Coming Apart at the Seams (12 page)

When they'd first started hanging out, she hadn't put a lot of thought into what she wore when she was with him. Now she spent hours agonizing over her clothes and shoes, her hair, even her scented body lotion.

After a few minutes of wandering the cemetery, they met up with another couple from the group who still had their candles, and the four of them made their way to the entrance. The guide clapped his hands.

“Fabulous! Our stragglers made it back safe and sound.
Let's get going. Our last stop is the tercentennial memorial for the witch trial victims.”

The group made its way to the memorial, which was located next to the cemetery. She and Nick walked side by side, their hands entwined as if they were a couple.

The memorial and the surrounding area were flooded with light, and the two of them read over the names of the people who'd been hanged. Nick pointed out several names on the memorial, and Teagan stepped closer to read them.

“I didn't know men were accused of witchcraft and hanged. I thought it was only women. The townspeople clearly believed in gender equality,” she noted dryly. “They were equal-opportunity fanatics.”

Nick chuckled, and she wondered if he laughed with any of the women he had sex with. She wondered if he even
liked
them.

The thought made her sad and angry, and she wanted nothing more than to go back to her condo so she could cry and throw things, maybe at the same time. She let go of his hand and turned to face him.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

He stared at her for a moment before smoothing his hand over her hair. Easing his fingers into the strands, he lightly stroked the back of her head.

“Lost your hat.”

She shrugged. “I have others.”

He found a tight muscle at the base of her skull and pressed his thumb against it, rubbing gently. Moaning a little, she dropped her head against his chest.

“That feels so good,” she mumbled into the front of his bomber jacket, letting her mind wander as he continued his massage. “I'm too tense. Maybe I should have sex with Marshall. He could probably get me off at least a couple of times if I helped.”

Nick stopped abruptly, and she moaned in protest. He slipped his other hand into her hair until he cupped her head in both palms. He tilted her face until she stared into his eyes.

“Who's Marshall?”

For a few seconds, his question didn't register. When it did, she gasped and jerked away from him. He didn't have time to
untangle her hair from his fingers, and he tore several strands from her scalp.

“Oww,” she yelped, tears springing to her eyes.

His eyes widened, and he hastily unwound his fingers from her hair. They stared at each other for several moments before she found her voice.

“How do you know about Marshall?” she asked tremulously.

She was very afraid she already knew the answer. He cocked his head, his dark blond eyebrows arched over his green eyes.

“Please tell me I didn't say that stuff out loud.” She cleared her throat. “Did I?”

He nodded. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

I must have a virus, a horrible virus that causes my brain to misfire. And it's fatal. It kills by humiliation.

“I want to go home now,” she said, dropping her hands.

He shook his head. “Tell me about Marshall.”

Turning on her heel, she started toward the sidewalk as fast as her high-heeled boots would take her. Nick caught up with her in two strides, grabbing her arm and pulling her around to face him.

“Tell me.”

“It's none of your business,” she snapped, shaking off his hand.

His eyes narrowed. He moved closer, sliding his fingers into one of the belt loops on her jeans to tug her toward him.

“Now,” he demanded, his voice hard.

She huffed in frustration. Why was he so interested? She knew he wasn't jealous. Did he feel obligated to vet her dates since her brothers weren't around to protect her?

“He's just a guy I've been dating.”

He frowned. “How long?”

“A few weeks.”

He clenched his jaw, and she wondered what he was thinking. She placed her hand on his chest and looked up at him.

“Nick, I know you think you have to play big brother, since Quinn and Cal aren't here, but you don't need to worry.” She patted his chest. “Marshall's a nice guy. You'd like him. He's from Texas, and he loves football. He's a big fan of yours.”

He jerked his fingers from her belt loop and stepped away from her. Propping his hands on his hips, he looked up. She followed his gaze, wondering why they were staring into the night sky. After a long moment, he sighed and dropped his hands to his sides.

Meeting her gaze, he tilted his head toward the sidewalk. “Let's go.”

He started toward the lot where they'd parked the Escalade, and she trailed after him. The sidewalk wasn't well lit, and she stumbled, cursing under her breath.

I'm going to burn these boots when I get home.

Nick turned and hurried back to her side. Taking her hand, he curled it over his arm.

“Can't let you fall,” he said, looking down at her.

It was too late. She'd already fallen.

Hard.

Chips and guacamole.
Check
. Chicken wings.
Check
. Vegetables for the ridiculous people who came to a Super Bowl party and expected to eat healthy.
Check.

Teagan shifted the football-shaped plates and napkins closer to the end of the dining room table to make room for the brownies and cupcakes she'd made this morning. She had been too excited to sleep, and she'd jumped out of bed at six and started to bake.

She'd used a football-shaped cookie cutter on the brownies and piped white icing on them in the outline of football laces. She had decorated the cupcakes with green icing and green coconut to mimic grass before topping them with little plastic footballs. The treats were super cute, and she was quite proud of herself.

