Not Your Hero (5 page)

“Because,” she says as she wipes the condensation off her iced latte, “you’re my best friend. Have been for years. And I can’t stand to see you hurting.”

“I’m fine.” When I drink the last of my ice water, I stand.

She grabs my hand once we’re outside the coffee shop. “Fine is not an emotion. You’re hurt, lonely, and sad. And fucking Sam didn’t help the situation, either.”

“Sam has nothing to do with this.” I snatch my hand away and lower my voice. “I was lonely before I met him.”

“The past week you’ve been a zombie.” She shushes me when I try to interject. “Don’t even try to tell me it’s still from the asshole who recognized you from X or the double shift you pulled that night. It has to do with Sam fucking your brains out then treating you like a whore.”

I look around to make sure nobody heard her. “First of all, quiet down. Second, it has
nothing
to do with him.” It’s a lie, and she knows it.

Crossing her arms in a dare, she challenges me. “Fine. If Sam didn’t bother you, then go out with Kevin.”

“I don’t have time.”

“You had time to fuck Sam.”

“He lives next door. He did me up against the wall then walked out.
With my kid asleep upstairs!
It’s not like we went on a date.”

“Right.” Still unconvinced, she offers, “I’ll watch Ben so you can go on an actual date.”

I sigh. “Mona, really? I don’t have time.” I’m not lying now. I work at the grocery store five days a week, and the club four nights usually.

“One date. Please, Court. I’ll never try to set you up again if you go out with him this once. I just want you to have a good time.”

When she pouts and gives me puppy eyes, I throw my hands up in defeat. “All right. One date.”

“Yay!” She claps and hugs me. “You’re really going to like him.”

We walk to our cars around the corner as she raves about Kevin.

“He’s such a nice guy. I know you’ll think he’s hot, too.”

“You better hope he’s not some crazed serial killer or anything. You don’t even really know him.”

“I know him well enough. We’ve worked together for almost two years. He’s a physical therapist, so I don’t see him every day. We’ve had lunch together tons of times.”

“If he’s so great, why don’t you date him?” I lean on the side of my car waiting.

Mona twirls her keys. I envy her right now. On a lunch break from a respectable job. Just wearing scrubs makes her appear more professional. My black pants and green polo make me look like a servant. We try to meet for lunch once a week but usually have to cancel because of her job. We got lucky today.

“Conflict of interest. He’s hot, and funny, and sweet. But I don’t want to go there.” She looks at her watch. “I’ve gotta go. This was fun.”

“Yup. Glad you could get out today.” Before she gets in her car, I yell, “One date!”

“Got it!”

I turn the music down in the car so I can think. Going on a date should be fun, but I’m not excited about it. Instead, my responsibilities fog my mind.

I dread going back to the grocery store. As much as I hate this job, they were flexible with my hours and let me start earlier so I could pick Ben up from school. He has to go to the before school program, but there’s no way I can work part time. Not only do I need the health insurance, but I also need the money.

The bills I racked up from my pregnancy and Ben’s delivery are still looming. I’m trying to get those, along with my credit cards, paid off. As soon as I do that, I should be able to quit the club. It’ll be tight, but I don’t want to parade around topless any more than I have to. I want to be someone my son can be proud of.

I rush to get Ben on time after my shift and love listening to him blabber about his day.

“Can Luke have a sleepover?” he asks.

“I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe. I’ll have to talk to his mom.”

“But his mom said it’s okay.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Luke said he asked her.”

“Well, I need to talk to her still.”

I glance at him in the rearview mirror, and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Because you’re five years old. I need to talk to an adult.”

“Fine.”

“Shit,” I whisper, pulling up to my spot where Sam is loading up his truck in the driveway. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him since last week, but it will be the first time I’ve had to walk past him with Ben. The other times I was wearing imaginary blinders and avoided any kind of eye contact.

“Sam!” Ben yells and runs over.

Sam ruffles the top of his head and looks up at me, his face expressionless as always. I give a small wave, and what I hope is a smile. “Come on, Ben.”

“Aww. Can’t I stay and help Sam?” His adorable smile melts my heart.

“It’s fine with me,” Sam says.

