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Anyone but Him

Page 11

by Cassie Graham


  I snort. I just had this internal struggle. I have no one. As shitty as that is to admit, I am in this alone. “Jennings, I don’t know. Seriously, everyone has their own things going on. I’m stuck in a rut.”

  Confused, Jennings puts the car in drive and pulls away from the side of the road. “A rut? Whitley, Jesus, you’re having a bad day. That’s it. You have Holli.”

  “Holli is busy,” I interrupt. “Blaine and the show take up all of her time. I can’t assume she has time for me. She needs to go on and live her life.”

  Jennings pulls into a colossal driveway, where one of the biggest houses on the block sits. Four pillars hold up a gigantic porch, and it looks like we stepped back in time. Bright red bricks and white trim, the three-story house looks bigger than my house and Jennings put together.

  “That doesn’t mean,” he starts.

  “Wow,” I breathe, interjecting, again.

  Jennings parks next to the black SUV in front of the home and turns off the engine. He gives the house a glance and turns to me. “Yeah, it’s a nice house, hush. We aren’t getting out of this car until you talk to me.”

  Damn, he’s a hard ass.

  “I am talking to you,” I break, sighing. “Ass.”

  Jennings mouth thins, trying not to laugh and he gives an exasperated look. “You’re talking, but not really. Dammit, I knew you’d be difficult, but I didn’t think it would be this hard to get you to talk.”

  I stare at the house lights, soft and illuminating as I consider what to say. I am who I am. I’ve never been one to really voice my thoughts. I’m an introvert.

  “Jenns, I don’t really open up to anyone. It’s not you.”

  He balls his right fist and lightly taps his chest, mocking pain. “Ooo, you’re gonna use that cliché, huh?”

  My mouth bunches to the side and I shake my head, still not looking Jennings way. “It’s not a cliché, it’s the truth. I don’t know why I do it, but I do. Even Holli complains that I keep her in the dark.” That’s a lie. I do know why I do it, I just can’t tell him.

  I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish it was as easy as opening my mouth and letting my words and feelings just fall out, but it isn’t.

  Jennings wiggles and moves in his seat, attempting to get a better look at me and I tear my eyes away from the front of the house to look at him.

  Worried and somewhat vexed, he looks like he wants to hug me and shake me silly all at the same time.

  “She is your friend. Friendship is purely genuine. If it’s a good, solid foundation, the friendship will hold firm.”

  “I don’t understand,” I say, getting agitated.

  “Friendship isn’t fake. At least—not the real ones.”

  I don’t question our friendship; I question my place in the friendship because I feel like I get in the way. “Ours is real, but I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

  He rubs the top of his eye in thought and looks to me. “Being in a real, honest friendship, you always have a safe place.”

  What makes him so sure? “Why?”

  “Because being friends with someone doesn’t come with anything extra. One gets nothing out of a bond but companionship and an alliance. Nothing more. Remember that when you doubt yourself. We want you in our lives.”

  We?

  He wants to be in my life? He wants to know me?

  Lord help him.

  I give in. “Okay.”

  We aren’t necessarily fighting, but going back and forth with him is sort of exhausting. He’s too much like me and demands the last word.

  “Okay, what?” Jennings clarifies.

  “Okay, I’ll try harder to be a better friend and open up.”

  “To Holli?”

  I nod my head slowly. “And, to you.”

  Triumphant, he moves his hand behind my neck and brings my head to his lips. Softly, he kisses my forehead, lingering just a bit longer than casual friends would. Not that I’m complaining.

  “Everything is going to be okay, Whit. You’ll see.”

  I nod my head in agreement because I don’t know how he can really know that for sure, but I’m willing to let it go so we can have a good night.

  “So,” I begin. “Can we go inside?” I ask.

  Scratching his head, he gleams. “Not yet. Are you okay?”

  I bite my bottom lip and nod. “I’m okay.”

  Hesitant, Jennings takes my words and lets them settle. “I don’t buy it, but I want you to know I’m always here to lend an ear or shoulder.”

  God, why do I feel like he sees something in me that he needs to save? I don’t want to be that girl.