Bebe came to stand beside Teagan, holding trays in both hands. She handed Teagan the tray with the cheese and fruit and held up one covered with meatballs.

“Where do you want these?” Bebe asked.

“Anywhere you can find room,” Teagan answered as she deposited her tray on the table.

Bebe nodded, squeezing the meatball tray next to the salsa. Teagan stepped back from the table to give it one final look and tweaked the banner that read “Super Bowl: The Big Game.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to make this party perfect,” Bebe mused. “At the very least Nick should have agreed to stop by. Oh, wait, he can't. He's busy . . . in Miami.”

Teagan scowled at Bebe. “Very funny.”

Nick was in Miami because he'd taken the Boston Colonials all the way to the Super Bowl. In less than thirty minutes, he would be playing for the Lombardi Trophy.

Bostonians were in a frenzy because it was the first time their football team had made it to the Super Bowl in several years. Nick was their hero, for today at least. Tomorrow he might be the most despised man in the city.

“You need to relax,
kanya.
”

“I can't. I'm too excited.”

“I know. You've been excited since Nick showed up on your doorstep last summer.”

“Shut up.”

Bebe laughed. “You have no sense of humor where Nick is concerned.”

“A sense of humor?” Teagan repeated. “What is there to laugh about?”

“Oh, I thought it was pretty funny that you accidentally kissed him, spilled wine on his lap, and tripped him in a graveyard. Not to mention closing your scarf in the door of his SUV and almost hanging yourself when he dropped you off.” She arched a dark eyebrow. “Were you trying to reenact a scene from the Salem witch trials since you'd just been there?”

“Bebe,” Teagan groaned. “Please, please, don't remind me.”

Her best friend, the wretch, giggled. “Tell me again what he said.”

“No.”

“Come on,” Bebe cajoled. “I love it when you say it out loud.”

“No.”

“I'll help you with your org behavior project if you say it.”

Teagan eyed the other woman. Her organizational behavior project was going to be a
bitch
to complete, and she'd love to have Bebe's help.

“He said: ‘Hanging is too good for you.'”

Bebe convulsed into laughter. “He's right,” she said between giggles.

The expression on Nick's face had been a combination of
incredulity, exasperation, and laughter. Teagan wished that, just once, he would be the one who was embarrassed in front of her.

“Why are we still talking about this when it happened months ago?”

“Because it's hilarious.
Hilarious.
”

“A true friend wouldn't find such joy in my misfortune.”

“Then I'm definitely not your true friend because I do find joy in your misfortune,” Bebe quipped. “And speaking of misfortune, I wish I had been there to see Nick's face when you had your mental lapse.”

“Mental lapse? It was like my brain imploded.”

She placed her palms against her hot cheeks. She was still embarrassed she'd blurted out such private thoughts about Marshall, and it was even worse that Nick had been the one to hear them.

Bebe leaned her hip against the table and crossed her arms. Thin gold rings covered her slender fingers, kind of like a fortune teller. Teagan didn't know why her best friend wore them, but she knew they had some kind of special meaning to her.

“Why do you think you're such a hot mess around Nick? Does he make you nervous?”

Teagan considered Bebe's question. She felt a mix of emotions when she was with Nick, but nervous usually was not one of them.

“Actually, I think it's the opposite. I'm too comfortable around him, so I don't watch what I'm doing or where I'm going or what I'm saying. It's like I forget everything, and I'm just there, in the moment, with Nick.”

“Have you heard from him today?”

She nodded. She'd sent Nick a text earlier this morning:
Good luck. I'm cheering for you.
A few minutes later, she had received his reply:
Are you wearing my jersey?

Nick had sent her an official Boston Colonials jersey with his name and number on it for Christmas. It had been waiting for her under the tree at her parents' house when she'd flown home to San Francisco.

The jersey had been a surprise, but it wasn't the first time Nick had bought something for her. After their trip to Salem, he had sent her a knitted cap to replace the one she'd lost.

That one had been light pink, but he'd sent her a cap that was a deep bluish-purple, similar to the color of delphiniums. He had included a note:
Matches your eyes.
After she'd read it, she had hugged it and the cap to her chest, just like a love-struck teen.

I'm pathetic.

She hadn't seen Nick since their trip to Salem, which had been in mid-November. She'd texted him a couple of times to wish him a Happy Thanksgiving and to thank him for the jersey.

She had also texted him to wish him luck for all his playoff games. He'd responded every time but with short answers—exactly the way he talked.

Earlier today, she'd asked Bebe to take a picture of her wearing the jersey, and she had sent it to Nick. In reply, he'd texted:
Looks good.

He was lying. It was too long and baggy, but she loved it because he'd given it to her. Sometimes she even slept in it.

I'm pathetic
.

A knock sounded on her front door. Her guests had arrived.

“Party time,” Teagan announced, heading toward the door.

“How many people are you expecting?” Bebe asked, trailing after her.

“Thirty or so.”

“I'm going to run to the bathroom before everyone gets here,” Bebe said.

