Shape Of My Heart

by Khardine Gray

  “My face better not be red, Kansas.” He ran his hand over his face.

  His cheeks were bright red and had finger marks, too. He looked like he’d had a run in with wolves. She opened her bag and took out her touch l’eclait concealer.

  “Use this, and next time don’t piss me off.” She tossed it to him and he caught it. He then walked ahead with Coach Simpson while Zelda and Corey lagged behind to talk to her.

  “It seems I was wrong about you,” Zelda commented, her bright green eyes sparkled with interest.

  “What do you mean?” Amy panicked thinking she was still doomed despite her efforts. She was completely aware that she’d just practically attacked Josh and she knew that it was a terrible thing. Her skin buzzed from the anger that hadn’t rescinded.

  “You’re perfect for this job. You know how to handle yourself, and it looks like you know exactly how to deal with him too. I’m totally impressed,” Zelda replied.

  Amy breathed a sigh of relief when she heard that.

  “Me too,” Corey stated, nodding. “We just might get him back for this season.”

  Amy hoped so, too, because this was still only the beginning. It was the first hurdle. She’d only just moved from square one.

  Chapter 9

  Josh was thankful to whatever angel or magical force that had given him the strength, mindset, and comfort to give a good interview.

  He’d sat with the lead players in his team, and while Bob Jacobe, the TV presenter, asked the questions, Josh answered them as if they were nothing to him and mingled like he hadn’t been out of the game and the loop for months.

  He managed to evade questions about his family and even offered a very brief statement about how he felt. When asked how he was feeling about this season, he’d simply said he was hoping it would be better than the last and that it was a very sad time for him. He hoped to get through so that he could focus on the next season wholeheartedly.

  He’d actually looked directly at Amy as he said that, as if he was answering one of her questions in their preparation sessions. She’d sat with Zelda in the studio audience, holding onto the ends of her ponytail and looking at him with that tense edge. She was most likely hoping he’d be able to keep up and not fall asleep again. He supposed that whatever they were paying her must have been worth all the shit she’d had to put up with. Desperation was what he saw in her earlier. Pure, raw desperation, like it was a matter of survival. The other day she’d gone on this tirade about him needing her, but today she looked like she needed him too.

  He couldn’t complain since it was true—he needed her and, admittedly, found comfort in her presence.

  Even he would have filed himself to the back of the shelf as a total lost cause. But she didn’t give up on him. She pushed the limits and did what it took to get the job done, regardless of the cost. He didn’t know what drove her and what she was getting out of it, but whatever it was had gotten him here and saved his ass.

  Last night had been terrible. It really did a number on him and he was feeling weak from it. He’d lost control in the worst way and succumbed to the grief that beckoned him to give up. Thinking rationally was the last thing on his mind.

  He remembered drinking everything he could get his hands on and calling the escort service to send him strippers and escorts. They came and they left. He couldn’t remember the in-between details.

  It really was a miracle that he was here today, and he had to push the trigger for last night out of his mind.

  Clarissa’s birthday.

  He tried not to think about her or his mother while he gave the interview. He had to take them out of his mind.

  The whole day went well and he enjoyed hanging out with the guys. It almost felt like the good old days. The days where he was himself and all he cared about was playing a good game and winning. They made arrangements to meet up next Wednesday. Josh thought he could stick to that.

  He knew Amy had made some arrangements for him to do all that public appearance stuff, but he could fit this in too. Training started in a month and he wanted to get himself ready for that. Part of getting ready for training was bonding with his team. Reconnecting with them. It was one of the many things he liked and appreciated about them. That strong friendship they had made them play better, as if they all shared the same mind, and often times knew each other’s thoughts well enough to make those split-second decisions that everyone followed, which he’d seen win games.

  As the day drew to an end and he realized he would have to go back to his house, depression set in again.

  He followed Amy to her car when he said goodbye to the guys. She walked ahead of him in silence with no acknowledgement whatsoever.

  He squeezed into the little green Volkswagen beside her, cursing the size of the car as he tried to adjust himself. He didn’t like cars like this. They weren’t made for him. The fit was wrong, the interior, everything.

  Josh scowled as his head hit the roof when he tried to lean back and she looked across at him.

  He looked at her, too, and held her gaze. She was mad as hell at him, really mad. It was understandable. He knew it couldn’t have been easy to get him here, and here he was dressed in his suit and here.

  “I’m not going to apologize so don’t look at me like that. You deserved the bitch slap.” She shook her head in dismay, causing her ponytail to bobble across her shoulder blades.

  He’d noticed her use of words had expanded as the days had gone by. Just the other day she chided him for swearing and here she was talking about bitch slaps. Earlier she said she’d had to put up with his crazy shit. Clearly, he wasn’t good for a sweet girl like her.

  “Yes,” he agreed, to her surprise. “And don’t apologize, it wouldn’t suit you.” He gazed deep into those beautiful green eyes of hers, and just like the other day found himself lost within them.

  “Give me back my concealer.” She stretched her dainty hand out to him.

