by Ali Dean
Rolling my eyes, I decide to put Ryan in the hot seat. “So, who’s the girlfriend this summer, Ryan? I haven’t seen you with anyone lately.” It’s a little offensive of me, but we’ve joked before about his inability to stay single for long.
“Believe it or not, no girlfriend at the moment.”
“Not even a sort-of girlfriend?”
“Meaning?” he asks with a smugness that tells me he already knows the answer.
“Puh-lease, you haven’t had a real girlfriend since Lisa Delany. You just call them that to be nice.” From what I can tell, Ryan’s pretty good at having long-term hook-ups; he was “with” my former cross captain Kiki Graves for several months, but I don’t think either of them took it seriously. I’ve learned that very few people are in real relationships in college. Most people just hook up with the same person for a while until they have to choose between cutting it off or making it into something more committed. This is one of the many reasons I haven’t been with anyone since Jace broke up with me. Casual intimacy doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, and I’m not sure I could pull it off even if I wanted to.
Ryan’s pulled up outside my apartment on Shadow Lane but I linger, enjoying our banter.
He smiles, knowing I’m right. “Still looking for the right girl, I guess. Want to give it another shot?” he asks with a wink, letting me know he’s joking, but we both know the question isn’t a light one. Not really. And I bite, because why not? Since we’ve become better friends again over the past year, I’ve wanted to clear the air at some point.
“Ryan, would you seriously want to try going out with me again? As a girlfriend, I mean. The casual hook-up scene isn’t for me.”
He blinks, taken aback by my forwardness. But I don’t beat around the bush about feelings and commitments. After what Jace put me through, I prefer to cut through the bullshit and get to the point. Jace never gave me that and it sucked. Still does, if I’m honest.
“Why?” he asks, with suspicion or curiosity, I can’t tell.
“Dude, we get along great, always have. We’ve got tons to talk about and we went out before, so obviously there’s some attraction there. We’re both single at the moment, so I wanted to ask, see what you really think about it.”
He leans back in his seat and shuts off the engine. “What about you? Are you asking because you’re interested? Because if not, this is a weird conversation.”
“I don’t know why, it just seems like something we need to talk about. Like an elephant in the room kind of thing. But you go first.” It’s a challenge, and Ryan’s a competitive athlete, so I know he won’t back down.
“It’s probably no secret I held a torch for you for a long time. Even when I was with Lisa,” he admits, glancing at me with an indecipherable expression. “And yeah, I think I could be with you. Like, seriously with you,” he adds with a smirk. “Not just sort of. But I’m not crushing on you like I used to, you know? I admire you, and I think for a long time your rockstar running abilities had me a little infatuated.” It’s an interesting response, and one I find myself nodding to in understanding.
“Your turn,” he prompts.
“Yeah, I could see us together,” I admit. We both laugh. “This is so weird. It’s like we’re talking about two other people, not ourselves. But I am the one who asked, so,” with a shake of my head, I continue, “I guess it just seems like we’re better as friends. I’m sure we’d be a cool couple too, but the fact that we hang out all the time without the urge to jump each other says a lot. I think we’ll both find the right person, and we won’t be able to resist them.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to start a relationship with an ‘I could take it or leave it’ mentality,” Ryan jokes. Yet his words are right on point.
The truth is, I respect Ryan as a runner, as a good guy. I recognize he’s an attractive dude. But I’d get bored with him. We might be able to love each other, but it’d be so predictable and anti-climactic. There aren’t any fireworks. Because I’ve seen fireworks between two people. Experienced them. Felt the sizzle and crack deep in my bones. It’s awesome and terribly painful. Would I do it again? Or do I want something less earth-shattering, less heart-breaking?
