so hesitant, but she did know that above all things, Dylan’s privacy was her most prized possession. She

hadn’t seen her coach’s house yet, hadn’t even asked about it, and figured Dylan would issue the invitation when she was ready. If she was ever ready.

She bravely raised her eyes, to meet Dylan’s smiling gaze.

“I’m glad someone in this car remembered their brains today. You sure you don’t mind coming along?”