Whatever Life Throws at You (17 page)

Chapter 18

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. I must have fallen asleep at the wheel and crashed my car.

But I’m the opposite of drowsy. My senses have never been more alert in my entire life. Brody’s mouth is soft against mine, and his hands slide across my cheeks, resting on the sides of my neck. Unlike that night in his car, when his lips part, instead of pulling away he deepens the kiss. My eyes finally close and my mind is beautifully blank, endorphins flowing freely through my veins as my heart pumps at double speed.

I lift my hands and wrap them around his back, gliding my fingers up and down his bare skin, moving over his shoulders. How many times have I stared at him shirtless in the training room and been envious of old men touching and prodding him, wishing I had an excuse to do this? How many nights have I fallen asleep thinking up a moment just like this one?

His mouth breaks away from mine, arms wrapping around my back, sliding up my T-shirt. A shiver runs along my spine as we stretch out across the futon. We’re completely pressed together. His heart thuds against my chest again, and his lips drift down to my neck.

When he raises his head, our eyes meet for a split second, both of us breathing heavily, hearts pounding. Then I reach for his dark hair, combing my fingers through it, pulling his mouth back to mine.

He brushes his fingers against my bra strap and then his mouth is traveling the length of my neck. I tilt my head back slightly, my chest arching into him.

“This is much better in real life,” he whispers against my skin. “So much better than the fantasy.”

My hands freeze in his hair. “You have fantasies about kissing me?”

He lifts his head from my neck and touches his forehead to mine. “Yes.”

“Since when?”

There’s the slightest bit of color creeping up to his cheeks. He laughs softly and drops his head again, resting it on my shoulder. “Probably since you told me that I couldn’t choose to be a house elf because they’re an enslaved race.”

My jaw drops open. “But…But…you said—”

His mouth captures mine again, giving me another long lingering kiss before pulling away again. “I just wanted to do the right thing. For once in my life, I wanted to make the right choice.”

“And that’s not me?”

He rests a hand on my cheek. “Only because I respect your dad, and I know he doesn’t want
this
.”

I swallow the lump still in my throat from earlier. I don’t really care what Dad wants. He promised me something, and then he broke that promise.

His arms go around me again. Brody’s fingers on my bare skin is the most amazing feeling ever. I lean my ear on his shoulder and touch my lips to his neck. He tries to speak evenly, but his voice keeps catching with every kiss. It makes me feel powerful.

“I’ve never seen anything like you and your dad together, Annie,” he manages to say finally. “And he treats me with respect, like I’m not a screwup and like maybe I can do something with my life. And I know you’re pissed at him right now, but you’re the most important person in his life. I already feel guilty for having my hand up your shirt.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “So guilty it took you about twenty seconds to dive in?”

“Yeah, but you’re not counting the hundreds of other times I’ve wanted to touch you and didn’t.” He laughs and kisses me again. “I really want to take your bra off, too, and I haven’t so I’ve still got a couple ounces of self-control left.”

My emotions can hardly keep up with this huge turn of events, and I shift from swoon-happy to frustrated. I grip his face in my hands, our gazes locked. “Why did you make me feel like such an idiot for kissing you after we left the club that night? I’ve never been so humiliated in my entire life.”

He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know what to do. I never imagined you’d make the first move. I thought it would be about me not bringing you over to the dark side. I had no idea you were already there.”

“I’m more of a dark side poser,” I say. “For example, I’m still not sure this is really happening. That I’m laying horizontally on your couch with you, and your tongue was just in my mouth.”

He kisses me once, twice, three times before speaking again. “I felt like such a dick for shooting you down like that. I was going to tell you how I felt but not…not this. I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, you did.” I wrap a leg around him and draw him closer until our bodies are practically glued together. “You can’t take it back now.”

“You’re right. Guess I’m not as much of a good guy as I’d like to be.” He tucks my hair behind my ears and looks me over carefully.

“You’re horrible,” I say. “I’m completely ruined. Morally corrupt, destined for prostitution and credit card fraud.”