The hurt woman in me wants to take Ben inside and pretend Sam doesn’t exist, but the mother in me knows that’s selfish. “All right. Be good.” Avoiding Sam’s eyes, I walk inside and lean against the door.

The past week has been torture. Every time I get a glimpse of him, my heart races. I think about how strong he is. The dirty words he said. How I felt so incredibly full with him inside me.

Now I sneak a peek out the window and look at him in a completely different light. He’d be a great dad. When Ben’s around, Sam loosens up. His laugh is genuine, and his smile is to die for.
Why in the hell does he get to me?

Since Ben’s favorite meal is spaghetti, that’s what we’re having for dinner tonight, again. I set the water to boil and dump a can of meat sauce in a pan. Because I don’t work tonight, I run upstairs and change into a pair of sweats and a tank top while everything heats up.

When I get back to the kitchen, Ben’s laughter draws my attention to the backyard. I grab a beer and hop on the counter to watch him play catch. Ben backpedals and ends up falling on his butt. Sam notices the tears in Ben’s eyes. He walks to him to help him up, pretends to fall, and Ben starts laughing at him. Sam rolls around grabbing his leg in mock pain, and when his eyes collide with mine through the glass, he freezes for a brief moment before standing and walking back to his garage, Ben trailing behind.

“Mom! Can Sam stay for dinner?” Ben runs through the back door, and I lift the bowl of noodles above my head to avoid a collision.

No, he cannot.
“What?”

“Please?”

“I . . . umm.”

Sam walks up the steps as I set the bowl on the kitchen table. My palms become sweaty, and my heart pounds.
How can he act so unaffected?

“Just wanted to make sure he got in okay.” The deep rumble of his voice makes other parts of my body pound as well. Damn. He’s so handsome—dressed in a hunter green thermal pushed up to his elbows, a pair of jeans, and work boots. Holy hell.

“Please, Mom!” Ben tugs at my arm and snaps me out of the lustful thoughts. Sam winks at me, and I straighten up. I’m not playing these games. This is ridiculous.

“No. He can’t.” I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at Sam. “I don’t have enough for him.”

It’s barely noticeable, but a slight shock crosses over his face. He wasn’t expecting me to say no.

“But, Mom. I really-”

“No. Not tonight. Now go wash up.”

He tries to argue, but I shoot him the ‘mom’ glare, and he hangs his head before going to the bathroom.

I spoon some noodles and sauce for the two of us, ignoring Sam’s stare.

“Is it really gonna be like this?”

“Like what?” I sit in my chair, back to him, and start twirling pasta.

His arms cage me in from behind and his stubble tickles my cheek. “You acting pissed at me. I told you. I fucking told you that I can’t do more. I told you to make me leave, but you didn’t.” He runs his nose behind my ear, and I clench the arms of the chair, forcing myself to stay still. I don’t want him to see how affected I am. “But you didn’t. So we fucked, Courtney. And we could do it again. In fact, I jack off thinking about doing it again. You know where I live if you want a repeat.”

The pitter-patter of Ben’s feet causes me to quickly stand. Sam is out the door before I can turn around to slap him across the face.

Asshole.

* * *

“Hey! I’m here.” Mona’s voice echoes through the house while I take one last look in the mirror. My hair is wavy, and my eyes appear smoky with three shades of eye shadow. The black dress hugs my curves and makes my girls stand at attention.

“Do I look okay?” I twirl and bite my lip waiting for her response. My nerves are on a high right now. It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date.

“You look hot! Kevin is gonna drool all over you. And the shoes?”

Twisting my ankle, I admire the silver stilettos. “They are gorgeous, huh?”

“Yeah. Are they new?”

“No. I forgot I had them, found ’em in the back of my closet. You don’t think they’re too slutty?”

“Nope.” She grabs my hands. “Excited?”

I give hers a squeeze back and peek around the corner to check on Ben. He’s playing a new video game so he hasn’t even noticed Mona is here.

“Nervous. And a little excited. He sounded really nice on the phone.”

I talked to him late last week for over an hour. Kevin really does seem like a decent guy. He didn't ask about Ben, and I didn't tell him I had a son. He did ask where I worked. Of course, I lied and said I work at a bar. Thankfully, he didn’t push for details.

Mona and I chat for a few minutes when the bell rings, and I look at her before taking a deep breath.

