by J. M. Hill
“Fight On.” He draped his arm over my shoulders. “Are you still mad at me for being late this morning?”
“No, but don’t let it happen again,” I warned with a smirk.
He folded his arms across his chest and grinned, watching me as I made my coffee. My face turned red, and he stifled a laugh, still watching me. I pulled the cream from the fridge and when I turned around he was still staring with the same grin on his face. I pursed my lips together as I stirred my coffee and then turned to look at him.
“What?” I asked. “What are you staring at?”
He smiled and shrugged casually. “I’m staring at you.”
His eyes didn’t leave mine, and my face got hot. After an uncomfortable moment he chuckled, releasing me from his gaze as he walked over to sit at the table with his brothers.
Geez…
Kate high-fived me when she saw my USC shirt and we did our traditional, hip-bumping while we hummed the ‘Fight Song’ making the boys laugh. We all ate waffles with strawberries, talking about the Bowl games, and the Rose Parade. Kate and I planned on making homemade pizza, hot wings, and of course, brownies. I refilled everyone’s coffee cups, and we sat for a long while at the table, just visiting and laughing.
Eventually, I got up and started clearing dishes, and as usual, Michael helped me. When we finished, we all went to the living room and watched the parade and drank our coffee. We spent the rest of New Years Day, watching football, eating pizza, and having a great time. USC won the Rose Bowl—again, and Florida won their game; so we were all pretty happy. We all talked about getting back to work, and into our regular schedules. Garrett had to go to Denver to check on the St. Joseph’s job, Miles and Michael both had blueprints and proposals to present to a client in Denver for a new hotel. And of course Kate and I would be busy getting back into our schedule at the shop.
Michael asked if I was going to run in the morning, and I said yes, but that if he was late, I was leaving his butt in the driveway. He just rolled his eyes and tousled my hair as he walked out the door.
The remainder of the week was fairly uneventful, the boys stayed busy with their work, and Kate and I stayed busy with ours. By the time Friday arrived, I was tired and looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Kate and Miles had dinner plans, Garrett was going to Kenny’s apartment with Evan to play video games—I was invited, but declined the offer—Michael had a late meeting in Denver, so I had a date with Haagen Dazs and some laundry.
When I arrived home I changed into my comfy jeans and a sweatshirt, moved the clean towels from the washer to the dryer, starting a new load of Kate’s and my clothes. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a carton of chocolate-peanut butter from the freezer and channel-surfed looking for something worth watching.
Nothing good.
I decided to watch a movie, but went to pull the towels from the dryer first, carrying them to the sofa. I put on a CD of Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, and turned up the volume, singing and dancing as I folded the warm towels. “And if I was from Paris/ If I was from Paris/ I would say Ooh-la-la-la-la-la-la-la…”
I picked up the folded towels to take them to the bathrooms and when I turned, Michael was leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest with a giant smirk on his face. I jumped, dropping the towels on the floor, and clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.
“Holy. Crap.” I scowled at him. “Why do you do that?”
“Sorry.” He sniggered. “I rang the doorbell.”
My heart pounded as he watched me, and I was completely embarrassed. He walked toward me slowly, holey jeans, gray sweater, and black leather jacket, hair in its usual gorgeous disarray. I tried to be casual, but didn’t pull it off too well, because I was still breathing heavy as I bent down to pick up the towels.
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked trying not to look at him.
“Long enough to know that if you were from Paris, you would say ooh-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.”
I closed my eyes and wondered if I’d ever be able to make it through a twenty-four hour period without humiliating myself in front of Michael Anderson.
He pursed his lips together in an attempt to hide the humor he found in the situation, and then reached over and turned the stereo volume down.
“I thought you might be hungry, I brought Chinese.” He looked at the coffee table and saw the empty carton of ice cream and smiled. “Or have you already eaten?”
“Very funny,” I grabbed the carton and spoon to take to the trash. “Chinese sounds great.”
Michael picked up the bag of Chinese food from the floor, and went into the kitchen while I took the towels to my bathroom. He got us drinks, while I grabbed plates and forks, and I sat across from him as we started eating quietly.
“Thanks for bringing dinner.” I twirled some Lo-Mein on my fork. “That was nice of you.”
“My pleasure,” he said. “How has your week been?”
“Pretty busy,” I told him. “What about you?”
“Same.”
We ate in silence, except for the music playing, and after the dishes were done we went into the living room.
“So how about a movie?” I asked.
“Sure.”
I went to the shelf with our DVD collection, and decided to take a gamble, sliding one of my favorites from the shelf and holding it up to Michael, ready for his usual reaction.
He rolled his eyes with a groan.
“Oh come on!” I pleaded. “I’ve been begging you to watch this for months!”
He tossed his head back against the couch, like he was in pain.
“Your brother didn’t want to watch it at first either,” I informed him. “And now it’s one of his favorites.”
