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Flawed: A Love Letters Novel

Page 3

by Kristen Blakely


  “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  Jake shook his head. “It sneaked up on me, that’s all.”

  “You’ll be at the party, right?”

  “It’ll be hard for me not to be, seeing how I live here.” Jake nodded to Pete and turned away. He had to leave before he went deaf. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom on the third floor, grateful that the noise dropped to an acceptable volume by the time he shut the door.

  Only then did he hear his cell phone ringing. He inhaled sharply when he saw the caller ID. His sudden pulsing headache probably wasn’t coincidental, but he accepted the call anyway. “Hi, Trina.”

  “Don’t freaking hi me. I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  “Sorry, I was at the beach, and my phone was on vibrate.”

  “Damn it, don’t you check messages between your games?”

  “No.” And for precisely this reason.

  “Mom left the house again.” His sister’s voice cracked. “She was missing for nearly six hours. I had to put out a silver alert, and the police finally found her and brought her home. I was going mad with panic while you were playing volleyball and ignoring me.”

  His headache became a migraine. He sank down on the bed and gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

  “I can’t keep doing this. She needs more care than I can provide, and you don’t give a damn—”

  “You know I do.”

  “You’re never here. You can’t leave all the work to me and say you care.”

  “I’ve sent you money.”

  “Oh, yeah, the oodles of money you send back.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice. “In-home assistance is expensive here in San Francisco. Your money brings a nurse in for two hours every day to help Mom bathe and eat. That’s it. Two measly hours a day for me to do everything else I need to do, including cook, clean, and play with my kids so that they think I still love them.”

  “Trina—”

  “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “It wasn’t fair. I just needed to vent.”

  “Vent away. It’s what I’m here for.”

  Quiet sobs filled the silent space between them. Jake’s hands curled into fists. He preferred it when his sister was angry. He could handle anger. What he couldn’t handle was a woman’s helplessness, and his inability to do anything to fix it.

  “She needs a nursing home, Jake,” his sister said after the sobs settled into a desperate calm.

  “No. She wouldn’t want—”

  “Stop being a selfish bastard. You won’t care for her—”

  “I’m playing volleyball.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” Trina mimicked the words sarcastically. “I’m playing volleyball. Beach volleyball.”

  “Damn it, Trina.”

  “Are you going to stop playing, settle down, and get a real job? Make real money?”

  “You know I can’t. I’m two years away from the Olympics. This is everything I’ve been working for.”

  “Right. So, like I was saying, you won’t care for her, and I can’t keep doing this alone.”

  “Mom wouldn’t want to be in a nursing home.”

  “Mom has Alzheimer’s, and most days, she doesn’t recognize me or her grandchildren. She doesn’t even know she has a son. It doesn’t make sense to keep pretending that she remembers or cares. The nursing home is the best thing for her, for all of us. It’s the only thing. We can’t go on like this.”

  Jake sucked in a deep breath. “Have you looked into nursing homes?”

  “There are several to choose from; they’re all in the range of $100,000 per year.”

  “What?” His jaw dropped. “Trina, we can’t afford it. I’m getting by on $2,000 a month after I send money to you. It barely covers rent and food. There isn’t a hundred grand floating around somewhere.”

  Her voice quavered. “I know. Medicare will cover part of the cost, but we’re still on the hook for a ton of money. I don’t know what to do, but this can’t go on. I can’t go on.”

  After Jake hung up, he opened his computer notebook and ran the math. The only way to get the money his sister needed and pay for his living expenses was to double the technology projects he took on, which would double the hours he needed to work, which would reduce the number of hours he could spend training for the Olympics.

  Frustration clogged his throat. Colin would never go for that, and if he lost his partner, he would lose his shot at the Olympics.

  He needed sponsors to free up cash from his daily living expenses—not enough for all his mother’s needs, but it would buy more in-home support for his sister and delay the inevitable nursing home.

  Of course, the sponsors were supposed to allow him to eliminate his working hours so he could train full time for the Olympics. No chance of that now, he thought grimly. He had to train harder and longer without cutting his working hours.

  How was he supposed to make it happen?

  He showered, changed into a long-sleeved T-shirt and denim jeans, and then left the townhouse, gratefully shutting the door on the music reverberating through his eardrums. Force of habit took him back toward the beach. The walk was enjoyable without the heat of the day, and he stopped by his favorite burger joint and grabbed a table on the outside patio where he could breathe in the fresh air.

  His mind twisted over the income problem as he ate his burger and picked at his French fries. He played with every variable he could think of—the number of projects, the number of hours per project, the amount he charged per hour, the types of projects—but his income and his projected expenses refused to balance.

  He needed more time for volleyball, and more money for his mother. And he needed them both without sacrificing one for the other.

  He scowled into his glass of ice tea. Impossible choices.

  “Hey there,” a sultry voice broke into his thoughts. “Is the food here any good, or should we go somewhere else?”

  He glanced at the two young women seated at the next table with open menus in front of them. One had auburn hair; the other was blond. Both were attractive in a girl-next-door kind of way that automatically brought a smile to his lips.