  I’m lost.

  Whoa. I’ve never actually outright thought that before. I lost my way a long time ago.

  I have no real place in this world.

  I’m a tumbleweed traveling along with the wind and there’s no destination in sight. One by one, my tendrils and roots are being stripped from me and I don’t know how to prevent it. I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know if I can stop my heart from wanting to keep moving. I’d like to just be content with life.

  Is it always going to be so difficult for me?

  “Thanks, Jennings.” I move my hand to his hard, and ugh, muscle-y upper arm. “It’s been a rough day. I’ll get better.”

  Not likely.

  Jesus, Whit. Perk the fuck up.

  He puts his hand on mine and taps it, then rubs. It’s a friendly gesture, and I’m totally looking too much into it, but the contact sends shivers to my body and I quickly remove it.

  Friends, friends, friends. You’re friends, Whitley.

  I look to the house for the hundredth time, still in awe of its beauty. “So, ready to go in there?” I ask, trying to appear light and not at all awkward. Somehow in the few hours I’ve been with Jennings, I’ve managed to have a life-changing epiphany and promised to give him a chance at knowing me. The real me. Do I even know who she is anymore?

  That’s a new can of worms I’m not equipped to open up yet.

  We’ve been sitting out here, in the car, for a good twenty minutes. So, I’m more than ready to see the inside. If it’s anything like the outside, I’ll be begging and pleading to move in by the end of the night.

  Really. I’m not exaggerating.

  I believed my house was nice. I mean—it is. It’s gorgeous and perfect for Holli and me. But this house…whoa. It screams money and—this might sound odd—family. Together-ness. Welcoming. I’m sort of excited just to go in and see what is in store for me when we step through the threshold.

  “Let’s do this, Cab Girl,” he quips.

  Like a blaze, Jennings exits the car and walks to my side, opening the door for me, like a gentleman. Who knew those still existed in L.A.

  Taking my hand in his, he tugs a little, easily pulling me out of the car. His clear blue eyes sparkle as he watches the blush cascade over my face.

  I don’t know why I’m blushing. He only assisted me in getting out of the damn car. It’s not like this is the first time or anything.

  Wait—okay, it is.

  I’m practically a friggin asshole magnet. In a way, it makes sense. I’m sort of a bitch. Nice guys don’t like women like me. I’m too much to handle. Nice guys can’t just ignore my snarky comments. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. Nice guys take great offense in my crude ramblings. They give me that judgmental look, you know the one that says, you’re not pretty enough to make remarks like that. But I couldn’t give two shits about them, so I never found the need to change. Plus, I’d take my bad boy any day.

  Like I said, they are easier.

  Case in point, Lark.

  Why does he keep popping into my head? Stay out of there, dammit! This is a Lark-free zone. Stay behind the yellow tape and we’ll get along fine.

  Jennings still has my hand as he leads me up to the front door. The doorknocker gleams gold in the middle of the deep green door. The closer we get, I notice that it’s not just a regular,
mundane knocker; it’s an elegant bird. With intricate carving it looks life like. You know—if there was such a thing as a golden bird. You get what I’m saying. The loud thump-thump of bang resonates loudly through my ears and I don’t doubt the neighbors heard it, too.

  The doorknob turns ever so slowly and a young, beautiful woman with fiery red hair opens the door. Her eyes move to Jennings first, a broad smile appearing immediately, and then she moves her eyes to me and if it’s possible, her smile grows even wider.

  “Oh my God, you’re Whitley!” she exclaims. Her voice is rich and high and I smile at her welcome.

  “That’s me.” I let go of Jennings’ hand and offer it to her. She swats my hand away and moves in for a hug.

  Well, alright then. I’m down for hugs. I wouldn’t say I’m a hugger, but I—you know—hug and all that shit. I like a good hug.

  “You’re even more beautiful than Jennings described.”

  My eyes flit toward Jennings and he slaps his head with his hand, looking adorably embarrassed.

  “Good God, Mom,” he chides, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Blow my cover, will ya?”

  She releases me from the comfort of her hug, and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “I’m Sophia, by the way,” she offers, clasping her hands in front of her.