Chapter Three
Jace
There was a time after we broke up that I wanted Pepper to see other guys. I wanted her to get over me and move on. I thought I wanted that. Until Annie left, the second time, I always wanted what I thought was best for Pepper. I wasn’t always right about it, that’s for sure, but my instincts have always been to protect her, make sure she’s happy and safe. Ever since we were little kids. A little less than two years ago, that changed. My self-preservation came first. I knew I was hurting her. But I couldn’t help it. It hurt too much to feel, and being with Pepper always makes me feel everything. The good, and the bad.
And when I eventually started to snap out of my self-imposed prison, a sick part of me hoped Pepper would see other guys just so she’d know that what we had doesn’t happen with just anyone. I’d had enough experience to know that what Pepper and I shared is rare. It was extraordinary, and not something she would find again. But Pepper wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t need experience with other guys to know that I was it for her. I think she always knew. The girl just got it.
At least, that was what I tried to tell myself on nights I knew she was out, getting hit on, maybe meeting her new boyfriend. Because really, I might have just been telling myself lies. Maybe she would find something even better with someone else. It was so fucking confusing. I wanted her to be happy. God, I wanted that more than I wanted my own happiness. I just hoped so bad she’d find it with me. And I had no fucking clue how to do that. We could barely even have a conversation anymore.
I was getting ready to turn in for the night, my body aching and tired from the run this morning, when I got a few text messages from people telling me about the Rockies team hanging out at the Tavern. Pepper waitressed there most Saturday nights, so of course, I had to drive over there. The parking lot was packed, and I didn’t want to go in and deal with the crowds or upset her. She would’ve known I was there for her, and that would’ve made her uneasy. I had accepted that she didn’t really need me, but I couldn’t help shadowing her like a stalker, just in case. It gave me a sense of purpose. Made me feel connected to her.
One time I probably overstepped a little, but I liked to think I helped her out. A guy on the hockey team walked her home a few months ago from a party, and I followed them. I knew it was messed up, but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I knew Pepper and her body language said she wasn’t into him. And he wanted at least a kiss, but probably an invitation to her room. She managed to leave with neither, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. The dude totally wasn’t going to back down, I’m sure had plans to keep after her the next time she was out, so I had a few words with him, without Pepper’s knowledge, of course. He didn’t bother her again.
Anyway, Pepper with Ryan was a different story altogether. I knew he gave her rides home from work, but it still sucked watching her get in his Jeep tonight. Pepper liked Ryan, and he wouldn’t hurt her, so I had no right to intervene. I just hoped she didn’t fall for the guy again. Or maybe I did. He was probably perfect for her. Shit. And now I was sitting on the front steps at my dad’s house on Shadow Lane, wondering what the hell she was still doing in his car and wondering if there was any logical reason I could fabricate for walking down the sidewalk in the middle of the night. It was taking a lot of self-restraint not to go over there and bang on the window. I had serious issues.
The front door opened, and I heard my dad behind me. “You okay, Jace?” he asked, his voice raspy with sleep.
“Yeah Dad, what are you doing up?”
“Got up to pee and heard you pull in, then saw you sitting out here, thought it was a little odd.” He joined me on the stairs, and we sat in silence for a minute.
There was no need to explain my compuls
ive tendency to follow Pepper around, pretending I was her bodyguard or some shit. My dad probably already knew it anyway. Hell, he knew I was in love with the girl years before I figured it out. But over the last year I had gotten better about talking stuff through with my dad. Even when it seemed pointless, it sometimes helped me figure out why I did the things I did. But sometimes I could just have the conversation in my head. And I knew why I shadowed her like a stalker. I wanted any reason to be close to her, and that was the best I could do.
Still, when she got out of the car a moment later and walked into her apartment building, my dad elbowed me. “You don’t have to watch her from a distance. Just talk to her.”
“You make it sound so easy, Dad,” I scoffed.
He shrugged. “It should be. You’ve been friends since you could talk.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to me. I was an asshole. I hurt her, Dad. Me being around doesn’t make her happy like it used to.”
My dad didn’t respond, and I took his silence as acceptance. He agreed with me.
