One Little Letter_A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance

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One Little Letter_A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance Page 14

by Robin Edwards


  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Chapter One

  I was in my last semester of college and it was an exciting time of the year because I was graduating in just three short months and the Annual Spring Festival was coming to Cottonwood Beach. I didn’t live there, but a girl could dream right?

  The Spring Festival was held on the football field of their local high school. It was a three-day event celebrating the happiest and brightest seasons of the year. Every year the football field was filled with festival attendees, food vendors, games, rides and a music stage where a local band played.

  This year I was going with my closest friends in college and although the festival had the same activities every year, I had fun anyway. Much to my surprise, they added a palm reading booth this year. At first, I was going to disregard it being the natural skeptic that I was, but my friends forcefully suggested that I try it with them. I was hesitant because I couldn’t possibly believe that my life was predetermined.

  The palm reading was only $10, a small price to pay for a good time, my friend, Lily said. I didn’t have to always be so serious about things and that I could just take it for what it was – a silly activity.

  I was the last person to see the palm reader, of course, and if the palm reader asked any questions where my answers gave her ideas as to a general reading she would eventually give me then I was going to decide right then and there that she was a fake. She didn’t ask me questions, however, not a single one.

  “Open your palm.” The palm reader instructed as she grabbed a small handful of red colored powder out of the pouch that hung from her belt and gently rubbed it over my right hand. I didn’t know what to think at that point, but I watched carefully as her eyebrows furrowed when she analyzed thed lines on my hand.

  “I see good things in your future.”

  Typical reading.

  “I see good things happening to you in most of the areas in your life this year. In career, friends, family – all of it. Except with love.”

  Typical.

  “I see that you have anger deep down inside of you. Looks like you have been angry for a very long time.” The palm reader gripped my hand firmer and smoothed the red power over one of the more visible lines.

  “Oh really?” I gulped with eyes open wide.

  “I see that there has been anger in you since childhood because you were treated differently by your parents and have always been unhappy with how there was more pressure on you to succeed than any of your siblings. You have a wall up, and unless you learn to get past that anger, you will not have the love that you deserve, because you will not be able to let love in and will not be able to love someone back.”

  This palm reader was completely bogus. Most fake palm readers and psychics say the same type of general statements that could apply to just about anyone. Most people are angry, have siblings and are resentful of their parents. I was no different. Just because I was all of those things at the time didn’t mean this palm reader was authentic.

  “Also, I wanted to let you know that he does care.” The palm reader said as she stared straight into my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. It freaked me out.

  I gulped again.

  “That’s it. That’s all I can see in your hand.” The palm reader smiled and patted my palm before she handed over a wet napkin to have the powder cleaned off.

  Confused, I stood up slowly and walked to my friends who stood off to the side, chatting away about their own readings and how eerie there readings were.

  “So how was it, Miss skeptic?” Lily asked.

  “It was alright,” I said cleaning the remnants of the red powder off my hand before tossing away the napkin in the nearby trash bin.

  “Just alright? What did she tell you?”

  “I don’t know, she said the typical things you’d expect to hear about – family, friends, career and education.” I shrugged.

  “Oh, that’s it?”

  “Well, she said something odd too.” I hesitated.

  “What?”

  “She said that he did care.”

  “He, who?”

  “I don’t know but the way she said it was as if he was someone that I already knew or will know. To be honest, I’m not sure what any of it means. It was just a stupid palm reading.” I explained.

  “I guess you will find out.” Lily chuckled.

  “Yeah, if she’s legit.” I laughed as I rolled my eyes.

  I never forgot about the palm reading over the years and somehow it always stuck with me. I met a lot of people in the years since the festival and if I had to be honest, the palm reader’s last statement struck a chord with me but never quite fit the description of anyone I had met along the way.

  A few years after college, I moved to Cottonwood Beach. It was a semi-active coastal city where residents only had to drive a few blocks and would find a business that sold everything that they could have possibly needed. Everything was within driving distance – a shopping center, gas station, freeway and the beach. It was practically crime free enough to feel safe, even at night.

  After living in Cottonwood Beach for some time, my life was on an upward trajectory. I had landed a job working for a consulting firm that provided advising as well as remediation to non-profit organizations. My position within the company was stable, well-paid and I loved it. I was content with how everything turned out for me despite my rough childhood and getting a late start in life.

  The one thing that still bothered me were the frequent bouts of loneliness that plagued me from time to time. I didn’t quite understand the feeling but there were times where I could be with a group of loved ones, family or friends it didn’t matter but I would still feel alone because everyone I knew had started settling down and started having children. I had none of those things going for myself.

  I dated a lot of men since college but no one significant had made any dents in the wall I had built to protect my heart. I did manage to develop a strong friendship with one of my exes and I ended up joining his band, Plus One. They were missing a lead vocalist.

  Their previous vocalist had married the love of her life and realized that she wanted nothing more in life than to be a wife and mother. She quit the band the very next day and my ex, John, had approached me about it shortly thereafter.

