Finding Us (True Love) (Volume 2)

by Harper Bentley

  I frowned as I bent and picked one up, looking at the picture on the cover. Great. It was from the last time when Alessandra had left my apartment, caught right when she’d kissed me on the cheek, which from the angle it was taken looked like we were in a heated lip lock. Jag Jensen, star pitcher for the Dodgers, and Alessandra Alvarez, hottest underwear model in the business, taking it to new levels of HOT! the headline read. Fuck.

  “This isn’t what it looks like, El. She came by the condo the other day and actually gave me some advice on how to get you back,” I tried explaining when I looked at her.

  She laughed at me then. “Yeah, I can totally see that happening.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stopped with the fake laughing. “You were fucking her all along. All those times you said you were filming,” she did air quotes when she said filming, “you were out fucking her! How could I have been so stupid?” Sparks flew out from her eyes at me. Damn.

  “Are you kidding me? Alessandra—” I began when she pretty much growled at me. Yeah. She growled. At me. Jesus.

  “Swear to God, Jag, I had to put up with her and all the bullshit that came with that bitch when I was in LA. I do not have to hear it now. So don’t you dare even think of saying that whore’s name in my apartment again or I will kick your ass out of here once and for all! Not that I’m not getting ready to do it anyway!”

  Good God. I’d only seen her this angry one other time before, during the fight we’d had the night before she’d left me in LA to come home for good. But this. This was something new. This was scary-as-hell angry. I took a step toward her and she held up a hand at me.

  “Oh, no you don’t! You keep your distance!” she yelled.

  She took a step back as I again took another one toward her. As I kept advancing, I saw her eyes looking wildly from side to side as she mentally charted out her escape route. When she turned to run from me, I caught her by the arm, spinning her to face me and pushed her against the wall, leaning down to get right in her face.

  “I want you to listen to me, and listen good, El. There’s not a goddamned thing going on between Ales—that cunt and me. You hear me?” I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a little trying to get her to see things clearly. “Do you get it? Huh? Do you?” We were so close, our noses were almost touching. But I’d had enough. Maybe I didn’t get where she was coming from, but she didn’t get the entire picture. “There’s nothing going on! It’s you! It’s always been you! Always!”

  At that point, I was done and leaned in, crushing my mouth against hers, kissing her hard. She pushed at my chest trying to get me to back away, but I wasn’t having any of it and kept right on kissing the hell out of her. When her hands slid from my chest up to wrap around my neck, I knew I had her. God. Finally. The kiss went on for endless seconds before I felt her stiffen then her hands dropped to their original position and she shoved me back.

  I stepped back to see that she was breathing just as hard as I was, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks pink with color and her green eyes glittering with what I hoped was lust. I took another step toward her and she slapped me. Hard. Well, fuck. Guess that hadn’t been lust that I’d seen after all.

  “You need to leave. Now!” she hissed.

  “I’m not,” I announced.

  “You are!”

  “No,” I said as I stepped to her again. Her hand came up and she slapped me again, but I didn’t care. She was mad and things had looked pretty suspicious I guessed, so I’d let her have this. But when her hand came up again, I grabbed it by the wrist, pinning it against the wall over her head. She lifted her other one, and I did the same to it.

  “Let me go!” she screamed and then the tears came.

  I knew it pissed her off to be held down, but I wasn’t letting this shit go on any longer. I was tired of her not believing me, tired of all the bullshit coming between us. Tired of being without her.

  “No,” I repeated as she struggled to get away, trying to wrench her arms from my grasp. “El, I need you to listen to me.”

  “Let go!” she cried, angry as hell that I wouldn’t let her loose.

  “You need to hear me, baby.”

  And that really made her mad. “I’m not your baby!” she shrieked.

  Jesus Christ. What the fuck did those magazines have written in them?

  “Listen to me!” I roared, getting right in her face. When she stilled some, I continued. “I’ve never been unfaithful to you. Ever. Not even in my goddamned mind. Nothing has ever happened with her and me. And it never will. You’re all I want. You’re the only one.” She glared back at me then turned her head to the side. “The only one,” I said quietly.

  The tears were streaming down her face as she shook her head.

  “El,” I said, trying to get her to turn my way.

  She closed her eyes and said, “I know what I saw.”

  And my heart dropped. Damn. Those magazines had really done a number on her.

  “Nothing happened,” I said gently, being completely honest.

  It was then that she turned her head to me, her eyes finally meeting mine, her ire rising once again. “I know what I saw. That night on TV, I saw how you were looking at her. I saw it,” she seethed. “Smiling at her while she told that announcer that you only had eyes for her. Telling everyone how perfect you look together. And you just stood there and didn’t say one fucking word, Jag. Not one word!” She drew in a shaky breath before she went on. “But the part that really got me, that really cut me to my very soul,” she let out an unsteady sob before going on, “was watching you nodding at her when she said you’d make beautiful babies.” She made a retching sound then and I let her wrists go. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick,” she said, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she ran to her bathroom, slamming the door closed and I heard her losing whatever she’d had in her stomach.

  I sat down on the couch stunned, propping my elbows on my knees once again, staring at the floor.

