Us Again

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Us Again Page 11

by Jennah Thornhill


  Being the red-blooded male that I am, I can’t help but notice the curve to her hips and the way they sway when she walks in front of me. The skirt she’s wearing clings to her like a second skin. I know I shouldn’t be looking at her this way, but I can’t help myself. Dean was right, she’s gotten even more gorgeous, if that’s even possible. Getting into her beat up crappy Ford car, I place my crutches between my legs, as I watch her fasten her seat belt and get comfy in her seat.

  “What?” She asks me when she catches me looking at her.

  “Nothing.” I hold my hands up in a defensive motion. “I guess I just thought this wouldn’t have been your type of car that’s all.”

  Starting the engine, she gives me a sideways glance.

  “Yeah well, when I bought it, it was all I could afford at the time and I’ve kinda grown attached to her. So, I suggest if you don’t want to lose your balls, then you don’t say anything else about it.”

  Well this is refreshing; I’ve never seen this side of Eliza before. If my memory serves me right, she was quiet back then. She wouldn’t even argue with me or curse me out, when I deserved it. She just shrugged it off and carried on as if nothing had happened. I have to say I’m liking this feisty version of her; it seems we’ve both changed a lot of the years. Only hers is for the better and well I’m just a mess now. Apart from my career, I don’t really give a shit about anyone or anything, where as I used to. Now I won’t let myself be walked all over again. I keep myself guarded and the little bit of trust I do have, I reserve for the people who deserve it and she most definitely doesn’t.

  Leaning my elbow on the door frame, I place my hand on my head.

  “Are you gonna tell me where you’re taking me? Or am I going have to call Dean and tell him to send out search and rescue, if I’m not back my sun down.”

  Removing my sunglasses, I clip them on to the collar of my t-shirt and watch as we drive around the streets of L.A.

  “Ha, ha you’re funny aren’t you, do really think I would risk my career by killing LA’s most famous baseball player? If you do, then you really don’t know me…” She trails off when she realizes what she’s said. She’s right I don’t know her, not anymore. All these years I’ve wondered if I ever really did. She drives for another five minutes before pulling up outside a small coffee house and running inside. When I see her leave the small shop, she’s laden down with two take away cups and two small brown paper bags are wedged under her arm. I lean across to her side of the car and open the door for her. Handing me both of the cups, she gets back in, before placing the paper bags in my lap.

  “I took a wild guess and got you a black coffee with an extra shot and a cream cheese bagel. I mean that’s how I remembered that you liked it. I can go change it if you want me too?”

  She tries to take one of the cups from me, but I just keep it in my hand and don’t give it to her.

  “Black coffee is great, thank you.” I tell her.

  On the outside I may look calm and collected, but on the inside I’m shocked that she even remembered.

  “Right, okay then. Let’s get going, shall we? Just let me send a quick text to someone.”

  Pulling out her phone from the console between us, she quickly types out a text and then continues on with our journey.

  The silence in the car grows awkward between us the longer we drive. As if she can read my mind she flicks on the radio and No Doubts, Don’t Speak starts to croon through the car. It’s the perfect song considering neither one of has said a word since we left the coffee shop.

  Ten minutes later, we’re driving through the gates of Coldwater Canyon Park.

  “See… I’m not kidnapping you; I’m just bringing you to my tranquility place.” She informs me as she finds a space to park. “Are you going to be okay to walk or hobble over to the creek? There’s a bench right by it that I sit on when I come here.”

  Unclipping my seatbelt after I’ve handed the coffees over to her, I tell her I’ll be fine, as we both get out of the car. Putting the bags that contain the bagels into her purse, El carries the coffees and leads the way over to the bench by the creek she mentioned. In all the while I’ve lived in L.A., I’ve never actually been to this park; I’ve drove past it countless of times, but I’ve not once been inside it. I can see why she calls it her tranquility place. The place is filled with summer flowers that are bright and fill the air with a pungent smell. Over in the distance on either side of the park, I can see two play areas for kids to play on when they aren’t at school, What does impress me is the miles and miles of well-kept grass and the peace that surrounds the entire area. The only noise I can hear is the water that’s running through the creek.