“After all the trouble I’ve been in, worrying about this probably seems pretty lame,” he explains. “But you know how there are some people who can criticize you over and over and their lashing will barely even penetrate the surface? And then there are other people who can say nothing more than, ‘I’m disappointed in you’ and it feels like a kick in the nuts? You can’t just shake it off?”

Unfortunately, I know exactly what he means. And it’s the same exact person who’s had that effect on me almost my entire life.

Dad.

I bury my face in Brody’s chest again, pressing myself tight against him. His hand moves over my hair. “This is insane,” I say. “Not that I haven’t wanted to be in this exact position for weeks and weeks, but think about it? My dad aside, I can’t just be…be your—”

“Girlfriend?” he finishes.

I lift my eyes to meet his. “I wasn’t going to go there, but I’m just thinking of the bigger picture. It doesn’t matter that you’re not even two years older than me—you’re a professional baseball player and I’m a girl in high school. You can’t fool around with high school girls, right? I imagine that’s not just Savannah’s rule.”

His forehead is creased with lines of worry. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I don’t know, Annie… Do you want to stop right now? Just because I like you doesn’t mean you have to be with me. I’m still here in whatever form you want me.”

The look on his face, the tone of his voice—confused and fearful—he’s not some grown man taking advantage of a teenage girl. He’s just Brody. Vulnerable and impulsive and young. Brody who lives in this practically empty apartment and goes on five minute long fake dates then returns here or to his hotel room on the road, completely alone. Brody who has never met his own dad and has no contact with his mother anymore, no other family to my knowledge. Brody whose position on the team creates jealousy and rivalry way more than it does friendships.

He should be allowed to have someone real in his life. No one deserves to be alone at nineteen.

But really he does have someone—Dad. And if he finds out about this, well that could be it for their bond.

I press my palm against his forehead, trying to rub out the wrinkles. “You know what? It’s none of anyone’s business what you and I think of each other. You don’t have another girlfriend or a wife and a few kids or anything, right?”

He laughs and his face finally relaxes. “Nope.” He cups my face and kisses me again, and I know that I don’t care how much work it will be to hide this so long as I don’t have to stop.

“Let me get this straight,” Brody says, lifting another slice from the box of pizza we had delivered for dinner. “I text you what I want posted, and then you post it for me and fix my mistakes?”

“Yep,” I say after relaying Savannah’s social media plan to him. “And since I’m her official intern, you have a legit reason to be sending me text messages. Like all the time, if you want.”

A grin slowing spreads across his face. “Clever, Annie.”

He leans in to kiss me, but I put up a hand to stop him. “I just ate pizza.” That doesn’t deter him at all. He grips the back of my neck and gently brings our lips together before pulling away and going back to his slice of pizza.

After Brody finishes his dinner, he turns all serious again. “You’re ignoring your phone, aren’t you? You know you can’t stay here all night.”

I sink further into the couch cushion. “I can’t go home. I don’t want to look at her. I don’t want to hear his excuses, his plea for me to understand his perspective, because you know what? There’s not one fucking thing that I can comprehend, let alone accept, when it comes to him and Mom.”

Brody stares at me for a long moment and then pulls out his phone to text someone. I wait in silence, avoiding asking if he’s texting Dad. I’d like to think he knows better than to do that. He finally sets the phone on the coffee table beside the nearly empty pizza box. “Savannah said you could stay over there tonight. She’ll let your dad know.”

I glance at the clock on the cable box. It’s almost ten. Lily’s already asleep, and I’d hate to make Savannah wait up for me. I don’t want to leave this apartment. I’m half expecting a spell to break once I step out the front door and this whole Brody being into me thing will be over. Or maybe it won’t have even happened?

As if sensing my concerns, Brody squeezes my knee, leaving his hand on my leg. “There’s nothing I want more than to keep you here all night, but we’re too smart and conniving to get caught on the first day, right?”

I lean my head against his shoulder and close my eyes. “Yeah, I guess.”

