Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  Hell, she was talented enough. I hadn't just been saying that. With a gift like that, an opportunity to show her work to the world was a no-brainer.

  I was just being a completely selfish ass trying to get her to stay to help me out.

  Getting help with Izzy isn't the only reason I want her to stay, though.

  I was surprised at how much of a punch in the gut it was to hear her say those things about me. There was a time when I'd been proud of my reputation with women, but now it embarrassed me. It wasn't something I ever wanted Izzy to know about, but how was I ever going to live it down if I couldn't even convince someone like Laney that I was interested in her for more than just a casual fling.

  I'd spent far too much time pushing women away. I was an expert at that.

  But how did I convince one to stay?

  Not that I hadn’t already figured out where I went wrong with Laney. Only it had taken me too long to figure out. The clues had all been there. The middle of the night disappearing act after our first night together, not calling me the next day, and then her initially cold reception when I visited her at her apartment.

  I never asked for her help, even after she offered it.

  I should have.

  As soon as Myers left my apartment, I should have thanked Laney for bailing me out and then told her I would love to have her help with Izzy. I'd been intending to do it the next day, but I was too tired when I got home. I had another chance the next day at her apartment, but we'd gotten naked and it had blown out of my head again. I didn't realize how important it was for her to hear me ask for her help, so I didn’t take it seriously enough.

  I should have. Even though I offered to let her visit Izzy as much as she wanted, that wasn’t the same thing as inviting her to become a much more important figure in the kid’s life. Losing custody to me must have felt like she’d lost the chance to help raise her best friend’s kid, and when an opportunity came for her to have another shot, I’d withheld it. For no reason other than that I was just a completely self-absorbed dick.

  Now it looked like she believed that I only thought of her as a booty call, but that wasn’t true at all. I was in this mess because I hadn’t opened up and told Laney what I wanted from her, or that I needed her help. Maybe that was all I needed to do to fix things, too. That is, tell her how I really felt about her.

  It sounded so simple. Just tell her how I felt. What could be easier than that?

  Except that talking about my feelings had never been one of my strengths.

  I had no problem telling her how good her pussy felt around my cock, so why wasn't it just as easy to tell her that I felt just as good simply being in the same room as her? Why couldn't I tell her about how much I thought about her when she wasn't around, and wanted to see her every minute that we were apart?

  I hated the idea of her leaving for a month, and not only because I needed help with my daughter.

  Why couldn't I tell her that?

  Even during these past couple of days, before I'd realized that I wasn't really angry at Laney at all, I couldn't help but think about her obsessively. I'd bring her up with Izzy, talking about her over cereal, I'd stew over her during nap times, like now, and then I'd dream about her at night.

  Did she feel the same way about me?

  She hadn't called, so I was guessing not. Of course, I hadn't called either. But I'd wanted to. Even if it was to just pick up the fight again, at least I'd get to hear her voice.

  Now that I'd realized I was being an idiot and that not talking is what put me here in the first place, I resolved to break the silence. No matter how difficult it was going to be.

  I looked up at the clock. It was time to wake Izzy from her nap anyway. Maybe I'd take her over to Delaney's apartment for a visit.

  You mean use her as a shield against any unresolved anger that Laney might still be holding onto. Very brave.

  I shrugged to myself as I rose from the couch. It wasn't as if Laney and I making up didn't benefit Izzy as well.

  Nice justification.

  As I reached the stairs, there was a knock on the door. I spun on my heels to answer it.

  "Laney? This is a nice surprise, I was just—"

  "Can it, Garrick. I'm not here to see you. I want to talk to Izzy."

  She was still angry. I could see the coldness in her eyes even if I hadn't heard her words. It stung, knowing how much I’d hurt her. I was desperate to make things better.

  "She's napping, but I was just going to wake her up anyway. But listen, about the other day, I just—"

  "Seriously, Garrick, I don't want to hear it. I think we both said our piece and there's no point trying to walk back from it now, just because a couple of days have passed. Nothing's changed." She paused. "Well, that's not true. Something's changed for me. I'm going to Paris for the show after all. I'm on my way to the airport now, as a matter of fact. I just stopped over to say goodbye to Izzy."

  I was stunned, but I just nodded and stood out of the way. I offered to go and wake Izzy up and bring her down, but Laney said she would just come upstairs with me. She had a cab waiting outside and needed to be quick.

  I led the way, but just stood in the doorway as Laney went over to the bed and knelt in front of it.

  She stroked her fingers across Izzy's cheek and kissed her forehead. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, I could see her open her big blue eyes and smile at seeing De-ainy.

  They spoke softly and although I could have listened in if I'd tried, I was far too distracted.

  Delaney was leaving for Paris. Today. And she wouldn't be back for weeks.

  And she was still mad at me.

  I thought back to the fight we'd had and everything we'd said to each other. How she wondered whether what we had was anything more than just physical. I thought she was saying that because of my own reputation, but maybe that was the way she had been treating it as well. Maybe being with me had been safe for her, because she knew it would never go anywhere. From the moment we met she'd always claimed to hate me, but I thought I'd won her over.

