My head fell forward between my shoulders, as heavy as my heart.
8
Preslee
I made it to the elevators before the trembling set in. Down seven floors, the doors opened and I limped out of the car toward my apartment. I struggled to fit the key into the lock. The door flew open and Brenna stood there, wearing her ratty robe. Her smile beamed, wide and sly.
“Why are you home?” I asked.
“I decided I’d rather wait for you. Fun night?”
I stumbled past her to my bedroom and flopped onto my stomach, moaning into the bedspread.
“Christ, Pres, what happened.”
Brenna’s hand slid down my arm, rubbing it gently.
“He said no.”
“You’re a freaking goddess, so he’s an idiot.” Brenna curved around my waist. “Come out to the living room. We’ll eat some ice cream and talk about how awful men are.”
Brenna tugged me toward the couch. I flopped down and wrapped my arms around a throw pillow.
“So, you walked into the bar. Someone approached you immediately. Matteo?”
I sighed, refusing to answer her question. “I fought with the bartender. He didn’t want to serve me a second drink.”
If only I’d listened to him and left then. I dropped my pounding head to the pillow and groaned, my hand moving to clutch my ankle.
Brenna’s fingers touched my swollen skin. Her lip curled in disgust. “I’ll kill him.”
“I tripped.” I shrugged.
“Sounds like an excuse, Pres.”
I lifted my foot and showed her the heels. “I downed two drinks in like ten minutes—thanks to my nervousness when you shoved me into a bar alone—and then tried to walk in these.”
Which was as much of the truth as I planned to tell her. She’d hunt Teo down, especially if I mentioned he lived in our building. I clutched the pillow tighter.
I didn’t want any more drama or attempts at love. Time to get a purse dog, something to pet and pamper. I’d pretend contentment with my life. Except my half sisters and even my half niece found loving, committed relationships. Such transcendent love was possible. Just not for me.
“He has a live-in girlfriend.”
“What a jerk! How come you didn’t know about her?”
I shrugged and snagged my iPad from the coffee table and googled his name. Again.
Honey, I’m home! Why did she say that if she wasn’t his girlfriend? But Mariana acted curious when she saw me, not jealous. Teo repeated in article after article this year that his focus remained on soccer—on winning, on being traded so he could finish his career in Europe.
I closed the browser, my stomach knotting up all over again. Hadn’t Noah mentioned something about trade talks? The Timber organization was in them, but I couldn’t remember if Teo’s name was part of the possible deal. As a former soccer player, I understood the allure of playing for a European team. They had better reputations and better pay than most other countries. He’d be a fool not to go. Not to want to go.
I’d refused to listen to his explanation. Maybe there was a reason for the beautiful redhead to be there. And maybe I continued to remain a naive idiot. No one acquired a live-in friend. Unless the friend came with benefits of the sexual persuasion.
“Did you hear me, Pres?”
“Yeah. Men suck. I’m tired, Bren. I’m going to bed.”
“Want me to get you up in the morning? We can do breakfast before you spend the day with Abbi?”
I considered Brenna for a moment before I shook my head.
“I’m about to text Abbi to let her know I’m not feeling well. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pulled off the hateful shoes and carried them toward my room.
Brenna reached out and grabbed my hand, holding it tight in her smaller one. “Teo doesn’t know how great you are, Pres. He’s just some random douche.”
He was neither random nor a jerk. Hell, he stopped me, even after I threw myself at him. Not once—I closed my eyes and shivered—but twice. I groaned. The whole situation mortified me.
Brenna would happily march up there and get in his face if I told her anything more. She protected me with a tenaciousness I didn’t want. But because I didn’t know how to rein her in, I no longer tried.
I’d never gotten to be the independent person I dreamed of being, like my oldest half sister, Lia. She’d blazed her own trail, much to our mother’s frustration. I respected the hell out of Lia for living her life the way she wanted. One day I hoped to do the same. If I could figure out how. Right now, I needed to crawl in my bed and force today to cease to exist.