He’s silent for a couple minutes and then finally exhales. “Before you go, I have, like, two or three more things to say.”

I tilt my head up to see his face. “Okay?”

His eyes stay forward, focused on the door. “When I told you about dismissing all the chicks that trampled into my room, well, there was one girl who—” He speeds up, trying to spit everything out quickly. “Went all dominatrix on me and had me up against a wall for a good five minutes and I’ll be completely honest and admit that it was pretty hot until I started envisioning what would come next—whips, chains, floggers—this chick seemed like the type to bypass handcuffs. And she was strong as hell. It took me awhile to get her off me and then I had to call security—”

He stops talking after noticing that I’m shaking with laughter. I’d started the second he said the word
dominatrix
. I can’t picture some curvy, big-breasted girl in five-inch heels being able to physically overtake Brody with his six foot stature and athlete’s strength.

“It wasn’t funny,” he says, but the corners of his mouth are twitching. “She had a really big purse, too. Who knows what was in that thing?”

“Floggers and chains, right?” I wrap an arm around my midsection, trying to rub away the cramp I’ve just given myself from laughing so hard with a stomach full of root beer and extra cheese pizza. “Okay, what’s the second confession?”

He lifts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer. “I used to use a fake ID a lot, drink a lot, occasional one-night stands. The day I got to Kansas City, there was this girl I met at a bar I went to with Jake London. I brought her back to the guesthouse…”

My entire body stiffens even though I’m screaming at it not to react. “Brody, seriously, we don’t need to play confession. In fact, I’m totally cool with being oblivious to any of that.”

He rests his chin on top of my head and sighs. “This isn’t going to work if you try and stay away from rumors and information that gets leaked out. It’s impossible to avoid and you’re always going to wonder if there’s truth in it. So, I’m telling you now that you’ll hear everything from me—the good, the bad, and the really ugly—whether you want to or not. That’s how I roll.”

I’m temporarily stunned. It sounds like a terrible idea and yet I don’t see a better way for us to trust each other. “You can’t help the fact that girls are constantly coming up to you and asking you to sign their boobs—”

“I haven’t signed any boobs,” he interrupts.

“Boobs, belly buttons—same thing.”

He straightens up and lifts my chin before planting a kiss on my forehead. “No secrets, I promise. That’s about the only thing I can promise right this second.”

“Can you promise not to like my mom no matter how hard she tries to wrap you around her finger?” I ask. “She has a way with men.”

“I promise. Consider my ballot already cast. Can’t change sides now.”

Reluctantly, I stand up, grab my keys from the coffee table, and both of us head toward the front door. Before I open it, Brody turns me around, pressing himself against me and giving me another long kiss good-bye. I lift my hands above my head in surrender. “Take me to your red room of pain.”

He laughs and gently brings my hands back down to my sides. “I should have never told you that story.”

“I guess I’ll see you when you get back from California.” Three days seems like forever and this constant in and out of town is a regular occurrence for Brody and Dad.

His entire body presses against mine, heat spreading from one area to another until I’m hot all over and contemplating telling Savannah that I’m not staying with her tonight. When he pulls away, the whoosh of cold, air-conditioned air flows between us, reminding me of my life outside of kissing this boy.

“I’ll miss you,” he says, light as a whisper when he leans down one last time to kiss my cheek.

I finally stumble out the door, down the elevator, and back to my car. I’m already wishing for more. For next time. Wishing I’d taken off my shirt too and felt our bare skin pressing together. A shiver runs up my spine as I pull out of the parking garage and head toward Savannah’s neighborhood.

Chapter 19

I’m so used to Savannah in her business dressy attire, heels included, that I hardly recognize her when she opens her apartment door wearing sweats, her long reddish-brown hair pulled back in a messy bun and glasses in place of her contacts.

“Sorry, I know it’s late,” I say.

She shakes her head and swings the door open wider. “No worries. I was up getting some work done.”

