Naked Love

Home > Other > Naked Love > Page 25
Naked Love Page 25

by Ann, Jewel


  Sydney lifts her head to speak then clamps her jaw shut as Deedy walks into the kitchen, tying her robe.

  “Good morning.”

  We smile at Deedy and return pleasantries.

  She pours a cup of coffee and joins us at the table. “Someone had a good night.” Deedy takes a sip of coffee but not before smirking.

  “Oh god!” Sydney covers her face again.

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I have a feeling Tommy will make me sing later too.”

  “NO!” Sydney and I yell at the same time.

  I shake my head. “Sorry. You can call him Tommy, Dicky, or Harry, but he’s still our dad. And in our naïve, little world, our Daddy doesn’t ever go there like Lautner or—” My posture deflates.

  Deedy and Sydney stare at me, sympathy pouring from their tiny frowns.

  “Jake …” I say his name on a slow sigh. “He was good at going there. Really, really good.”

  “And by there you mean—” Deedy bites her lower lip.

  “Wherever your there might be.” I cut her off.

  Deedy nods slowly. “Oh … my there is—”

  “Nope.” I hold up my index finger and wave it side to side. “It was a statement, not a question.”

  Sydney snorts, and Deedy grins while nodding. “Fair.”

  There’s a knock at the front door. Sydney slides the cup back to me as she stands. “I don’t want your backwash.” She answers the door and returns with an envelope. “Special courier delivery.”

  I take the envelope with my name on it and open it.

  “Who’s it from?” Sydney asks while taking a seat again at the table.

  I shake my head, reading his message. “Anthony,” I mumble as a key drops onto the table. “It’s the address for a storage facility where he’s keeping my stuff.”

  “You have a month to empty out your stuff, a grand in your checking account, and a new phone will be delivered tomorrow to your sister’s house. Don’t ever contact me again.”

  “Wh—are you serious?” Sydney picks up the key and inspects it. “Did you message him or call him after dinner last night?”

  “No.” I set down the letter and stare at it, rereading his words. “Don’t ever contact me again. Sounds like he’s mad. How did he go from begging for dinner to this?”

  Sydney slides the key back to me. “Who cares? We’ll get that storage unit emptied tomorrow. You need to take that grand and open an account at a different bank and make sure the phone is brand-new and with a different provider. You need to completely cut him out of your life.”

  “Amen.” Deedy holds up her mug of coffee like a toast.

  Me? I read the letter a third time. It makes no sense. Anthony thrives on winning. This isn’t him winning. It’s him surrendering.

  “Deedy, I’ll get Ocean up and have Dad watch Asher. We are going to get our hair done because it’s your wedding day!” Sydney’s so much better at Team Deedy than I am, but I’ll get there.

  I stare at my fingernails. They are neat and trimmed, but I should’ve gotten them painted. Men are done ruling my life, toying with my emotions, and trampling my self-esteem. “Do we have time to stop someplace so I can get a couple coats of polish on my nails?”

  Sydney grins. “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  “Fuck me …” I whisper.

  “Shh!” Sydney nudges my elbow. “We’re in church,” she grits through her fake smile as Jake walks Deedy down the aisle.

  Jake Matthews in a suit. My ovaries just exploded, sending a volcano of heat down to disintegrate my panties. I didn’t think I could possibly hate him more, but I do. He gets an extra dose of hate from me today because of how fuckable he looks in that black suit and mustard and white tie that matches the color of our strapless Dress Barn dresses.

  I think it’s that Jake looks completely out of place in a suit, which makes him look vulnerable despite everything else about him that screams confidence.

  Peeling my gaze off Jake, I watch my dad. He often looked at my mom that way. I don’t remember all the looks he gave her, I was young, but I remember this one. It’s bittersweet because I’m happy for him, but I miss my mom. It’s bittersweet because I caught a few glimpses of Jake looking at me like that on our trip. But that’s all they were—glimpses.

  I deserve a man who looks at me like that, even on my worst day. And the most bittersweet reality of all is that I might not have ever realized my true self-worth had I not met Jake Matthews.

