The Middle Man

by Gadziala, Jessica

  "Go. Back. To. Your. Room." With that, he dropped my wrist, turned, walked back into his bathroom, and slammed the door.

  Rejection was a part of life. I wasn't sure anyone could go through their entire lifespan without knowing the sting of it, the burning embarrassment connected to it.

  But this felt different.

  Stronger.

  Damn near overpowering.

  There was a crushing sensation in my chest, compressing all my air, making me feel lightheaded as I moved out into the hall.

  I planned on just going back to my room, licking my wounds, finding whatever it was that might help me be able to face him in the morning.

  My feet, though, were dead-set on another direction. Down the stairs. Toward my purse. Into the garage. Then toward my car. Into the driver's side.

  My hands joined in, clicking the button clipped to my visor that Lincoln had given me so I didn't have to keep climbing out to plug in the code, grabbing the wheel, putting it into reverse, and getting myself the hell out of there.

  In my barely-there pajamas at midnight, I decided against my apartment.

  For two reasons.

  David.

  And now Lincoln.

  I would face him when I could find some control, when I could put on a brave mask.

  By my count, I had about eleven hours to master that.

  And it would be something I would have to accomplish in the rooms at the closest hotel--an unsuspecting stucco place off the highway where the front desk attendant spared my outfit the briefest of glances before handing me a key, rattling off instructions on how to get to my room.

  Once inside, I turned off my phone, threw myself onto the bed, and proceeded to spend the next several hours trying to find the right words to say to him when I saw him at the party.

  After catching a scant forty-minutes of sleep, I showered, dressed in the spare outfit I had in my trunk, then spent a half an hour before the party standing in front of the mirror trying to force a convincing smile, one that masked the purple smudges that spoke of sleeplessness and the deep well of uncertainty buried within.

  I failed.

  But figured it would have to do.

  I would have to face the music.

  I would have to face him.

  While surrounded by people who weren't supposed to know that we were even in contact, let alone enough of it to have issues.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  FIVE

  Lincoln

  She refused to answer her fucking phone.

  While the logical part of me understood that she was likely hurt, embarrassed, completely disinterested in speaking to me at all, the other part was irrational and freaked.

  She'd left on her own, of course.

  I'd heard the garage door opening, had booked it down the stairs, but by the time I got down there, she was nothing but taillights at the end of the cul-de-sac.

  I'd run back inside, throwing on a shirt, grabbing keys, then taking off to try to track her down.

  I had nothing planned, no right words.

  Generally speaking, I never struggled with how to communicate with a woman. I'd spent enough time with them--both at work and in my personal life--to be able to figure out what to say to deescalate a difficult situation.

  But I had nothing here.

  What could I say?

  I'd rejected her.

  Without a reason.

  And I hadn't even been nice about it.

  In my defense, it was hard to think properly when all your blood was located somewhere other than your head.

  All I managed to think clearly was that it couldn't happen. That I needed to stop it. That she needed to go back to her room.

  So that was what I told her to do.

  In retrospect, it was a bad move.

  That was what I needed to tell her. That I was sorry for how I reacted, that I hadn't been thinking clearly, that I should have found a kinder way of ending the situation.

  And that she needed to come back with me, that the whole thing was not worth risking her safety over.

  When I checked out her place, finding neither her car in the lot nor her lights on, that was when I started freaking out. Getting desperate.

  I drove past Kai and Jules' place. Which also happened to be across the street from Jules and Gemma's parents.

  She wasn't there either.

  I knew she had once had a pretty extensive friend network. No surprise there, given how easily she got along with everyone. But she'd told me herself a few nights ago that college had scattered everyone around the country, even around the world, and that no one really seemed inclined to maintain connections anymore anyway.

  She still had friends, but they weren't as tight-knit of a bunch as they once had been. Adulthood had unloaded a lot of responsibilities on them that sapped all their extra energy, their extra time.

  So while she said they saw each other regularly enough, I didn't figure any were the kinds of friendships where she would randomly show up on their doorsteps after midnight.

  The last place I had to look was the office.

  Even as I parked and headed inside, I knew I wouldn't find her there, that she clearly wanted to get lost. To lose me.

  She'd accomplished it, too.

  Defeated, I had no choice but to head back home.

  I didn't give up, of course. I blew up her phone like the mother of a teenager three hours late for curfew as I drank bottomless pots of coffee and paced my fucking house until well after sunup.

  I knew Gemma well enough to know there wasn't a damn thing--least of all a somewhat uncomfortable interaction with a man she knew--that could keep her away from her niece and nephew. Especially on a birthday.

  I comforted myself with that idea as I dressed, wrapped up my present, hauled the giant thing back into my car, and made my way across town to Kai and Jules' place.

  I was early--a trait I wasn't typically known for--but the driveway was already loaded down with familiar cars.

  Squeals and laughter met me as I climbed out of my car, seeing Gunner watching me with a raised brow as I struggled to get the giant Hummer out of my backseat.

  "You could help," I rumbled over at him when I dropped it for the second time.