“It’ll be a good thing when I leave next year,” I added quietly. Unless I fucked up monumentally this season, I’d be in the draft next spring, and on an NFL team this time next year. But the thought brought intense melancholy because it meant I wouldn’t be able to stalk Pepper Jones anymore. It was really messed-up shit.
“Jace, why don’t you apologize?”
I looked at him, astounded. “I told you I have, Dad. I’ve apologized to her practically every time I’ve talked to her. I don’t even know how to look at her now without wanting to say I’m so fucking sorry.” My voice was rising, and I hated that I was losing my cool.
My dad just narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I remember. And she said she forgave you, didn’t she?”
I didn’t answer that. She had said she did, but it felt empty. How could she possibly forgive me?
“Maybe it’s time you forgive yourself, Jace.”
“Oh come on, Dad. You sound like Dr. Phil.”
“Yeah, well, neither of you will be happy until you do.”
“And how will that make her happy?” I was practically growling.
He raised his eyebrows. “Once you forgive yourself for hurting her, maybe you’ll allow yourself to admit what you really want, and maybe you’ll actually get it.”
I stood up. I’d had enough of his bullshit. “You’re an expert in relationships now, Dad?” I asked, opening the door, ready to end this conversation.
“Not really,” he admitted. “But you and Pepper are special. It’s easy to see and it’s hard watching you apart.”
It was hard watching us? Try living it, knowing it was my fault. But I couldn’t be mad at my dad, and I reached a hand out to help him up. He missed her too, and I didn’t blame him.
Chapter Four
Pepper
“A real stud muffin stopped by looking for you,” Gran announces as soon as I open the apartment door, having returned from a run with Zoe Sunday morning.
“Lots of possibilities there, but if Bunny’s never met him, that narrows it down,” Zoe comments as she hands me a glass from the cupboard and begins filling hers with water. My best friend since our freshman year of high school, Zoe Burton is well-acquainted with the kitchen in my apartment.
“You didn’t know him, Gran?”
“Who says I didn’t know him?” she asks mischievously. “Oh, this is fun. Let’s see if you can guess!” She rubs her hands together excitedly. It’s really hard to take her seriously with the neon sweatband around her head. Not to mention…
“Bunny, are you wearing spandex?” Zoe asks with glee, poking her head over the kitchen counter to get a better look.
Gran shimmies her hips in answer. “Gotta keep this body looking tight for Wallace, ladies.”
I groan. I could have done without that statement. Wallace is Gran’s boyfriend. They’ve been dating for nearly two years now, and I’m starting to worry he’ll put a ring on her finger soon. As much as I like Wallace, I hate change, and him being my step-grandfather would mean a shift in family dynamic, big time.
“So, you gonna guess who the stud muffin was or what?” she eggs me on.
For a girl who’s been single nearly two years, and had a total of two boyfriends in her life, there’s a fairly long list of men who may have stopped by my front door. But none have a seriously romantic interest in me, I don’t think.
“Was it Wes?” Zoe asks uncertainly. My heart sinks. I cleared the air with Ryan Harding last night, maybe it’s time I do the same with Wesley Jamison. For Zoe’s sake. I swear the girl thinks Wes still has a thing for me, which is utterly ridiculous. He may have had a crush on me when we were kids, but it’s been a really long time. I’m pretty sure the reason the two of them can’t move to the next level in their non-relationship has nothing to do with me, and if she’s using me as an excuse, it’s time I call her out.
“Nope,” Gran says, popping the “p” in satisfaction.
Humoring her, I ask, “Ryan?” He doesn’t stop by much, but I could have left something in his car last night, or he might have to give me something from his dad, my coach. Who knows?
Gran shakes her head, the grin growing wider.
Zoe begins to list off every male friend or acquaintance she can think of in Brockton, and with each one, Gran continues shaking her head, practically vibrating with anticipation.