  “The food’s great,” he said.

  “Okay. We thought there might be something wrong with the food. You just looked so stern sitting there.” The redhead made an expression, presumably to mirror what he had looked like, but he really hoped he hadn’t looked like the pouting duck she resembled. The ridiculous expression vanished, and she smiled. “I’m Carlie.”

  “Jake.” He shook the hand she extended.

  “My friend, Karen.”

  “Good to meet you.” He shook Karen’s hand, too, and leaned back in his seat. He took in their sundresses. “You’re from out of town?”

  “How did you know?”

  Jake nodded toward the street. “It’s seventy-five degrees. The locals start pulling out their fleece jackets at this point.”

  Carlie laughed, displaying a flash of white teeth. “We’re from New York. And you?”

  “Raised in San Francisco.”

  “Ah, a California boy. Do you surf?”

  “Actually, I play beach volleyball.”

  “For fun?”

  “Yeah, and for real.”

  Karen leaned forward. “You mean pro beach volleyball?” Her smile widened. “That’s awesome. I’ve never met a pro beach volleyball player before.”

  “Me neither,” Carlie said. She looked him over in a deliberate way. “Our loss, obviously. Is there some kind of tournament in town?”

  “Championships. They’re taking place on the beach across from the Ritz-Carlton.”

  “We’ll have to check it out.” Carlie’s smile was bold and inviting. “Will you be playing tomorrow?”

  He nodded.

  Carlie exchanged a glance with Karen. “Keep an eye out for us. We’ll cheer you on.”

  “Great.” Jake pulled out enough cash to cover the bill and the tip. “I’ll see you there.”

  Carlie reache
d across the space separating their tables and placed a hand on his wrist. “Karen and I are thinking of checking out the Fort Lauderdale nightlife after dinner. If you don’t have plans for tonight, you’re welcome to join us. We’d love to have you.”

  Karen smiled obligingly, her flush staining her cheeks.

  He stared at them. Young. Pretty. Open invitation, and a better-than-good chance he could get lucky with one, or both.

  What’s not to like?

  He drew a deep breath. “Thanks, but I have an early game tomorrow.” He nodded to the both of them and walked away, the faint flicker of regret muted by the realization that he wasn’t giving up anything he had particularly wanted anyway.

  He did, however, pause at the junction of the road. The right thing would have been to return home and tackle one of his open projects. The sooner he wrapped up the work, the sooner he would get paid. On the other hand, he didn’t think he was mentally ready to spend several hours cramped in his tiny room, testing his clients’ new computer programs for security flaws and bad code.

  Colin’s invitation called to him, but he wasn’t sure if Ariel’s presence was a plus or minus.

  Perhaps he should meet them for drinks; perhaps he would realize then that she wasn’t as compelling as she had appeared to be.

  Surely there had to be a logical explanation for his inexplicable physical attraction to her. I was tired, dehydrated, and had too much sun.

  That was it, wasn’t it?

  Chapter 4

  After the waitress cleared the dishes away, Ariel leaned back in her seat across from Colin. “Thank you for dinner. What a wonderful choice of a restaurant.”

  “The food’s all right, but the view’s spectacular,” Colin said, his eyes fixed on Ariel instead of the palm tree-lined horizon.

  She smiled. “I’ve never quite dined like this before.” Their chairs and tables were attached to the platform of an oversized swing supported by a sturdy metal frame. The result was a covered booth that rocked back and forth in a rhythm that matched the white-capped waves rolling onto the beach.

  “It’s one of my favorite restaurants here in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “You sound like you visit often.”

  “At least once a year for several weeks at a time. The tournaments take me to the best beaches in the country and the world. It’s hard to complain.”

  “It must be hard forming ties to any one city.”

  Colin winked. “Are you asking me if I have a girlfriend?”

  She winked back. Her smile broadened. “Perhaps.”

  “I’m not attached to anyone right now. As you say, it’s hard to have meaningful commitments when I travel as much as I do. Most people don’t have that kind of flexibility or tolerance.”

  “Aren’t jobs tricky too?”

  “Well, not for me.” Colin grinned broadly. “For the next couple of years, at least, I’ll be living off my parents’ bank accounts. Anyway, jobs are easier these days. Technology allows people to work remotely, like Jake.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a product tester for technology programs. Companies send him the babies their programmers have slaved over for years, and Jake tries to break them.”

  “He’s a hacker? It sounds interesting.”

  “Boring as heck. Long hours of poking and prodding with no guarantee of finding anything at all.”

  Ariel shrugged. “Life rarely comes with guarantees. Perhaps it might be better if it did. You’d know what to invest in and what to not waste time on. Better yet, if life came with a magic wand that you could wave to make wishes come true.”

  Colin leaned forward. “What would you wish for?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She waved the conversation topic away. Colin wouldn’t want to hear about her lousy past and dismal future. “I’m all about living in the present.”

  “And I’m right here, right now.” He covered her hands with his. They warmed her, but she didn’t feel a tingle, let alone the jolt she had felt when she and Jake had shaken hands. Surely she had to have imagined her physical reaction to Jake. Probably just static electricity. There had to be a logical reason, right?