  A tear releases from one eye. I quickly wipe it off my cheek.

  The minister starts to speak of second-chance love.

  Another unavoidable tear.

  My dad mouths “I love you” to Deedy, and ten more tears insist on breaking free.

  Lautner winks at Sydney.

  More stupid tears.

  Jake, from the front pew next to Asher, hands Ocean a handkerchief to give me, and … I die.

  “Pull it together,” Sydney whispers.

  I blow out a slow, shaky breath and think of something … anything to dam the emotions. Focusing on Deedy and my father, I think about tonight—their wedding night—and how she’s going to ask him to go there. And then I imagine where there might be and what he might do to her when he gets there.

  Yep, that dries up all the tears. Now, I need to deal with the bile crawling up my throat.

  “I pronounce you husband and wife.”

  Our tiny gathering cheers as my dad kisses Deedy. It’s soft and fairly quick. PG for the grandkids. He takes her hand and leads her out of the sanctuary. Lautner follows them with his wife and two beautiful children.

  The minister waits, but after a few moments of me staying rooted to the same spot and Jake unmoving from his seat on the pew, he exits the sanctuary as well.

  And then there were two …

  I can’t not look at him. Just his presence manages to demand my attention.

  “I know what you want.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  I tighten my grip on my small bouquet, tighten my jaw, tighten the chains around my heart.

  “Acceptance. You want me to accept you for who you are. The good, the bad, and everything in between.”

  Acceptance.

  I play with that word in my mind, applying it to the things that I’ve done, the person I am, the dreams I have, and the fears that haunt me.

  “No.” I take three steps to walk toward the back of the sanctuary.

  Jake grabs my wrist. “Ave …” Like his grip on me, his voice leaks desperation.

  I jerk my arm from his grasp. “I don’t want you to accept me. I don’t accept how you’ve treated me. I don’t accept Anthony cheating on me. But here’s the thing with acceptance … it’s not really a choice. Not accepting something doesn’t change the fact that it happened or that something just is. Acceptance is this illusion that we’re in control. I unknowingly had a relationship with a married man. It. Happened. You choosing to accept it doesn’t change a single thing. So if your acceptance is simply your brain finally wrapping itself around reality, then yay for you. Good job, Jake. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” My feet move on their own, spurred by the self-preservation signal from my brain.

  Just as I reach the back doors to the sanctuary, Jake’s defeated voice stops me. “So, that’s it? We’re over? There’s nothing I can say to make things right between us? Not a million sorry’s for what I said to you? Not begging you to forgive me for letting my past and all my resentment toward my past tear us apart? Nothing?”

  I chuckle, but it’s the kind that hurts, the kind that steps up to take the pain when you’re just too cried out. “The English language has hundreds of thousands of words. There’s always … something to say.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A week ago, we said goodbye to Dad and Deedy as they headed off on an impromptu honeymoon in a rental car pointed toward wine country. Today, I had a job interview.

  “I got the job,” I interrupt Lautner as he d
rones on about some object he pulled out of a kid’s nose today.

  Sydney hands me another slice of pizza as everyone at the table gives me their attention. Lautner doesn’t look bothered by my interruption. He holds a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes.

  “It’s just part-time, so I’m not quite ready to move out.” I give him a tiny cringe of apology.

  “No one said you have to move out.” He grins.

  Why does he have to be so perfect? And why did he fall in love with Sydney before I had the chance to take him for myself?

  “That’s great, Ave. And you think your hand is good? You’ll be able to massage people?” Sydney nods to the kids when Ocean asks if they can be excused from the table.

  I want a table with kids who ask to be excused, and a husband who lovingly welcomes the homeless and jobless.

  One step at a time.

  “It’s barefoot bar. I’ll be fine. But I need to find something else to supplement that income. Also, I’ve been contacting some friends, looking for a roommate. I’m pretty sure it’s going to be awhile before I can rent on my own.” I take a bite of pizza.

  Sydney and Lautner stare at me, eerily still and expressionless. On second thought, they look utterly shocked. Yeah, that’s the vibe I’m getting.

  “What?” I shrug.