  That thing saved his life. He looked like he’d been in a fight by the time she finished with his face.

  “It’s in my ass somewhere, come and get it.” He smiled at her.

  She narrowed her gaze and looked at him like she could kill him. There was no answer from her, she just turned her head, looked out to the studio exit, and drove through it.

  The anger rippled off her in waves, creating a tense atmosphere that was so thick he was sure he could touch it. He imagined that if this were a cartoon it would literally be a hazy fume of black and red surrounding her.

  He looked at her through the corner of his eyes and took his time to run his eyes over the full length of her body. He really liked what she was wearing today: a black business dress that did a serious job of showing off her very fine assets. Her delicate shoulders were defined in all the right places, but his favorite part was her breasts. Now when he looked he didn’t have to try to remember what they felt like.

  He would have avoided the hard nudge she placed in his side if he hadn’t been so captivated by looking at her.

  “Stop checking me out, you creepy man,” she balked, driving straight through a red light. “Damn it.”

  She really hit hard for a girl, and it was commendable that he could feel it through the solid muscle on his abs.

  “Yes, damn you, Josh. Stop it. I can actually see you. I’m not one of your strippers or groupies. I’m not one of them, so stop it!”

  He infuriated her further by laughing.

  “What’s so damn funny? You are such a pervert.”

  “I am who I am, baby. It’s all that raw Italian blood running through my veins.”

  “I don’t care if pig’s blood runs through you. Stop looking at me like that. Argh, you are so weird.”

  Him? Weird? This was normal. Abnormal was a man who didn’t react in the presence of a beautiful woman. Granted, his sex drive was over the top, but still, he wasn’t weird.

  She turned on the radio and switched it to the classical music channel. “Don’t you dare say anyth
ing about my music. I need calm right now if I’m going to continue to work with you.”

  He wasn’t going to say anything about the music. In fact, it was ironic that she should say that as both he and Clarissa used to listen to classical music to get their calm before a big game and a big performance.

  It was actually Clarissa’s thing. He’d just joined in on it because he agreed it was soothing. This piece that played right now on the radio was one of her favorites.

  It was the “Thais Meditation” by Jules Massenet. It played in their home in San Francisco every day for as long as he could remember. This was a piece he could recall in his dreams and knew by heart, note by note of the powerful, spellbinding violin music.

  He rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes, listening as the music flowed through the car around the space of tension between him and Amy.

  In his mind he saw Clarissa doing her pirouettes across the living room. He remembered when she started learning to dance. She was only five years old. Their mother was hosting a charity event and had gotten the Russian Ballet group to take part. Elena Mancini was always looking at new ideas and ways to raise interest to bring money in to whatever charity she represented. This would be one that would define Clarissa for the rest of her short life.

  Tatiana Vodschova was the star of the show and she captured Clarissa’s heart with one step.

  His sister became obsessed with dancing from that day onwards, and by the time she was ten she was already starring in a number of national shows. Just like him with football, ballet was her life. She was invited to go to Julliard without the need for audition. He didn’t know anyone else that had happened to. Not even Josh with his sports talent had had such an honor from scouts or anyone like that. He’d always had to do something to prove himself. When she finished at Julliard the number of dance companies that competed for her talent was astounding.

  She was so happy, so very happy and beautiful in every way. And, because of him, she was no longer alive.

  The cold, dead image of her face filled his mind and his heart broke all over again. All that life, talent, and beauty gone. Just like that.

  “Josh, wake up.” Amy was shaking his shoulder. They were back at his house and had parked in the driveway. He didn’t even realize that he’d fallen asleep. “Are you okay?” Concern softened her features, contrasting her prior anger.

  A tear ran down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, startled by its emergence. Shit, he was crying in front of her. He turned away and got out of the car.

  Hilda and another lady were waiting on the porch. They attempted to speak to him but he just stepped straight past.

  He needed a drink, and he wanted to be alone.

  Amy waited for a few seconds in the car before getting out. Those were tears she just saw. Right? She was sure those were tears she saw running down Josh’s cheek.

  Resting her hand on the steering wheel, she took a moment to think. As she did, shame gripped at her insides.

  Desperation could make you do all sorts of things. Even someone like her, who was normally compassionate.

  Josh seriously got on her nerves; he irked her to no end. He was creepy, a complete pervert who she’d allowed herself to fall prey to, and a first-class jerk.

  But, he was still a person. And money made her behave the way she did today. Money made her lose her mind because she knew he had the power to give her what she wanted to save her mother.

  Before she left the studio Zelda told her that the money was already deposited in her account. Twenty thousand dollars. The rest would follow in a few months as promised.

  It sounded wonderful and paved the way for her mother’s surgery. Now the doctors could arrange a plan with the deposit and she could pay the balance when she got the rest of the money.

  It was wonderful. So why did she feel so bad?

  “Hey chica, you okay?” Gabriella asked, coming up to the car. Amy got out and joined her and Hilda. They’d messaged earlier about meeting for dinner.