  My new bandmates and I all had secret aspirations as children to be in the music and entertainment industry. Although we liked the thrill of performing for an audience, as adults, we didn’t quite want to do it professionally anymore. We believed it would take away what we loved most about it – having fun together. Plus One played hundreds of gigs every year, and by the time I joined, our local reputation had grown exponentially. They were getting requests to play gigs at venues all over the state.

  One of our regular gigs was playing at the events put on by the Sutton Hill Country Club. The bi-monthly events were only open to members and their families. Sutton Hill was a prized neighboring town, approximately twelve miles southeast along the coast where most of the affluent in the country resided.

  Aside from playing gigs there, Plus One did not dare spend any more time there than necessary. As much as I loved the town, I did not belong there. I wasn’t wealthy and I wasn’t good enough to live there.

  The next best thing to living there was performing there with my friends and it was one of the highlights of my adult life and I was almost entirely happy. It wasn’t until I started playing gigs there, did I realize what I was missing in my life. I was never sure what it was, whether it was some grand adventure or epiphany I wasn’t quite ready to have. Yet, whenever I was in Sutton Hill, it always felt like I was on my way to discovering what it was that I was missing in my life.

  The more that I was in Sutton Hill, the sooner I knew I would find out what it was. The problem was, I knew I didn’t belong there but I needed to find a way to. It wasn’t until a couple of years later, did I finally take action in finding out.
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br />   Chapter Two

  I started coming to the beach in Sutton Hill regularly when I wanted to think and obtain peace of mind. It was getting colder as we were heading into winter months but I still went almost daily

  It was usually in the morning when there was a minimal amount of morning runners, I wanted to be by myself. There was something about the calmness of the breeze, the sky just after the sun rose, the sun between my toes and the sound of the waves crashing that brought serenity to me and helped me meditate. I would sit on the same concrete bench, several hundred feet behind Tower Nineteen

  Picking up the gym bag that sat next to me on the concrete bench, I let out a final sigh. My mixed martial arts class wasn’t until that evening but I spent most of the morning filling out job applications, I needed something to let out the anxiety I had felt. I headed to the martial arts gym (dojo) I frequented to do some self-instructed training.

  Picking up the gym bag that sat next to her on the concrete bench she let out a final sigh and stood up and walked to her car. Jamie’s mixed martial arts class wasn’t until that evening, but since she wanted to spend most of the day filling out job applications, she decided to head to the dojo (martial arts gym) she frequented to do some self-instructed training.

  I wanted to be a martial artist like all of the greats when I was younger but it wasn’t until I was older was I able to enlist in my first martial arts class. I had been hooked ever since. Whenever someone found out I was involved in some form of martial arts, they were always shocked. They always said that it was so unlike me to participate in such a violent sport, that I was too reserved and then stereotyped me as a bad ass.

  The opposite was true of course. It was the only sport that I was actually good at and it was more than just competitive fighting that everyone stereotyped it to be. Martial arts to her in some was like religion, she was taught virtues to embody, how one should treat others and how to develop confidence in herself. Sure, she was also taught out to defend herself, how to take a hit and also how to hit others but it was more about the spirituality of it all. At least to her. She had been trained in many different martial arts schools but her current dojo, Animus Training Center, was her favorite one. In the past few months she had been training there, she felt a strong sense of family and support instantly. The owner, “Professor” Felix was kind, easygoing and complimentary.

  He didn’t condemn you if you didn’t pass your belt tests, messed up on a technique or interrogate you if you took a break from training for a period of time. He embodied the word family, a word he constantly talked about at every training session.

  I arrived at the dojo a few minutes later and could see a couple of the students that I didn’t recognize training on the heavy bags. I assumed they were from the morning session and Professor Felix was wrapping up a private training session with another student in the back of the gym.

  “Wow, Wily’s here, everybody! In the morning, no less!” Professor called from the back of the room when I walked in.

  Wily was the Professor’s nickname for me because of how cunning and sly my strategies were whenever I sparred with a classmate in the dojo. I took off my shoes immediately and bowed to Felix and the dojo itself. It was widely known in the martial arts community when walking into a dojo you had to bow when entering and leaving. It was a sign of respect. Another common rule was shoes were not allowed on the mat; you had to be barefoot.

  “I’m here to train, Professor.” I laughed.

  “The next session isn’t for a couple of hours.”

  “I know, but I might not be able to attend tonight, so I figured I’d come here to train a little instead of not at all.”

  I guess I can’t complain.” Professor laughed. “Just stay out of the center mat, I am going to need that today for a training session I have in half an hour. We are going over some high guard techniques and counters today.”

  The high guard position, also known by other names, was a technique in martial arts and in Brazilian Ji Jitsu especially where an individual would trap at least one of their opponent’s shoulders with either their head, arm or all of the above using their legs locking them typically by the ankles. Once trapped in a high guard, there was an immediate danger for the opponent from any number of attacks and it was tough to get out of.

