Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3)

Home > Other > Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) > Page 10
Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 10

by Taeuffer, Pamela


  "I'll do more than that." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, removed a card, and wrote something on the back. "Here's the number to my agent. Call her and give her the code I 've written on the back. She'll get you tickets and let me know what game you're coming to so we can visit."

  The tears welled up on her eyes.

  "Thank you," she said weakly. "You're just as nice as he said you were. I'm sorry to have bothered you. I debated a while; I could see you were having a serious conversation, it's just . . . thank you."

  "I'm Nicky," I shook her hand. "Ryan has made me a big fan of the Veteran's Hospital. I volunteer there, too. You were no bother."

  When we left it was a little after four in the morning. As we walked to the players’ lot together, Ryan gently brought my right hand around his waist. His arm circled my shoulder.

  Oh, whenever he does this I feel so safe; so breathless.

  "Gentle woman," he sighed. "That's you. Your bark is fearless, but your bite . . . there is none. You're a sweet kiss waiting to happen, you know."

  "Thank you," I said, embarrassed he'd showered me with praise.

  "And thanks for reminding me about her. I was ready to—"

  "Dismiss her as another woman waiting for your attention?"

  "Yeah."

  “Ryan, you know I love when you do the hug thing.”

  “Hug thing?” He pulled me closer to his body.

  “When you put your arm around my shoulder and take my hand to put it around your waist,” I took a breath. “It’s like everything’s okay.”

  “It’s a way we can be close until . . .”

  “Until what?” I had to know everything.

  Ryan stopped walking.

  Faced me.

  Placed both of my arms around his waist.

  “Until you're confident that you’re safe and ready for another level of intimacy." His body seemed to get bigger. Until you trust me.” His hands caressed my back. Before I could think of a response, he took me into his embrace, making me feel the power and want in his body, and kissed me deeply. His hands squeezed and then released parts of my body as if reviving me.

  In many ways, that’s exactly what our conversation had done—it had brought me back to life and helped me understand having relationships in another way.

  Leisurely walking his fingers through my hair, his beautiful, masculine voice seemed as if it was singing. I knew it was only my ears that heard his deep-throated sounds, but they brought to mind those visions of intimacy he'd just mentioned.

  His mouth covered my lips and his kiss took me into another dream. I knew that being his love was all that I wanted. Our kisses released the hurt and rejoiced in being together.

  I wanted more.

  We'd found each other again.

  “I missed you.” He opened the car door for me.

  “Me, too, Ryan." I looked at the ground. "I have a confession."

  "What is it?" His hand caressed my shoulder.

  "Even though I keep suggesting you're better off with someone older, I don’t want you to go with anyone else, it’s—”

  “Just what?”

  “I’m trying to communicate more rationally and without so much emotion, but . . . you have to know someone older wouldn’t put you through the things I have.” I pushed myself to reveal more. “I might be up and down a while longer. I don’t know if I’ll ever settle with this. My feet want to take off before I open my mouth or even think about discussing a tough subject with you.”

  “All I ask is we keep talking. If we communicate regularly, we'll become more comfortable.” When he smiled, the twinkle in his eyes seemed to light up the area around us.

  We were silent on the drive home. He pulled to the curb and left the engine of his car running when we reached my house.

  “Good night, sweet Nicky. See you tonight.”

  “Tonight?"

  “Our double date with your sister and her boyfriend.”

  “Oh, God. You still want to?” I was only half-kidding.

  “You know I do.”

  “What about Chris and Frances? Weren’t they leaving for Seattle after the game? Where are they?”

  “They already took off,” he reminded. "Chris—"

  "That's right, he texted you. I'm sorry. I know I'm the reason you didn't see go to the airport with them. I left them with a terrible impression, embarrassing myself and you . . ."

  "No," he shook his head. "I explained I made a mistake. They understood and haven't judged you."

  “I’m sorry to have let you down," I added.

