A Love We Deserve (True Love Book 2) (12 page)

I slink off toward the back door, go into the garage and grab my wagon. I can feel how pathetic, and hilarious, I look as I shuffle down the sidewalk with my squeaky wagon in tow, like something from a cartoon. I go into my house as quietly as I can, I hear the kids watching a movie in the living room, so I sneak upstairs to my bed. I cry myself to sleep out of shame and embarrassment. How am I ever going to meet a guy when I’m this broken?

Chapter 12

Oh shit.

I’ve never seen Katie this mad before. She is fuming, and ranting, and it’s so unlike her it makes me giggle.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me, Mel, I’m pissed!”

Her cheeks are flaming red, and her eyes are wild. I clear my throat and sit up tall as I accept the reprimand for my insolence. She’s right, one hundred percent. Everything she’s screaming at me is right on the money. I
was
incredibly rude to Brian for no reason. I
was
a bitch to the girl they were trying to fix him up with. She even told me that Jason was upset with me. Yikes. We didn’t have a great relationship when they first moved here, I think because he judged me for how Chris and I got together. Through their turmoil, he and I became close. He’s like a brother to me. To think he’s hurt too is embarrassing.

“I don’t know what else I can say, Kat. I’ve said I’m sorry a hundred times. I really can’t explain why I behaved that way. He does that to me for some reason when I’m around him. He’s never been anything but genuinely nice to me, and I’ve been nothing but a giant bitch. I have to make it right.”

Her face relaxes, and she gives me a half smile.

“I know it’s been stressful over the past year, and I’m sorry for that. We’ll figure out a way to apologize for you so you can show your face again. He and Jason are pretty close, and he’s a great guy. I have to run, I’ll call you later.”

She gives me a sideways hug and leaves. For Katie, that’s the equivalent of stern punishment. Lesson learned. Don’t piss her off.

My head hurts from last night. I didn’t sleep at all when I got home; all I could do was replay the dinner scene over and over in my head. I don’t think I’ve ever caused someone to look so hurt. I’ve usually been the one in that seat. All I want to do is crawl back to bed. I slink upstairs, and bury myself up to my neck under the covers in my cozy bed. Damn! Still can’t sleep. I’m so tired I feel like I’m hallucinating, but sleep just won’t come. Chris used to masturbate before bed to help him fall asleep. Asshole. His poor dick has been used and abused. I giggle at my inside joke, but realize maybe it’s not the worst idea ever.

I haven’t had sex of any kind in quite a while, so maybe I just need to take the edge off. The boys are at a friend’s house, so it’s nice and quiet. I roll over to my bedside table, and pull my toy out of the drawer. It probably needs to be dusted; it’s been far too long since I’ve used it. It’s nice and warm under the comforter, and I turn it on to a low buzz. I move it around my body, but I can’t get into it. I let it linger and vibrate on my nipples; that helps get the blood flowing.

Who should I choose as my partner? I think of that hot actor in the movie I saw last week. Just as his gorgeous face appears in my mind, another replaces it. Brian’s face is smiling at me. Whoa. That came out of nowhere. His sparkling eyes are staring at me in the sweetest way. Certainly not like the last time I saw them. His image is a lighting bolt to my groin. The heat becomes intense, and I let my vibrating toy find the sweet spot. My fantasy becomes more detailed. He takes off his clothes and reveals a godlike, chiseled body. His large dick is hard and he’s squeezing it while looking at me.

I’m fantasizing that he’s watching me masturbate, and he’s talking dirty to me. One hard thrust, and my dildo is in all the way to my hand. The vibrating sensation combined with his image make me come fast and hard. I hear my disembodied voice scream out, as beads of sweat roll down my face. My breathing is fast and deep. Jesus! I’ve never had an orgasm like that from masturbating. Ever
.
My subconscious mind had obviously paid close attention to the details of Brian’s face and body. Not that a conscious one would miss them, but I seem to have them memorized. I ponder that thought for just a minute, then pass out cold.

