by L. M. Carr
My brother snarls playfully. “It’ll be gone soon enough.”
The normal thirty-minute drive to the restaurant takes forty-five but is filled with easy conversation about sports and my brother’s contract negotiations. After this season, he will once again be a very talented free agent. Word amongst analysts is that two teams are vying for him, both willing to pay top dollar. Despite his size, Rence’s agility ranks him amongst the best defensive linemen in the entire NFL.
“Would you really consider going to Buffalo? They sure could use you on defense.”
Rence wrinkles his nose playfully and shivers. “I’m not really a cold weather guy.”
I laugh, countering his claim. “We grew up in New England!”
“Fine. I’m not a cold weather guy anymore.”
I continue to badger him with the rumors I’ve heard around the office. Almost everyone there would like to see him down south.
“What about Jacksonville?” I ask as the restaurant’s sign comes into view.
“Maybe. I’d much rather play somewhere warm. My bones ache in the cold.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “You’re turning thirty-six. Don’t expect your AARP card anytime soon.”
When we pull into Watertable’s parking lot, we see a few of his teammates standing around, joining us for a night of legendary food and scrumptious libations. I never miss an opportunity to dine here when I’m in town.
“AJ!” Once I step out of the truck, I’m swept up and enveloped in massive arms. “You made it!”
I laugh and kiss his cheek as he sets me down. “Tyreek Smith! Of course I’m here. I wouldn’t miss the old man’s birthday.”
Rence laughs. “Oh, now I’m old?”
Tyreek clasps my brother’s shoulder and raises his eyebrows as we walk into the restaurant. I quickly raise my hand to acknowledge the other four men standing there. “Uh, well, I did have to remind you about a meeting we had with J—”
My brother’s eyes shoot to his best friend. “Fuck you, bro! I was trying to forget that shit on purpose.”
“And how many times did I have to remind you about tonight? You kept thinking it was next week.”
“Again, I was trying to avoid a crowd. You know how much I hate being the center of attention.”
His comment elicits a round of boisterous laughter and heckling from the others as we stop at the host stand.
“Bro, you are the epitome of an attention whore. You’re worse than a Kardashian,” a husky voice announces. I tilt my neck to see a face I recognize immediately.
A low rumble emerges from my brother’s chest. “Who the fuck invited you?”
Tyreek steps in, resting a hand on my brother’s shoulder, speaking quietly. “It’s all good, man. He already apologized for what he said after the game, remember?”
Rence scratches the back of his head, then glares at his teammate, Alonzo “Doc” Richie. It feels like an eternity as we all wait for Rence’s reaction. Nodding, he seemingly lets go of the hostility...at least for the time being.
My eyes snap to Alonzo’s, a smirk appearing on my face. “Epitome? Look at you using big words.” I place my hand to his bicep and stroke patronizingly with a huge, exaggerated smile.
Alonzo’s hazel eyes sparkle with mischief as he steps close to my side. His slight drawl drops to a whisper. “Aw, come on now, girl. You know words ain’t the only big thing I’ve got.”
I scoff, vaguely remembering the truth of his words. “Yeah… Okay, Doc.”
Rence shoves his teammate’s chest. “Back the fuck up! That’s my sister you’re talking to!”
I chuckle and reach for my sibling’s arm. “Settle down. I can handle him.”
“See, Hamilton.” Alonzo grins and continues to antagonize Rence, whose expression is now hard. “She can handle me.” When he adds a wink, I groan inwardly, fearing for his life.
“Touch my sister again and I’ll break your fingers…then your hands.”
“Yeah, we all know how good you are at breaking things,” Tyreek chuckles.
What began as playful banter soon escalates into tension until Tyreek and Logan suggest we all have a drink to relax.
Rence sighs. “I’ll be back.”
The restaurant is filled to capacity, each table, as well as the L-shaped bar, claimed by hungry patrons. The waitstaff, dressed in black, scurry around to deliver food and drink.