Teagan nodded and went to welcome her first guest. It was Marshall, and when he saw that no one else was around, he backed her against the wall in the foyer and kissed her until they were both breathless.

He pulled back and met her eyes. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi.”

She and Marshall had been dating for nearly four months. They weren't exclusive, although she wasn't dating anyone else, and neither was he. He'd dropped hints that he wanted them to be, but she had ignored them.

They weren't having sex, either. They kissed, and she allowed him to cop a feel every now and then, but he hadn't put his mouth anywhere other than her lips nor had his hands strayed below her waist.

It wasn't because she was a good girl. It was because she refused to have sex with one man while she was in love with another.

She was in love with Nick Priest. A man who would never love her back. A man who'd never had a relationship with a woman based on anything other than sex.

She'd downplayed her feelings for him as a crush because that had made it easier to pretend they would go away. But they hadn't gone away.

What had started out as friendship and a little bit of lust had turned into something deep and intense. When she was with him, she felt like she mattered—like her thoughts and her feelings were important. She had never felt that way before.

But she knew loving Nick would bring her nothing but heartache, and that was why she continued to date Marshall. She wanted to give herself a chance to fall in love with someone who would love her back. Someone who could commit.

She wasn't in any hurry to get married and start a family, but she wanted those things eventually. Marshall was a good man, and she could tell he'd be a good husband and father.

Marshall bent down to kiss her again. He was a good kisser with firm lips and nice technique, and it was no hardship to spend a few minutes with his mouth on hers. He curled his hands around her hips and pulled her closer until his erection pressed against her stomach. She drew back, and he groaned.

“What am I doing wrong, honey?”

“Nothing.” She stared into his dark brown eyes. “You're not doing anything wrong.”

You're just the wrong man.

“Then why did you pull away?” he asked, his voice filled with concern and confusion.

“We're not alone. Bebe's in the bathroom.”

It was the truth, but it also was an excuse. For some reason, she had no problem kissing Marshall, but the moment she noticed he had an erection, she felt like she was cheating on Nick.

It was ridiculous because she and Nick weren't a couple. They were friends. And she had no doubt that Nick had an active sex life. He wasn't thinking about her when he was with other women.

Another knock sounded, and she moved to open the door. Marshall stopped her and pointed to his crotch, where an erection tented his khakis.

“I need a place to hide out for a few minutes.”

She smiled. It might make her feel guilty, but it also was nice to know at least one man got an erection because of
her
and not just simple
biology
.

“Down the hall. My bedroom's on the left, study on the right.”

He gave her a quick kiss before jogging toward the hallway. Bebe peeked her head around the bathroom door.

“All clear?”

Teagan laughed and waved her into the room before opening the door to let in a group of people she and Bebe knew from school. Within minutes, her condo was packed with people wearing Colonials gear. The big-screen TV was on but muted until the game started so people could chat while they filled their plates with party food.

Marshall made sure everyone had drinks, and when she caught his eye from across the room, she mouthed, “Thank you.” He winked at her, and in return she gave him a big smile.

“You're leading him on,
kanya
.”

The smile slipped from her face. She turned to face Bebe.

“I'm not,” she protested. “I really like him.”

“I know you do. But as long as Nick is in your life, there's no room for anyone else.”

Teagan worried that Bebe was right. Nick filled her mind, whether she was awake or asleep, and her heart overflowed with love for him.

“You think I need to cut Nick completely out of my life?”

The thought of it made her chest tight. But then she reminded herself it was inevitable. She was moving back to San Francisco when she graduated in four months, and his life was wherever football took him.

Bebe hesitated, but before she could answer Teagan's question, someone yelled out the game was starting. Teagan rushed to the living area to turn on the volume.

Four hours later, the party had quieted down. Everyone was focused on the television because the Colonials were down by three points with only thirty-five seconds left in the game.

The Colonials quarterback tried to run the ball on the first down, but the opposing team stopped the running back from gaining any yards. The quarterback was sacked on the second down.

It wasn't looking good for the Colonials, and Teagan wondered what Nick felt in that exact moment. Even though she knew it was foolish, she closed her eyes and sent him a message with her heart:
I'm with you no matter if you win or lose.

The teams lined up for the third down, and the center snapped the football to the quarterback. The quarterback let loose with a long spiral intended for Nick, but it was obvious that he'd overshot it. The ball was too high.

Teagan held her breath as Nick jumped, his arm reaching toward the sky, his right hand outstretched. The ball ricocheted off his fingers, and it hurtled toward the ground until he scooped it from the air with his left hand. He pulled it down toward his side and landed with a slight stumble right in the middle of the end zone.

Touchdown Colonials!

Teagan pressed her fingers against her mouth, tears springing to her eyes. The man she loved had just won his first Super Bowl.

She wished she was there so she could . . . do what exactly? Hug him and pretend that all she felt was friendship? Watch him celebrate by drinking too much and then stand by and smile as he took a strange woman back to his hotel room to screw her?

She'd fallen in love with Nick Priest, and it was the stupidest thing she had ever done.