When I wake up, I have to orient myself. I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for four hours. What a treat! I might have to do that every time I have trouble sleeping. Chris might have had that one right. I feel my face flush a bit when I remember that I was fantasizing about Brian, the last man on earth who would want to be in my bedroom right now. Now I feel even worse. I have to talk to Katie to make sure she apologizes for me.

I take a shower, and decide to spend my day getting paperwork done. Everything is ahead of schedule for now, but I don’t want to fall behind. I start a pot of coffee, and make a peanut butter sandwich. My head feels better after the nap, but I feel weak from having not eaten since lunch yesterday. If you want to make an ass out of yourself at a dinner party, wait until the meal is finished at least. I grab my laptop and phone, and sit out on the porch. It’s a beautiful day, and the sun is like a healing balm. I close my eyes, and lay my head back to soak it in. I’m startled by the buzz of my cell. I have a text, probably one of the kids asking me for something. I glance at the screen; I don’t recognize the number. I shake my head after I read it, not really believing it.

Melanie, this is Brian Eyre, from last night at Jason and Katie’s house. I was wondering if we could get together sometime. I feel I may have given you a bad impression or something. Thanks.

He thinks he gave
me
a bad impression of
him??
How fucked up is that? Is he really that nice or naïve to blame my being a bitch on himself? I can’t respond, I don’t know what to say. I can’t see him right now; I’m too embarrassed. I hit Katie’s number on my phone; I need to talk.

“Hi, Mel.”

“Oh. Hi, Kat. I just got the weirdest text message, you’ll never believe it.”

“Let me guess, from Brian?”

“Yes, how’d you know?”

“He called here this morning to ask for your number. He told Jason he feels badly because he must have made you mad about something. Did you hear that, Mel?
He
feels bad.”

Oh no, I hear that familiar tone in her voice again.

“I know, I can’t believe it either. Is he really that nice or is he messing with me? Why in the world would he ever want to see my face again?”

“That’s just the kind of guy he is, Mel, he’s the real deal. Genuine, no pretense at all. He doesn’t know you, so he deduced that something he did made you act that way. Most people who know him wouldn’t speak to him like that. Funny thing is, I almost set the two of you up. Jason didn’t think that he was your type, though; too much of a jock. I think you ruined Julia’s night too because he never asked for her number. I think I should stop playing matchmaker, it never seems to turn out well.”

“Maybe it’s just the people you’re trying to get together. You have the best intentions; we all know that. I don’t know how I’m going to respond to his text; I’m too ashamed. I’ll talk to you later.”

I take the coward’s approach, and do nothing. I let the text linger in cyberspace. I never hear back from him, so I think he gets the message.

Chapter 13

Katie, Jill and I, along with our small staff, have been furiously trying to get the first shelter open by October. Chicago winters have been known to blow in early, and to get as many women and children off the streets by then is what motivates us. We’ve joined up with a local grassroots organization that offers free health screenings from a medical van. We hope to have the van come twice a month, so anyone new can be seen in a timely manner. It’s fulfilling to know that you can help at least one person in the world have a better life. Most days, I’m so consumed with my job that I don’t obsess over Brian.
Most
days. Well,
some
days. A
few
days?

Truth is, I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s gotten under my skin. True, he’s drop-dead gorgeous with a body, one assumes, to die for, but that’s not it. I feel badly ignoring his text when he was trying to reach out and clear the air. I know he probably doesn’t think twice about it, but I certainly do. I’ve held my phone in my hand, staring blankly at the screen, talking myself in and out of texting him back. His face has re-appeared in my dreams and fantasies, which have become more frequent. I’ve also found that I’m not skipping the sports pages in the newspaper anymore. I scour the articles about the Bears for his name. The season starts this weekend, and I know I’ll be glued to the TV. I’m even looking forward to Sunday.

