Well Played

by J. S. Scott

  I looked across the room at my collage of the three of us over the years. Never, ever had I imagined it would end. “It wasn’t all you. I screwed up, too.”

  “You slept with Graham?”

  He didn’t sound shocked so I didn’t deny it. “I thought it was our chance to finally be together. I was just as stupid as you were. I rushed him and it fell apart. We’re not friends now. I don’t know what we are.”

  Jack put his arm around my shoulders. “You’ve always had a thing for him.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry, Lauren. I know how much it sucks to love someone who doesn’t feel the same way.”

  I sighed.

  “Do you remember when he brought his prom date here so Dad could take photos of them? And you spilled your chocolate milk on her dress?”

  “By accident,” I defended even as the memory brought nostalgic warm feelings back.

  “Sure. That story might have worked with Dad and Graham, but I saw you flash your braces at her before you tripped. You wanted to bite her.”

  “I have never and would never bite anyone.” I remembered hating that the perfect body and features of his date that night had made me wonder if we were the same species. I wondered how I’d feel if I were faced with that scenario again. Being with Graham had taught me as much about myself as it had him. I no longer thought I was ugly. In my own way, I was beautiful. And brave. And resilient.

  Jack chuckled then sobered. “You’re human. Just like me. Just like Graham. Do you remember when you were thirteen and had a crush on some geek at school?”

  That felt like another lifetime, but I vaguely remembered it. “Yes, Steven Bins. He asked me out on a date then he stood me up.”

  Jack smiled. “Oh, he showed up, but Graham and I agreed you were too young to date. We were tossing a ball around the front yard. Graham and I asked him a few questions, just to make sure we were all on the same page as far as how he would behave with you, and he pissed himself when Graham described exactly what would happen if he touched you.”

  “Oh, my God, he didn’t.”

  “It was fucking hilarious.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? You let me believe I was stood up.” I shook my head. “No wonder Steve never looked me in the eye again. I thought he’d changed his mind about liking me.”

  “No, he pissed himself like a scared five-year-old and is probably still in therapy about it.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  Jack cocked his head to one side and measured an inch in the air. “Not even this much?”

  I shook my head.

  Jack shrugged. “I’m just saying that none of us are perfect. Maybe that’s why we all get along so well.”

  I smiled reluctantly and pinched the air. “I’m this much less fucked up than you are.”

  Jack shook his head and showed a smaller section of nothing. “This much if at all.”

  Just like that Jack and I were back. I took a moment to soak it in. My brother could be the bane of my life. Over the years he’d often been the reason I would go into my room and slam the door. Later, though, we always made up because there was a better side to him—this side. I knew he loved me, and I knew he loved Graham.

  Jack stood. “Dad’s cooking dinner. You coming down?”

  I looked over at the binder on my desk. I still had time before my job started, but thinking about the extensive probationary process was a welcome escape I wasn’t ready to put aside. “I don’t know.”

  Jack picked up one of my pillows and wacked me on the arm with it. “You’re not staying in your room. Come on.”

  I grabbed the pillow from him and threw it at him. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  He wacked me with the pillow again. “Get up.” When I rose to my feet, he said, “You’re going to be okay.”

  “I know.” I hugged the pillow to my chest. “It’ll take time, though.”

  “Everything that’s worth it does.”

  I tossed the pillow back on the bed. “Stop. Wait. Grab a calendar. Did you just say something that might be considered mature? I need to document this anomaly.”

  “Says the woman who still sleeps with a teddy bear.” He held up a stuffed animal from my bed and waved it in my face.

  “It’s better than your VHS porn collection.” I grabbed the bear from him and threw a pillow at him. He threw it back.

  Dad popped his head in the door of my bedroom. “Still trying to kill each other. Looks like things are back to normal. Who’s hungry?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Lauren

  The sound of my phone beeping woke me from a fitful sleep. I rolled over and checked the time. Eleven thirty. I picked up my phone.

  Graham: You awake?

  I sat straight up in bed, my heart racing as I texted him back.

  Lauren: Yes.

  My phone rang. “I have a surprise for you,” Graham said.

  I used to like surprises, but I wasn’t sure I could handle any more. “What is it?”

  He chuckled. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?”

  I laid back on my bed, holding the phone to my chest. He sounded different from the last time we had spoken. He didn’t sound defensive or unsure. His voice was a warm purr that made me want to say yes to whatever he had planned.

  When I’d left him I’d suggested that we should start as friends. Had he confused that with my initial offer of friends with benefits? I couldn’t go there. My feelings were still too raw to be able to fully trust him yet—never mind what I had once imagined sharing with him.

  I wanted to see him again more than I wanted to breathe, but trusting him with more than friendship hadn’t worked out. I didn’t want to go back to being friends. I didn’t want to be left again—with only questions and tears.

  No, no surprises.

  “Lauren? Are you still there?”

  I lifted the phone back to my ear. “Yes.”

  “I want to make things right with you.”

