Distraction

by McPherson, Angela

"Fuck," he shouted, before turning around. His eyes widened with shock.

  My heart thudded so loudly I was sure he could hear the beats, or at the very least, see its pulse hammering against my chest.

  "What do you want, Elle?" His voice remained hard and his eyes darkened.

  I tried to hold back my tears, but failed. As much as I hated him calling me by his stupid nickname, I hated the way he said Elle even more.

  Blinking, more tears fell, but still I couldn't speak. Seeing the way Tristan looked at me, as if he really did hate me, shattered me. We watched each other for long minute, neither one of us breaking eye contact. So many unspoken words passed between us. Tristan broke away first, closing his eyes, he bowed his head again.

  "Goddammit, Elle!"

  I jumped, and more tears escaped, rolling down my heated cheeks. Tristan looked up, his expression changed from anger to sorrow. I stood grounded in place, afraid if I moved I'd completely lose it.

  Tristan took a few steps forward, his eyes holding mine. I felt like my heart bled. When he finally stood directly in front of me, I could barely see his figure from the waterworks.

  "Don't cry." Reaching up, he wiped the wetness away.

  "Tristan," I said on a broken sob.

  He instantly pulled me to him, holding me firmly against his chest. I fisted his shirt in my hands, my shoulders relaxed.

  "Please don't leave me," I said, finally able to speak somewhat clearly. Tristan didn't say anything for several minutes.

  "I'm not going anywhere. I can't–" He paused, releasing a long whoosh of air. "I love you too much." His voice cracked in the end.

  As much as hearing him say he loved me brought me joy, the words also caused an inexplicable amount of pain. I'd hurt him. Me being with Eric was hard for him, but he still chose to stay. Waiting. I didn't know how much longer I could do this to him. I loved Tristan, but my fear stood in the way of what could be. What would happen if I allowed myself to fall, completely? Ever since he admitted how he felt, that question played on repeat in my mind.

  I heard laughter and loud voices drift into the kitchen and tensed. He gripped me tighter. Allowing him to hold me, comfort me, was wrong, but I wasn't strong enough to pull away.

  Leaning down, Tristan whispered in my ear. "Let's go." I didn't even pause to think. I agreed with a nod and followed him to the closest room we found. A bathroom. Nice.

  Tristan locked the door and then turned around. Seeing the agony I'd caused him crushed me. I turned my gaze away.

  "Look at me," he said, lifting my chin. I raised my eyes to meet his. Standing so close, his familiar smell engulfed the cramped space. Tristan cupped my face in his hands, looking deeply into my eyes.

  "You know how I feel. I'm here, but I can't watch you be with another man. I just can't. It's killing me." Tristan used his thumb to brush the fresh round of tears away. I didn't think my heart could break any more, but as I looked into his tortured eyes, it did.

  "I'm sorry, Tristan. I'm so sorry." My chest ached from fighting back my hurt, pain, and uncertainty.

  "I know. I know." He leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes to keep from looking up. "I've got to go," he said.

  Panic washed over me again. I threw my arms around his neck and searched his face.

  "What do you mean?" Desperation caused my voice to pitch, though I had no clue if it came from wanting him to stay or go.

  Tristan looked down, his eyes trained on my lips. My breathing quickened and he looked up. The intensity in his eyes created a rush of desire and in that moment, I wanted him to kiss me. Hold me, love me, and never let me go. Only the words stayed lodged in my throat.

  "I'll be around," he said. "I just can't watch you be with...him." Tristan leaned closer. My eyes closed. Softly, he pressed his lips against my forehead. "I love you," he whispered, then pulled away, leaving me alone in the tiny bathroom.

  Chapter 27

  Tristan

  I couldn't get out of the damn bathroom fast enough. Elle wanted me as much as I wanted her. What the fuck was she afraid of?

  Alyssa called my name. I didn't stop, running out the front door and down the steps. Small doses of relief hit me as soon as I reached my car.

  I jumped in, turned the ignition, and gunned the gas, peeling away from the curb. I passed through several red lights not giving a damn. Another light turned red, but this time I stopped. My phone rang in my pocket. I knew the caller wasn't Elle by the ringtone, so I answered.

  "Tristan, how are you?" Hearing Heather on the other end surprised me. The light switched to green, and I took off again, though obeying traffic laws.

  "Good. How are you?" Of all people to call. I shook my head. I couldn't get away from Elle.