Jason is usually on the sidelines for the games. He is there in an unofficial capacity; since everyone on the team goes to him after injuries, they like having him there. Maybe I can finagle a sideline visit sometime. Of course, I think he’s still angry with me over my behavior. I’ll have to make him something tasty as a peace offering. I talk Kat into coming over to watch the game using the excuse that we may see some of the people from our fundraiser.

“What? OK, but don’t expect me to know the game. Football baffles me. I’ll make something to bring over. Maybe I’ll see Jason on the sidelines. People tell me all the time that they catch glimpses of him. I sort of feel badly I’ve never bothered to watch. He’ll be thrilled.”

Great. I’ve got her on board. I really just want an excuse for her to talk more about Brian. She’s kept her mouth shut since the whole debacle; I think she thinks I don’t want to talk about him anymore. She was right, too. He’s really not the type of guy that I usually go for. Of course, with all my relationship success in the past, maybe I should re-think my “type.”

Katie arrives right at kick-off. She truly could not care less about the game. I’m propped in front of the TV.

“Grab yourself something to drink, and bring that grub over here. I have beer and wine, and there’s tea in the fridge.”

Katie’s not a big drinker, so she grabs a water bottle. I, on the other hand, have gone through two and a half beers, with plenty in reserve. I’m nervous for some strange reason. It’s not like I’m going to see him or speak to him, but the anticipation of seeing his face is thrilling. Katie is babbling on about different people she recognizes on the sideline. Only when I hear her scream, “Look!” do I really listen.

“Mel, look! It’s Jason!”

She’s waving at the screen; it’s too adorable. She always reminds me of a sweet, innocent kid. I see Jason, he’s inches taller than almost everyone so he’s easy to spot, and then I notice who he’s talking to. It’s him. Oh Jesus, he’s so hot. His hair is mussed, and his eyes are smiling. They’re sharing something funny, because they’re both laughing. Those are two fine-looking specimens. I wonder how many women are seeing the same image and thinking the same thing? Brian is number eighty-six. Mental note: Pay attention to eighty-six.

“Mel, look! It’s Brian, too! What could possibly be that funny? Jason’s not funny. I’ll have to ask him later what they were talking about. By the way, you never told me if you texted him back with an apology. Did you?”

She goes straight for the gut.

“The game’s about to start, Kat. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Mel, there’s not much to talk about. Either you did or you didn’t. Please tell me you did. He’s such a nice guy.”

She’s staring at the side of my head waiting for an answer.

“No, I didn’t, OK? Yes, I’m a complete bitch. Now can I watch the game?”

She looks like I slapped her. She sits back on the couch and doesn’t say another word. Crap, this isn’t what I wanted.

“Katie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just felt so badly about what happened, I was too embarrassed, OK? I just wanted the whole situation to be over.”

She moves closer to me, and gives me a hug.

“I’m sorry, Mel. I know. I’ll let you watch the game now.”

Wow, he’s really good. I’ve kept my eye on him the entire game. Not only is he big and strong, but he’s a fast runner. He’s had quite a few great catches, and some impressive tackles. My mind wanders to him tackling me, and lying on top and not getting up. Me, trapped under his beautiful body. Whoa. Back up, Mel. My crotch is heating up. I think I may have conditioned my body to react a certain way when I think about him. Like a horny Pavlov’s dog.

The Bears are up by the middle of the fourth quarter. They put in the back-up quarterback so he can get playing time. He lobs the ball up too high for Brian; he jumps up, and comes down weirdly on his left leg. He’s not getting up.

“Shit!”

Katie was asleep on the couch next to me, and she jumps.

“What? What?”

She’s rubbing her eyes, trying to understand what’s going on.

“Brian’s down! I think he hurt his leg. Jason’s out there on the field, look!”

