Living With Regret (10 page)

“I’m surprised your friend Jake hasn’t been out here,” Jordan says, breaking the silence.

“He’s gone. The team left last night for San Francisco. He won’t be back until Monday, and I’m sure he’ll be out here as soon as they’re back.”

“Well, we better enjoy the peace and quiet while we can.” I think she’s joking but I’m not a hundred percent sure.

“Do you not like Jake?” Jordan draws her feet up on the seat of her chair then wraps her arms around her legs as she shrugs.

Everyone likes Jake. He’s funny, easy-going, and for the most part, he gets along with everybody. That fog in my head is thick again because I don’t remember Jake and Jordan disliking each other, but then again, other than the hospital, I can’t remember an exact time when I was with both of them at the same time. I hate feeling invalid and not being able to remember if your wife and your best friend like each other is definitely a sign of that.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” I stop feeling sorry for myself the second I hear her talk about being in a bed because that’s exactly where I want to go ...with her. “Goodnight, Chase. I’ll see you in the morning,” she breathily says before she turns and walks back inside.

Fuck. I’ve clearly been dismissed for the night. I guess I’ll go take a shower myself and find some much-needed relief from my hand.

Damn, it’s hot. I can feel the sweat dripping between my boobs. When I try to bring my hand up to wipe it away, I discover that I can’t because my arm is trapped. It’s stuck because I have a man lying behind me, with a leg draped over my legs, and an arm wrapped tight around my chest. Shit, no wonder I’m burning up.

I’m the type of woman that will never talk about the amount of guys I’ve slept with. I am by no means a whore and have had my fair share of booty calls. I have even had sex with men that I had no intentions of dating. Let’s face it, women can get just as horny as a man can, but I think it is tacky to discuss it.

As long as the man is single, then sometimes you need to scratch an itch. But there is another number I know ...the number that stands out in my head is zero. That’s the amount of times in the last ten years I’ve allowed a man to sleep in the same bed as me.

You may find it crazy, but I feel sharing a bed with a man is more intimate than having sex. When you’re asleep, you are vulnerable and unsuspecting of the doors that could get opened. The ones I am not ready for.

When I went to bed last night, I was alone, but somewhere between then and now, Chase decided to join me. Chase is the only man I’ve ever spent the night with, but even those times were few and far between as we were forced to lie to our parents about where we were really staying. The last night we were together, the night before he shattered my heart, was the last time I slept in the same bed with a man ...until now.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Chase’s greedy eyes travel down my naked body while I lie on his bed, waiting for him.

“I know you’re planning on staying the night, but don’t plan on getting any sleep. Tonight . . .” He bites his lip as a worried expression crosses his face ...“Tonight you’re all mine.”

As I lie here thinking about the most incredible night of my life, a night I’ve never forgotten, Chase’s hand starts moving around my chest. His fingers cup my left boob then he stops moving.

Against my will, my nipples harden at his touch, causing me to fight back a groan. God, I would love it if he would flip me over and fuck me the way my body desperately needs, but I’m sure that’s crossing some crazy professional line. I know I’m not a doctor, but I still have knowledge that Chase doesn’t, and until he knows the truth—that we aren’t married and never have been—then I can’t or shouldn’t do anything that could harm his recovery.

His hand starts moving, brushing back and forth over my hard nipple.

“Chase, what are you doing?” I finally ask when I can’t take any more. “Um.” I have no clue what he just mumbled.

“Chase, why are you in my bed?” I try again.

“Ugh, why are you talking this early?” He nuzzles his face into my neck.

I crack an eye to look at the clock on the wall. Chase isn’t kidding. It’s early but my body belongs in a different time zone and it’s a few hours later for me than it is for Chase.

“Why are you in bed with me?”

If it weren’t for the fact that I can feel his heart beating a little faster against my back than it was a few seconds ago, I would have thought he went back to sleep, but I know better.

“Because you’re my wife and I love you. I fucking tried sleeping in the other room but I couldn’t. Not when I knew you were in here, so I gave up and joined you, and until you decided to get all chatty before the sun has come up, it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

I feel rested myself and I’d be lying if I didn’t say other than the heat that’s generating from being tightly tucked into is body, I love how he appears to be drawn to me no matter where I’m at.

When his breathing evens out again, I softly lift his arm off my boob and slide out from under him because I’m wide awake. After I use the bathroom, I head to the kitchen in hopes that he has coffee somewhere, and I’m in luck. He actually has a fancy machine that looks like it could do a lot more than just brew coffee.

As I’m pouring my first cup of the day, my phone starts to ring and I can tell from the ring tone that it’s Lacey. I ignored her call last night and if I put her off much longer, she’ll be on a plane out here, ready to kick my ass.

“Hello,” I cheerfully greet her.

“Hello? That’s all I get after days of nothing? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Jesus H.—No! No, this is fucked up and I’m going to cut a bitch. Seriously...” Oh geez. I think she actually sat the phone down while she physically attacks something in her apartment.

I love Lace, I really do, but she could use a healthy dose of anger management. She cusses—a lot—and if she held her anger to only words, then I probably wouldn’t worry that much about her. But everyone once in a while she gets on a kick and her anger spills over, then Lord help us all, especially those in her path.