“I’ll be out here if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
“Love you, Pres.”
I closed my bedroom door before pulling off the trench. I hung it in my closet, but I dropped the dress on the floor, sneering at everything it represented. I slid on a pair of boy shorts and a cami—a much more comfortable outfit—and climbed into my bed. I pressed my flushed cheeks into my pillow, refusing to cry.
I texted Abbi to let her know I wouldn’t be at her place for our spa afternoon.
Abbi: What’s wrong?
Preslee: Coming down with something.
Abbi: You need anything?
Besides a do-over for this horrible day? For all of them since Oren hit me?
Preslee: No. I’m good. I’ll catch up with you soon.
Abbi: K. Holding you to that.
Light filtered through my curtains, and I rubbed my eyes. The night proved fitful, but I finally dropped into sleep after three. Now, my clock read ten. I never slept in so late.
After lying in bed for another few minutes, I pulled the pack from my bedside table and popped my birth control pill. I only remembered to take it consistently if I made it the first task of my day. While I might not be sexually active—and after last night I probably never would be again—I liked the shorter, more controlled periods the medication provided. Without the help, I was sporadic and spotty.
I leaned back against my pillow and shut my eyes again, only for them to spring open when I imagined Teo’s hands on my cheeks, the tender way he kissed my lips. His eyes darkened with the same frantic desire I’d felt just before they slid shut.
I managed to screw up again.
I stood, grimacing at my swollen ankle. Hobbling to my bathroom, I swished water in my mouth then brushed my teeth. The red suede heels were still on my bedroom floor. I picked them up and took them to my closet. Instead of dropping them back into their box, I threw one as hard as I could. It struck the dry wall and stayed. I glared at the hole, fuming, before I turned back to my bathroom.
Deep blisters oozed at my heels. I bandaged them and washed my face before limping into the kitchen. I picked up my phone from my nightstand on the way. I found a bunch of texts and even five missed calls.
Abbi: You went out with Teo Cruz last night?! WTH? Is that why you didn’t want to come over today? You could’ve just said you were too busy getting loved up by a soccer stud.
Noah: If you don’t respond to this in the next five minutes, I’m coming over there to make sure you’re okay.
I sent a group text back: I’m fine. At home. In my own bed. I twisted my ankle last night, and Teo carried me back to my building. That’s all.
And I’d stick to that story.
Noah: Brenna said you went to a bar last night. By yourself. What were you thinking? I’m so glad Teo was there to cart you home. But did you have to grab his ass?
Preslee: That was an accident! I nearly fell off his shoulder when he bent to pick up one of my shoes. You’re embarrassing me! Leave me alone, Noah. And leave him alone! I’m serious.
Noah: You sure I don’t need to pound in his face for taking advantage of you?
Preslee: Yes! Nothing happened.
Much as I wanted to turn off my phone, I went through my voice mails, trying not to wish too hard Teo had called. The calls were from various media outlets asking for comments about the p
ictures. I deleted all the messages.
I made myself a cup of tea before I picked up my iPad and typed in Teo’s name. There were five different pictures of us from last night. I touched my fingers to his perfect profile.
He hadn’t contacted me.
I wanted him to. I wanted him to say I misunderstood his response to me. That he wanted me. That we should be together forever. That we’d make a whole passel of cute little soccer and music prodigies.
I forced myself to turn off the iPad and sip my tea. I needed to respect his silence—his lack of interest.
Still, this newest rejection hurt. Badly.
When Brenna came home, she shoved my feet out of the way and sat on the other end of the couch.
“Ouch!”
Her face fell and she picked up my swollen ankle, rubbing it with her thumb. “I forgot. I’m sorry! Want some ibuprofen?”
She nudged me when she came back and I rolled over, took them from her hand and swallowed them.
“You’ve been here all day?”
I didn’t bother to respond.
“I’d bully you into going out, but I’m broke,” Brenna sighed.