  “Who are you?” Sydney chuckles, a nervous kind of laugh. “What happened to you between Milwaukee and here?”

  I sigh, wiping my mouth. “The past month has bestowed several heavy doses of reality upon me. Love. Heartbreak. Loss. Humiliation. Maybe I found God again. Wouldn’t that make Dad proud?”

  Sydney nods in micro increments, eyes slightly narrowed. “Give us a minute, babe.”

  Lautner pauses the pizza at his mouth.

  “Take the rest.” She shoves the box in his direction, tossing him a wicked smile.

  I love their story. Their looks. The exchanges that say so much about how hard they worked to get to this point in their life. Will I ever share that same smile? The same kind of love?

  He stands, bending over to bite her neck. She jumps and giggles. Her smile settles into something more somber and sympathetic when he saunters off with the rest of the pizza. Her attention returns to me.

  “If Jake said he’s sorry, and you love him, what’s holding you back?” Sydney sets her napkin on the table and leans back in her chair, arms folded across her chest.

  “Why did you wait so long to tell Lautner about Ocean?”

  She frowns.

  I shake my head on a slow sigh. “It’s not a real question. I know the answer. I know you were crippled by fear, the idea of rejection, and the need to protect your heart. Well …” I lean forward, resting my arms on the table. “I’m doing the same thing. I’d say it’s a Montgomery trait, but I think it’s a human trait. If Jake were emotionally stable, free of a troubled past, if he simply had this knee-jerk reaction to my confession … I think it would be easier to …”

  “Forgive him?”

  I shake my head. “I forgive him. I just don’t trust him. He has too many demons, and I’m a trigger for all of them.”

  “So you love him. You forgive him. But you don’t think you can trust him?”

  “Bingo.”

  Sydney’s lips twist to the side. “Deedy thinks he’s quite the catch. Kind. Loyal. Protective. I don’t sense she feels he’s not trustworthy. But … I’m Team Avery. So, if he’s not trustworthy for you, then I support your decision. I never imagined you’d be the calm in the storm these past few weeks, but other than the makeup incident at the rehearsal dinner, you’ve been helpful with the kids—”

  “I love Ocean and Asher. That’s nothing new. And what do you mean by makeup incident?”

  “Really?” She curls a few strands of hair around her finger. “So you didn’t panic at the thought of seeing Jake? You didn’t want to prove to him that you’re your own person?”

  “Pfft … I didn’t panic. I had an epiphany. Two totally different things.”

  Laughter bubbles from Sydney’s chest. “An epiphany?”

  “Yes. I realized that I let him in my head to the point that I didn’t know if my thoughts were mine or his.” I shrug. “The fact is … I like makeup and clothes. I like it when my hair looks nice and my nails are painted. If I don’t use these things to measure my self-worth, then I don’t see why it’s a problem.”

  She stands, gathering the dirty plates. “Maybe you did find God.” A smirk tugs at her lips. “You do you, Ave. Just make sure you’re not letting your ego and pride steal something that has great potential.”

  I help her clear the table, opening my mouth several times before clamping it shut. Sydney gives me several knowing glances, taunting me to react, to say more.

  “He’s a good kisser.” I break the silence.

  “Yeah?” Sydney gives me a raised eyebrow.

  Biting back my grin, I nod. “If he could love me the way he kisses me … you’d be the jealous sister for once.” I wink at her.

  * * *

  Jake

  Two weeks later.

  Sage Leaf Cafe, Los Angeles

  “Yo, Jake! A group of women out front are asking for you. Hot ones.” Seth wipes his hands on a white bar towel and grins at me before pushing his way back through the swinging door to the front of the restaurant.

  I finish entering a few sales figures into my accounting program and shut my laptop.

  “You didn’t think I was going to leave without saying goodbye, did you?” Deedy saunters around the counter and gives me a big hug and kisses me on the cheek.

  My gaze falls over her shoulder to Sydney, Ocean, and Avery, and my chest tightens. “How was wine country?” I force confidence and enthusiasm into my words. Avery makes me nervous and anxious—and awkward. It’s not easy being friendly but not overbearing. Confident, even when I want to beg her to just tell me how to make things right.