I step inside, taking in the living room/dining room/kitchen combo. There’s a pink and purple Lego house and extra pieces strewn all over the coffee table. Neatly folded laundry covers the dining room table, and a basket of unfolded clothes sits on the floor beside the table. But the furniture and decorations are all nice and homey—warm. Nothing like Brody’s lonely place.

Savannah catches me examining her place, and she tosses a sheepish grin at me before moving quickly to stack up the laundry into more condensed piles. “Life of a single mom. Can’t possibly keep everything in order.”

“Believe me, I know all about not being able to keep things in order.” I take a seat on the floor in front of the couch and study the Lego project.

She shuffles down the hall and returns with two pillows and a blanket. “Are you okay with sleeping on the couch?”

“Totally,” I say. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

She sits down on the sofa, her hands now wrapped around a mug of tea. “I called your dad. He’s really worried about you, but I told him it was too late to come over here and start a family feud.”

I swallow back my anger and tears, putting the excess energy into snapping Lego pieces together. “Does Lily see her dad?”

Savannah’s eyebrows go up, indicating that I may have crossed the line and asked too personal of a question, but she answers me anyway, “Yes, she does. Not as often as she’d like. She’s not exactly a priority for him, unfortunately.”

“What made you want to get divorced, like officially? Is it so you or he could get married again?”

She stares over the top of my head and releases a breath. “I guess my reasons all revolved around him not being a very trustworthy person. I needed everything on paper—child support, visitation.”

I add more pieces to the sidewall of Lily’s house, keeping my eyes focused on the coffee table. “How did you meet him?”

“College,” she says with a sigh, relaxing back into the couch. “I got pregnant when I was twenty. We decided getting married was the best idea ever. I finished school by the time Lily was two and already it wasn’t working. We bought a house in another suburb not too far from here after I started working. By the time Lily was three, I knew it was over.”

“Did you just pack up and move one day?”

“Pretty much.” She takes a sip of her tea. “Once I made the decision to leave, I wanted it to happen fast. My parents came down from Chicago and helped me move here and helped me get a lawyer, and then it was done.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“Which part?” She laughs. “Getting married or getting divorced?”

I finally get brave enough to peel my eyes from the toys. “Both.”

“I don’t regret meeting Lily’s dad because then I wouldn’t have her, and she’s amazing,” she says. “But I suppose I didn’t have to get married. And no, I don’t regret the divorce.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Now tell me what this feud with your dad is about. Obviously it’s not another PR issue or else we’d all have our noses in it, right?”

My focus is back on the Lego house, which I’ve decided is supposed to be a beauty shop. “My mom’s here.” I take a deep breath. “I came home from my community service and there she was, lounging on the couch with Dad and Grams like she belonged.”

Confusion fills Savannah’s face. “They’re not divorced?”

“Nope.” I pound my fist into a stubborn piece, forcing it to mold together. I explain to her about the show she’s auditioned for and been granted a part in and through a bit more prodding Savannah gets me to spill almost as many details to her as I told to Brody about Mom.

“Do you think she wants a second chance? Maybe things aren’t going well with her pursuit for fame.”

I laugh bitterly. “Second chance? Try five hundredth chance. And she’s only here because she knows about my dad’s job now. She probably caught a game on TV or had an old friend call her up to tell her, but that would only provide her with a city. He had to have told her where we live, and he promised me he wouldn’t do that.”

“Have you ever really tried with her?” Savannah asks. “Tried to understand your mom’s perspective or at least confronted her about why she keeps leaving?”

I shrug. “When I was younger, probably. I always wanted her to stay because it made Dad happy but never for me. I don’t think she’s ever known what to do with a kid besides dress them up for other people to admire. I was always in her way. Always bugging her and asking questions she didn’t want to answer. Everything to do with taking care of me was too hard and too messy. Nothing like her idealistic version of motherhood, which probably included my dad signing multimillion dollar contracts with the Yankees and her hiring five nannys to take care of the kid she never wanted to have.” I sniffle and discreetly wipe away a couple tears from my cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” Savannah says. “But honestly, you’re doing fine without her so if you want to write her off, go for it. And maybe if your dad doesn’t, let him make his choice?”

