I can see you missed me, too.
She considered the text for a minute. The whole thing reminded her of when they were writing on the tablecloth.
Trusting you is the issue. I never know which Wolf I’m getting.
I’m sorry about that. Really.
She didn’t respond.
Blocked?
No. Not yet.
Good. Can I come over?
She thought about that for a few minutes. She knew what would happen. She and Wolf would wind up in her bed. She had to respect that pain he’d put her through for a little longer.
No. Not yet.
Okay.
She could feel his sadness. But she wanted him to be serious about coming to see her. Not falling into a dressing room half naked. Not making impulse decisions in his office.
Good night.
Sweet dreams, Hazel.
XOXOXOXO
The next day, Claire came over to make the war board for the wedding. Teachers planning a wedding had to be the scariest thing on the planet. Their inherent love of schedule and details turned Hazel’s living room into a scene from “Ocean’s Eleven.”
They both had their laptops, phones, and iPads pulled up to various wedding sites.
“We basically have to do two years’ worth of work in about a week.” Claire took a gulp of her coffee. She’d brought Hazel a cup, as well.
Putting Wolf as far out of her mind as she could was the perfect prescription for today. He’d sent a few texts and she’d responded, but they didn’t get a full-blown conversation going.
She knew where he was, anyway. Chance and Wolf had to take a day trip to the next city on the tour to scope out the rental space that was lined up. Booty Camp was like a rock band on tour with all the details they had to iron out.
By the time Claire and Hazel were hungry for lunch, they'd nailed down the invites, the flowers, and the table settings. The afternoon held arranging an officiant, a DJ, and a photographer. They needed sustenance to make that happen.
When they got to the lobby to take their break at the local deli, Scott was there.
He was dressed in all black and was wearing his shades on his head. He looked good and he knew it.
Scott almost stumbled when he saw Hazel. “Oh. Hey. Hazel. So great to see you. How are you?”
Hazel tilted her head one way then the other. “Fine. Thanks for asking.”
“You know your friend set me up with a discount for Booty Camp! Maybe we can go on a date!” He shuffled into the waiting elevator, and Hazel felt her pupils turn into lasers.
“Really? Really? Wolf invited Scott to Booty Camp?” She ground her teeth together.
Claire frowned. “I don’t know what's up with him. That’s crazy. I know he knows who Scott is.”
Hazel stomped and fumed out the door. “I swear the second I give that man a chance, he pisses on it.”
She pulled out her phone and texted one word to Wolf.
BLOCKED!
And then she went ahead and did that very thing.
He was hanging on by a thin thread with her, and this tipped him over.
Claire put her arm around Hazel. “Don’t be too mad. He’s trying. I really think he is.”
Hazel widened her eyes at her friend. “Are you taking his side?”
Claire scoffed, “Of course not. For God’s sake. I’m always on your side. I just happen to know Chance considers Wolf a brother for good reasons.”
“Bromances are strange things. It doesn’t mean Wolf isn’t a player.” Hazel pulled open the door to the deli.
Claire got on the end of the line. “How much has Wolf told you about his mom and grandmother?”
“Not much.” Hazel's answer was clipped.
“Well, what he’s doing with the matchmaking—they disapprove. He really wants to make them proud, but they don’t agree with him doing the Camp at all.” Claire flicked Hazel’s hair off her shoulder and straightened her jacket collar.
“So, I should let him take a giant shit all over my heart repeatedly?” Hazel stomped a foot.
Claire covered her mouth. “Language, lady. We’re in public.”
Hazel licked the palm of Claire’s hand, which she pulled away.
“Of course not. Like I said, I’m always on your side. It’s just…” Claire’s argument died before she made it.
“What?” Hazel stepped forward in line.
“I think you guys kind of sparkle together. Your,” she whispered, “sexual tension gives people around you sympathy blue balls.”
Hazel wrestled Claire a little and covered her mouth now. “Language.”
Claire laughed as she pulled away. “I would just hate for you to rush out of something that might be good because you’re afraid Scott wasn’t a fluke or a one-time heartbreak. That you think history keeps repeating itself.”
Hazel bought some time by fixing her hair. The bad thing about having a best friend who knew you so long was that she could cut to the bone.
“I’m not trying to hurt you. You know that. I just want you to give this a fair shot.” Claire stepped up to order, but before she did she added, “There’s a time limit on this one.”
Hazel exhaled and tried to focus on the menu on the wall while she pictured Wolf’s lips in her imagination.
Claire gave Hazel some peace while they spent the rest of the evening making more plans. They got a lot accomplished.
Claire had to leave after an order-in salad dinner. Hazel promised to meet Chance and Claire at the theater tomorrow for a cake tasting. The baker was meeting them with several selections. Claire mentioned that Wolf was staying on in the next Booty Camp tour city for an extra evening.
Chapter 26
The Tasting
Hazel had agreed to join Claire and Chance to offer them another opinion on the cake tasting, so she put on her favorite jeans, which had just a few tears, and paired them with nude heels, a white sweater, and vintage leather jacket. Red lips and soft hair made her feel like she could face the world despite the fact that she could easily spend a few days in leggings and a tank top eating ice cream and flipping the middle finger at any man who appeared on the TV.
