B00AAOCX2E EBOK (31 page)

I could always tell him that my circumstances changed and it would be best if we were just friends.

And yet…

In the back of my mind, a disquieting voice asked about Ian. Wouldn’t it be kind of shitty to go out with someone else just days after sleeping with him?

No shittier than him pretending nothing happened.

That thought was the kick in the ass I needed and the deciding factor. Why should I care what Ian thought? Why should I consider his feelings? It’s not like we had any romantic ties. He made that damn clear the other night.

As far as I was concerned, that made me a free agent.

***

While it had stopped snowing the day before, I was grateful there was still snow on the ground, making it perfectly acceptable to go out in a turtleneck sweater.

I applied a coat of lip gloss and studied my reflection with a frown. I looked like shit. My exhaustion showed on my face, in the grayish circles under my eyes and my pallid skin. Even my hair had a wilted look to it. I supposed it didn’t matter. I wasn’t looking for anything romantic with Jayden, so what did it matter if I wasn’t looking my best?

It sounded good in theory, but not so much in practice. I applied some color to my cheeks and left the room, too tired to be completely superficial.

Chelsea was folding laundry near the kitchen table when I entered the great room. “You’re all dressed up,” she said with a smile. “Where are you off to?”

I sighed. “I have a date.”

“You’re really excited about it, too, aren’t you?” Chelsea chuckled as she pinned a towel under her chin and folded it from the middle. “I guess I understand, though. I just hope the two of you get everything figured out.”

It took me a second to figure out what she was getting at. “I’m not going out with Ian.”

Chelsea’s eyes flew up. “Wait—what?”

“My date isn’t with Ian,” I repeated. I pretended to clean some dirt from under my nails to avoid looking at her.

“Who are you going out with, then?”

“Jayden Breckenridge.” I glanced up.

“Jayden?” Chelsea repeated, looking taken back. “I just assumed you would be meeting Ian. So you two could talk.”

I shook my head. “No. That would actually require him to acknowledge Saturday night happened.”

Chelsea’s brows slanted in a frown. She turned her eyes down to the shirt in her hands. “Look, I know you’re upset, but do you really think going out with Jayden is going to help the situation? I mean, jumping into a relationship before the other one is even resolved?”

“Relationship?” I didn’t have a relationship with either one of them.

“Okay, maybe ‘relationship’ isn’t the right word, but you know what I’m saying.”

Yes. Yes, I did. “I’m not doing this because I’m upset, Chelsea. Jayden called on Saturday afternoon, before Ian and I were together, and I’ve been so preoccupied that I forgot about it until just about an hour ago. Seemed too late to cancel by then.”

The line of Chelsea’s jaw tightened a fraction as she muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” I asked, although I had heard her loud and clear:
“If that’s what you have to tell yourself.”

“Nothing,” Chelsea said with a sour face. “Hey, you’re a big girl.”

The censure in her tone caused my hackles to rise. “Yeah, I am.”

Chelsea’s brows flickered as she lifted the empty laundry basket over her shoulder. “I have another load downstairs. If I’m not back before you leave, have fun on your date.”

“I will,” I promised in the same civil tone I heard in Chelsea’s voice.

She sighed and was out the door.

I threw my hands in the air. I was just irritating all my friends today.
What the hell? Why don’t I just annoy Casey and hit the trifecta?

***

Despite my foul mood, I was determined to make the best of the evening. When Jayden asked me where I wanted to go, I instantly said Luna’s – I needed coffee and comfort food, both of which Luna’s provided in abundance.

The cafe was crowded, as usual, but the dinner crowd was dying off, so we didn’t have to wait too long for a table. “A little birdie told me you used to play football.” I said after the waitress brought our drinks.

“My dad?”

“No, my roommate. Chelsea Prince?” I clarified, looking for some recognition.

His brow line lowered and he started to shake his head… then stopped. “Wait, I know that name. Where from?”

“She said your moms used to be friends.”

He snapped his finger. “Right. They were sorority sisters at ASU. What a small world.”