  I think it’d be safe to say that I finally “got it.”

  Chapter 7

  “I’ll bet you a back massage and a root beer float that you can’t catch me!” El squealed as she took off running.

  I laughed then jogged after her on the beach, laughing even harder when she turned and thumbed her nose at me. Then I stopped running for a second as my breath caught in my throat. My God, she was gorgeous, her auburn hair whipping in the wind around her face, her smile so perfect, white teeth gleaming in the sun.

  She was in her bikini, and I was enjoying watching the way her breasts bounced when she moved and how good her ass looked as she ran in front of me. Loving how the muscles in her flat stomach flexed when she’d turn and run backward, taunting me to catch her. Hell, I was no fool. Like I’d give into her dare and catch her… yet. Why would I put an end to this spectacular, sexy show she was putting on?

  That particular scene from LA was one that popped into my head as I sat staring at the floor in El’s living room in Chicago. It’d been a time before any of the craziness that was now between us had happened. A happy time. A time when we’d been so in love that we couldn’t wait to be together, whether we’d been on the beach goofing around or just quietly reading on opposite ends of the couch, our legs stretched out and crossed over each other’s, or maybe our bare feet tangled together, not speaking a word to each other. God, how I longed for us to return to being that way again.

  I felt worse than I had in my entire life. I mean, here I sat in my girl’s living room listening to her being sick in the bathroom because of how badly I’d hurt her, and I hadn’t even known it until she had to lay it all out in front of me, which I knew had to have hurt her even more, but now I finally understood.

  I was dense. I was a complete moron. She was right.

  Another scene flashed in my head as I waited for her to come out only to tell me we were completely over. It was when she’d first moved into my condo, and I’d woken one night to find she wasn’t in bed. I’d gotten
up and gone looking for her, finding her out on the patio crying.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” I’d asked, going to her, picking her up out of the chaise then lying down on it myself with her on me, turning her to where her head lay against my chest, my arms wrapped around her tightly.

  She’d sniffed a couple times then pulled back to look at me. I’d wiped her tears with my thumbs and kissed her softly before she told me what was on her mind.

  “It’s just that… things are so good… I was so scared that they wouldn’t be… but they are, Jag… they’re so good here with us.”

  I’d kissed her again then carried her inside to our bedroom and we’d made love slowly, sweetly, each touch, each kiss, between us letting the other know the depth of our feelings we had for each other. It’d been beautiful, almost magical. And it’d been something I’d vowed I’d never forget. That night I’d promised myself that I’d make sure for the rest of our lives to treat her as if she was the most precious thing in the world to me because she was, and I wanted her to know it always.

  And I’d thrown that all away. Tossed it aside without thinking.

  And I had to laugh at myself now for thinking that a few dozen flowers, a piece of jewelry, a jumble of words I’d put onto paper would make her feel that way again.

  Yeah. Again, I think it was fairly clear that I got it.

  After El had come out of the bathroom, I’d asked if she was okay, and upon hearing her say she was, I kissed her forehead and left. I didn’t want to upset her any more than what I already had.

  I ended up back at Tyler Callihan’s and crashed in his guest room. Well, after he and I had sat up talking. I’d told him what’d happened with El and me and he’d told me about his “one that got away,” which totally scared the shit out of me because I didn’t want to think of El in that way. She was my “one that I was giving a break for now until I got my shit together and could prove to her that I’d never fuck things up again as long as I lived and then we’d live a long and amazing life together being happier than ever.”

  The next morning I stopped and picked up a few items I needed for that evening then went back to Mom and Dad’s and hung out with Dad in his recording studio he’d built into the house when I was little. Since he’d played in a pretty popular rock band in the 70s, he’d stayed connected to music, even writing and recording jingles for advertisements that actually broadcast on TV and the radio. He still hooked up with established and up-and-coming artists to help with lyrics and sometimes even wrote music for them.

  So there we sat in his sanctuary, both of us with guitars, jamming out to a little Led Zeppelin, some Van Halen, several Jimi Hendix riffs and a bit of Pearl Jam. We played “Guess That Riff” for a bit until I stumped him with Silverchair’s “Israel’s Son.” Then we shredded like crazy for a while more which was fucking awesome. When he challenged me to an “Eruption” duel, I was in… and then I was out, watching in awe as his fingers moved over the strings. The old man still had it.

  By the time we finished, we’d been in there for almost four hours. And I’d loved every minute of it. I’d really missed my parents.

  “My word, you two,” Mom said to us from where she sat on the sofa doing a crossword puzzle. “You’ve been going at it forever. Would you like me to make you some lunch?”

  “Yes, please, honey,” Dad answered as he walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek when she stood up.

  I followed both of them into the kitchen. “It was awesome, Mom. I kicked Dad’s ass with a few riffs, though.” I chuckled knowing that’d piss him off.

  “Ha! You’re good, son, but you have nothing on your old man.”

  “I know, I know. You know I think you’re the best,” I honestly told him and he ruffled my hair like I was a five year old.

  “Jack Love called when you were playing,” Mom said as she put a plate of lasagna in the microwave.

  El’s dad had called. He probably wanted to know why I was in town giving his daughter shit.