She and I both stare at the screen while the medical staff evaluates  him. He gets up on his own, and limps with one arm around Jason who’s helping him. Katie and I are stunned into silence. Man, am I just the worst luck for this guy. If he only knew I was watching the game, he’d put a restraining order against me for too much bad karma. After he leaves the field, they resume the game. No mention of his condition. Katie must see how worried I am, because she places her hand on my shoulder.

“It’s OK Mel, Jason’s with him. I’ll text him and see if he can give us an update.”

“Oh, I know. I always get upset when guys get hurt. You know, their careers and all.”

She sees right through my weak attempt at hiding how worried I am. I feel as if since this guy met me, I’ve been nothing but a black cat, walking under a ladder while smashing mirrors on Thirteenth Street. She’s furiously texting Jason, and her phone buzzes with a new text almost in the same instant she sent hers.

We’re pretty sure he has a tear in his Achilles tendon. Good thing he stopped playing before the whole thing snapped. We’ll know more tomorrow after some tests. So impressed you’re watching the game! Tell Mel thanks from me.

“Well, I’m not really sure how bad it is, but Jason thinks he did something to his Achilles. Is that bad, long-term?”

“It just depends on the severity of it. Thank God it didn’t tear all the way.”

I turn off the television. I feel ill. Katie goes home. I don’t think I’m much fun to be around since I haven’t said a word in a while.

* * *

The sports section on Monday was kind to Brian. The article listed his stats for the game, pretty impressive I guess, and that the Bears can’t afford to lose him to an injury. I’ve obviously not been paying enough attention to Chicago sports if this guy has gone under my radar. There’s a picture of him landing on his ankle, which was turned in the other direction. It’s nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t break it. I’m so worried, and need to find out more. I call Kat to see if she has more news.

“Good morning, girl, you ready to work today?”

“I know why you’re calling, Mel. Don’t play me.”

She giggles.

“You’re calling to get some inside information on our friend, Mr. Eyre. Isn’t that right?”

I hear Jason say something in the background but I couldn’t hear it clearly.

“What did your husband say? Don’t tell him I want to know. That’s embarrassing!”

“He just suggested that you call Brian yourself if you’re worried.”

Not happening. Why is he making such a big deal? I’m just asking about his friend.

“Come on, Kat. Tell him I’d ask about anyone on the team, it’s just that I know he’s good friends with him.”

“Jason heard that and he said you’ve never asked about anyone else, and there’ve been plenty of injuries over the years. Now he’s making a crude gesture, I’m thinking it’s meant to be you and Brian doing the nasty.”

She is laughing now, and Jason is too. It sounds like she dropped the phone. Screw both of them; I hang up. I don’t even know why I bothered. I have work to do.

I decide to keep ESPN on in the background this morning while I’m on my laptop. I like the noise. Never mind the fact that they keep bringing up Brian and showing him every thirty minutes. Nope, don’t care about that at all. They are discussing his injury, though, and the players in the past who have suffered from the same type. For some, the injury stopped their career, others returned, but with reduced playing time and functionality. Oh God. Please don’t let his be that severe. As if she were reading my mind, Katie calls.

“I’m sorry about before hon. Jason was excited that you cared so much. They’re evaluating Brian this morning. Jason said that if it is his tendon, he’ll be out for the rest of the season, most likely. Every person and injury is different, but you can’t rush that one. Jason left a little while ago, and he said he’d keep me posted.”

“OK, thanks, Kat. I’ll talk to you later.”

She calls me a few hours later; I had my head buried in paperwork, to let me know his status.

“It is his Achilles. He’s out for the season, but the good news is that it wasn’t ruptured, just a bad strain. Takes a while to get it back to normal, though. Poor guy. At least he signed a good contract last year so he’s safe. I don’t know what he’ll do with himself if he’s not playing. He’s like a big kid and with nothing to do he’ll go stir crazy.”

Out for the season. My first Bears game in years I actually cared about and watched, and this happens. I’m staying clear of this poor guy, he’s had enough of Hurricane Melanie.