“I’d do that,” I say. “I totally would, but you haven’t seen him after she takes off. He’s a wreck, and I’m left to deal with it. And you heard Frank last month. Dad’s got a lot on the line right now. He can’t afford a breakdown.”

Savannah pats my shoulder. “Well, you don’t have to handle it alone anymore. A big part of my job is to deal with my players’ and coaches’ breakdowns and scandals. I do whatever I have to to get them in proper working order again.”

A tiny smidge of relief washes over me. From my time spent around this woman, I’ve quickly learned that she gets things done, even when it seems impossible. And based on that list Brody referenced of all the actual past scandals, maybe she’s cleaned up bigger messes than Dad after a visit from Mom.

“Why do you think he can’t let go?” I ask. “It’s not like she’s the only option for him. He’s a good-looking guy, right? He’s not super old and he’s fit and still has all his hair, and he has that Kevin Costner, brooding silence thing going on. Women would probably go crazy over that.”

Color has crept up to Savannah’s cheeks, and she smiles down at her mug. “He’s not a hopeless cause, if that’s what you’re asking. And I can’t tell you why he won’t let her go, but that doesn’t change how he feels about you. He’s the one shouldering the responsibility of raising you, and I can tell you from experience, keeping a little girl out of trouble and preparing her for the world is no easy feat and Lily isn’t even seven yet. I think it’s all uphill from here.”

I lean against the couch, resting my head on the cushion. “I’m so scared of being like him and at the same time I’m petrified of being like her. The way I see it, I’m doomed when it comes to relationships. I’m destined to end up like one of them, right?”

“Maybe not.” Savannah smiles at me and pats my leg before standing up. “I better get some sleep. Lily’s got to be at art camp at seven thirty.”

I lie on the couch for nearly an hour, unable to fall asleep. I finally reach for my phone and turn it back on. Ignoring the texts and missed calls from Dad, I read the message Brody’s sent since I left his place.

BRODY: Can you post this on FB for me? “if u r lucky enough to get a pretty girl alone in ur apartment, don’t be stupid and make her leave.”

ME: You really want me to post that?

BRODY: Its good advice. I want to have a positive impact on others.

ME: What about pretty girls with big bags of equipment? Should you warn people about them?

BRODY: Shouldve kept that story to myself. btw my couch smells like u. Can’t get myself to stop sniffing the cushion. Is that weird?

ME: last night after you hugged me, I kept sniffing my shirt all the way home

BRODY: well I did reek of booze. And I’m pretty sure u hugged me

ME: but you were the one who lingered past the allotted friend time limit

BRODY: Yes I did

ME: Can I ask you something? You probably don’t even remember what you said, but I’m wondering about that random Spanish…

BRODY: The tornado warning?

ME: Yes. That. I couldn’t recall it well enough to translate later. Do you remember what you said?

BRODY: Yes.

ME: ????

BRODY: How bad do u want to know?

ME: Really bad now that I know you’re trying to keep it from me!!

BRODY: You make me happy

ME: I like that

BRODY: I want to tell you all my secrets

ME: Like this secret?

BRODY: Yeah, like this. I’ll tell you the rest in Spanish next time and you can figure it out. Tutoring at its best

ME: I can live with that

I’m grinning at my phone like an idiot. Yes, I could definitely become attached to Jason Brody in a dangerous way.

After being woken up at seven in the morning by Lily, who offered up several words of praise about last night’s Lego building efforts, I headed home to face Dad and probably Mom, too. I wanted to put it off longer, but decided that Savannah had enough to deal with without having me and my drama hanging around her apartment all morning.

Dad’s car is already gone, and I find Grams walking in circles around the yard. “Ginny,” she says when she sees me. “Where have you been? I couldn’t get that damn stove to work.”

My heart plummets down to my stomach. I reach for Grams and guide her by her yellow nightgown back onto the porch and force her to sit in the swing. I race into the house. My tennis shoes, wet from morning dew on the grass, squeak across the tile floor. Sure enough, smoke is filling the kitchen, the detector beeping like crazy. I yank the frying pan from the burner, toss it into the sink and hit the lever, allowing a stream of cold water to land on top of the blackened egg in the center of the pan.