  “Beautiful. We stayed at three different B&B’s. I don’t want to go home, but duty calls. The honeymoon is over.” She grabs my hand and pulls me around the counter. “I wanted to have lunch with you and my new favorite girls before leaving. Know a good place to eat?”

  Sydney chuckles when I smile, and Avery’s lips turn up just a fraction. Her airy white top accentuates her tan. Her denim miniskirt is probably designer, like her bag and shoes, but her hair is messy, perfectly windblown, and her face bears very little makeup.

  However, that gaze of hers … it ping-pongs around the room like it’s too much to look at me for more than a few seconds. This intensifies the pain in my chest. Deedy gave me Avery’s new phone number. My thumb has hovered over the call button a hundred times. I’ve driven past Sydney’s house at least another hundred times.

  Words.

  So many damn words.

  I can’t find the right ones. When I think I’ve figure it out, this little voice in my head convinces me to find new ones, better ones. But right now, I can’t find a single one.

  “Or … do you not have time for us?”

  “What?” I shake out of my Avery daze and refocus on Deedy. “Real funny. Yeah, I do happen to know a place. Hey, Seth. We’ll be upstairs. Can you please bring up an assortment from the menu?”

  “You got it.”

  “Upstairs? Did you finish repainting?” Deedy asks.

  “Yep, last week. Follow me.”

  I lead them up the backstairs to my apartment. At the top of the stairs, I hold open the door for everyone. Avery is last in line. She risks a quick glance at me while bending down to slip off her platform sandals. I give her my best smile. Maybe it will help me channel the best words.

  “This table is amazing!” Sydney runs her hand along my irregular-shaped table made from several old tree stumps.

  “Thanks. It was custom made from an eco-friendly furniture store up in San Francisco.”

  “And your view. Ocean, come look at the surfers.” Sydney waves Ocean toward the wall of windows.

  Avery takes slow steps around m
y studio apartment with her fingers dipped into the front, shallow pockets of her miniskirt. She says nothing but seems to give everything a thorough inspection.

  “Can we walk down to the beach?” Ocean asks.

  “Maybe after lunch.”

  “You guys surf?” I get everyone glasses of fresh citrus water.

  “Ocean and Lautner surf. I take pictures.” Sydney sits at the table, running her hand over the glassy-smooth surface again.

  “Ave, do you surf?” I ask like she’s a recent acquaintance, not like having her here, in my space, has my heart hammering against my chest because all I want to do is go back in time and change how I reacted to her confession.

  She cocks her head at a black and white photo of me from my very last fight. I was more ripped then, my head shaven, one eye swollen shut. Unrecognizable to anyone who didn’t know me then, except for my tattoos. It’s not a glamour shot. But … I won.

  “Sometimes,” she mumbles, cocking her head to the other side.

  “Rarely.” Sydney rolls her eyes.

  “More than you.” Avery’s tone remains even, like she’s answering on autopilot, not at all bothered by her sister challenging her.

  My lungs trap my breath as Avery’s finger brushes along the photo over my swollen eye and the trail of blood down my cheek.

  Blood, sweat, and tears.

  That’s what Gavin told me it would take to beat my undefeated opponent. I’m pretty sure that it’s going to take so much more than that to make things right with the woman I love.

  After three quick knocks, I open the door and take the trays of food from Seth. “Thanks, buddy.”

  I serve the food, giving Deedy a wink when she leaves the chair next to Avery for me.

  Avery pulls her phone out of her purse and glances at something on the screen for a few seconds before sliding the phone back into her purse.

  “New phone?” I hand everyone napkins.

  “Yes.” She inspects my face like she’s still trying to connect it to the one in the photo.

  “New phone. And she got all of her stuff back from Anthony without a fight or meeting him for dinner. Dad gave his ‘God works in mysterious ways’ speech. And Lautner’s friend owns a car dealership, and he’s loaned Ave a used car to ‘test drive’ until she gets a full-time job.” Sydney, taps her fork on her lower lip. “Which really another part-time job would work. Right, Ave?”

 

‹ Prev