  We make it to the bench and we both sit on opposite sides of it. El proceeds to hand me back my coffee and places my bagel in front of me.

  “This place is amazing, I come here all the time when I just want to get away from the real world for a while. I’ve sat on this exact bench on more than one occasion, watching the world go by.”

  Putting her coffee cup to her lips, she takes a sip of her it and stares off into the distance.

  “Anyway enough of that, we have a session to get to and for this to work I need you to talk to me. Otherwise I can’t clear you to play and I’m almost certain that is the last thing you want.”

  The last part of what she says I barely hear, I’m too busy looking at her and how passionate she is about this place. She isn’t the Eliza I met in college. Something or someone has changed her. For as much as I should say to hell with this counselling shit, I find myself staying rooted to the wooden bench. If I have to fake it to get back on the field, then I will if it means that I can get to know her again. It’s not every day your first love walks back into your life and wants to fix you. Not that I will admit any of that to her or anybody else.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Eliza

  Two Weeks Later.

  Since the day I took Nate to the park for his first therapy session, we’ve conducted all our other appointments there as well. I want to say we’ve been getting somewhere, but I would be lying. When I ask him about the crash, he just shuts down and stares of into the distance as if he hasn’t heard me. I know there’s something that he’s warring with on the inside, but I have to tread carefully. I’m scared that it could go either way with him. I could open a dam and he could crack and everything will come pouring out at once. Or he could turn around and say fuck it, it’s none of my business and walk away.

  He’s talked about his team, the guys and how much he respects them all. How he can’t wait to get back to playing ball, but I still can’t clear him to play. If I did and he broke down or crashed and burned before or during a game. Then I’m afraid the blame would lie with me and my career would be over in a flash.

  Today we were supposed to have an appointment, but he’s had to go to the hospital to see his physician about his leg. From what he has said to me, I can tell he’s hoping to have the cast off today. When I talked to him about his broken leg last time, he came to see me all I got was…

  “Well I’m alive, aren’t I? It’s more than what can be said for some people.”

  That right there told me that he’s living with survivor's guilt, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. The guilts tearing him up from the inside out and unless he starts to talk about it, then he’s never going to be able to get passed it.

  Rotating my pen between my fingers, I’m sitting at my desk when my phone rings. Looking down at the screen, Sammi’s name is flashing across it. I debate on whether I should answer or not, because I’m just not in the mood for happiness today. I know if I don’t, then she will ring Tracy’s desk and make her put me on the phone. Deciding the lesser of two evils, I slide the green button across the screen and answer her.

  “Hello my delightful friend, what do I owe the pleasure on this bright and beautiful Friday afternoon?”

  I try to sound cheerful, but it’s
forced and I know she will be able to tell straight away.

  “Well aren’t we a bundle of fucking fun today? What’s up? Did Doctor Freud finally decide that there is no helping people, who don’t want to be helped and you’ve only just been told.”

  Sometimes I wonder why ever became friends with this woman, but then I remember everything she’s done for me and my second thoughts dwindle away.

  “Ha-ha, dumb ass. Freud died in nineteen, thirty-nine, for your information. What do you want anyway? I’m busy.”

  I tell the little white lie, hoping to get her off the phone so I can go back to my pen twiddling and thinking about Nate.

  “First off, you’re lying to me. I know you aren’t busy; I spoke to Tracy before I called you. Secondly, I also know you have no more patients for the rest of the day. So my point is I’ve just had that dress come into the store that you fell in love with and guess what?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “It’s just your size.”

  “Mmm, how convenient is that?” I say sarcastically.

  “Listen, just get your butt down here and come look at it, it’s gorgeous El. You’re gonna love it, I promise.”