“Good luck,” she whispers.

“Bye, baby.” I give Ben a kiss on the top of his head. “Be good for Mona.”

“Bye, Mommy.” His eyes don’t leave the screen, and I laugh as I squeeze his cheeks. “Only a few more minutes then you need to read a book or something.”

“‘Kay.” His tongue is stuck out in concentration, and Mona pushes me to the door.

I nod at her and open it. Kevin stands with a single rose and a goofy grin. I knew he was really cute because of the pictures Mona showed me from her Facebook. With my heels on, we’re the same height, and his blond hair parts to the side. I think his eyes are blue, but it’s hard to tell in the dim light of the porch. But the suit jacket, khaki pants, and loafers make him look . . . boring.

“Hi. Here. This is for you.” He hands me the flower and I thank him. “I thought we could check out that new Italian restaurant downtown.”

“That’d be great.”

He opens the door for me to his sporty red car and I almost gag at the overuse of cologne. He gets in and smiles before driving away.

“I’m really glad you agreed to this. Mona had wonderful things to say about you.”

“Yeah. You, too.” He talks about his job, and I try to act interested. I nod and smile at the right times and breathe a sigh of relief when we pull up to the restaurant.

Getting out of the car before I choke on fumes, I meet him around the front, where he takes hold of my elbow and directs me inside. Once we’re seated, the waiter brings us each a glass of the house wine, and I have to force myself not to slam it.

“So, tell me about yourself. Mona says you have a son.”

A genuine smile forms. “Yes. His name is Ben. He’s five.”

“So is he in school?”

“Just started kindergarten this year.”

He smiles but doesn’t ask any more questions, and we continue looking at the menu.

The waiter walks over and asks, “Are you two ready to order?”

“I am. Are you?” Kevin asks.

“Yes. I’ll have the chicken parmesan, please.”

“Certainly. And you, sir?”

“I think I’ll go with the lasagna. Thanks.”

“It’ll be right out.”

The waiter takes our menus, and I quickly empty my glass then lift it. “And I’ll be right back with a refill for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the date continues awkwardly. I don’t think Kevin notices, though. He talks animatedly about his love of hunting. Shows me pictures of dead pheasants and ducks. I try my best to fake interest, I really do. He sounded so much more interesting on the phone. It’s not poor Kevin’s fault that I compare him to another man. Sam would have ordered a beer, Sam would have gotten a steak, Sam would have said something to the waiter when he was blatantly checking out my chest.

The worst part is that I don’t even know if it’s true or not. I don’t know Sam. I have no idea the kind of man he would be on a date. I’m only guessing because, in a perfect world, my perfect man would have done those things. And apparently, Sam is the perfect man. Even though he treated me like a whore, I see the little glimpses in his eyes, the sincerity. And after his comments last week, I should hate him. But I don’t. In a sick way, it makes me want him more.

“Ready?” Kevin stands and pulls my chair out.

When we get to the car, I take a lungful of fresh air before being encased in what can only be described as a gas chamber made of cologne.

He reaches over and holds my hand, causing me to cringe. This isn’t going to work out. He’s really a nice guy, but I don’t feel it. There are ten thousand different emotions rushing through my veins right now, but an attraction to Kevin isn’t one of them.

“Well, thank you for a great dinner. I had a good time.” I lean toward my front door, hoping he’ll take the hint.

“I did, too. I really like you, Courtney. Can I take you out again?” He has a boyish grin on his face, and almost seems shy to ask . . . it’s
cute.

Nope. He didn’t get the hint. I’m about to tell him that I’ll call him, with the intention of letting him down gently, when Sam pulls up. He waits on his side for a trashy looking skank. She gives a slight wave before disappearing into the house with Sam. Right before the door closes, Sam has the audacity to make eye contact with me. He raises a brow and tilts his head toward Kevin. Like he sees right through me or something.

I maintain my connection with Sam, while answering Kevin, “Yes. I’d love to go out with you again.”

6

Sam

WHAT IN THE HELL is she doing with that douche? I slam the door when she agrees to go out with him again. It shouldn’t piss me off. That’s what she needs. A good guy. A suit and tie. Someone who can trust others. Not a man so fucked up by his past, he’s built a fucking barricade around himself to avoid feeling.