“Why the fuck are you still out there? I mean, okay, whatever, the guy is a fucking head case and thinks you’re his wife, but then you say
No, douchebag, I’m not your mother-fucking wife because your dumbass dumped me without a fucking care in the world!
But did you say that? Fuck no you didn’t. Oh. My. God. If I didn’t love your stupid ass so much I would hire one of the low-life fuckers I’ve helped get off on murder charges to kill you.”

I slowly close my eyes and sigh. Yes, a healthy dose of anger management could do Lacey a world of wonders. “I’m just trying to help him, Lacey. Why are you making this into a bigger deal then it needs to be?”

There’s a long pause before I hear her voice crack as she answers, “Because he hurt you, and I don’t ever want you to be hurt like that again. Maybe you’ve forgotten what he did to you but I haven’t.”

Just like that, I’m no longer annoyed with Lacey. She might be more than most men could ever dream of handling but once you find it, Lacey has a heart of gold, and right now her craziness stems from her need to protect me.

“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten what he did to me, but I came out here to help him ...to help him remember the truth.”

“And what happens in the meantime, huh? He thinks you’re his wife and I’m sure he’s acting like he’s your husband. How are you going to keep yourself from falling for it? He broke your heart once, promise me you won’t let him do it again.”

Oh God, if she only knew that I woke up today with him wrapped around me and telling me that he loves me. But she’s right. If I’m not careful, I could easily fall in love with him all over again, and I’m not sure where that will leave me once he remembers that I’m not a part of his life.

“I’ll be fine. I promise. Look, Lace, I need to go but I’ll call you in a day or two.”

“Yeah, you better. Love you.” Her voice sounds defeated and she appears to be giving up, at least for now.

“You too.”

Believe me, I haven’t forgotten what he did to me, but I came out here to help him ...to help him remember the truth
.

A knot forms in my stomach when I overhear Jordan on the phone, because that confirms my worst fears. I hurt her, but right now this gives me an advantage. Her goal is to make me remember and my goal is to make her fall back in love with me.

“Is that coffee I smell?” I ask, startling her out of her thoughts.

“Oh God! You scared me.” Jordan places her hand over her heart and takes a deep breath. “Yes, I brewed a pot. I hope that’s okay,” she says before biting her lip again.

“Why wouldn’t that be okay? What’s mine is yours, my love. Oh, I was wondering, do you have your passport with you?”

She stops moving, her coffee mug halfway to her mouth, and gives me a questioning look. Yes, I know my question was out of the blue, but if I want my plan to work, we have to get out of this fucking house.

“No, I don’t have it with me. It’s back at my . . .” Her place. She’s trying her best not to force me to remember how she doesn’t live with me anymore.

“Oh, I think your mother may have been here while we were sleeping because there was a bag in the living room with your stuff in it when I woke up. I saw a cell phone on top of it and it matched a charger I found in the kitchen so I plugged it in for you.”

My eyes go straight to where I charge my phone and there it is. Shit, until this second, I had forgotten I even had a cell, but I knew instantly where I charge it. I have no idea where I used it last, but if I had to take a guess, I would say I left it behind in my locker when I left the game in the back of an ambulance.

“Well, go clean up and pack a bag. I have somewhere I want to take you.”

“Chase.” Her tone is sharp, making it clear she doesn’t want to go anywhere, but unless she refuses and tries to leave, then I’m not going to take no for an answer.

“Jordan, are you here with me because you’re trying to help?”

Her teeth start chewing on her lower lip again while she tries to decide how to answer me. I’m desperate and I’m willing to stoop low if it means I get to keep her in the end. “Jordan, this is what I need. Give me this and if you do, then I promise even if I can’t remember, or if I do and I hate myself for the things I’ve done, I’ll let you leave. I’ll let you go back to whatever world you exist in without fighting you, but I need this. Please,” I beg.

This woman inspires me to do and say some of the dumbest crap possible. When she finally nods her head yes, I know everything I just said was worth it.

“Okay, go clean up and then we’ll head out.”

Jordan grabs her phone and coffee then walks out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the bedroom we slept in. I quickly run over to my phone to check outgoing flights to Hawaii. That’s a place Jordan said she always wanted to go and I want to take her somewhere warm, somewhere she won’t be wearing much of anything. Without a passport, that doesn’t leave me with many options.

When I open my phone, I see tons of missed calls and texts and quite a few of them are from numbers I don’t recognize. Mom, Dad, and Jake are the only three names I know, and my heart drops when I see that I don’t even have Jordan listed as a contact. Did I get pissed off at her to the point that I didn’t even want to keep her number? God, I hope not.

As I’m trying to open a search engine, a text comes in from a person named Carrie. I have no idea who Carrie is or why she would be texting me. I click on the message only to instantly regret it. This isn’t a text message. It’s a picture ...a picture of tits. Just tits. Oh, fuck. Is this the girl from the couch or am I that much of a cheating bastard that this is another chick?

I immediately delete the picture and hope like hell there’s not anymore on my phone when Carrie sends an actual text.

Carrie: I hope you’re feeling better, big boy. If not, I know exactly what to do to make you feel much better. Call me.

Um, no thank you. Good Lord. I’m giving my phone number out to random women who are sexting me. No wonder my marriage is practically non-existent. If I saw a text like that on Jordan’s phone, I would go batshit crazy then fly to wherever she lives and beat the ever-loving shit out of the douchebag.