Pretending Hearts (8 page)

“I’m fine, Wyatt. Besides, I figured this would be a one night stand,” I mumbled to the floor. I was a terrible liar and guessed my attempts at saving face were failing.

I watched Wyatt’s bare feet as he moved closer to me. He pushed my hair out of the way and pressed a dry kiss against my forehead. “I like you, Delia… a lot. I want to see you again. Actually I was going to ask you if you’d come to my game on Friday.”

I lifted my eyes and tried to read Wyatt. He wasn’t an open book and I found him hard to decipher. He sounded sincere, but I was confused. Wyatt ran hot and cold and I hated playing the guessing game about his feelings.

“I plan to kick ass in the game, so maybe we could have a little victory celebration back here afterwards.” His voice was smooth and I felt my defenses weakening. I wasn’t ready to let him go. I liked how he made me feel about myself. I didn’t always have the highest amount of self-confidence and Wyatt chased the doubts away.

I also wanted another go around in bed with him. I hadn’t expected fireworks for our first time together, but I had hoped for sparklers at the very least. Wyatt was a dirty talker and I assumed the things he did to my body would blow my mind. I hadn’t expected for him to rush through foreplay and then pound into me like a jackhammer. Before I knew it, he had finished and was pulling out of me. After a few kisses on the lips, he had drifted off to sleep.

I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until I’d given myself a pep talk. First times were about extinguishing building lust and getting to know each other’s bodies. I couldn’t expect to have an incredible orgasm the first time around. That kind of sex only happened in romance novels and movies. My assumption was good sex happened later in a relationship. I wished I had a girlfriend to help dissect my love life. Georgie was my only option and given her relationship with Wyatt, I felt weird discussing our sex life.

I slipped on my flats as Wyatt finished getting dressed. I recovered and said, “Of course I’ll go to your game.”

I was putting my trust in Wyatt and ignoring the alarm bells sounding. What did I have to lose? I could keep my heart safely guarded until I knew for sure he was the one for me.

***

My mother had the knack for calling at the worst possible times. I had gotten little sleep after Wyatt dropped me off the previous night. I’d felt like I was doing the typical girl thing and overanalyzing every word Wyatt had said since we met. By three in the morning, I was no closer to figuring out Wyatt’s intentions and reluctantly allowed myself to succumb to sleep.

It was still only eight in the morning and I considered not answering the phone, but decided against the idea as I took in Georgie’s sleeping form faced down in her bed. She was sprawled on her belly and dressed in the black mini dress she had worn out the night before. Her snoring paused as my cell phone’s shrill ring echoed through our room. I hit the answer button and then snuggled under the sheets with the phone pressed against my ear.

“Hello.”

“You are
alive
. I was beginning to have my doubts,” my mother whined in my ear. I regretted answering as soon as I heard her tone. My mom was the most draining person in the planet and my lack of sleep would make it exceedingly difficult to deal with her.

“Yes, still alive and kicking,” I muttered.

“Well, what have you been doing? Besides not checking in with your mother,” she snapped.

“You know, the usual stuff: selling drugs, selling my body, selling our story to the tabloids,” I said lightly.

“
Hilarious
, Delia,” she replied drily. “I bet your new college friends are enchanted with your delightful brand of humor.”

I rolled my eyes. “How about we start over?” I suggested and diminished the sarcasm in my tone. “How are you, Mother?”

“Lonely,” she said and exhaled. “I hate how quiet the house is at night.”

Her response made me feel guilt over my snippy behavior. My mother truly had no one in her life. Her parents and first husband died years ago. She was divorcing my dad and both of her children had moved out of the house. Since Blake distanced himself from the family, I was her only source of companionship.

“Why don’t you take up a hobby? Find some sort of book club or something to help you meet new people? A club could give you something to do after work,” I suggested.

“And sit around with the lonely housewives of Clark?” she asked with derision. “No, thank you. I won’t give more fodder for the gossips of this town.”