  “Yeah? What’d he want?” asked Dad who was browsing through the newspaper.

  “Oh, he wanted help with his old Mustang. Said he,” she thought for a second trying to remember, “oh, said he needs help with the choke settings on the carburetor. Yeah, I think that was it.” She took the plate out of the microwave and put the other in, punching buttons and starting it.

  “I’ll call him here in a few minutes. He’s always having trouble with that Holley. Jag? You wanna come with me?”

  “Sure. Might as well.”

  We ate then walked down the block to the Love’s house. I kept an eye out for El’s Jetta, but saw she wasn’t there. There was a pickup truck parked on the street, but I didn’t know whose it was. We walked around back to the detached garage where Mr. Love worked on his cars.

  “Hey, Jack. Still having problems?”

  Mr. Love stood up from under the hood where he’d been working on the engine. “Well, hey there, Jag.” He wiped his hands on a rag then held one out to shake mine. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, Mr. Love. How’re you?”

  “Good, good. Guess the season didn’t turn out the way you wanted, huh?” he said with a frown.

  “No. Would’ve been nice if we were still playing. But what’re ya gonna do?”

  “How about win?” he replied with a chuckle which made me snort.

  “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan,” I agreed.

  “So, let’s take a look here,” Dad said and bent to look at the carburetor.

  We were checking things out when I heard from behind me, “What the fuck are you doing here?” I turned to see El’s brother, Robbie, walking toward the shop. Fuck.

  Both dads straightened looking to see what was going on.

  Robbie kept walking toward me and got right up in my face. “I thought I told you to stay away from my sister.” He pushed on my shoulders making me take a step back. Now, I didn’t want to get into it with El’s brother, but I sure as shit wasn’t going to back down. If he took it there, I wasn’t just going to take it lying down.

  “Robbie! What’s going on here?” Mr. Love asked as he came over and got between us.

  “This asshole’s the reason El’s been so upset over the past month, fucking around with that sleazy underwear model,” Robbie growled.

  “Son, you need to back up,” Mr. Love said.

  “You gonna fucking leave her alone?” Robbie shouted, pointing at me over his dad’s shoulder.

  Mr. Love pushed him in the chest, moving him toward the house as Robbie glared at me the entire time before he turned to walk inside.

  Great.

  “What was that all about?” my dad asked.

  I told him about Robbie’s calling me the night before El left.

  “And he’s still going on about it?” He thought for a second. “Guess you’d be the same if it were your sister, huh?” he asked.

  I had to agree. I mean, I understood where Robbie was coming from. Of course, I’d do the same damned thing if it was Starr. I just wished he’d give me a chance to explain some things.

  Mr. Love came out of the house and back to the garage. “I’m really sorry about that, Jag. I don’t know why he’s still holding on to all of that. Far as I’m concerned, this is between you and Ellen. You have any more problems with him, you let me know.”

  I nodded, knowing I’d never do that, but agreed just to keep the peace. I didn’t blame Robbie for being angry. Like I said, I’d have done the same, but, again, it seemed as if he’d had it out for me from the start, and I was now the dumbass who’d given him reason for feeling that way.

  We worked on the car until we got it adjusted, and it was fairly late when Dad and I walked back to the house where Mom had made us dinner. We ate and I made my plans for the evening: Go to El’s.

  I’d talked to Ross earlier (he’d agreed that he and Rebecca would stay at his apartment again but that I owed him a shit ton of beer for it) and he’d said El was working until ten, so a
fter dinner I hightailed it to her place and set my plan into motion. I had about thirty minutes to get it done, so I didn’t waste any time.

  I went inside and put the root beer float I’d picked up in the refrigerator with a note in front of it telling her to take it then go look in the bathroom. In the bathroom, I arranged and lit candles all around then ran a hot bath with her favorite bubble bath. I’d bought her a plush robe, so I placed it over a chair I’d brought in along with placing an iPod I’d loaded with all her favorite songs and a few of my own on the seat of it. Yeah, I’d been busy. When the tub was full, I turned off the water, inspected everything, then before leaving, left a note on the door for her that said:

  El,

  I know you’re tired after a long day. I brought you some things to help you relax. Look in the

  fridge first.

  Forever and a day,

  Jag

  I hoped this would at least earn me a point or two with her and let her know that I was thinking of her.

  Or she’d end up hating me even more for breaking into her apartment for the second night in a row.

  Chapter 8

  “Dude, I think you nailed it last night,” Ross said over coffee the next morning.

  I’d called him early to meet me at Starbucks (no, not that Starbucks) because I wanted to get a feel for how El was taking things.

  “Yeah? Think I’m getting through to her?” I asked, hopeful.

  “Well, compared to the night before, this one was aces.”

  “Hell, a root canal would’ve been aces compared to that night,” I mumbled.

  “No shit,” he agreed.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done to help me out, man. Couldn’t have still been in the doghouse without you,” I said laughing.

  “Any time, bro,” he said back, laughing along with me.

  “But, hey, wanted to throw this out there if you’re interested. You’re majoring in sports management, so when you’re ready, I’ll be needing a new agent if you’re interested.”