Finding Trust (Centre Games)

by Natalie Gayle

  Rihanna must have sent her a pained look because Jazz grabbed her hand and literally dragged her from behind the table. She noticed Ben glanced to Mitch, obviously looking for a lead on what to do. Mitch just shrugged his shoulders in a “just go with the flow” gesture.

  The four of them danced around, close together on the edge of the floor through three hip dance tunes. They were just having fun, groovin’ to the music and escaping for a few minutes. Nothing more. The guys didn’t move too badly for a bunch of medicos.

  The music changed to a slow song that Rihanna didn’t immediately recognise. She turned to head back to the table but found her path cut off by Ben. He was pulling her into his arms, pushing his body close. She immediately stiffened.

  It felt wrong—all wrong.

  He drew her closer still and breathed in her ear. “Relax, Rihanna, I just want to hold you close. You know you feel it, too.” And then it all happened at once. He moved his hips in close to her thighs and she felt the telltale bulge of his arousal and right then she realised that the song was a Steel one. She could hear Brayden’s unmistakable sound on the guitar and Jace’s haunting voice.

  Errrrrrrrrrrrr, it was wrong!!! All wrong.

  She shouldn’t be here in this guy’s arms. Nor did she want to be.

  She froze and pulled back from him. “I have a boyfriend,” she stammered before turning and heading to the table, no doubt leaving him gaping after her on the dance floor.

  Without even looking back to the dance floor, she grabbed her purse and headed to the door. She had to get out of here. Her skin was crawling. She needed to wash off Ben’s hold. What had happened was probably normal and something similar had happened to her a dozen times before but this time—it just felt so wrong.

  That was before. This was now.

  Then she recalled what she’d said. Did she really have a boyfriend?

  She wasn’t the same person anymore.

  He wasn’t Brayden.

  She had more thinking to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  She’d woken late and headed into the mall with Rory to give him a hand with some errands. Jazz had said she had to head off and take care of a few things at home. Rory was great fun. Friendly, easy to be with, and he made no demands on her. She could relax and just be herself. They’d been laughing and joking for the last couple of hours while they ticked off the things they needed to do.

  They were heading back home when he turned the conversation a bit more serious.

  “I hear you had a bit of a speedy exit from the club last night.”

  Rihanna glanced at him from the corner of her eye but kept looking straight ahead. “Ah, yeah.” She didn’t know why but she felt the need to explain. “We’d just been dancing as a group. Jazz loves to dance, in case you don’t know, and then this guy that she’d invited dragged me close for a slow dance.” A shudder went through her at the thought. “It just felt wrong and then he made it pretty clear he had more on his mind.”

  He didn’t say anything, just nodded and letting her go on.

  “I bolted out of there, which was probably a gross overreaction. I mean, the guy didn’t know about Brayden and I, but I just had to get away from him.”

  “Yeah, Jazz said you’d reacted a bit over the top. So I guess this means you feel something for the big lug.” Rory smirked, keeping it serious but light at the same time.

  She turned and looked at him. “Rory, I feel lots of things for him. That’s the whole problem. I feel too much and I can’t sort out what’s real. What’s fantasy and what’s not. I don’t have any idea how to get to the other side on this one. And it terrifies me. What if it’s all just something fleeting for him?”

  He glanced quickly at her before focusing on the road again. “Well, if it’s any help, Brayden was clear from the beginning. First night we arrived, he laid it all out for us. You were it for him. Quade nearly had a conniption but that’s by the by, and he’s pretty moody, as you’ve learnt.”

  Rihanna nervously giggled at his description of Quade.

  “Fact is, he knew from the beginning. He also knew he couldn’t tell you our secret. We discussed that, too. And not being able to tell you shredded him. I’m surprised he managed to hold out as long as he did. Then after the conversation with the boss.” Rory shook his head. “Shit, him and I took a walk straight after, and I’ve never seen him so pissed in all the time I’ve known him.”