  I had no idea what that meant. As friends? As lovers? Oh, God, I wanted to ask him but I didn’t know which I wanted to hear. We needed to find our footing again and that would mean going slowly. But what if friendship was all he’d decided he wanted? Could I be there, pretending to be happy, as he dated someone else? I took a deep breath and decided that sometimes more information was required before leaping. “What does that mean?”

  “It means you need to pack for a four-day vacation somewhere warm. I’m picking you up tomorrow morning.”

  “No,” I said out of panic.

  “When does your think-tank start?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “Then come on a trip with me, Peanut. I borrowed a friend’s plane. I know I hurt you. Let me do this for you.” He sounded so sure of himself that I was filled with doubts. I wanted to believe it could be this easy. Who wouldn’t? Too much had happened, though.

  “Graham, we don’t have to go anywhere. If you want to see me I’m right here at my dad’s. We could go for a bike ride or a walk.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “What do you need from me, Peanut? How do I make this better?”

  Finally, the Graham I knew. “I need to trust you, Graham. I heard you yesterday. I understand why you did what you did, but it hurt. I thought we were unshakeable. I put everything out there for you and you walked away from it. I don’t know if you’re hoping we can go back—or forward—” My throat closed and tears sprung to my eyes.

  He cleared his throat. “What do you want?”

  In a thick voice I said, “I don’t know if it’s that easy. . .”

  “I thought no one and nothing could ever hurt me again, but knowing that I hurt you is killing me. I want you in my life, Peanut. You deserve a lot better than I gave you, and I understand that you need
time, but things will be different this time.”

  “I don’t know.” I wanted to believe him. I wanted to jump. But the difference between that moment and skydiving was that I had already experienced a nasty crash with Graham. My fears weren’t based on abstract statistics—the memory of waking up alone and slowly coming to the realization that he’d left me was still painfully clear.

  “I do. Don’t give up on me. Come with me tomorrow. We’ll take it as slow as you want.”

  “Separate rooms.”

  “Done.”

  “No sex.” I felt like an idiot for saying it, but I was attempting to maintain a degree of control.

  “Okay.” He agreed easily and I kicked myself for wishing he’d made it sound like more of a struggle.

  A hundred questions were still swirling through me. I wanted to be happy about going somewhere with him, but there were enough unknowns that my stomach was doing nervous flips.

  “Peanut?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t over-think this. There’s a point when I’m throwing a ball that I have to let it go and trust that it will land in the right place.”

  I could have countered with how correctly calculating trajectory would remove the need to hope, but he wasn’t looking for throwing tips. I gave him the best answer I could. “I’ll try.”

  “Can you be packed tomorrow around noon?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night, Peanut.”

  “Good night, Graham.”

  I laid awake for a long time after we hung up, staring at the ceiling, telling myself that he would be there the next day. I hated that I doubted him at all, but I told myself to value my feelings as much as I valued his.

  Science tried to explain and quantify human emotions, but I didn’t know an equation that could reflect the complexity and fragility of trust or predict the outcome when it came to relationships. On this matter, I needed to believe in things I couldn’t measure.

  Not a strength of mine.

  Noon the next day took an eternity to arrive, but when it finally did I came downstairs to find Graham talking to my father. It looked like a serious conversation, but not one that upset either of them. When Graham saw me he came over and took my luggage from my hand.

  We stood there looking at each other for several long minutes. At first I thought he was going to kiss me. His face came down close to mine and I froze. Part of me wanted to throw my arms around him and lose myself in that kiss, but another part thought turning tail and running was the safest course.

  I was no longer a woman who let my fears dominate, though, so I stayed.

  “Ready?” he asked, his breath warming my lips.

  I nodded.

  “Graham,” my father said in the tone he used to use to remind me about my curfew. “Take care of my baby.”

  I almost protested but the sincerity of his tone stopped me.

  “I will,” Graham said and shook my father’s hand.

  I hugged my father and promised him I’d call when we landed. He didn’t look worried which meant Graham had likely told him where we were going. There was something reassuring about my father still trusting Graham.

  Graham opened the passenger door of his car for me. I slid in and adjusted my seat belt. He was beside me a moment later, studying my expression. “You look nervous.”

  I held his gaze and said, “I am.”

  “I hate that I put that look in your eyes.”

  The torment in his pulled at my heart. “I hate that you went through everything you did alone. I wish I had known. I could have been there for you.”

  He took my hand in his, laid it on his thigh, then revved his car. “You were, Peanut. You and Jack were what kept me sane. Even without knowing the details, you always knew when I needed a hug.”

  We shot off into traffic.

  The tension in the car was thick and I felt that if I didn’t find a way to lesson it I would change the mood by vomiting. “Jack came by last night.”

  Graham’s thigh tensed beneath my hand. “And?”

  “We talked. He regrets what he did.”

  “He should.”

  “Like me, he probably said things to you in the heat of the moment that he didn’t mean. He cares about you.”