“Aren’t you working full time for that software place downtown?”
Brenna made a face. “They downsized. Since I was the newest employee, I was the first to go. So back to temp work and part time gigs for me. Yippee.”
“I’m sorry, Bren. I know you liked that place. What can I do?”
“Well, I’d trade just about any sexual favor for Chinese tonight.”
I shook my head, pressed my hand to my aching stomach at the thought of food. Or sex. I planned to give both up forever.
Brenna narrowed her eyes, ready to argue. She turned my pale face toward hers. “Sweetie. Brenna’s here to make it all better.”
I shoved her hand away and leaned against the throw pillow. “Order whatever you want. My treat,” I sighed.
“Movie? I’ll just microwave popcorn while we wait for the Chinese. Want some Lo Mein?”
I shrugged. I wouldn’t watch whatever she put on, and we both knew it—just part of the ritual to try to get me back into a semblance of a real person. Brenna went to the kitchen. She closed the microwave door and then the corn began to pop.
She brought the bag back and picked up the remote. The smell of the popcorn hit my stomach hard. I stood on wobbly legs and managed to make it to the bathroom where I retched up the water and tea I managed to drink earlier.
“I’m so kicking his ass.” Brenna stood in my doorway, hands on her hips and scowl on her face.
I stood on quivery legs and managed to brush my teeth. “It must be a virus. If I’m lucky I gave it to him, too.”
“I haven’t heard about anything going around.”
“Probably something I picked up from all those kids last weekend.”
I walked to my bed and sank into the mattress.
“You never go to bed this early.
“I told you, I’m sick.”
“You’re freaking me out,” Brenna replied, yanking at the oversized sweatshirt I threw on a couple of hours ago. “Guys are such assholes. They don’t deserve to make you this upset.”
“I’m not upset. Just tired. Maybe sick. I’m sure I’ll feel better after some sleep.”
Brenna still looked worried.
“I’m getting in bed. My purse is sitting on one of the barstools. Grab what you need for your Lo Mein. Shut the door, please.”
“Are you going to cry?” Her voice, filled with compassion, brought the tears to the surface.
“Only if you don’t leave.”
“I’m going. We’ll get you through this.”
I nodded. She closed the door with a soft click. The TV switched on. My phone beeped. A text from Teo. Really? How did he get my phone number? Right. The volunteer roster at our clinic. But it took him all day to contact me. Wait. He had a photo shoot today. Why was I just remembering this?
I hesitated for a minute before opening the message.
Teo: I couldn’t find you last night. I need to know you’re okay. Even though I know you don’t want to talk to me.
I typed back the only important part of the entire situation: I’m fine—well, as fine as I can be since I’m embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior. Do me a favor. Please don’t contact me again.
His response was instantaneous. Mariana is staying with me, but we’re not dating. Can I see you to explain?
I snorted. That would be a big, fat no. My willpower disappeared whenever I saw Teo. Being in the same room with him when he tried to explain how he and Mariana weren’t dating—with my history, I’d probably believe him and end up on the cover of some terrible gossip magazine.
My heart ached as I typed, there’s nothing left to say.
Brenna knocked on my door the next morning.
“You planning to get up?” She poked her head into my room. I lay in bed, feeling groggy and anxious.
“No, I have the day off.”
“I’m seriously worried now. You never miss an opportunity to practice. We’re going to the clinic.”
“I’ll take myself.”
Brenna held up her phone and waved it. “Your appointment’s in half an hour. Let’s go.”
I glared, but Brenna crossed her arms. “I’ll stay in the waiting room, Miss Independence. You can get an X-ray for your ankle, too.”
I agreed because my ankle still ached. Brenna had managed to find the pair of crutches she’d used when she broke her leg a couple of years before, and I hopped into the clinic’s waiting room. After a short wait, I was escorted back where the nurse practitioner diagnosed me with dehydration from the virus I contracted.
“This one’s been making the rounds. Shouldn’t last too much longer.”