  He paused before going on. “One thing I know about Brayden is that once he decides something, there’s no going back. And he’s decided you’re the one for him. How you play that is totally up to you. I don’t know you all that well, Rihanna, but I know you’re not a cruel or hurtful person. So if you don’t or can’t feel the same about him—let him go. He’s the best friend a guy could ever want and I don’t want to see him hurting any more than he already is.”

  Rihanna could feel her throat constricting. She knew tears were threatening.

  “What am I going to do, Rory?”

  He turned and pinned her with a long look before returning his eyes to the road again.

  “Do you love him?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, more than anything.” It was true. She did but that just made it harder.

  Rory seemed to relax then. He turned and shot her his best playful puppy smile. “Relax, sweet. If you love him, then everything will be fine.”

  She sat there a bit dumbstruck. How could he be so certain? What could they all see that she couldn’t?

  It was time to talk to Jazz.

  ***

  She easily found Jazz out on the veranda, enjoying a glass of wine and flicking through a fashion magazine. The sun was starting to sink low in the west over the mountains and the late afternoon was taking on that softer glow that was so pretty.

  Before joining Jazz on the veranda, she did a quick detour through the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of pineapple juice. Rory had somehow discovered she loved the stuff and had made it his mission in life to make sure there was always plenty on hand. In fact, he’d picked up most of the household chores. Grocery shopping, cooking, and he didn’t even seem to mind running the vacuum over. He’d make some lucky woman a great husband one day.

  Quade was on the mend and Rory was out picking him up from the hospital. They’d decided he should hang here with the rest of them for a few weeks until he regained his strength. Rory and Jazz had been visiting him twice daily. Rihanna had gone to see him for the first time yesterday.

  He assured everyone he was fine but he still looked very pale under his deep tan. Rory had assured her he was on the mend because he and Jazz had resumed trading barbs. It was actually hilarious to watch. They apparently had no idea of the show they put on for everyone.

  Rihanna walked out and plopped herself in the chair across from Jazz. Like all Brayden’s furniture, these chairs were big and comfy and invited you to sit for a while.

  Jazz looked up from her magazine. “Hey, Rih, what’s happening?”

  “Nothing much, just thought I’d come chat to you.”

  Jazz nodded nonchalantly but she didn’t fool Rihanna for a second. Jazz knew that she had decided it was time to talk and she was just waiting to pounce.

  “Okay, have at me.”

  “What on earth do you mean?” Jazz asked, full of innocence.

  “Spare me the little Miss Innocent act, Jazz. You know I’m here to spill my guts and you’re going to tell me how to sort my shit out.”

  Jazz clapped her hands with glee, playing the part to the hilt. “Ah, the fun part of the program at last. I was wondering how long you were going to torture me.”

  “Ha ha, very funny.”

  “I try, I really do.” Jazz swept her long hair up onto the top of her head and twisted it into a messy bun, and then secured it with a band from her wrist. “Right, let’s get down to business. What seems to be the problem?”

  “What, apart from the obvious one?”

  “No, let’s start wi
th the obvious one. That’ll probably take all night.” She looked at her watch as if to indicate the clock starts now.

  “Ah, so you’re going to bill me for this one?”

  Jazz brought her index finger to her lips and looked skyward as if deep in decision. “Mmmm, haven’t decided. Depends on how much fun I have at your expense.”

  Rihanna just shook her head and decided to launch right in. “I’m trying to decide what to do.”

  Jazz waited a second or two for Rihanna to go on but she didn’t. “Okay, can you be a bit more specific? What to do is pretty broad.”

  “Well, you know. What to do about Brayden, the baby, Tom’s offer, the fact that I’m homeless. My life’s a complete mess.”

  Jazz nodded a little in agreement, but looked far from convinced. “Okay, let’s break it down a bit. These things are all interlinked but maybe looking at them individually first will help.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “So let’s start with the baby. I think this one’s more cut and dried.” Jazz looked at her with that piercing stare that was the equivalent of having a spotlight shone on you. “So are you going to keep it?”