“Well, which one is this? I mean weren’t there like ten?”
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll admit that after the third they went downhill fast.” He grinned as I started my much rehearsed and always ready ‘Defense of the Rocky Films’ speech. “But I will have you know this was nominated for ten—that’s right ten—Academy Awards and it won three.”
He was looking at me like I was nuts.
“One of them for Best Screenplay which was written by Sylvester Stallone himself, not to mention it is listed as one of the 100 Best Movies of All Time.”
Michael laughed now, but Rocky was one of Kate’s and my absolute favorite movies, and we would defend it to the end. Plus we both had a thing for Sly.
“Okay, okay.” He continued to laugh. “I’ll watch it, settle down.”
“That’s right you’ll watch it.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t be trashing Rocky.”
He watched me with a grin as the movie started, and I pointed to the TV. We watched the movie without saying anything, though I glanced at him often to watch his reactions. When it was over I sighed my Rocky sigh, wiping my eyes and he turned to face me, his lips pursed together tightly. “Okay,” he said. “You were right and I was wrong. It was really good, I had no idea.”
I smiled and clapped my hands which made him laugh.
“You see?” I raised an eyebrow. “And you thought I was crazy.”
He chuckled. “Well, you are a little. I’ve never seen anyone get so defensive over a movie.”
His expression changed as he watched me, as if warring internally over some kind of dilemma.
“What?” I asked him.
“May I ask you something?”
My throat got tight as I nodded reluctantly.
“I was just wondering,” he said quietly. “That night, in the car…”
Oh no.
I felt my face turn red right away, and I wanted to crawl under the couch. I was confused why he wanted to bring this up when things were just getting back to normal.
“Michael,” I shook my head. “I really don’t want to go back to that again—”
“I understand,” he interrupted. “But I just wanted to know if you think that I don’t care about you.”
He tilted his head slightly, and his eyes were sad.
“But you were hoping for more.”
I looked down, unable to meet his eyes, and took a deep breath.
“I knew by saying anything I could be risking losing you as my friend,” I confessed. “But—”
“But,” his voice was quiet. “You were willing to risk that.”
“I suppose I was, but now that I know how you feel, I would never do anything to risk our friendship again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that no matter how I feel,” I tried to explain. “I would rather have your friendship than nothing. If I ever lost you as my friend…” I shook my head, the thought too heartbreaking to even consider.
“You’ll never lose me as your friend, Grace, okay?” He assured me. “I don’t want you to ever doubt that, but I need you to understand why I said what I did.”
I nodded reluctantly and braced myself for something bad.
“Two years ago, I was engaged to be married,” he said quickly.
A broken engagement didn’t seem like a big deal to me, so I was a little more than confused, but I waited for him to continue.
“Her name is Allison Landers, our families have known each other since we were in elementary school. Our parents were close, and Allison and I were always very good friends. Our families would always tell us how great we’d be together, and how wonderful it would be if we ended up getting married.”
His eyes dropped to his hands.
“She’s a very kind and caring person, and she loved me.” He took a deep breath. “So, I proposed to her.”
He glanced sideways at me, as if ashamed, but I just nodded.
“She accepted and our families were thrilled. We planned for our wedding. Neither one of us felt it necessary to have a long engagement, so the wedding was planned for six months after I proposed. It was going to be Allison’s dream wedding, and she was ecstatic. But, two weeks before the wedding…I called it off. She was so devastated,” he said quietly. “I broke her heart, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“Why didn’t you marry her?”
He shrugged his shoulders sadly.
“Because as much as I loved Allison as a person and as my friend, I wasn’t in love with her. I’d known it all along, but believed as much as I cared about her, the love I had for her would grow into something more. The only thing I accomplished, was hurting Allison. My family supported my decision, saying I’d done the right thing by calling it off.” He heaved a sigh. “I hurt someone I really cared for because I was too much of a coward to be honest with her, or myself.”
“So, you wish you wouldn’t have called it off?” I asked, not sure I was ready for the answer. “Because you do love her?”
“No, but remember that day on our run,” his voice was quiet. “When you were talking about giving pieces of yourself away to different people?”
I nodded.
“Grace, my problem isn’t that I gave myself away. My problem is I’m the one who caused someone to be broken.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I put you in that position. I had no idea.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “But you have to understand, I think about Allison every day, and the pain I caused her.” His eyes bore right through mine. “It scares me to think about hurting anyone like that again. You deserve someone who will make you happy.”
“And you think I don’t deserve you?”
“No.” He shook his head sadly, and squeezed my hands tightly. “It’s me that doesn’t deserve you.”
“That’s ridiculous, Michael. You’re one of the most wonderful people I know.”
“You deserve better.”
I pulled my hands away, feeling nauseous, because I knew what he was trying to tell me.
“So, who do you deserve then? Someone like Nina?”