  “I let you down." He turned off the car. "You didn’t attack me in front of my brother. It took courage and maturity it took to do that." He took a deep breath. “You could have let me have it. Even in anger you stuck up for me."

  I put both of my hands on his heart.

  “I hope I can grow my own heart to match yours, Ryan.”

  All the anger and contempt I had felt toward him during the past few days spiraled up and faded away. The embers that had previously scattered into dead ashes swirled back into my heart as glowing certainty.

  Lifting my hands from his chest, running my fingers through his golden brown hair, I was overcome with the desire to taste his kisses once more. My hands caressed and coaxed his head to mine.

  We gave ourselves over to each other, our souls entwined once again, sharing a light that had temporarily left us. Our lips created the connection I longed for and I kissed him until I felt the urge become full in my belly.

  “Do you want to spend the night?” I pulled away, almost gasping within the heaviness of my breath. “We can lie together just like the first time you stayed over.”

  I dreaded having people come to my house spontaneously, fearing that my father would show up drunk. With Ryan, and oddly enough with Ethan, I didn’t worry about either of them being exposed to my family's dysfunction or that they'd judge me. Each man seemed on a different level of maturity and I was confident they could handle themselves. When I was with them, I felt courageous and bolder than I had since I’d been a little girl. I was ready to shout out to my family, “This is my life, too! I’m not hiding anymore!”

  “It’s almost morning anyway. We could sit on the sofa or lie on my bed and just talk. We can go get breakfast, I . . . I want to be with you, and I—”

  “I know, Nicky, but—”

  “Now that we’ve talked everything through, I don’t want to let go of this—or us,” I interrupted. “I was so devastated before.”

  “Why were you devastated?” he caressed my hair.

  “Because.”

  “You’re seeing other people. Why did it make you feel bad when you thought I’d given up on us? Why shouldn’t I see other women?” Ryan asked pointedly. “You see Jerry, you’ve made friends with Ethan—aren’t you holding me to a double standard?”

  “I guess it looks bad but I’m not seeing Ethan that way."

  “How long should I stay away from other women before you say, Ryan, you’re the one!" He rolled on, not acknowledging that I’d left out Jerry’s name. Even so, I was sure he'd caught it. “How long are you asking me to believe in you, Nicky? You torture me with your kisses and the way your body pushes up to me; tell me why I should trust you. Tell me. I need to hear you say it. Why should I wait for you?”

  His voice was calm, gentle, loving, and I knew he was urging me to dig deep and say aloud, without hesitation, I love you, Ryan. I only want to be with you. I choose you.

  “Because, well, I know I sound like a hypocrite, and um . . . I guess I am in a way, but . . . because . . . I’m not having sex with anyone and you’re . . . um, more than just a friend. I have strong feelings for you. Very strong.”

  I can’t say the words. I want to scream them, tell you that I love you, but I can’t.

  “That’s what you say,” Ryan’s eyes were steady. “I can hear that you're trying, but friends have strong feelings.” He breathed deeply and called my name severa
l times as his lips touched my ear.

  “Nicky,” he whispered.

  “Nicky.” The way he kissed my ear was as if a light breeze had brushed by me.

  “Why were you devastated?” His warm breath was soft on my face. “What are you trying to say?”

  “I care deeply about you.” The words almost caught in my throat.

  “That’s not enough,” he persisted. “Tell me your feelings. Rip your heart from your body and show it to me. Why, Nicky?”

  “Come up to my room, and we can kiss again." My body was screaming. I yearned for him. “When we were on my front porch, you asked me to call Jerry and cancel my evening. Stay with me now. Cancel everything for me.”

  “You don’t understand how tough it is for me to say no.” His hand continued to caress my hair. “We’re both in a place of recovery right now. If I step foot in your bedroom—I don’t want to take a chance that we’ll give in to each other because of where we’ve just been. We’re both weak. You may think you only want me to lie with you, but the look in your eyes says more. If you open to me that way, I won't be able to stop.”