When she arrived at the theater, she texted Claire to let her in. Chance was the one to actually open the door and he offered a hug.
Claire was in Chance’s version of a rented office, which was across the lobby from Wolf’s closed office door. Hazel did her best not to look too hard at the door.
Chance pulled an extra chair up to his desk, and Claire and he watched as she tasted the four flavors the baker had left on Chance’s desk just before he’d left.
Claire had her iPad displayed with her wedding planning pictures on it. Hazel loved the moist vanilla cake with the buttercream frosting, and Chance and Claire seemed pleased that had been her choice.
Chance kissed Claire, grabbed a folder, and went out into the lobby. When the door swung open, Hazel saw that the Booty Camp staff had assembled while she’d been talking taste and flavor combinations with the bride- and groom-to-be.
“Is it a date night?” Hazel pointed at the now closed door.
“Yeah. They're having a clean up night, where they bring in some new people to try and match up the stragglers who are still unmatched from previous events.” Claire flipped through a book of cake designs, making notes on the pad next to it.
Hazel wanted to ask where the hell Wolf was if it was a date night, and Claire looked up from her cake studies to pin her with a look.
“He did the matches and sent the names to Chance.”
“Oh.” Hazel looked at her hands.
“Not that you’re wondering, right?” Claire wiggled her eyebrows.
“I’m not. I was. But I’m trying to not.” Hazel stood. “Are you good? I should probably get out of here. People might recognize me from my various outbursts and nudity.” Hazel picked up her jacket from where she’d left it on the back of her chair.
Claire distracted her with a few more cake
pictures, but it was clear that her friend was a fan of the classic design with live flowers, so once Hazel pointed that out, she was allowed to leave.
The girls hugged, and Hazel slipped on her leather jacket.
When she got to the lobby, she was plunged into darkness. After a few staggering, disoriented steps, she heard a friendly female voice in her ear. “Okay, here’s your blindfold. Hang tight.”
Hazel vaguely made out the woman’s Booty Camp staff T-shirt in a flash of light from the other side of the lobby.
Chance’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Please, remain still. The darkness helps us stay in touch with the senses that really matter when seeking a person to spend time with. You’ll have to get to know the person without any of society's pesky preconceived notions getting in the way of the match.”
Hazel tried to fight off the Booty Camp staff member politely, but it was pointless. The chick could seriously look into Dominatrix work on the side. The blindfold was secured tightly in mere seconds.
“Stay here and we’ll match you in one moment.”
“Hi, I’m not here for a match, I want to just go out the front door.”
There was no response. Hazel tried to undo the knot or slide the fabric off her head, but it was stuck tight.
As she tried to work on the knot, Hazel realized the Dominatrix-in-training had included quite a bit of her hair in her sailor's knot. Hazel amended the woman’s profession from sex worker to a dock cruise ship securing specialist. The knot was some sort of wonder.
There were no clear strips to start with.
She was passed around by encouraging Booty Camp workers who seemed confused who her match was. Her protests about not actually being a client and wanting to get out the door were hushed and handled as if they were first time jitters. She tried standing still, but the forced blindness was overwhelming. She overheard someone say there was an extra customer and that they should start by matching her up with him.
Then the Booty Camp staff member who gave her the last direction told her it was a dark date and reminded them to whisper to each other. Hazel stopped trying to explain that her hair was tied in this dumb knot and gave up. She knew the Booty Camp drill. She just needed to make small talk—well, small whispers—with a guy, and then she could get someone to help with her hair. Maybe even her mystery date could help her.
She was guided into a plush chair and someone sat down next to her.
They got the go ahead to begin whispering.
Hazel didn’t even let him introduce himself, though she did whisper. She was sick of being the Booty Camp spectacle.
“Hi. I’m not supposed to be here. My hair is caught in this knot, and the lady wouldn’t listen to me when I told her I was just walking through the lobby to leave.” She could feel the guy next to her because there wasn’t even an inch of personal space between them.
He chuckled and whispered back, “Figures. That’s my luck. I come to the famous Booty Camp and get set up with a girl who's just trying to get the heck out of here.”
She laughed a little. “I’m sorry. That’s usually my kind of luck, too. You’ll meet someone great here.”
“Are you a alumni or something?” He had a nice whisper.
“You could say that. I’ve seen a lot of people make matches here. That’s not how it worked for me, though.” She tried working at the knot and accidentally elbowed the man next to her before putting her hands back in her lap. “Sorry!”
“It’s okay. You want me to try and help with the knot? I used to be a Boy Scout.” He touched her hand with a fumbling gesture. “Here, put my hand where the knot is.”
Hazel thought about it for a minute but decided to take his help. She guided his hand to the back of her head.
“Wow. You have long hair. And it’s all twisted up in here. Can you turn a little so I can reach it with both hands?” he whispered.
“Sure.” She twisted at the waist.
“My blindfold is way too tight, as well. Before they paired us up, I tried to get mine off. I think that lady who did mine was a Boy Scout, too.” He laughed at his own joke.