  Graham changed gears with more force than necessary. “Yeah, well, we might have different definitions of what that means.”

  I looked out the window then back at Graham’s profile. “Don’t give up on him yet, either. Talk to him. Not now if you’re not ready, but keep that option open. We all make mistakes.”

  Graham’s expression tightened. “Yes, we do.”

  It wasn’t the tone I thought my surprise trip would take and I worried that I was bringing it there. “Hey, when were you going to tell me that Steven Bins didn’t stand me up?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy you scared until he peed himself. Jack told me what the two of you did.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Graham smiled. “You were too young to date.”

  “Wasn’t that for me to decide?”

  “You were fourteen and innocent. We did you a favor.”

  I smiled. “Well, then I returned the favor when I spilled that drink on your prom date. I didn’t like her.”

  “Ah ha, I wondered if that was an accident.”

  We laughed together and it felt good. “Were there any other guys you scared off?”

  His grin was telling. “Maybe one or two.”

  “No wonder I was a virgin for so long.”

  His nostrils flared and his chest rose and fell, but he didn’t say anything. I glanced down and noticed his bulge growing beside my hand and cursed myself for bringing up sex. Even though I ached for him, I didn’t want to go there yet.

  I needed to change the subject fast. “Guess who I saw in the supermarket the other day? Do you remember Mr. Peckerman? My Latin teacher who you said had to be using an alias because no one would actually have that last name? I met his wife and kids. He introduced her as Mrs. Peckerman. . .and since they have kids I waited but oddly enough he didn’t introduce them the way I hoped.” I paused for emphasis, then joked, “As a peck of pickled peppers.”

  Graham laughed. “My mind is so much filthier than yours.”

  “Why?” I asked, then got it. “Oh, my God, he has three little peckers now.”

  We swapped funny stories for the rest of the ride to the airport. When we arrived we were met by a pilot who took our baggage and led us into the private plane.

  “Fancy,” I said, admiring the interior.

  “Private,” Graham said, wiggling his eyebrows outrageously. My eyes widened. “Not that we’ll need privacy. I just thought you might not want an audience when I kick your ass at cards.” He smiled and I relaxed.

  We took seats facing each other with a small table between us. I was a tangled combination of grateful and frustrated. My mind knew it was too soon. My body remembered and craved every inch of his. Distracted as I was, I had no doubt he’d win—regardless of the game he chose.

  Fearless—that’s how I wanted to live, but I didn’t know what that meant as far as Graham. I didn’t want to lose him again, but I didn’t want my fear of losing him to be the reason I gave us a second chance.

  Was it unrealistic to hope that Graham’s surprise took us where I wanted us to land? Could I let go and trust it to?

  CHAPTER 26

  Lauren

  Several hours later we landed at a small airport in Crystal River, Florida. Graham hadn’t yet told me where we were going, but the location was enough of a hint that I guessed. The area was known for manatees.

  As soon as we stepped out of the plane I hugged Graham. I couldn’t help myself. Continuing on with my list was his way of keeping a promise I’d convinced myself to let go of.<
br />
  He held me tight then kissed my forehead. “This is what you get for calling me a pussy. It’s a pride thing.”

  “Sure it is,” I said against his strong chest. Then, because we were about to go somewhere neither of us was ready for, I stepped back. “Let’s see what song you’re singing when your butt is in the water with them.”

  He smiled broadly. “I researched the perfect tour. I’ll be fine.”

  I walked with him to the car that was waiting for us and loved how easy it was once again becoming between us. This was how Aspen would have felt had it not started the way it had. “By research you mean you asked one guy and this was the place he knew.”

  Graham tried to look offended, then simply smiled back. “I resemble that comment.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  We slid into the back of the car together and he took my hand. It felt as natural as breathing. “They say this is the absolute best place to swim with them.”

  “They?”

  “Are you doubting my sources? My doorman says his aunt’s neighbor’s dentist did the tour and it was amazing.”

  The data collector in me shuddered but I refused to give in to it. “It sounds fantastic.”

  Graham sat back and squared his shoulders as if I’d offended him, but there was a playful light in his eyes. “I can give you the name of the tour company and you can research it. . .” He gave me soulful don’t-do-that-to-me eyes. “If you want to kill all the fun in this.”

  I threw my free hand up and conceded with a laugh. “If it’s good enough for your doorman’s aunt’s neighbor’s dentist, it’s good enough for me.” I turned to look out the window. It was my first trip to Florida. The lush foliage and palm trees reminded me of California, but we weren’t in a commercialized tourist area like Orlando. I was itching to check the population, demographics and history on my phone but I didn’t. Instead I took the average density of homes, estimated the number of people who might live in each according to size and wildly guessed two thousand, depending on how accurate my memory of the size of the town was from the time I’d seen a story about it on the news. Had they mentioned the population? Was I correct? Did it matter? I smiled as I realized it didn’t. I was so used to people expecting me to always be correct that I had begun to hold myself to that impossible standard.