Finally seated at a large table, I take a sip of the glass of pinot noir and smile at Rence as he walks up and sits, a calm settling over him, the tension dissipating. I furrow my brow in question, but he just winks at me.
Tyreek taps the photo app on his phone and holds it up for us to see. “Look at my baby girl. Isn’t she cute?” In every picture, a proud smile stretches across the face of the new father.
I gush about how beautiful she is, then tease, “She must take after her mother.”
He laughs. “Come on, girl! Don’t say that!” Shaking his head while closing the app, Tyreek pinches his lips.
“How is Gabby anyway?”
His expression falls at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. “She’s all right.”
“Really?” I question skeptically.
The rumor mill went wild when she was spotted leaving another man’s apartment shortly after the birth of their daughter. It was quite a scandal amongst the players.…or at least the ones who cared. Seems society accepts when men cheat, but when a woman does it, it’s a whole different story.
“We’re trying to work things out...at least for Raya.”
With a keen eye, I observe his saddened countenance and the hard swallow before he exhales heavily.
I reach out and touch his forearm. “Hey, give it some time. Gabby’s heart needs to heal.”
Tyreek nods slowly. “I know. I fucked up and hurt her bad. My mom thinks going to that guy’s apartment was her way to try to get back at me.”
Not wanting to add insult to injury by speaking of his infidelity, I shrug and pull my hand away. “This league changes people. Just remember who you are and what’s most important to you.”
“You, too.”
His words, although meant as encouraging, strike a nerve. After my spread in Maxim hit newsstands, Rence didn’t speak to me for nearly six weeks. He was mortified that his little sister exposed herself for the world to see. He knew what all his friends were thinking, but I didn’t care. I had one objective when I agreed to do that shoot. I wanted Julian to look at it and see what he was missing out on. Unfortunately, the only thing I accomplished was making a slew of bad choices…one after the other.
Tortured by the fact that my brother refused to speak to me, I flew to California, went to the stadium and waited by his truck. He had no choice but to face me. It was one of the only days it rained in Southern California. The tears that sprang from our eyes when we saw each other mingled with the raindrops. I had learned my brother agonized over the idea that he’d somehow failed in protecting me.
My cell phone, which sits on the table, rings. Reaching for it, I read the name and quickly glance at Rence. I exhale and send up a silent word of gratitude that my brother is engaged in conversation. Not wanting to ruin his birthday celebration, I send the call to voicemail. A moment later, a text message comes through.
Wish your brother a happy birthday for me. I miss you both.
“So, AJ… Rumor has it that you’re doing a sit-down with MacIntyre,” Logan says while shoveling a large piece of cheesy garlic bread into his mouth.
“Oh god… I don’t want to talk about work,” I rebuff with a pointed glare, hoping he catches my drift and changes the subject. “We’re here to celebrate Rence’s birthday.”
Logan holds his hands up defensively. “Cool, but just make sure you wear something sexy.”
Accustomed to their jokes, I fist my hand and hold it up. “You won’t be able to see what I’m wearing if I give you a black eye, will you?” I smirk and raise my glass, taking a sip.
Paul chimes in. “
Whatever you do, don’t get all girly and shit. I hear women can’t resist his smile.”
I raise my chin defiantly. “I think I’ll be just fine.” I hope. “Now, can we please talk about something else?”
Alonzo chuckles and holds up his phone for us to see. “Seems another hot model fell for his fake-ass smile.”
As if seeing them on the cover of the magazine yesterday wasn’t enough, as well as at the basketball game, another image reminds me of their relationship.
An Instagram photo of Gigi Asher and Julian displays the happy couple smiling while posing for a selfie. Her dark hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, defining her high cheekbones, perfect nose and red lips. Julian looks gorgeous as ever, but something in his expression seems…off, like he’s just going through the motions.