  “I’m ready," I insisted. "Forget all that and come with me." I tugged on his arm. What are you saying, Nick? You’re ready to give in to him sexually? Are you thinking this through?

  “No. This isn’t the right time, especially under your parents’ roof. During the light of a new day, you’ll feel I took advantage of you. And you’d be right.”

  “No, I won’t, Ryan, I—”

  “This isn’t the right time,” he repeated. “I’d like nothing more than to make love to you. This isn't the morning.”

  Our foreheads touched.

  My mind was finally calming. It seemed as if Ryan’s did as well. We knew we had to break our embrace, but neither of us wanted to separate. As I lay my head against him, his heart beat steady, strong, and fast. It sounded like an echo moving through a tunnel from deep inside his body, then his chest, becoming shallow as it traveled up to his throat, escaping softly across his tongue in a warm wish.

  “You’d better go." He brushed my bangs aside. "If you don’t leave pretty soon, I will spend the night, and the way we’re giving into each other right now . . . I'm barely holding on.”

  “I don’t want to go inside. Let’s sleep in your car,” I giggled half-heartedly.

  “I have to be up in a few hours. We should say good night.” He turned his head and yawned. “Sorry.”

  “I’m a bad girlfriend, keeping her pitcher boyfriend up late.”

  “You’re the sweetest girlfriend this boy could ever hope for.”

  I scooted off the seat and was ready to close the door.

  “Nicky!”

  I leaned into the passenger side of the car.

  “I didn’t buy you the emerald necklace to bribe you for sex; it's to honor our friendship and yours to keep.”

  “Roll your window down.” I shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Keep your hands on the wheel and don’t take them off." I leaned in and kissed him on the lips. “Good night. I care a lot for you, Ryan. I know I’ve said it a million times and you’re tired of hearing it, but I’m so afraid of new relationships. Especially with boys—well, men.”

  “What you didn’t understand before tonight is that I’m afraid, too. Being without you the past few days . . . my arms were lonely and my hands empty. I longed for the sound of your voice. My eyes search for your sweet face wherever I go. Baby, I need to see or talk to you every day; I can't go without some part of you."

  “I want that, too.” I pressed his hands to the wheel as he started to reach for me. "No, no," I teased. "We'll never be done with goodbye if we keep this up. Good night.” We kissed again. Forcing myself to turn from him, I walked toward my house.

  When I closed the front door, I heard him pull away.

  I walked silently upstairs and dropped my cheer uniform on my bedroom floor. When I climbed into bed I thought about Ryan and how he’d made sure I felt safe. The time he’d taken to talk things through . . . he was courageous to take the chance. I was angry and still, he took a risk.

  I knew it was time to take the same risks he had.

  As the night faded, I felt the internal chains in my body release.

  It was as if I had been holding onto a cliff all my life, digging in with fingertips, afraid I’d fall, as the pebbles, rocks and boulders dropped around me into the abyss below.

  Suddenly, I felt I could easily lift myself up, stand on its edge, and look down on all the debris. My thoughts and views were beginning to change. All the trials, bruises, and errors happened so the deep crevice could fill up and allow me to step down. I hadn't understood until that night, those boulders had to fall. By taking a risk, each pebble that plummeted filled up the darkness.

  My fears of abandonment, of being vulnerable and intimate, made me believe that something bad was going to happen. I had been unable to trust any one person, situation, or relationship—especially the one with myself.

  The lessons of life pounded down and began to refine me, change my course and direction and force me to look inside myself more deeply.

  At last I was opening a new world.

  Chapter 14

  Getting Ready

  When I woke up that Saturday morning, I knew I wouldn’t cheer at the ballpark. It was the first day I'd missed since we began. The last three nights had been emotionally draining and I needed to rest. I felt exhausted in every way.

  My cell phone range shortly after I texted Colleen to let her know of my decision. My heart jumped. I'd hoped it was one of my friends checking in to make sure I was okay.

  Instead, I saw Jerry’s name.