  A cricket chirps from somewhere on the porch, and I jump slightly. I hate crickets. Magical fuckers. They can somehow throw their voices. I swear one lives in my room. Every night, just before I’m fully asleep, that asshole of a cricket will start its ceaseless chirping causing me to have my own personal scavenger hunt before bed. It’s taken up residence for almost two months. I should charge him rent for Christ sake.

  “Sophia, it’s nice to meet you,” I offer clumsily. I’d just had an entire tirade in my head, but she’s sweet enough to not say anything.

  She nods her head, smiling. Moving her green eyes to Jennings, she slaps his arm before taking his tall, lean body into her arms giving him a bear hug. He picks her up into the air and a squeak escapes from her mouth.

  “Jennings, you ass.” She wiggles in his arms. “Put me down.”

  He gently sets her on the ground. “Yes, Mom.”

  This time, Sophia decides to bypass his arm and head straight for his head to whack him. “Dammit Jennings, shut up. I’m younger than you.”

  He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket and bounces on his toes. “Oh come on.” He smiles, making my heart flutter. “Don’t act like that. And, to be fair, you’re only two months younger. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  She gives me a wink and her red lips turn upward into a smirk. “Potato, patato.”

  Jennings snorts. “Where’s Bradley?”

  Sophia picks some lint off of her electric blue dress and points over her shoulder with her thumb. “Playing with Addie.” She steps back, beckoning us to follow. “Come on in, guys.”

  Before we go any further, can we discuss the whole, “you’re even more beautiful than Jennings described,” for a minute? He’s talked to her about me? I thought he was just friends with this Bradley guy. I guess it’s not the craziest thing to know that he’s close with Bradley’s wife as well, but to talk to her about me?

  Dammit, why do I care so much?

  I shake my head and fall into step behind her as Jennings places his hand on the small of my back, following behind me.

  Don’t you dare get shivers, Whitley. Don’t do it.

  Too late.

  The soft cream color of the entrance instantly warms my already-warm skin. Damn that Jennings. The space is wide and open, making for the biggest living room in the history of living rooms. My assumptions were right, this house is beyond grand. It’s absolutely the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. Four, count them, four brown leather couches, shaped into an open square sit in front of the TV/bookcase. Thousands of books and trinkets fill the bookshelf and I wonder if they’ve actually read them all or if it’s simply for looks.

  Sitting in the middle of the open square of couches is, who I assume, Bradley. His back is to me, and I think he’s so far into his daddy role to notice our entrance. It’s sort of sweet. Addie giggles and pats his cheek, but her eyes light up when she notices Jennings.

  Be still, my uterus. I clutch my heart watching Jennings jog to the living room to join them.

  Setting Addie on the floor to play with her play set, Bradley stands up to give Jennings a hug.

  “Hey man,” Bradley says, smile evident in his voice. “Missed you, buddy.”

  They let go of each other and Jennings motions me over. I look over to Sophia.

  “Need any help in the kitchen?”

  If the delicious scent wafting through the air is any indication of how amazing a cook she is, she’s probably better off without me. But, I have a feeling Sophia would appreciate the offer, anyway. I’ve only just met her, but everything about her screams friendliness. Her eyes, so kind and pleasant, I’m really hoping I can be her friend. And that’s a crazy thought for me. I don’t do girlfriends.

  Addie giggles, and Sophia’s eyes smile. “No, thank you. Dinner is almost ready. Hang out in here.” She turns, heading toward the kitchen. “Wine?”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  “You got it.”

  “Oy, woman,” Jennings jokes. “Come over here.”

  I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my body. Cavewoman, I am not.

  “Please,” he adds, making me smile.

  That’s better.

  I unfold my arms and walk around the couches. My eyes enlarge when I see Bradley.