  “Sounds exciting!” I cooed. “I’m just going to work on some heavy bag and calisthenics if that’s alright.”

  “Be my guest.”

  It had been a while since I had an intense workout as I did that morning. The sessions that I had time to attend more recently were the jiu jitsu sessions which hardly required any effort on my part. It was the one area, I was one of the best at in the dojo but when it came to the trainings that were more traditional in cardio, I wasn’t as fortunate. I needed to work on my stamina.

  Training on the heavy bag in the back corner of the dojo, I was dripping with sweat. It felt good to let off some steam.

  “Hey Sam, long time no see, brother.” Professor Felix said in the front room.

  Sam? I had thought I knew almost everyone in the dojo, but I didn’t recognize the name at all. He must be new or from the morning sessions. Unable to hear the rest of their conversation which was now in a more hushed tone, I peeked around the corner to look into the front room. I leaned forward as much as I could muster without getting caught. That’s when I saw the two men.

  They were standing by the front door with their backs toward her. Sam had dark brown almost black semi curly hair that started to turn gray on the sides. He wore a black compression top that outlined his back muscles and matching shorts. Sam stood there laughing until he began to turn around.

  I ran into the back room as quickly and quietly as possible towards the heavy bag and continued working on my strikes and kicks. From what I saw in the brief second she looked at him before running back to the heavy bags, he was very attractive with striking features and piercing blue eyes. He had an excellent physique for what she guessed his age to be and it was obvious he kept in shape.

  I was curious to find out more about him besides his name that she now knew. As they walked over to the center mat, they were in direct line of sight of me and Sam glanced over once or twice in passing but unfortunately not enough for it to look like something akin to recognition Nonetheless, I kept to myself and continued my training but kept a partial focus on what they were doing.

  I really wanted to know more about him and if I didn’t find out, I would more than likely never see Sam again. I definitely could not interrupt their training, that would be disrespectful but I had to do something. I could leave the building at the same time as him and make small talk.

  “Hey Wily, could you come over here for a second. We could use your help.” Felix called from the other room.

  The Gods were in her favor.

  “Yes, Professor?” I asked as I walked to the center mat, anxious at the circumstances I was now in.

  “Wily, this is Sam and Sam, this is Wily. She is one of our most talented students here.” Professor Felix boasted placing a proud hand on her shoulder.

  Yesssss! An introduction.

  “I wouldn’t say all that, Professor.” I blushed as I shook Sam’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” he said as he smiled back.

  Looking at him closer, he looked older than she previously saw from afar. He looked to be late 30’s or early 40’s, about twelve years his junior. Damn it.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Felix stated before turning back to Sam. “In the past few months she’s been here, Wily’s already working towards her purple belt.”

  “Wow, purple already? Quite an accomplishment. Congrats!” Sam exclaimed.

  The purple belt in the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu system is the 3rd belt a practitioner would receive unless the individual school decided to implement other colors and/or strips into their ranking system. The average student testing for their purple belt has at least 2-3 years of training knowledge before they w
ere invited to test for a purple belt. I, on the other hand, knew enough to zoom past the white and blue belt in 1/3 of the time. Knowledge alone doesn’t guarantee anything but to be able to execute that in sparring sessions especially against higher ranked students was what enabled me to move past the rankings quicker than normally permitted.

  “Thank you.” I smiled.

  “Sam here is getting ready to test for his purple belt as well.”

  “That’s great!” I congratulated Sam.

  “Yeah it is. Took me a few years, but I’m here at least.”

  “That’s because you are incredibly busy, Sam. You don’t always have time to prepare but under different circumstances, you’d be probably training for your brown belt by now,” Professor Felix explained. “Speaking of which, if it’s alright with you Sam, I wanted you to practice some ground work with Wily here since you both are on the same level and I didn’t want to risk injuring myself since I have a match in a couple of weeks.”

  “I have no problem with it, how about you? Any reservations about going against an old man?” Sam asked Jamie.

  Say what? I had always taken martial arts and my training seriously but the second Professor Felix asked me to practically wrestle with an attractive man, I got nervous and maybe a little too excited.

  “Um, okay but I wouldn’t call you old exactly. Go easy on me.” I joked nervously. It made Sam smile.

  “Okay, Wily. You can take him.” Professor Felix patted me on the back as Sam laughed.

  “Hey, no fair!” Sam teased.

  After Professor Felix had both Sam and I warm up and perform a few precautionary stretches, we began sparring. Sam was not a small guy by any means and probably outweighed me by at least fifty pounds and even if he had used more of his strength, I believed I still stood a chance. Sam seemed like he didn’t want to dominate the situation with brute strength and used technique instead. Thankfully, she caught on to his strategy early.

  Like Sam, I was in great shape. My strong, curvy legs were long and sleek. I had an almost perfectly flat stomach that showed a hint of muscle underneath it. I also had power and strength and I knew how to use it which made me a cunning opponent. It also had been too long since a man touched me and this jiu jitsu session had started to become like foreplay. I was enjoying it much more than I should have been.

 

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