  "I could," he agreed, nodding, not moving as I struggled to get the thing up the driveway toward where a wheelbarrow was propped up against a shed.

  "For some reason, I am pretty sure that whatever that is, it was not on my list," Jules said as we moved into the backyard, but she was smiling.

  "Not at all. But I figured this is better than a Golden Retriever."

  "As much as I want one, yeah, it's not a good time. I bet that thing screams and flashes and spits glitter."

  "Well, damn, I didn't know there was one that could spit glitter..."

  "Looking for someone?" Jules asked, making me realize my eyes had been scanning the space. I hadn't seen her car when I pulled up, but she could walk up at any minute.

  "The birthday girl," I lied since I knew exactly where Em was--over by the gift table arranging everything in the order in which she was going to open it. Her mother's daughter, through and through.

  "She's the calmest birthday girl in the world."

  "Once more of her friends get here, it will be a different story."

  "Don't jinx it. The calm is nice. Kai got a giant piñata. Calm would be preferable when we're blindfolding them and putting weapons in their hands..."

  "Oh, what's childhood without a few minor head injuries?" I shot back, watching as she shook her head at me.

  "Your inability to do paperwork suddenly makes so much more sense now..." she quipped before half-shrieking and running off toward the sound of Benji sobbing.

  "She shouldn't have gasped."

  "What?"

  "When he fell," Miller explained. "Jules shouldn't have gasped. He was looking at her for her reaction."

  If you just casually met Miller on the street, you would never guess tha
t the woman had an uncanny knack for babies. Especially given that she had none of her own, none in her immediate family. And that she wasn't exactly the mothering sort of friend either. In fact, she was often the bad influence.

  But babies loved her.

  And she had a way with them.

  "You gonna have a litter of them?" I asked, watching as she shot wide eyes at me.

  "Me? With babies? Lincoln, today I had to move coffee filters into the bathroom because I forgot to buy toilet paper. No one wants me to have children. Besides, you typically need a man for that."

  "You could have any man you want, Mills."

  "The problem is, I don't want them."

  "And the ones you do want tend to be on trial for murder or too busy running their black markets to have time for you..."

  "What can I say? I have a type," she said with a smile as she rammed her shoulder into mine. "What about you? Got any women on the horizon? Some girl getting evicted who needs a place to crash to save for first, last, and security?"

  "Nah. I've been thinking that maybe I need to stop and give each woman some thought before diving in."

  "What? Rational thinking? From you? Regarding relationships? Has anyone checked the news? Is hell freezing over as we speak?" she asked, brows furrowing. "What brought about the sudden change?"

  The answer to that was simple.

  Gemma brought about the change.

  Having her in my house was different than it was with my exes. Maybe because sex wasn't a factor, it gave us the time to explore other things. Life things. Wants and needs and dreams for the future. Instead of placeholder conversations to fill the gaps between sex sessions.

  Not that I didn't want the sex sessions.

  For fuck's sake, sometimes I would sit there while she was making dinner, and my mind would wander to moving in behind her, bending her forward, taking her from behind.

  But those thoughts, yeah, they couldn't exist. I'd been going for more runs to clear my head. Even with her cooking dinner most nights, I was fucking losing weight.

  Having her around was giving me some insight into what I wanted. Not just any woman in my home, in my bed. But the right one. One I could have conversations with, laugh with, get occasionally vulnerable with, someone who had staying power.

  "Had more time to think lately. And I think I want something lasting for a change. To get that, I need to maybe slow down, take the time, get to know someone better before I let them in my home."

  "That is very... mature of you," Miller said, no less surprised. "This right woman, what is she like?"

  "Warm," I said instantly, not having to give that any thought at all. "Open. Someone... softer. A good cook. Who maybe tries to sneak healthy shit into dinner because she gives a shit about my health..."

  "You know... that sounds an awful lot like Gemma."

  "Except I could never date Gemma," I shot back. A little too quickly maybe.

  "Really? Why not?"

  "She's too young."

  "She was too young. You know... five years ago. She's grown up now. You know, I think she may have even had..." she went on, lowering her voice to a comical whisper, "S-E-X before."

  "She's Jules' sister," I added.

  "You're weirdly defensive about this random hypothetical," she told me, never one for mincing words.

  "It's a ridiculous thing to assume could ever possibly happen."

  "Is it, though? God, she had such a massive crush on you back when she worked at the office."

  "She moon-eyed all of us at some point."

  "Yeah, but she moon-eyed you the most. And for the longest. It was cute, actually. I remember those days. Back before life reminded you that most guys aren't moon-eye-worthy."

  "That's a bit cynical."

  "Oh, come on. With the men we meet in this line of work, you don't agree?"

  "Some guy is going to knock you on your ass someday, Mills. I hope I can be there to see it."

  She completely ignored that, gaze slipping from mine. "Were your ears ringing?" she asked, making my gaze shoot forward too, seeing Gemma making her way past us.

  Safe.

  I don't know if I realized just how worried I was about her until I saw her there, felt the weight lift from my shoulders.

  She was fine.

  "Hey Miller. How have you been?"

  "Oh, you know me. Bringing strong men to heel. The usual. How are you? You look exhausted."