  Rihanna blinked, as if trying to comprehend what Jazz had just said. Before she could respond, Jazz asked her again. “It’s an easy enough question. Are you going to keep the baby?”

  “Yes. And I can’t believe you asked me that. I would have thought you knew me better. You know I’ve always wanted a family someday. “

  “Mmmm, I knew that but I just wanted to check that you hadn’t changed your mind. I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice but you’re not exactly going to have a ‘normal’ child. Maybe that was an influencing factor?”

  “Are you suggesting that you’d think I’d abort this baby because it was going to be different than other children?” Rihanna snapped. She was pissed that Jazz could even think this. What sort of person did she think she was? A child was a child, regardless of what traits, characteristics, abilities, or needs they came into the world with or picked up along the way.

  Yes, that was right. So where had her head been at yesterday? It surprised her so much, how strong her need to defend their child was.

  “No but I wanted to make sure you understood what having a child that was different would mean. Besides, I’d have been mighty pissed if I wasn’t going to meet my future niece or nephew. It’s going to be great fun having a little tacker around. I get to play fairy godmother slash aunty and to spoil them rotten then hand them back. What could be better?”

  Rihanna looked away and then back to Jazz. “It’s really hard. I never expected to end up pregnant like this. Sure, I always thought I’d have kids someday but this was never how I expected it to happen. I always thought the unmarried mother thing was for irresponsible people. As you know, that’s far from the normal me.” Rihanna scrubbed her hands over her face. “Fuck, this is so not me.”

  Jazz’s mood immediately sobered. “Have you given any thought to why this has happened the way it has?”

  Rihanna cast her a sideways glance. “Not really. What are you getting at, Jazz?” Rihanna could feel one of those “light bulb” moments that Jazz was famous for coming on.

  Jazz took a sip of wine, drawing out the agony. “Well, it strikes me that perhaps at least subconsciously you were wanting to tie yourself to him. “

  Rihanna thought on that for a few seconds. “I’m still not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “I think you had unprotected sex because there was some part of you that recognised Brayden is the one and wanted to ensure your head didn’t overrule your heart.”

  “God, you make me sound like one of those bitches that trap men into marriage by getting pregnant.”

  “Is that what you are?”

  “Noooo,” Rihanna snapped, horrified.

  “Of course you’re not, sweetie,” Jazz soothed. “What I think happened is your heart finally recognised its other half and did something that your head would normally consider rash and irresponsible in order to ensure that you made the right decision and chose happiness rather than the solitary existence you’ve been perfecting for the last few years.”

  Jazz let Rihanna digest it all without offering further comment.

  “Just my opinion. The Rihanna I knew prior to two weeks ago would never dream of engaging in unprotected sex. Too responsible. Too measured. Too suppressed.”

  “Now you think I’m suppressed?” Rihanna’s eyes widened like saucers. Jazz thought she was suppressed?

  “I think you are in many ways. You’ve kept your feelings under such control and have hidden behind responsibility; you’ve never learned to enjoy life or a relationship with a man.”

  Rihanna felt numb. Her mined raced with Jazz’s accusations. She knew deep down Jazz was right. But this was the first time it had ever been put to her so blatantly. It was all out on the table for discussion. She’d asked for this from Jazz and she knew she had no choice but to see it through. It was like ripping a bandage off ever so slowly.

  Jazz was patiently waiting for her to process this.

  Finally, Rihanna looked up from her focus on the pineapple juice. “I think you’re right. I’ve buried myself so deep so I wouldn’t ever risk anything.”

  Jazz merely nodded in agreement. “I know I’m right. I’ve been waiting for the day this would happen. Nobody could be as controlled as you forever.”

  “I’m still terrified, Jazz. I’ve never been this scared in my life. What am I doing? I’m going to be an unmarried mother.” Rihanna felt the fear rising up, trying to choke her.