  Realizing I have nothing better to do, I give in to her demands.

  “Okay, I’ll be there in twenty.”

  “Eeeekkkk, okay… okay. This is so exciting; I can’t wait to see it on you.” I hear her squeal some more, before we both hang up.

  Packing up my desk for the weekend, I grab my purse from the floor and head out the door. Leaving a smirking Tracy waving at me, as I head for the elevator.

  “Have fun now, won’t you?” I hear her call out. She’s worth her weight in gold that woman, but sometimes I wish her and Sammi wouldn’t gang up on me, the traitor.

  Arriving at Sammi’s store, I leave the comfort of my car and drag my ass inside. The quicker I let her play dress up with me, the quicker I can go home.

  “Yay. You’re here.”

  She’s practically bouncing up and down when I walk through the door.

  “Right, I’ve left you the dress in a changing room in the back. Go put it on, then come out so I can see it. While you do that, I’m going to pour us both a glass of wine.”

  I look to Kate; her store assistant and she just gives me an encouraging smile. Something’s going on and Sammi isn’t telling me, but she forgets I can spot her meddling a mile off.

  “What are you up too? You never drink while you’re working.”

  Feigning innocence, she places a hand over her chest and says, “Me? Nothing. I’m just excited about the dress that’s all, now go put it on.”

  She thinks she can fool me, but I know she’s up to something. Giving in to her demands, I go into the back, where the changing rooms are. I close the curtain across, when I find the one that has the dress in it. Looking at it on the hanger as it hangs up on the hook, I have to admit it is a gorgeous dress. It’s purple silk with a high neckline that’s covered in crystals, but they don’t stop there. What I loved the most about this dress is the back. When Sammi first showed me the drawing she had of it, I fell in love. I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t a tad bit excited to be putting it on.

  Stripping out of my work clothes, I slip the dress on over my head. When I turn to look in the mirror and see the back, I can’t breathe, it’s that gorgeous. It’s completely backless, except for a strip of material that runs from one side to the other at the middle of my back. It’s covered in crystals that sparkle in the light. It falls to just above my knees and the material is so soft against my skin.

  “Excuse me, I’m waiting out here.” I hear Sammi holla from the other side of the curtain. Pulling my shoulders back and standing tall. Well I say tall, but when you’re vertically challenged like I am, then there’s only so much height I can work with.

  “I’m coming now, keep your panties on.”

  I whip the dressing room curtain back and step out. I’m met with two very loud gasps and clapping hands.

  “Well fuck me backwards and into next week. It’s better than I thought and on you it looks beyond fabulous.”

  Sammi is standing by a rail of other dresses and look like she about to cry.

  “Here put these on with it.”

  She thrusts a pair six-inch silver stiletto shoes at me, urging me to put them on. Taking them from her, I slip my feet into them. When I turn to look in the huge mirror, she has hanging on the wall, I have to admit I do look good; the shoes add extra height to my short legs. For once they actually look good.

  “God, I’m so good at my job, even if I do say so myself. I never thought for one minute that it would look this good.”

  She comes over to me and walks around me in a circle, inspecting every inch of the outfit I’m wearing. Stopping in front of me, she takes me by the shoulders and looks me square in the eyes.

  “So this is what’s going to happen… you’re gonna go home, get in the shower. I will meet you back at our place when I’ve locked this place up. Then we’re going to get ready and we’re gonna tear up some cocktail bars, because frankly this dress is too damn sexy to be kept indoors. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Sam….” I try to protest, but she just halts me straight away.

  “Don’t even bother giving me some bullshit excuse, El. We’re doing this and we’re doing it tonight, end of conversation. Now go get changed and do as your told for once in your life.”

  She stomps off from me, leaving me standing there in the middle of her store with, a what the fuck just happened, expression on my face. Kate is trying her hardest not to chuckle at the pair of us.

  “You pair make me laugh every time without fail.” She declares before going in the same direction as her boss.