“I’ll be home on Thanksgiving. We’ll have fun this year. I’ll make that sweet potato casserole only you and I love to eat.” My voice was filled with promise. Promises that I could make things better. She didn’t have to be unhappy any longer. I was learning to be happy and so could she.

“Your brother won’t be here. He has a game that day,” she said forlornly. If my mom had so much free time, she should consider creating the official Blake Preston Fan Club. She seemed more invested in Blake’s career than he was.

“Good, he won’t be around to complain about my lumpy mashed potatoes,” I chirped.

My comment made her laugh. “Yes, he did make quite a scene two years ago by pretending to choke.” I joined in on her laughter. I was warmed by the memory of the last Thanksgiving Blake, my mom and I had spent together. The holidays were hard when my dad was in prison, but my brother always made us feel better about the empty spot at the table. He would make jokes, play pranks, and sing ridiculous pop songs—anything to make us laugh. I never thought of how exhausted he must have felt being the family jester.

Once our laughter died away, my mom said in a sobering tone, “Your dad came over for dinner a couple of nights ago. He said you haven’t called him either.”

“Dad was over? For what?” I demanded, ignoring her fishing attempts.

I hadn’t only blown off my mom. I decided to go off the grid for a bit with my dad as well. He had called a few hours after Autumn had come to my dorm. I was riled up by her visit and I couldn’t seem to settle down. The norm was for me to feel indignant over the way Autumn behaved in the past. My dad wanted to talk about college and my courses, but I couldn’t focus on the conversation. I was too distracted by thoughts of what happened between my dad and Autumn. Had the time come for me to start digging for the truth about their relationship?

“Like I said, I’ve been lonely and I’m trying to keep things civil,” she said matter-of-factly. “I thought your father and I could have dinner together and talk about what has happened to our family in the past four years. We’ve both made mistakes and I think we’re finally both ready to admit what we could’ve done differently.”   

I was dumbstruck and chewed on my lower lip as I analyzed what a civil dinner between my father and mother could mean. I wanted to ask if the dinner was a step toward reconciliation, but I didn’t think either answer would bring me any satisfaction.

My mother filled in the silence. “He found a new job. He left the hardware store and has a position at a rental car agency. Apparently, there’s an agency who helps ex-felons find better jobs.”

I heard Georgie stir from across the room. I had more to say to my mother, but with Georgie in the room, I’d have to censor my words. I was positive my roommate would stop being star-struck about my brother if she knew our sordid family secrets. “I’m glad you’re not fighting any longer. Maybe you could work together to finalize the divorce.” My parents’ divorce was in the works for more than a year. My mother claimed the legal process caused proceedings to be locked at a standstill. I was beginning to wonder if the delay had been intentional. I added, “Mom, I have to go and get ready for class.”

“Sure, honey. But think about coming home sooner than Thanksgiving. I can pick you up and we’ll spend the weekend catching up.” I agreed because I couldn’t be cruel enough to crush the hopeful sound in her voice. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but she was still my mom. The number one lesson I’d been taught by her was family loyalty.

I hung up the phone and poked my head out of the covers. Georgie was rubbing her hands up and down over her face. With each swipe, her mascara was smeared further across her cheeks. “Rough night?” I asked with a laugh.

“Those football players out-party everyone else on campus. You’ll have to come with us next time,” she said. Her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I was really drunk, but I vaguely remember telling everyone who would listen I was rooming with Blake Preston’s little sis. Please, tell me you told Wyatt about your brother.”

I nodded. “We talked last night. Don’t worry about it. I was bound to lose my secret identity sooner or later.”

“I’m a terrible secret-keeper when I’m drunk. I was trying to impress a hottie fullback and since I know shit about football, I said the first football-related thing that came to mind.” Her face fell. “Of course, he lost interest as soon as I mentioned you. He kept pressing me about when he could meet you.”

“Then I’ll stay as far away from the football house as possible. Blake still has friends on the team and he’ll end up beating the snot out of any player who tries to hook up with his sister,” I said.