Hazel laughed as well. She swore the place was cursed and told him as much. He didn’t seem to be making any progress with the knot.
A few things happened at the same moment. She heard Wolf’s voice, she decided that she could probably help her date out of his blindfold so he could help her better and she turned to face him, and his hands dropped from the back of her head to her chest as she turned.
Her mystery man full-on honked her boobs.
Chapter 27
Not Hazel Again
For Wolf, the night was not a success. He'd left the next tour spot, Marren Hotel, unhappy. He had a few clients with mobility issues on this next stop, and their wheelchair accommodations were for shit. They claimed that they met the requirements of the law. But they were not up to Wolf’s standards.
Safta Warren, the owner of the venue, clearly didn’t think Wolf knew what the hell he was talking about when he told her the doorways were far below the code and almost all of their stairs had no accessibility at all. Wolf had stayed an extra night to hear Safta’s last-ditch efforts to keep Booty Camp as a client. The ramps she wanted to rent were cheap shit. He remembered wheeling his sister on one of those temporary tin accessibility jokes. There was no support, and the bounce had made his sister nervous.
So he cancelled his contract with Safta and the Warren building. Chance might actually strangle him for a few minutes. Wolf would have to find a new venue site on his own because Chance was trying to get married, so this kink in his well-oiled machine would be something Wolf needed to work on by himself.
When he arrived, it was dark and the whisper dates were in progress. Chance gave him a quick handshake.
“Back early, brother?” Chance handed Wolf the clipboard he’d been working off of with a small flashlight, rating the compatibility of the dates in progress. “Don’t trust me or are you here to check up on Hazel’s ex?”
Wolf looked from the clipboard to the dates. “Well, I trust you, so make of that what you will.”
Wolf found Scott’s blindfolded head on a couch with his flashlight beam. He was next to a girl and seemed to be working on the back of her blindfold. Which was technically not allowed on this date. Wolf passed the clipboard back to Chance. “That bastard’s already doing crap wrong.”
Wolf started in the direction of Scott and got the sinking, ball-tapping feeling he always got when he saw her.
The girl in the blindfold seated next to Scott was Hazel.
She’d come to Booty Camp to go on another date. She’d blocked his number and then come to find another man while he was gone.
Wolf was instantly angry at Chance for letting it happen. Then he was dangerously jealous.
Hazel turned to face Scott, and the man’s hands went from the back of her head to grab a firm hold of Hazel’s gorgeous goddamned tits.
“Motherfucker.” Wolf half jumped over a few sets of legs, watching the action on the couch that seemed to get further away with every step.
And Wolf heard Scott say, with his goddamned blindfold on, “Wait, is that you Hazel? I’d recognize these jugs anywhere!”
Hazel’s mouth dropped open, and she pulled away. Scott held onto her breasts like they were a life raft and he was drowning.
Wolf finally got to the couch at the same time as his eyes adjust to the dim room, knocked Scott’s hands off Hazel, and tossed him off the couch onto his ass.
Hazel grabbed her own breasts in defense and confusion. Wolf immediately had flashbacks to his office when she'd done the same thing while lying naked on his desk.
Chance was instantly between Wolf and his prey, Scott. The groom-to-be put a hand on Wolf’s chest. “You attend to her. I’ve got him.”
Wolf stepped against the pressure Chance was putting on him like there was no obstacle. He was going to beat the life out of Scott.
Peter swung past Wolf and spoke to Haze
l as she tried to get the blindfold off.
That was the only thing that kept Scott’s teeth in his head—the fact that Wolf wasn’t sharing Hazel and Peter would be too happy to help her out right now.
Wolf turned and tapped Peter out, giving him the hand signal for "get the hell out of here."
Wolf bent low and spoke to her. “Hey, Hazel. It’s Wolf. Your hair is caught in this blindfold.”
She took a swing at his face, and he was able to back up at the last second so her punch missed his jaw.
“Did you plan this?” She tried to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrists.
“No. No! Are you kidding?” He held Hazel and looked around the room until he pinned Alison with a stare. “I need scissors.” Alison waved her hands and ran off to his office.
“Oh no you don’t. You get me Claire. She’s in Chance’s office. You’re not coming near me with sharp things.” Hazel kicked out her foot and tried to connect with his shin.
This chick was pissed and feisty. And it gave him the start of some embarrassing wood.
Alison returned with the scissors. He grabbed them and slid them in his back pocket. He looked around the room. The fun whisper event had changed. He picked Hazel up, and she was livid.
“Don’t you dare manhandle me, Wolf! I will kick you in balls so damn much.”
He hoisted her up and held her close. “You’re wrecking the vibe. Just come with me.” He didn’t really give her a choice.
After he walked through his office door, he kicked it shut and put her on her feet.
She started punching his chest.
“If you don’t stand still, you’re going to lose a large chunk of your hair.” He waited until she stood still. She was frowning but at least stopped being a moving target. He carefully placed the scissors near her temple after smoothing her hair out of the way. He snipped the blindfold off; it had been way too tight. He needed to have a discussion with his staff. They didn’t need a damn lawsuit for cutting off the circulation to someone’s head.