I jump back when the water hits the heated pan and sizzles loudly, producing flying bits of hot and cold water and more smoke and steam. I yank a chair under the smoke detector and climb on top, shutting the thing off by pulling out the battery. Once I get the kitchen windows open and about 10 percent of the smoke drifts outside, I take in the demolished kitchen.

A carton of eggs lies open on the counter and several cracked eggs and shells are dripping down the dark wood cabinets and onto the floor. An open bag of flour on the stove is tipped over, white powder scattered everywhere. A lump of raw ground sausage is plopped in the center of another frying pan, though luckily that burner hasn’t been turned on. I gasp when I see the sharp knife and the plastic casing the sausage came in lying beside the frying pan.

What the hell was Dad thinking leaving her alone?

But there’s no time to ponder this poor decision or even to be pissed off. I ignore the mess and the dripping eggs for now and get a pot to make Grams’ oatmeal. It takes until the water starts boiling for my heart to finally slow down. A few minutes later, I bring Grams into the kitchen and set the bowl of oatmeal in front of her and then begin to tackle the train-wreck kitchen.

I’m scooping runny eggs and shells into the garbage disposal when Grams starts banging her spoon against the table. Her face is twisted with anger. “What is this shit? I made sausage gravy and biscuits!”

“Remember what your doctor said?” Who am I kidding? She doesn’t remember my name. There’s zero chance of her recalling the results of her yearly cholesterol screening. “You can’t eat eggs or gravy and biscuits. They make your cholesterol too high.”

“Horse shit!” She pelts the glass bowl at the wall. It shatters, spraying oatmeal and brown sugar everywhere. And unlike Dad, I added extra
extra
brown sugar to make it taste better. “There’s not a damn thing wrong with my cholesterol.” She points a finger at me, tipping her chair backward and walking in my direction, her wild gray hair sticking out in every direction. “You little liar. You’ve always been up to no good.”

The front door opens just as Grams jabs me in the chest with her finger. My hands are shaking. I’ve never seen her this angry and even though I’m pissed as hell at Dad I want him here to help. I’m not sure I can handle this.

But it’s not Dad who walks through the door, it’s Caroline, Grams’ babysitter. The sixty-five-year-old Hispanic lady glances around at the kitchen and at Grams, then gives me a tiny smile. “Rough morning?”

I let out a shaky breath, making sure my voice will come out steady. “I got home from…from a sleepover and Dad was gone. Grams was cooking, and now she won’t eat the oatmeal—”

“You’re goddamn right I won’t,” Grams snaps. “I’ll fix my own damn breakfast you conniving little—”

“Annie?” a new voice comes from the other side of the screen door. Before I can check to see who it is, Savannah walks in, her eyes sweeping the kitchen and Grams’ angry face. “I just wanted to stop by after I dropped Lily off to see if everything was okay?”

“What happened to your mother?” Caroline asks, her voice heavy with concern and her accent. “Your father said she would be here this morning, and I could wait until nine to come in. I’m sorry, honey.”

“No freakin’ way.” I squeeze my hands into tight fists and stalk down the hall toward Dad’s room. The curtains are drawn tightly closed but even in the dark, a long lump under the covers is clearly visible. I flip on the light switch and even then it takes Mom several seconds to raise her head and look around. Her gaze lands on the clock beside the bed. “It’s early, Annie…give me a little longer to wake up. I’ve got rehearsal until midnight tonight.”

“How could you sleep through the smoke alarm?” I demand, not making any attempt to turn off the light or lower my voice. “Grams almost burned the whole house down, and she could have sliced her finger off using a fucking knife!”

Mom sits up, rolls her eyes, and tosses the covers aside revealing an extremely skimpy piece of lingerie. “I didn’t know Mom was awake. How am I supposed to know? It’s not like she came in here and asked me for help.”