  Jazz moved to reassure her. “Well, you might not be married but I think it’s a very safe bet that Brayden will be with you every step of the way. That guy is seriously off the market and very much yours.”

  “You really think so? He told me I was his everything the other day, and that he loved me and the baby, and he wanted to make a go of us, and I really wanted to believe him but fairy tales only happen in movies.” She was rambling but it all just seemed to spew from her in an uncontrollable rush.

  Jazz snorted. “Well, there you go. Rih, true love happens. You’ve been lucky enough to find the other half of your soul. That’s something that shouldn’t be squandered. What else did he tell you?”

  Rihanna thought a moment—recalled all his beautiful, heartfelt words. She could feel the tears welling up just at the memory of it.

  “He said he was giving all of himself to me, and he was trusting me not to hurt him.” She looked away from Jazz, taking in everything around her. The house, the gardens, the furniture: it was all Brayden. She was swimming in everything him—and it felt right. It felt like home.

  “He said I need to trust myself to reach out and take what he was offering. To meet him halfway, so that we can create something bigger. Better.”

  Jazz felt a tear delicately roll down her cheek. She’d tried, she’d really tried not to let them fall.

  “Oh honey, that’s so beautiful. You lucky thing and he’s a romantic, too. I should have known—the lyrics he writes can be quite heartfelt.” Jazz laughed.

  Jazz pushed back from the table and went inside briefly to grab a box of tissues and refills for both their drinks.

  “You don’t think I’m rushing into this?” Rihanna asked between wiping away the tears.

  Jazz thought for a moment. “Probably, but that doesn’t make it wrong. No two relationships are the same and it’s important to remember that there are no rules when it comes to relationships between a man and a woman. It’s up to you two to make your own based on your own needs, wants, and what works for you. The most important thing is you need to be honest with each other. I think he’s laid his cards on the table from what you’ve told me.”

  Jazz reached over and squeezed her hand. “The question is can you return the favour?”

  “I don’t know, Jazz. I hope so.” She really did.

  Rihanna took a big sip of pineapple juice. Her throat was tight
and the cool liquid forced her throat to open and made it feel better. The fear was more controlled. Still there, but not threatening to eat her from the inside out.

  “So what are we going to do about the job offers from Tom?” Jazz asked her.

  “Do you think he’s really serious?”

  “Well, the contract seemed to be real enough. Not sure I can work with him all the time, though. There’s no doubt him and I will clash big time.” Jazz laughed at the thought of working with Tom.

  “Jazz, you clash with everyone. Look at you and Quade. The guy is just recovering from gunshot wounds and you two are bickering like I don’t know what.” Rihanna shook her head just thinking about them.

  Jazz snorted. “Ha, it’s good for him. Takes his mind off the pain and alleviates the boredom of lying in a hospital bed. In fact, I’m sure he spends his days thinking up shit to annoy me with.”

  “Only you could think that, Jazz.” Rihanna smirked.

  “So getting back on track, what are your thoughts on the job?”

  “I don’t know, Jazz. I need to have a chat with Dad. I can’t just go off taking another job when I already have big responsibilities with Dad’s practice.”

  Jazz nodded in agreement. “What time’s he coming over for dinner?”

  “He said he’d be here after about seven.” Her father had called earlier and invited himself for dinner. Said he wanted to check up on his girls.

  “I’ll make sure we give you guys an opportunity to talk.”

  “I’m not sure I’m very happy with him at the moment. Kicking me out of home—what’s with that?”

  Jazz laughed at Rihanna’s annoyance. “Ever think he was doing it to force your hand?”

  “What do you mean?” Rihanna seemed stunned.

  “Well, if you have to be here, you had to face all the things we’ve been talking about rather than just running home and hiding.”

  “Anymore kicks in the ribs you want to give me today, Jazz? I thought they were starting to feel better. By all means, take another shot.” Rihanna moved her hand to her ribs, indicating where Jazz should plant the kick.