  “I’m…okay.” She supposed she should be, considering she’d just jumped over the first hurdle and gotten the money.

  “How’d it go? He just walked by looking like hell.” Hilda looked concerned.

  Amy shook her head. “We did it, but I don’t think it was the right thing.”

  It wasn’t. Truth be told, he wasn’t ready for any of this and he was doing it because he didn’t want to be cut from the team.

  “Do you want to cancel tonight and spend the time with him?” Gabriella asked.

  “I’m the last person he’ll want to spend time with.” It was official now that they both couldn’t stand each other. “I’m just gonna go see how he is, though. I’ll be right back.”

  They nodded, understanding.

  She found him in the kitchen. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves to his shirt. The top buttons lay open, exposing the rigid muscle that lay there.

  “Shift’s over, Kansas, what are you doing here?” He poured vodka into a glass.

  “You’re going to drink again? Even after what happened today?”

  “It’s Friday, time for booze and bitches.”

  She should go, run away, but something within her wanted to reach out to him to see if he was okay.

  “It doesn’t have to be. We could talk about today.”

  “Do I look like the talking kind of guy to you?” He glowered at her. “Like I said, shift’s over. You’re done for the day, now run along with your little friends.” He tossed his head back and poured the drink down his throat in one gulp. When he saw she wasn’t moving he walked over to her and marooned her between the fridge and the wall. “Unless, Kansas, if you and your little friends want to join me upstairs. There’s plenty room up there for everyone. Or there could just be me and you. Like I said, shift’s over. You aren’t at work anymore. Imagine the fun.”

  He wasn’t drunk yet; this was him talking. The real him. It was awfully close to the drunk side of him that weakened her the other day, but she could tell the difference.

  Amy rested her head against the wall as he gazed down at her. She wasn’t sure what to think right now other than he was just trying to get rid of her by freaking her out but hoping at the same time she’d agree.

  “Is that what you want? Me?” She had no intention of doing anything with him, but once again she was making a stand.

  His eyes did, however, flicker with interest. “Yes, Kansas, I want you.”

  Even she had to admit that there was something tempting and alluring in hearing him say that to her.

  “And what makes you want me, Josh?” She continued to stare as he looked her over with appreciation.

  “Everything, baby. I want to strip you down and feast on every single part of you.” His eyes turned a darker shade and he lifted the end of her ponytail. “Imagine our naked bodies pressed against each other. I want to see the pleasure on your face as we fu—”

  “Shhh, language.” She pressed her fingers to his lips. He lingered on the edge of her fingertips and kissed it. “See, that’s just the thing. For a start…” She moved away from the wall and moved closer to him. He moved, too, so that their faces were just inches apart.

  “For a start what, baby?”

  “For a start, if you were mine, I wouldn’t share you with anybody. And…we would make love. It would be love, and not some meaningless act of attraction to pass the time.”

  The desire on his face receded, and that playfulness shrank away. Instead she saw the effect her words had on him. He searched her eyes and moved back so she could step away from the wall.

  Before she left she turned back to face him and observed the contemplative look on his face. She’d bet no one had ever said anything like what she said to him before. She’d bet these women just did what he told them and fell down and worshiped him.

  Amy had never been like that, and she wouldn’t change. He fixed his gaze on hers once more and shifted his weight from one le
g to the next.

  “Don’t drink too much, Josh. Please don’t. You’re stronger than you think.”

  She knew even before she left that he wouldn’t listen, and since she wouldn’t see him till Monday he’d most likely spend the weekend undoing all the work and progress they’d made this week.

  She’d hoped that it wouldn’t come to this, and that maybe he could have snapped out of the drinking, but it hadn’t happened. If they were going to get through this time together, and work together, he needed to stop drinking so much. It would ruin him, it was ruining him and he would lose everything.

  She thought that maybe she would keep tabs on him this week and try to help him with that, too.

  Josh couldn’t get the image of Amy out of his head.

  “…if you were mine I wouldn’t share you with anybody. And…we would make love.”

  How the hell was he supposed to forget that?

  Make love? Did that even exist? Love. What a myth. It didn’t stop him from wanting her, though, or the desire that coursed throughout him.

  He finished the bottle of vodka five minutes after she left and drank the rest of the rum. His mind left him after that and he woke up with Allegra pressed up against him, wrapped within the tangle of the cream satin bed sheets. His head was rested between her naked breasts, his arms around her waist.

  It was just her, him and her, and he couldn’t remember when she’d gotten there.

  It was dark outside, so it could have been very early in the morning.

  She stirred when he moved and rolled onto her side but didn’t wake up.

  He moved away from her and sat up as the thoughts swirled around in his mind. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but knew that all of this had to stop at some point. It had to stop, but he didn’t have the strength to do it by himself.

  Every time he thought he could face the situation something happened and he lost any ounce of strength he might have gathered.

  As he looked at Allegra’s perfect body he knew that he didn’t want her. He actually didn’t want any of this but it had become a way of life. A habit.