  Oh no. I don’t want to talk to you yet. I need to have a tough discussion with you and haven't gotten a chance to put my thoughts together. Whelp, no sense in avoiding what will only get tougher with the passage of time.

  “Hey, Nick.”

  “Hi.” Can he hear my voice trembling? “How are you?”

  Poor Jerry. What do I say? Do I begin with, “I’ve fallen for someone else, but I hope we can still be friends?”

  “I’m great! Just wanted to confirm our date on Monday, gorgeous baby,” he teased.

  “Um . . .”

  What do I do? I can’t go on a date with him. Do I tell him now? Or do I let him think everything is okay and wait until he gets home to reveal my feelings?

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t decide on the right thing to do. I only knew that telling him over the phone wasn't okay. “Still hitting well?”

  “Def.” He was bursting with enthusiasm. “I worry about going into a slump at the wrong time, though. I'm so superstitious that I make sure to do all the same routines so I don't jinx it!”

  “No way,” I tried to sound reassuring. “You’ve worked too hard for too many years. If you do slump, you’ll make an adjustment. You’re an awesome baseball player.”

  “Thanks for that. By the way, what's going on with your Facebook?"

  “It’s . . . I really don’t know what to do with it, Jerry.”

  “Ethan Mathers? He's one of the Avengers' top prospects. I've followed him when he was drafted to semi-pro. When did you meet? When you were cheering, I guess?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you when you get back.”

  "I feel like you're slipping away sometimes." His voice saddened.

  Crap. What do I say now?

  "No, I'm not. Cheering for the Goliaths allows for opportunities to meet a lot of people, that's all. You and I will be friends forever, don’t' get down."

  “I hope that's all it is. So . . . I’ve been doing a lot of online work, if you know what I mean."

  "Yeah."

  "Have you been doing your research?”

  On our last date, just before Jerry left for a week of summer baseball, we'd had a long discussion about all things sex: having it, protection, what form of birth control to use, and researching the way we could pleasure each other, which mig
ht make our first sexual experience together more enjoyable.

  He took no time in reminding me where we’d left off.

  “Let me know when you’re home." I ignored his direct statement. "We’ll get together after you’ve had a chance to relax."

  Then I can tell you about my feelings for Ryan.

  “I’ll relax with you,” his voice was low, as if muffled.

  “Okay,” I swallowed hard. “Bye, Jerry.”

  “Wait!”

  “Sorry, what is it?” I almost hung up the phone.

  “I want to talk for a while.”

  As he continued, I was thankful that he focused on his life and didn’t ask many questions about mine. After another hour, we said goodbye. Terrified that when I revealed my feelings, he would become angry, I was even more afraid he’d never forgive me.

  I wasn’t ready to lose his friendship.

  He was one of the last links to my grade school days.

  He knew things that even my sister didn’t.

  Jerry would show up to school with bruises on his arms. No one knew but me what had really happened. I was there for him when his dad got too physical and he was there when my household fell into an alcoholic's rage.

  We ran away with each other and hid in the backyards of our friends' houses.

  We'd bicycle to the beach or just around the block—sometimes ten circles or more—whatever it took to wait for peace to settle again.

  Would it be automatic that we wouldn’t see each other if I said no to having sex with him? Could men and women be friends, even if they were once attracted to each other?

  When my cell phone beeped with a text around noon, I was certain this time it would be Colleen.

  A feeling came over me as if warm honey drizzled down my entire body when I saw Ryan’s name.

  He texted: Where r u

  I responded: Home, c u 2nite

  He texted back: Can’t w8. I have “!!!” 4 u

  I texted: ? ‘!!!’

  He returned: Surprise

  I sent: Can’t w8

  When I checked in with Jenise, I found her primping for our evening with the boys. She let me listen in as she practiced the important introduction of her African-American boyfriend, Sean, to our parents. We talked for more than an hour about how they were going to do it. I admitted to her that I was glad I wasn't in her shoes and admired their courage.

 

‹ Prev