  "Oh, I, ah... I didn't sleep well last night," she admitted, head ducking a bit at the admission.

  Miller was right. There were smudges under her eyes, her lids were heavy. Wherever she'd ended up, she'd been as restless as I had.

  Guilt swirled, knowing I was the reason she hadn't been able to sleep, that she had likely been awake kicking herself for the kiss.

  Christ, that kiss.

  No.

  I couldn't let my mind go there.

  "I have to run back to my car to get my gifts," she added, looking for a speedy exit, a way to get away from me. "I seemed to leave my brain there too," she added with a wobbly smile that didn't reach her eyes at all. "We'll catch up in a minute," she added, rushing off.

  "Hm," Miller said to her retreating form. "That was weird. She didn't even lecture me about drinking an energy drink," she added, lifting it to drink as she moved to walk away.

  Once she was gone, I turned, rushing through the house to make my way out front, catching up to Gemma at her car parked to the side of the garage without anyone seeing me.

  "You scared the shit out of me, Gem," I hissed.

  A shriek escaped her, not having heard me coming, body jolting upward, making her head slam into the raised trunk of her car.

  "Ow, ow, ow, ow," she whimpered, clutching the back of her head.

  "Fuck, sorry," I said, reaching out.

  "Don't," she snapped. "Don't touch me," she added. Her voice might have been filled with venom, but there was nothing but hurt in her eyes. Hurt I had put there.

  "Let me check it, honey. Make sure you didn't do any damage," I added, reaching out once again only to have her shrink away.

  "I'm fine," she insisted even as she turned to swipe a tear away. She was going to have an egg there in an hour with how hard she'd hit it.

  "You shouldn't have run off last night," I told her, deciding to get to the point. We weren't going to have a lot of time before someone else walked past.

  "I'm an adult. I can come and go as I wish."

  "You know why that is not exactly the case right now, Gemma."

  "I know that I was getting by well enough on my own. And I will continue to do so."

  Christ.

  I'd never heard her sound quite so cold before. But her words were full-on icicles.

  "This doesn't have to be a big deal. If you had stuck around, we could have talked about that."

  "Oh, you mean after you told me to go to my room like a child?" She'd mumbled it under her breath, but there was no mistaking what she'd said.

  "Gemma..."

  "No. It's nothing. Forget it even happened."

  "So you're going to come back tonight?" I asked as she piled her gifts in her arms.

  "Yes," she said with a nod, allowing me to finally take a deep breath. "To get my things. Then I am heading back out."

  "Gem, come the fuck on. You can't go back to your place."

  "I can. And I'm going to."

  "You're blowing this out of proportion. It's not a big deal."

  "It's not a big deal to you," she corrected.

  "Honey, I get it. I maybe bruised your pride a little..."

  "No," she objected. "You hurt my feelings. I know that wasn't your intention. And you might even feel bad about it. But that doesn't change how I feel. And I can't be in your house right now. And you can't make me."

  "Gemma..." I tried as she slammed her trunk. "Come on, don't rush off. We need to talk..." I started, reaching for her arm, only to have her yank it away.

  "No. I don't need to talk about i
t. I need to go and wish my niece a happy birthday. This isn't the time or place for this."

  With that, she turned, and strode away.

  I stood there for a long moment, watching her walk off before the sound of a clearing throat made me sigh, closing my eyes.

  I turned, praying to fuck it wasn't Gunner. Or Bellamy. The two who were most likely to run their mouths about what they had seen, what they had assumed about it.

  Luckily, standing there a few paces off was Finn.

  "It's not what it looks like," I assured him as I moved closer.

  "No? Because it looks like you hurt Gemma's feelings."

  My air rushed out of me, his words being the most effective punch to the gut I'd ever taken.

  "You don't know the situation."

  "You're right. I don't," he agreed, nodding. "And I think I know you well enough to know you're not going to tell me. Seeing as you raced out here to talk to her in private. But I do know one thing."

  "What's that?"

  "I know that Gemma is maybe the rarest kind of person there is--one who isn't jaded and cynical about the world."

  "I know that," I agreed.

  "Actually, I know one other thing too," he added.

  "Yeah?"

  "I better not find out you've ruined that for her," he told me, moving past, stopping dead beside Gemma's car, his heart likely already starting to race at the mess of it.

  Finn, as a whole, minded his own business. He had his own shit to deal with, demons that kept him awake at night. He didn't have room for other peoples' crap.

  So if he was giving this thought, if he cared enough to offer threats, I knew him well enough to know that he would carry through on it. He'd find a way to make me pay.

  Finn was capable of darkness, the kind of darkness I didn't even know, couldn't begin to understand.

  I could imagine that there was no way I wanted to be on the receiving end of that, though.

  That said, Gemma was right. This wasn't the time or place. She would be coming over to my place later. We could have our words out then.

  "Why do you keep looking at Gemmy?" Kai asked an hour or so later, after all the kids had finally shown up, meaning that the wine and beer had come out for the adults so they would be able to handle the ear-piercing shrieks of joy without losing their minds.