  Jennings didn’t tell me exactly who Bradley was. Nope, he decided to keep that little tid-bit to himself. I give Jennings an accusing look, shaking my head in disbelief. I thought Bradley was just a ho-blow-Joe, but I was unbelievably wrong. Standing in front of me, in all of his stocky, handsome glory, is Bradley Hanson. All American football player turned actor. A few years after he blew his knee during a game, he decided to break into acting. It’s worked out pretty well for him, actually. He’s had many valuable roles and won an Oscar for Supporting Actor for his role in Just Stay Away. A groundbreaking film about Nazi Germany and the fight against Hitler. I’ve yet to see it, but Holli went to the premier and said it deserved all of the praise it got. Evidentially, Bradley was brilliant and had a talent for being one badass soldier.

  His chocolate eyes bore into me and a radiant smile breaks across his face, causing mine to do the same. He picks me up into a hug, much like the hug Jennings and Sophia exchanged outside. I wrap my arms around his body, feeling like long lost friends.

  “Whitley Hayes,” he says, muffled by my shoulder. “It’s damn good to finally meet you. This knuckle head,” he laughs. “Won’t shut up about you.”

  Jennings huffs annoyance and I light up like a damn Christmas tree.

  Bradley places me back on my feet and holds me at arms length, evaluating me. Not in a creepy, stalker way, but in a brotherly way. One that makes sure I’m fully intact with my sanity and shirt. I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me.

  Am I drugged? Did Jennings slip me something? Because I’ve never felt so at home in someone else’s house before. I’m officially Alien Whitley.

  “Well,” I laugh, tucking my unruly hair behind my ear. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

  Jennings plops down onto the floor next to Addie and takes her small, pink hand into his and brings it to his mouth, mock biting it with his lips. “Do you hear them?” he coos at her. “Your mom and dad are giving me a bad wrap.”

  Addie gurgles in response and Jennings pouts his lips, nodding his head. “I know, baby girl. They are a bunch of jerks.”

  Bradley taps Jennings on the leg with his tennis shoe and shushes him as he passes to go to the kitchen.

  I let myself fall into the couch and I don’t think I’ll ever get up. It’s one of those that conform to your body and snuggle you so close that it feels like it’s engulfing your entire pe
rson. It’s comfortable and scary. My ass may never be okay with sitting in a normal chair again.

  “Whit,” Jennings grabs my attention.

  “Yeah?”

  “You doing okay over there?” He gives me a smile that tilts my world on axis and knocks it off, all at once. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

  I sit up a little straighter and try to look more awake. I’d be happy to take a little catnap in this thing. Though, I’m sure if I actually did fall asleep, I’d probably put myself into a coma.

  Yes…it’s that comfortable.

  “I’m good. Just—content.”

  Sitting here, watching Jennings on the floor, cooing and making faces at that precious baby, sort of sets my soul at ease.

  His dimple twitches on his cheek and he breathes. “Content is good. I can handle content.”

  Slipping my jacket off, I offer him a smile. “Me too.”

  Dinner was amazing. I don’t know how Sophia made a four-course meal, but the woman managed to serve appetizers, salad, a main course that consisted of steak that literally melted in my mouth, how she did that, I’ll never know, potatoes, asparagus and risotto. Then, the heavenly woman, sent from the gods above, brought out the most divine, yes, divine, lemon cream cake.

  The sounds I made during that particular course were inappropriate and I’m very lucky Addie happily fell asleep in Jennings arms halfway through dinner.

  The conversation was easy and fun between the four of us. Minus the fact that Bradley is a super star, much like Jennings, they both are extremely down-to-earth.

  There were many times during the dinner where the teasing and good-natured mocking turned loud and obnoxious, but my smile wouldn’t leave my face. Seeing Jennings act so real—so very un-bad-boy-like, made my quiet heart beat a little louder in my chest.

  I don’t know how to properly describe it, but seeing their walls down, in front of me…a stranger, is sort of—heartwarming. Eye-opening. Humbling.

  I know the media has a nasty way of making celebrities seem less human, but I never knew the extent, until now. Even with Holli, she was never the villain, never a bar hopping, man-hungry woman. Sure, on one occasion she flashed her vag to the cameras on accident while getting out of the car, and there was a time when she misjudged the cement crack in the sidewalk and fell on her face and the tabloids said she’d been day drinking in the pub we had just had lunch at.

 

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