  She raised her head. As if her thoughts had summoned him, she saw him standing across the street under the glow of a streetlight. He looked terribly alone, his hands shoved into the pockets of his denim jeans. He had obviously seen her and Colin, but apparently, had not quite decided whether to step forward or turn around.

  “That’s Jake, isn’t it?”

  Colin turned around in his seat. “I invited him over for drinks. I hope you don’t mind. He’s good company, most of the time.”

  “Not at all.” She waved Jake over.

  Even at that distance, she saw his shoulders rise and fall as he exhaled a sigh, but he walked over to their swinging booth. Before Colin could make space for Jake, she did, scooting to the side of her bench.

  He hesitated, not obviously, but enough that she noticed. He nodded his thanks before sliding into the seat beside her.

  Oh, bad move.

  His scent, mixed with the warmth of his body beside her, short-circuited her brain. A woman more coherent and in control of the situation might have described his scent as an intoxicating blend of sandalwood and musk, but the best Ariel could managed was a silent “Hot damn!”

  She wanted to lean into him and rub against him.

  No, no, no. Hands off, she told herself sternly. And don’t drool.

  But damn. It was difficult to even form a complete sentence this close to him. It was crazy. If her brain were a separate being, it would have kicked her in the rear end for behaving like a teenaged, mentally challenged groupie.

  She needed to talk herself out of jumping his bones.

  All right, reason number one— Ariel’s gaze flashed between Jake’s and Colin’s faces. Colin was handsome. Jake wasn’t even that cute, and the way his gaze repeatedly flicked to her and then away was annoying—as if he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  A sly thought flashed through her mind. Did he find her as inexplicably compelling as she found him?

  Ariel swallowed hard as she felt the wetness between her thighs.

  Never mind reason number one.

  Reason number two—

  The way his dark eyes held hers was creepy. The intensity and focus in his eyes sizzled electric currents down her spine. They were mesmerizing. She could stare into them and almost forget to breathe.

  Raw physical chemistry, so strong, it freaked her out.

  And unless she was misinterpreting Jake’s uneven breaths and the tension in his biceps as his hands gripped his denim jeans—

  She glanced down at the obvious bulge in his pants.

  He flicked her another sideway glance, and she could almost hear his silent, frustrated curse.

  Oh, wait, perhaps that sound came from her mind.

  The sexual sizzle between them was real, and it was mutual.

  Never mind reason number two.

  Reason number three—

  “You’ll be coming to watch the games tomorrow, won’t you?” Colin’s voice broke into her distracted thoughts.

  “Yes, of course.” She turned to Colin with a smile but could not shake off her hyperawareness of Jake seated next to her. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  “And the party after?”

  “Party?”

  Colin glanced at Jake and arched his eyebrows.

  Jake shot her a glance before staring back at his glass of beer. “There’s a party at my townhouse tomorrow evening. You’re welcome to come.”

  “You don’t sound like you want me there.” It was a little easier to be saucy when he wasn’t looking directly at her.

  “It’ll be loud and crowded.”

  “Other players and their friends,” Colin added.

  “I love parties; I’ll be there. I’m a pro at making sure people have a great time.” Bartending for the win.

  “So what do you do, exactly?” Colin asked.
/>   Keep it light. Nobody wanted to hear about her shattered dreams and her lousy job. She shrugged. “To be honest, not much of anything. Whatever strikes my fancy, I suppose.” Thank God, she could structure coherent thoughts and keep her voice even if she looked at Colin instead of Jake.

  Colin grinned at her. “Lucky you.”

  “Yeah, lucky me,” she echoed. The edges of her smile felt stiff. She was twenty-five with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and here she was, hanging out with two professional athletes in hot pursuit of Olympic glory.

  It made her feel tiny and shallow.

  The motion in her peripheral vision made her turn. Jake was staring at her with an indescribable expression in his beautiful dark eyes. She drew her breath in sharply. Unease jolted through her, and for the first time, it had nothing to do with unfulfilled sexual attraction.

  Was it empathy?

  But how could it be? How could a hotshot athlete like Jake Hunter possibly understand the hollow ache created by unfulfilled dreams?

  Jake left after one beer and little conversation. The atmosphere that pressed down so heavily on her lightened immediately. Ariel straightened and shook her hair back from her face. Thank God she could think clearly again.

  Her thoughts, however, lingered on Jake, on the intensity of his gaze, and on the raw physical chemistry that promised fireworks, in addition to a heck of a lot of complications.

  She wasn’t in the market for complications.

  Colin paid the bill and then reached across the table for her hand. He smiled, his blue eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Shall we?”

  She had no doubt as to what he wanted from her.

  But what did she want from him?

  Chapter 5

  The next morning dawned bright and cool, and a light breeze blew in from the ocean. Wispy clouds streaked across the sky, promising shade without rain. The beach across from the Ritz-Carlton was already crowded with players and gathering fans. Jake was riffling through his duffle bag when some instinct made him look up. His heart thumped, and he had to swallow hard past the sudden tightness in his throat. “She’s here,” he told Colin.

 

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