  Had I been a fool to believe that? Had she only been with me because she figured since we were going to be a part of each other’s lives anyway, she may as well get a quick screw out of it? Maybe the idea of anything longer term with someone like me was still laughable to her.

  She said it was time to think about what she wanted, and not what everyone else wanted. And if she wanted to go to Paris, then that meant she didn't want me.

  "Okay De-ainy. Bye bye."

  Laney stood and turned, tears in her eyes. She looked at me for a moment and I thought I saw them soften, but then she turned her head and rushed past. I heard her run down the stairs and the front door close with a slam behind her.

  Izzy got out of bed and walked to me, lifting her arms. I picked her up and she hugged me.

  "De-ainy go bye bye," she said.

  I nodded, but didn't trust my voice to say anything.

  I did this. I drove her away. If not through my actions the other day, then because of who I was.

  I was Tanner Garrick, perennial bachelor and all around party boy. If that was the way everyone saw me, then it didn't matter that I thought of myself as more. No one of any worth would get serious about a guy like me.

  I had to accept that as long as people continued to see me that way, I would never be able to get a woman like Delaney to believe in me. I could scream from the rooftops that there was more to me than just a guy to have a good time with, but that wasn’t going to make anyone believe it. And why should they, if all I did was scream it?

  Actions speak louder than words, Garrick.

  How could I claim to be something other than how I acted? I never denied that my reputation was deserved. Hell, I’d been proud of how much effort had gone into building it in the first place. But if that was who I really was, what kind of role model would I be to Izzy?

  A shitty one.

  Like my father.

  With that reali
zation, I vowed that it was time to change.

  Kissing Izzy, I squeezed her tight, silently promising to make sure that she always knew that she could count on me, and that she was the most important woman in my life. That she was the most important anything in my life.

  31

  Delaney

  I stood staring at the blank wall of the gallery assigned to me. It wasn't a large space. I wasn't a known artist, after all, but it had been big enough for me to hang all of the pieces I'd brought with me three weeks ago. Now it was as empty as the day I'd arrived, staff having just removed the last piece to get it ready for shipping.

  I was told that the buyer lived in Spain.

  Spain!

  Something that I had created was going to hang in a house in Spain. The idea still floored me, despite the fact that I knew many of my other pieces were also sold to people around Europe. Mainly France, but other countries as well. In fact, I even sold two to buyers from the USA. I had to come all the way to Paris to have someone from my own country finally buy something of mine.

  I smiled at the irony even though I knew it wasn't strictly fair. I'd never really given selling my work a chance back home. This was my first gallery showing. I'd never had the confidence before to put myself out there.

  It wasn't going to be my last, though.

  Maybe Tanner wasn't just trying to be nice that day in my apartment, when he'd told me how much he liked my work. Maybe I had some talent after all.

  Tanner.

  As usual, the thought of him burned a mix of emotions through me. Weeks apart still hadn’t dimmed the memory of how much pleasure he could bring with just a simple touch. But lust and desire weren't the dominate emotions I felt about him anymore. Nor was the anger I'd held onto for days after he'd left my apartment that final time.

  No, what I mostly felt now was regret and embarrassment at how I'd handled things. How I'd over-reacted and how abruptly I'd left.

  Why had I blamed him so much just because he took time to decide whether he wanted me to help with Izzy? It had been my fault for springing that idea on him in the first place, and who could blame him anyway? I had also been the one that had been trying to take his daughter away from him, even if my intentions were good. Of course he'd be wary about me trying to worm my way back into his life. But even still, he'd come around, and in only a couple of days, but then I acted like he took months to decide.

  It was completely irrational, and it took a lot of introspection to realize that my reaction was likely just born from the fear I had about being rejected and cast out of Izzy's life forever.

  Not just Izzy's life. Tanner's, too.

  In these past few weeks, I'd missed him almost as much as I missed her.

  Yet it seemed like he had moved on. I'd called and sent a few text messages over the last couple of weeks, but none were returned. His silence spoke volumes.

  I sighed and turned from the wall, the elated mood I'd held only moments before threatening to deflate again.

  "Hey Chase!"

  I turned at the sound, no longer surprised at only being called by my last name. For some reason, all of the artists here seemed to do the same to each other. As if they were preparing for a time when that's how they'd be known, like any of the greats. Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet. I wasn’t sure Chase was ever going to end up in that same company, but I played along.

  "Moreau, hi." I let a smile touch my lips. Claude Moreau was a brilliant painter from one of the smaller cities outside of Paris. He had been the first featured artist of the show, and even though his work had all been sold during the first few days, he still seemed to find regular reasons to return to the gallery. And he always made sure to spend a lot of that time talking to me. He was very attractive, with dark curly hair and deep dark eyes that seemed to take in every detail of every moment. No wonder his work was so fascinating.