My heart plummets as my fingertips, fueled by desire and longing, twitch, wanting to reach out and caress his face. A face I once touched without restriction. A face I once kissed without hesitation. A face I once loved without condition. A face belonging to the man I once thought I would spend the rest of my life with.
“How are things in Houston?”
Logan’s question distracts me.
“Houston is home,” I reply, keeping my answer vague.
“Oh shit, ya’ll. They’re here?” Alonzo jumps to his feet and looks around the packed restaurant, then scrutinizes the photo. “I need to find him. My agent said he wants to talk to me about next season.”
Panicked, I reach over to stop Alonzo from creating a scene and accidentally knock over my glass of wine, then curse when the puddle of red stains my white shirt.
A string of profanity flies from my mouth. Furious, I push from the table and excuse myself, then rush through the crowd, tossing out hurried, insincere apologies
My body comes to a screeching halt when a man takes hold of my arm. “Hey, beautiful! Aren’t you a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader?”
“No,” I reply, jerking my arm out of his grip. It’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken for Ashley Mirren. She and I look very much alike, so it was really weird for me when Rence dated her.
“Wait, I know,” he says, grasping my arm again, words slurring, sleazy grin on his face. “You’re that chick from ESPN.”
I spin around and glare at the older man whose black dress shirt is unbuttoned just enough to display his chest hair. I don’t bother to correct him about my place of employment. “I suggest you let go of me immediately,” I hiss.
His glassy eyes and slight sway to his body reveal his level of intoxication. “You’re even sexier in person. Those pictures didn’t do you justice, sweetheart.”
I no longer see this drunken man in front of me. I see every predator who has ever made a suggestive comment or tried to put his hands on me.
“You know what?” I ask, stepping closer to narrow the space between us. “You really shouldn’t touch a woman without her permission.”
My right knee rises quickly, making direct contact with his balls. He sucks in a breath and his face crumples as he goes down like a pile of bricks, holding himself and writhing on the floor.
“Asshole,” I murmur, spinning around and making a beeline for the ladies’ room.
I lock myself into a stall and sit there, ignoring the germs probably on the toilet seat.
A million things race through my mind.
My brother…
My mother…
My career…
My Julian…
I almost slap myself in the face at the last thought.
Julian MacIntyre is not mine. He doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to Gigi Asher. In a few weeks, he’ll likely belong to someone else. The memories of Julian are just that…memories. Ones that need to be forgotten and erased, because nothing good will ever come from revisiting the past.
I exit the stall and wash my hands, then look down at my shirt, wondering if I should put water on it. I sigh, knowing it’s pointless. My tunic is ruined.
“Try club soda.”
I look up to see the reflection of a stunning woman in the mirror and freeze, trying to appear unaffected by her presence.
Gigi Asher.
“Thanks.”
“You’re really pretty. Are you a model?” she asks as she cocks her head, eyeing me from head to toe.
I laugh humorlessly. “No.”
“Are you sure? You look really familiar.”
Shrugging, I offer her a tight smile. “I’m pretty sure I would know if I were a model. I guess I just have one of those faces.”
“You’ve got such long legs. If you were younger, you’d kill it on the runway.”
Judging by the expression on my face, Gigi must realize how offensive her statement sounded.
“Oh, my god!” she says, raising her petite hand to stifle a giggle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. My boyfriend says I should think before I speak.”
I slowly nod. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
A red tint kisses her cheeks, revealing her embarrassment. “It’s usually the other way around for me. I tend to speak before I think.”
“Your boyfriend must be really—”
“Hot?” she purrs, tipping her head back dramatically. “You have no idea. He’s so—”
“Smart,” I interject sharply. “I was going to say he must be really smart.”
Gigi lifts a bare shoulder and offers a coy smile. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he’s that, too. We don’t spend a lot of time talking, if you know what I mean.” She waggles her brows.
My stomach roils and the hair on my neck stands on end. I want to rush to Julian’s defense. Want to tell her how smart he was in high school and the fact that if he hadn’t gotten a full scholarship to play football, he would’ve gotten one on academics. But I stay silent. That Julian doesn’t exist anymore.