  Putting the dress back into the bag, I leave Sammi’s store and drag my butt back to our apartment, before she starts going on about this cocktail bar business again. I’m having words with her when she gets home that’s for sure.

  Just as I’m leaving the bathroom after my shower, I hear the apartment door close and Sammi say.

  “Thank the fucking lord that’s it’s Friday and Kate is running the store tomorrow.”

  Oh no, she isn’t getting away with her ambush earlier, that easily. With my towel still wrapped around my body and with droplets of water dripping onto the floor, I march over to where she is in the kitchen. I find her pouring glasses of wine and with my hand on my hip, I start tapping my foot and wait for her to acknowledge that I’m even there.

  “Look, you can scowl at me like that all you want and you can tap that foot until your little heart's content, but we are going out tonight. You will wear that dress. End of.”

  Just as I go to say something, there’s a knock on the apartment door.

  “If I was you, I would go put some clothes on.”

  Looking at her confused as she goes to answer the door, I say, “Why? If it’s Dean he’s seen me prancing around in a towel….” Before I can finish that sentence in walks Dean… with Nate, who by the way is minus one cast.

  Fuck my life.

  That sneaky little bitch. She knew he was coming; I can tell, because she won’t look at me now. That’s why she told me to go put some clothes on.

  I can’t move, I’m stuck to the spot, with water that’s dripped from my hair pooling around my feet. Why is he here? We have a patient and doctor relationship and that’s it. We’re not friends. We don’t hang out and he certainly doesn’t come over to my place, while I’m in nothing but a towel.

  Somebody, please, just shoot me right now.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nate

  For the past eight years, I’ve been just going through the motions to get the career I’ve always wanted. On the inside I’ve been numb. Fucking just for the fun of it, because it gave me something to do and the fact, I’m a male. So, who would say no to pussy when it’s being offered to you on a plate? Not me, that’s for sure.


  Thing is, since Eliza came back into my life, the numbness is starting to wear off. The ice that encased my heart has started to thaw out. I still look at her when I go to our therapy sessions and think why? Why did she do what she did, when we were nothing but perfect. I don’t ask, even though I want to know more than anything.

  For me, it’s always been an unanswered question that if I asked right now, she would still give me the same old bullshit reason she did back then. I’m still so god damn, fucking angry with her, but I can’t help the feelings that I know are starting to creep back in. The same feelings that I know, underneath all the numbness and ice didn’t really go away. They’ve just lay dormant and now they’re rearing their ugly heads again. If my career wasn’t at stake, I would’ve stopped being her patient, but unfortunately my career is in her hands. So, I go and sit on the bench in the park with her and mooch my way through the session. At the same time, I try my fucking hardest not to stare at her tits.

  Now I’m finding myself being dragged into her apartment by my so-called best friend. I don’t know what I want to do first, rip his head off for making me come here. Or drag Eliza over to me and strip her out of that piece of shit towel she’s trying to conceal her nakedness with? Today was going so well, as well.

  My doctor finally said that I could have my cast off, as long as I went to physical therapy to get back on top form, ready for when I play again. I quickly agreed and within the hour my leg was free. I was walking out of there, instead of hopping like Peter fucking Rabbit. When I called Dean and told him, he insisted that we were going to celebrate. I just think he was after a decent excuse to get drunk in my opinion, but I wasn’t going to say no.

  We’re all just standing around in the girl’s apartment, with an awkward silence surrounding us all. That's when it hits me, El didn’t know I was coming. Our friends have just shoved us together in a social situation, that we’re clearly not comfortable with. Well I say not comfortable with, I’m perfectly fine if I can stare at her in her current state of undress, but she clearly wants to kill someone. I’m guessing that someone is going to be Sammi. Eliza’s jaw is rigid, as she gives me a small wave with one hand and tries to hold her towel together with the other. Always the one to defuse a fucked-up situation, Dean claps his hands together and declares he’s getting beers out the fridge. Good fucking idea.

 

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