“Small town. So you were telling me about football?” I prompted.

“Was I?” He took a drink of his tea. “Okay, yes, I did play. All through high school and my first two years at college.”

“Why’d you stop?”

For an instant, his blue-green eyes darkened with emotion. They cleared just as quickly, but I’d seen enough to know I’d brought up a sensitive subject. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said after a moment. “It has a lot to do with why I’m here, actually. I had this roommate who was on the team with me. He was more like a brother. Anyway, last year, he died.”

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes moved to his glass of tea. He picked up his spoon and began stirring the ice around. “I was the one who found his body.”

I winced, feeling awful for bringing it up. “I’m really sorry.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” he snorted a laugh and looked up at the ceiling. “He died from steroid use, and I’d suspected all along that he was using. There were signs: increased strength, larger size, shorter temper. I looked the other way. Football was his life, and I knew that if I turned him in, it would take him away from the only thing he loved.”

I could understand how hard of a position that must have been. “Don’t they test for that kind of thing?”

“Of course, but there are ways around it.”

My experience in that arena was limited to only what I’d seen in movies, but, even then, they’d shown how people get around testing. I supposed things like that happened in real life, too.

“The entire thing really screwed me up,” he said. “I kept thinking, why didn’t I confront him about it? It may have ended our friendship, but he’d still be alive, you know? After that, football didn’t seem important. I always enjoyed playing, sure, but in the end, it was just a game to me.” He stopped to take a drink, then sat back in his chair. “I quit the team, left school, and went looking for myself.”

“And became the well-adjusted man you are today?” I said with a grin.

“Not right away, no. I started in all the wrong places, like the bottom of a bottle. Eventually, though, I met this guy, Sonny, who gave me the wakeup call I needed. He taught me how to start looking in the right places, starting with myself.”

“He was like a mentor, then?”

He smirked. “I doubt he would answer to the title. He was a three-hundred and fifty-pound Samoan biker I tried picking a fight with on one of my benders.”

“Yikes.”

Jayden chuckled a bit wistfully. “I was looking for a fight, but he wouldn’t give it to me. Instead, he pulled me into the bathroom, shoved my head in a sink full of ice water, and poured a gallon of coffee down my throat the rest of the night. It was effective. I haven’t had a drink since.”

“Congratulations,” I said, recalling him declining the wine at my mom’s house the week before. “So, that was enough to help you find yourself?”

“No. I went back the next day to thank him. Believe-you-me, I was quivering in my boots the entire time. I thought he was likely to snap my neck. Instead, he got me to talk. I went to see him a few more times, talked to him about my problems, and he helped me make peace with what happened. He’s the one who turned me onto Buddhism.”

“Buddhism? Really?” There was more to Jayden than tight jeans and a friendly smile. I only now realized that hearing he’d been a football player had colored my opinion of him; I couldn’t have been more wrong. This guy had layers and being with him helped remind me why I’d been so attracted to him in the first place.

“Yeah. I didn’t plan to get into it, or anything, but it helped me get some perspective. It also made me see how important it was to reconnect with my family. I started at home, and then made my way out here to get to know my dad.”

“Speaking of that,” I said, “Why did you have to go back to L.A. after just getting here?”

“Family emergency. My sister, Jayda—”

I lifted my hand. “Sorry, but Jayden and Jayda?”

A grimace twisted Jayden’s handsome face. “I know, it’s so precious you could almost gag.”

I laughed. “It’s cute.”

“It’s baby-naming by Dr. Seuss.”

I chuckled. “So, what about Jayda?”

“Jayda just turned fourteen. You know the age; she’s testing her boundaries, rebelling, trying to get away with the things her friends do...”

I nodded
.

“It’s not easy when you have our father. Last weekend she stayed the night at a friend’s house so they could go bowling. Her friend’s dad dropped them off where they met up with two eighteen year-old boys they’ve been sneaking around with.”

“Oh, boy.”

“To make a long story short, these boys talked the girls into leaving and going to a local make-out spot. The guys were drinking and on the ride down the hill, the driver lost control of the car and ended up wrapping it around a tree.”