  Every time those probing eyes delved into me I found it hard not to turn away and blush.

  "You are leaving tomorrow, yes?" His English was very good, but he had a very heavy accent.

  "Yes," I nodded.

  "You must come out with us tonight, then. For drinks. To celebrate!"

  So far I'd avoided going out with Claude, although he'd invited me on numerous occasions. This time, however, I was tempted to say yes. It was a Friday night, after all. And my final night in Europe. Besides, it wasn't like I had anything holding me back at home.

  He might be suggesting drinks with the other artists, but I knew he had motives beyond that.

  "That sounds fun," I nodded with a smile.

  He beamed at me, and his eyes flitted down along my body suggestively. I shivered slightly, hoping he didn't notice.

  It was a feeling I hadn't had in a long time. Even during the week that Roxie had come up, dragging me out to nightclubs three nights in a row, I hadn't let myself get drawn into any of the suggestive flirting of any of the locals. It hadn't felt right, and at that point I was still hoping to hear from Tanner.

  Now that I'd accepted that whole relationship was a lost cause, it was about time I refocused on me again. Wasn't that the whole reason I'd argued I was coming here in the first place? Sure, I'd meant focusing on my career, but there was no reason I couldn't also think about my personal life as well. I was young, single and now a moderately successful artist. Selling those paintings had put more money in my bank account than I'd ever had in there at any one time.

  Why shouldn't I have a little fun?

  Maybe I shouldn't even be in a rush to go back home. I'd already spent most of the month here, maybe I should at least finish it off and—

  Just then I heard my phone beep in my purse, indicating a text message. I hadn't paid for a plan while here, since the gallery didn't mind their foreign artists making the occasional quick phone call back home and they had wifi for anything else. Text messages and browsing over that free signal were how I spent a lot of my down time around here.

  I excused myself quickly from Claude by promising to find him shortly to go over details about later.

  My heart was pounding as I fished around in my purse. It was likely just another message from Roxie, but I couldn't help but hope it was from Tanner.

  So much for the idea of completely forgetting him.

  Strangely, the message was from a number I didn't recognize at all, but they obviously knew me.

  Unknown: Is this Delaney?

  Delaney: Yes, who is this?

  Unknown: Cooper Westin, Tanner's friend. I wanted to talk to you about something but my calls aren't getting through

  Cooper? How the hell did he get my number, and why does he want to talk to me? I texted back, telling him that I didn't have a phone plan here.

  Cooper: I just was wondering when you were coming back, and if you were planning on talking to Tanner?

  Was I planning on talking to Tanner? It was a strange question, given that I had been trying to reach Tanner for a couple of weeks. Apparently, he hadn't been very open with his friend about what he'd been feeling. Not surprising.

  Delaney: Is something wrong?

  Cooper: No... well, I dunno tbh

  What the hell did that mean? I was trying to figure it out when he sent another message.

  Cooper: He's just been acting really weird, I guess. I thought maybe you could talk to him with me

  Delaney: I'm coming back home tomorrow, but not until late. How about Sunday?

  I had been planning on dropping by on Sunday anyway. Even if Tanner didn't want to speak to me, that didn't mean I wasn't going to come by and see Izzy. I missed her little face.

  Cooper: That's perfect, actually. Maybe head over there after lunch?

  Delaney: Will he be home?

  I got the feeling that this meeting wasn't one that Tanner was expecting.

  Cooper: Yeah, I think it's a safe bet. He doesn't really go out much anymore...

  At all? That didn't sound like Tanner. And not leaving the apartment wasn't healthy for Izzy, either.

&n
bsp; Delaney: Okay, see you there

  I dropped my phone back into my purse. Looked like I wasn't going to be staying in Paris longer than tomorrow after all, and now I wasn't even feeling like going out tonight with Claude, either.

  Like it or not, the mere suggestion that something was wrong with Tanner was enough for me to realize that I hadn't stopped caring about him. Even if he'd stopped caring about me.

  I tried to convince myself that the main reason I was so concerned was because if something was wrong with him, it meant that Izzy might be in trouble. I needed to get back for her, at least.

  Of course, that argument was made far less convincing by my decision to cancel my plans with Claude.

  32

  Tanner

  "Aren't you going to help me clean up today?"

  "Uh oh," Izzy said, stopping at the doorway to the kitchen and then turning and running back. She grabbed her plastic dish and brought it over to me at the sink. "Here daddy." Then she ran and got her cup and did the same thing.

  "All done," she yelled as she tore out of the room again.

  It would still take some time for her to start helping on her own, but we'd get there. I was laser focused on raising her right, but she was still young. Still, if I didn't start early it would just be harder later to change habits. That's what all the books I'd been reading said, anyway. And I was determined to teach my daughter to take care of herself. I didn't want her growing up thinking she had to rely on someone else to take care of her, or being used to having everything handed to her by spoiling her completely. That's how she'd end up being taken advantage of, or making bad choices.