Georgie fell back onto her bed and let out a dramatic sigh. “God, that’s so hot. I wish I had an older protective brother.”

I giggled. “You would give your protective brother a run for his money.”

“You’re probably right,” Georgie acknowledged. “Have you told Blake about Wyatt?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Besides I’m not sure what to tell him.”

“What do you mean?” I didn’t answer. I saw a loose thread on the edge of my blanket and began to pull at the strand. I was desperately trying to avoid eye contact with Georgie. She would see the hurt and confusion in my face and probably pass along the information to Wyatt. Georgie cleared her throat. “Wyatt is way into you. Without a doubt, he wants you as his girlfriend.”

My head snapped up at her words. “How do you know that?”

“When you went to the bathroom at his condo, he told Fallon and me how much he likes you,” she said. “He’s over banging a bunch of girls for the hell of it. He’s already done that for three years. I never thought I’d see the day Wyatt Johnston whipped by a girl.”

“Whipped?” I asked disbelievingly. “Whipped is definitely far-fetched.”

“Well, you don’t know Wyatt the way I do,” she countered. “He’s asked me if you talk about him and if I thought you liked him. I felt like I was back in fourth grade. If that’s not whipped, I don’t know what is.”

I beamed at her. “Thanks, Georgie. I was worried about his feelings and you’ve made me feel so much better.”

“Feel free to return the favor. You know like passing on my number to one of your brother’s single teammates? I’ve had sex with a minor league baseball player before, but getting a piece of ass from the NFL is on my bucket list.”

“I’ll do my best,” I replied giddily. My mood was lifted hundredfold by Georgie’s pronouncement. Mistakenly, I had let Autumn get into my head and mix up my feelings about Wyatt. All of us had our secrets and sins and I wouldn’t let a few rumors about Wyatt get in the way of my potential happiness.

“Come on, Del. You’re not really mad, are you?” Wyatt asked as he followed me out into his living room.

“Don’t call me Del,” I said archly as I grabbed my purse. As I stormed to the front door, I realized how I had to stop getting stranded at his condo without an escape route.

Wyatt placed his hand against the door to prevent me from leaving. He gave me a puppy dog look. “You’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting? You started taking shots of vodka while I was in the middle of going down on you!” I screamed at him. My body shook with anger as I swung to face him.

“I’m sorry. It’s not like I wasn’t enjoying your mouth on me,” he said in a contrite tone.

“You make me feel cheap, Wyatt, and I’m over it,” I said harshly.

“I’m not trying to make you feel that way on purpose. I’m new to this whole relationship thing,” he said softly. He swayed in place, likely feeling the effects of the vodka, and used his hold on the door to steady himself.

Relationship
? I almost laughed in his face. Two weeks of sleeping together and I was beginning to wonder if Wyatt was capable of having a normal relationship. I probably would’ve ended things already if he didn’t keep finding ways to pull me back in. He was careless with my feelings, but when I threatened to leave, the sweeter side of Wyatt I had fallen for would come out and he would us his body and words against me. Catch and release seemed like Wyatt’s specialty.

“Will you stay for a bit? We’ll talk,” he suggested. He was bleary-eyed and red-faced. He was in no condition to drive me home, so I’d have to either let him sleep it off first, or find another way home. Not being allowed a car on campus was becoming a huge pain in the ass.

“Fine,” I finally said. Despite his inebriated state, he still managed to give me a charming smile. If relationships were always this much work, I’d been smart to avoid them for as long as I had. On some days, I felt the strongest connection to Wyatt and imagined one day falling in love with him. On other days, I barely even liked him as a person.

Georgie had been Wyatt’s biggest advocate. She claimed he was a reformed bad boy and only needed time to get accustomed to having a girlfriend. He was wealthy and gorgeous and never had to answer to anyone before for his selfish behavior. I hadn’t confessed to Georgie how Wyatt’s egotism followed us into the bedroom.