His forehead creased. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I’m just trying to understand what you’re saying. I mean, you spend an awful lot of time with Nina, so obviously she’s what you want and what you feel you deserve.”
“Grace, I—”
“I’m sorry for what happened with Allison, I really am.” I stood from the sofa. “But, to say you don’t deserve to be happy just because you were honest? I don’t believe it. You deserve so much more than Nina Sandler. How someone like you could be with someone like her, I’ll never understand that.”
He stood from the couch and glared at the floor.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “I don’t understand. You feel guilty about something that happened over two years ago, so you don’t think you deserve happiness. I don’t understand that at all.”
When he didn’t respond I began to feel guilty for my rant.
“I’m really sorry about what happened with Allison. I don’t believe for a moment you would ever intentionally hurt anyone. And I’m sorry for what I said about Nina, because it’s none of my business. You’re an amazingly good and kind person, Michael. You deserve to be happy.”
He lifted his gaze to mine, and I tried to smile, but it wouldn’t come. As much as I wanted happiness for him, I knew he didn’t want happiness with me.
“Grace,” he whispered and reached for my hand, but I stepped away.
My heart broke all over again, and I knew his touch would be too painful.
FIFTEEN
The following week seemed like the longest of my life.
I hadn’t seen Michael since our conversation on that night. Garrett said he was working a lot, which meant he was most likely with Nina. My head told me it was time to move on, but my heart missed him. Missed him so much it hurt.
It was snowing, which normally would have given me an excuse to go back to bed, but I went out to the drive and started my run alone. There was nothing but the silence falling snow brought. The ground was barely covered, and there was no wind, so it wasn’t too bad.
I ran, not really thinking about anything, the only sound being my feet against the pavement that was lightly dusted with the fresh snow. I heard a car coming from the road ahead of me, and I moved over to the shoulder waiting for it to pass. As the engine got louder, I saw the familiar red Porsche winding its way up the two-lane road.
It was of course, Nina’s car, and when she saw me she slowed to a crawl. I thought about pretending not to notice her and keep running, but it was too late. I stopped, staying where I was, and her window came down slowly. She smiled the usual sweet smile I knew was a façade.
“Hello, Grace.”
“Good morning,” I stood with my hands on my hips, waiting for her to say whatever she was going to say, wishing she would just get on with it so I could finish my run.
“You’re very dedicated to run in this.” She looked up at the falling snow.
“I suppose.” I’d dealt with Nina enough to know she was about to pull something from her arsenal of ‘Grace Insults’.
“I guess some people have to be dedicated when it comes to exercising.” She chuckled as she looked me up and down. “It’s good you make the time.”
And there it was. Bull’s-eye.
Ouch.
I looked down at the ground, attempting to recover from her hit on my self-esteem, and trying not to say anything I might regret.
“Well it was nice to see you,” she lied. “I’m just on my way to see Michael. We have an early appointment.”
“Okay then,” I said. “Have a good day.”
I turned away to continue my run.
“You know, Grace,” she said sweetly, and I turned to face her again. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way or anything…”
Yeah, right.
Something was coming, and it wasn’t going to matter how she said it, it was going to be ugly.
“I know how you feel about Michael,” she was attempting to sound concerned. “But I think you should know that he’ll never really be interested in you.”
I felt anger stirring in me, and I narrowed my eyes at her.
She shook her head. “I mean really, what could the two of you possibly have in common?”
“Unlike the two of you.” They had nothing in common except money. The two of them were polar opposites, and I knew it.
“We have more in common than you might think.” She laughed. “Michael and I have become very…close, and I think the sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you.”
My stomach rolled over. “Is that all?”
She watched me for a moment, and her expression gave nothing away. I turned and started my run again. I felt uncomfortable having my back to her, but I kept going, hearing the engine of her car rev and continue up the road.
The sickening knot formed in my stomach as I ran, thinking about what she said. I knew that once again, she’d tried to hit where I was the most vulnerable, and once again she succeeded.
I didn’t turn around at my usual spot, I just kept running. It was a good five miles into town, and that’s where I decided to go. I’d just call Kate or Garrett to pick me up later.
I needed some time to recover—alone.
When I got to the coffee shop, Kenny and Peggy were both busy with customers. Kenny gave me a confused look when he saw me, but I just nodded and walked back to the office, taking off my coat and gloves. I went into Kate’s and my private bathroom—which was always stocked with our personal hygiene items—to wash my hands and brush through my hair returning it to the ponytail again. I put on some hand lotion as I flopped down in Kate’s chair in front of the desk and stared at the ceiling.
“Gracie?” Kenny had his head poked through the doorway. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
He looked at me skeptically. “Then why are you here?”
“I don’t know, but if I’m making you uncomfortable, just pretend I’m not here.”
He chuckled. “No, I was just checking. Can I get you something?”
“Thanks, Kenny, but I’m good.”