“Good.” I sighed. “I don’t like to vomit.”
“I don’t know anyone who does,” she replied cheerfully. “Now, let’s get that ankle X-rayed.”
As I suspected, my ankle was sprained—I’d need the crutches for a few more days at most.
I went straight to my room when I returned to our condo, glad for the break from Brenna’s hovering.
I called my half niece Abbi. She and I got along well, and besides Brenna, she was one of the few people I was comfortable talking to.
“Hiya, Pres. How’s it going?”
Maybe calling her was a bad idea. I didn’t want to make Abbi sad. “Tired. I picked up a virus from the kids. Are you still in Seattle?”
“Yeah, until next Sunday. We’re all congregating out at Mom’s place this weekend. Want to come hang out?”
“You don’t think Lia will mind?”
“She wants you to come. She loves you just as much as I do. You know it’s your mom she’s still working to get along with.”
I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat.
“Briar and Hayden are coming over on Saturday. Asher bought some huge smoker-thing he’s excited to try out. He mentioned a whole pig. I so hope he was joking.”
“Clay will be there, right?”
“Yep. Want me to ask him to bring a friend?”
I groaned. “No. You all freaked out over a picture a couple of days ago. I’m not interested in repeating that.”
“You mean striker Teo?” Abbi asked.
Abbi wouldn’t judge either Teo and me as harshly as Brenna had. “Yes. I crashed and burned all in one night.”
“Ouch. How are you doing with that?”
“I’ll be okay. I didn’t sleep with him, so that helps.” Some.
Except it didn’t. I’d needed to feel desirable, wanted. What man turned down sex? I scowled. A moral one, apparently.
“You don’t sound like you’re fine,” Abbi said. Silence stretched, and I knew she was probably worrying her lower lip, in the right corner like she did when she was thinking or concerned. “Want to come up to my place? I don’t have classes until this evening.”
Abbi lived a couple of floors above me. One of the per
ks of being in the same building was we tended to spend quality time together. “No, I’m probably contagious.”
“You really liked him.”
I blew out a breath. “More than liked.” Admitting my feelings eased a little of the ache. “He’s great with the kids at the soccer camps. He’s funny and thoughtful. Plus, he’s an amazing soccer player. Have you seen his legs?”
Abbi giggled. “I’m pretty sure the whole world’s drooled over his legs. And his booty in that ad outside our building. Total hotness.”
“It’s my fault.” I sighed. “I’ve never wanted a sweet, boring man. Oren played football through college. I liked all those sexy muscles.”
“First off, Oren was a weak excuse for a human. A strong man wouldn’t hit a woman.”
I knew Abbi understood my continued standoffishness. She’d had to deal with her own personal hell last year when her ex-boyfriend dosed her with GHB and then took pictures of Abbi in compromising positions with three different men.
Only after she met Clay did Abbi tell her side of the story. I was proud of her and the foundation she helped set up to work with other victims of date rape and cyber bulling.
“If Matteo Cruz didn’t want you, that’s his loss. A big one. You’re fun, Pres. Not to mention ridiculously talented. Asher’s frantic to work with you.”
I grunted. “He tricked me onto the last one.”
Abbi laughed. “It’s turned out okay. That song’s gorgeous. Who knew an electric viola could sound so cool? Doesn’t Teo have a game tomorrow? Maybe he’s busy prepping for that and he hasn’t had a chance to call.”
“Ugh. You just reminded me. I’m playing the national anthem with a group from the symphony, so I guess I’ll have to face the music so to speak. I’ll make up for spa day next week.”
“Awesome. I’m looking forward to seeing you, Pres. It’s been too long.”
9
Teo
Two Days Before…Right After Preslee Left
Mariana met me at my condo’s door, my breathing still ragged from running after Preslee. Exhaustion weighed on me. All I wanted was a hot shower, a cold beer, and my damn hamstring to quit hurting.
Striker's Waltz (Seattle Sound Series Book 6) Page 6