“Holy crap! Are they okay?”

He shrugged. “For the most part. The boys walked away with minor scrapes and bruises, but Jayda’s friend fractured her collar bone, and Jayda broke her wrist and has a concussion.”

I gave him an uncertain look. “She’s okay, though?”

“It’s been a rough week. I wanted to be there, first and foremost, to make sure she was okay, but to also play buffer between her and Rafe. He can be pretty severe when it comes to his only daughter.” He stopped to take a drink from his glass of tea. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s used to military structure. Sometimes it’s hard for him to come to terms with the fact that his children aren’t like the men under his command. We don’t always do what we’re told, we rebel, we talk back, we disobey orders.”

I nodded, and then looked up as the waitress brought our food. “Thank you.”

Jayden tipped his head at the waitress, looked down at the food, and then up at me. He looked impressed. “You weren’t lying about the portion sizes.”

I smiled. “Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, I can handle it. I can definitely handle it.” He winked, and I had to admit to being flattered by his flirtation. “Anyway,” he said, “that was my week. What was yours like?”

My smile tightened. “Well…”

I waved as Jayden drove off, breathing a sigh of relief that Ian hadn’t driven up to see us together. I hadn’t planned on Jayden driving me to Manchester. I’d had every intention of him dropping me off at home before I had to go to work, but we had gotten so deep into our conversation that time had slipped away from us. By the time it occurred to me to check my watch, it had been ten-thirty. It hadn’t made sense for him to drive me back home to get my car, and there wouldn’t have been enough time for that, anyway.

It had been a really easy night, full of fun conversation and laughter. I never got around to telling him that I wasn’t in the market for anything romantic, but I thought he might have picked up on that because he hadn’t tried to kiss me when we said goodnight.

I trudged up the stairs to the front doors of Manchester with a fading smile, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever the night had in store.

Ian was already in the station when I arrived. I watched him from my peripheral vision as I entered and slid behind his chair. “Hey,” I said in a muted voice.

Ian looked down at his hands and mumbled, “Hey.”

“How’s it going?”

He hesitated. “Been better.” His voice was flat.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

He snorted and shook his head.

“Okay.” I sighed and eyed the timer on the computer, seeing it tick down to sixty-seconds. I removed my earrings and put on my headphone to busy my hands. “Do you want to start tonight?” I asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

“I couldn’t care less. If you want me to start, I’ll start.”

I exhaled sharply. “I asked what you wanted. It’s not about what I want.” He’d made that abundantly clear.

“Isn’t it?” He asked, looking at me for the first time. The flesh around his eye was an ugly reddish brown color, and the sight jolted me. After everything that happened, I’d almost forgotten the condition in which he’d come to me Saturday night. Maybe this wasn’t about me at all…but why else would he be looking at me with such open hostility?

“Silly me,” I muttered. “I thought it was the other way around.” My voice wavered on the last word, and I was frustrated by my inability to keep it even. I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. This just plain sucked. “Take it.”

“Fine,” he said. “You’re calling the shots.”

I scowled, wondering how he figured that.

Taking a calming breath in through the nose and out through the mouth, I resolved to focus on the show and get through the night. I could be calm and professional without letting my personal life get in the way.

Ian was in fine form, though, and I knew he wasn’t going to make the night easy after our first call, when what I suspected was one of our occasional high-school listeners called to ask about hickeys and why her boyfriend was always giving them to her.

“Well, Yvonne,” Ian said, “for some, it’s getting caught up in the moment. For others, it’s a sign of possession. Kind of like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant; he’s marking his territory.”

“That’s gross,” the caller said with a giggle. Definitely one of our younger listeners.

“And for others,” he continued, “maybe it’s just to be a dick and put a crimp in a person’s wardrobe options.” I looked over to see him directing a pointed stare to the neckline of my sweater.

The digs kept coming, too; little comments here and there, innocuous enough by themselves, but pointed and squirm-worthy when accompanied by the look on his face.