I walk over to the hand dryer, then look over my shoulder as Gigi reapplies her lipstick. She stares at herself in the mirror, angling her face to the right and the left, pouting her lips, as if she’s in the middle of a photo shoot. Apparently satisfied with what she sees, she nods and smiles in approval.
I inhale quietly and wonder about how shallow Julian has become. Aside from her physical beauty, what can he possibly see in her? What do they talk about? Does she even like football?
“Can I give you a bit of advice?”
I blink, returning to reality.
“You should really use a different shade on your lips and apply a couple more coats of mascara to make your eyes pop.”
My lips tighten into a hard smile. “Thanks for the tip.” Exaggerated sarcasm oozes from me. “I’m so glad I ran into you. How can I ever thank you?”
Gigi smiles brightly. “No worries. My mother always needs help with her makeup, too.”
With that, I’m left alone in the bathroom, feeling...old.
Sighing, I throw my belt into the trash and unbutton the bottom of my shirt, twisting it into a knot to hide the wine stain, and step out of the bathroom. Adjusting the material, I mumble about how “Gigi” is a great name for a dog.
“Addison?”
I freeze. I know that voice. Slowly dragging my eyes up, I stare into the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.
“My god…” His shocked voice trails off as he blinks several times.
“Julian,” I whisper breathlessly as the blood drains from my face and rushes to my heart, causing it to beat wildly. It’s been so long since I’ve stood before him. The years felt like an eternity, but right now, it seems as if mere seconds have gone by.
The noises of the busy restaurant silenced, I can only hear his voice.
“Still so beautiful,” he sighs as the lips I’d kissed a thousand times transform into an appreciative smile while his eyes scan my face, roaming over my cheeks and eyes before focusing on my mouth.
“Don’t,” I snap. “Don’t you dare.”
“But it’s true. You’re still as beautiful as you were the first day I saw you.”
My eyes close and my body responds to the words. I am transported to a time long forgotten, the memories rushing forward, causing my pulse to palpitate frantically and whoosh in my ears. I fight hard to maintain control of my emotions, but one look at this man and I’m suddenly seventeen again. Just a girl in love with a boy. The past I’ve fought so hard to forget flashes in a vivid array of still moments in time.
My hand releases the hold on my shirt and clutches my chest, quelling the ache deep in my heart. The carefully woven seams begin to unravel, exposing the pieces of my broken heart as I recall the love…the lies…the loss.
After momentarily wrestling with the idea of either grabbing his face and kissing him or slapping the smile off his lips, I reopen my eyes, staring at him blankly, devoid of any emotion. The only hint of my anger is revealed when I raise my chin defiantly as my lips tighten.
With the addition of my heels, I stand nearly eye to eye with him. Unable to pull my gaze away, I force myself to swallow as I command my legs to move, but I’m cemented in place.
Narrowing his eyes, he tilts his head subtly as if he doesn’t understand my reaction. “It’s been a long time,” he says, raising a hand to glide over the scruff on his chin before moving it around to the nape of his neck.
“Has it? I hadn’t noticed.”
I allow myself an opportunity to take in his appearance. Julian’s tall, athletic body is covered by black dress pants and a blue shirt that almost matches the hue of his eyes.
He drops his hand when he notices my attention following it. He seems to suddenly remember that I am privy to the telltale sign of his agitation.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “How’ve you been?”
I stare at him, his casual demeanor stirring up the storm in my heart. He tries again.
“Are you in California now?”
Has he suddenly forgotten who I am? Forgotten what he did to me? Forgotten the words he screamed at me?
My lip curls in disgust, but my chin is on the verge of quivering. “Are you serious right now? Are you really going to stand here and try to have a conversation with me? You have some fucking nerve!”
As if surprised by my outburst, Julian looks away, then returns his eyes to me, a slow smile spreading.