Sighing, I finally realize who it must have been, and why Gran is acting so ridiculous. Well, more ridiculous than usual.
“Was it Clayton Dennison?” I ask, resigned.
Gran jumps in the air, pumping her fist. “Yup! Officially, we’d never met. But of course I knew who he was.”
“I didn’t know he knew where I lived,” I grumble.
Zoe and Gran grin stupidly at me. Are they serious? “You really think it’s a good thing that a major league baseball player was looking for me? Why?”
“Um, the question is, why wouldn’t it be cool? You just told me about last night, Pepper. The guy is interested in you!” Zoe has been trying to get me to go out with guys all summer and every time she’s on break in Brockton and, well, I’m pretty sure she and my college roommate Lexi conspire about it over the phone even when Zoe’s at Mountain West, two hours away.
Gran raises her hand. “I’m not saying you should marry the guy, but I think a nice date would be good for you.”
My eyes widen. “Who said anything about marriage? And who even said anything about a date? Did he leave a message asking me on a date?” Before I can continue with my rant, Gran begins to answer.
“Well, no, not exactly, but I know men,” Gran says smugly, and I cringe. “And he’s going to ask. He left his number.”
“Gran, the questions were rhetorical.” It’s really hard to be annoyed with Gran and Zoe, who seem to think that dating any good-looking guy “would be good” for me, whatever that means. Zoe isn’t around Brockton much and doesn’t go to UC, so she can’t know that Clayton Dennison has a reputation as a player and that he actually told me once he used to take steroids. Gran wouldn’t know about that either, but professional athletes aren’t exactly boyfriend material. Heck, that’s probably why she wants me to go out with him. Besides, Jace Wilder’s track record wasn’t any better when I started seeing him, and that didn’t stop me.
Didn’t turn out well though, now did it?
“Pepper? You still with us?” Gran asks, bringing me back to the moment. “I was saying that I told him you’d call as soon as you got back from your run. Here’s his number.” She hands me a piece of paper with a phone number scribbled on it.
“Well, don’t go out with him tonight, Pepper. Grilling at Wes’s place, remember?” Zoe reminds me.
Good. I like having a valid excuse. And then he’ll be back on the road and I’ll be in the clear.
After Zoe heads home, I take a shower before punching in the number on the piece of paper. Clayton answers on the first ring.
“Hi, Pepper,” he says
.
“How’d you know it was me?” I wonder.
“Lucky guess,” he says. “How was your run?”
“Fine.”
“It was really nice seeing you last night,” he says smoothly. “It’s been too long.”
His words convey we’re old friends, but we’re not. Not really. We’ve had several encounters over the years – some meaningful ones, yes – but we’ve never intentionally hung out together. I’m not sure how to respond to his strange comment, so I don’t.
“Look, I know you thought I was joking when I asked if you wanted to go out with me, but I wasn’t,” he tells me. Here we go again. But this time, the teasing note usually in his voice is gone, and that means I have to give him a serious response. “Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
“I’ve already got plans tonight, Clayton,” I tell him.
“Can I take you out another time, then?” he asks, without hesitation.
“Why?” I can’t help it, I’m suspicious.
“Why do you think? Because I like you. I’m interested in you. I want to get to know you better,” he says.
He sounds earnest, and I don’t know what his ulterior motive might be, but I simply find it hard to believe he wants to go out with me, on a real date. He now lives nearly an hour away and is on the road most of the time. Even if he is interested in me, like genuinely interested, it doesn’t make much sense.
“Clayton, I just don’t think there’s any point in that.” For some reason, it’s easy being candid with him. He’s got enough confidence that I doubt I’ll hurt his feelings. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” I tell him. Because really, why pretend that’s not what’s going on here?
Clayton chuckles. “I don’t remember propositioning you, Pepper.”
Well, now that I’ve made it clear that won’t be happening, he can decide if he really wants to pursue me. “You didn’t, but I don’t want to waste our time. We’re busy people.”