  "You don't sound so good."

  I slowed my speed to turn a corner. "Don't know what you mean."

  "Have you told my sister you're in love with her?"

  Could I not catch a fucking break? I sighed. "Actually, I did, but she's with someone." My jaw tensed and I gripped the steering wheel tighter, picking up speed again. All Elle had to do was choose me. Be with me.

  "So what? Tell her to stop being an idiot."

  I did not want to discuss this anymore. "It's a bit more complicated, kid. Have you called her?" I knew she hadn't. Elle would've called me the second she got off the phone with her.

  "No, but I'm not ready yet." Heather sighed into the phone. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure Elle was okay. I'll call her, I promise. I did talk to my mom though. She knows I'm doing okay, but I didn't tell her I was in rehab."

  I'd driven back to my house without realizing it. Not having any place else to be, I shifted into park and killed the engine. At least Heather had talked to their mom, a step in the right direction.

  "I'm glad you called. Have you talked to your dad?" Heather and Elle were close to their dad until he'd left town. That was when Heather started using. What was fucked up though, their dad never came back. Not once had he attempted to get her help.

  "I called him the other day. He seemed happy and was glad I was trying to get help."

  I hadn't expected her to say that. "You told your dad you were in rehab?"

  "Yeah. I know this sounds pathetic, but I miss him. I wish..." Heather stayed quiet for a few minutes. I would've thought she'd hung up had it not been for her heavy breaths.

  "Kid, you all right?"

  Heather sniffed. "Yeah. Sorry. Sobriety has turned me into a crybaby." I heard the smile in her voice.

  "No worries." The line went quiet again. I leaned my head against my headrest and waited. The silence was relaxing. I was proud of Heather, but if Elle ever found out I helped her sister behind her back, well, let’s just say that’d be another shit storm to weather.

  Heather cleared her throat. "I guess I better get off. I only get to use the phone for thirty minutes."

  I pulled my phone away. We'd been on the line for twenty minutes.

  "You've got more time. You wanna keep talking? Or we could just sit here. I don't mind." For whatever reason, Heather trusted me, and I wanted to be there for her. It's what Elle would want.

  "You don't mind? I mean if we just sit without talking." I smiled. She was a lot like her sister. Sometimes words were overrated.

  "Nah, I don't mind." Heather didn't say anything, so I closed my eyes again.

  Behind my lids, Elle's face appeared, red and blotchy from crying. I hadn't wanted to let her go. When she wrapped her arms around my neck, it took every ounce of restraint to keep from tasting her. I could feel her heart racing in her chest against mine. Her breathing increased when she caught me looking at her pouty mouth. Fuck, getting out fast had been my safest option. If I'd stayed any longer, I'd have lost my will. Damn, maybe I should've kissed her into submission. I could imagine the way her heated skin would feel as I caressed her body. The pleasing soft moans she'd make, begging me to take her.

  My hand began to shake against my ear from the image of her in my head. I opened my ey
es and pulled the phone away to ease my breathing. My jeans felt tight. No other woman could make me feel the way she could.

  Of course the way she smelled–fucking amazing–hadn't helped. I'd missed the floral scent of her shampoo. In fact, the last time I went shopping I came close to buying the same shampoo just to smell the sweet fragrance. I didn't, but only because a guy from the frat had turned down the same isle, and I didn't want to look like a pussy. What the hell was I thinking? I was a pussy. I held the phone back to my ear when I heard a female voice instructing Heather her phone privileges were up.

  "Thanks for, um, talking."

  "Anytime."

  "Bye, Tristan."

  "See ya," I said, and then the line went dead.

  Elle

  Alyssa found me in the bathroom not long after Tristan left. I attempted to pull myself together, but she didn't buy my lame excuse of being fine.

  "Elle, this is stupid." She frowned at me.

  "I can't believe you just said that to me."

  "Well, it needed to be said." Alyssa's hands went to her hips and she rolled her eyes. "You want to be with Tristan, so why in the hell are you doing this to yourself?"

  I turned the faucet on and splashed water on my face. The coolness helped calm the overwhelming need to yell or cry, or well, both. I cleared my throat.

  "I'm scared."

  She laughed and I gawked at her.

  "Of what?" Alyssa arched her perfectly trimmed brow.

  "I...I'm afraid if I give in, and let go," I paused, taking in a stuttered breath. "I'm afraid if it doesn't work out, it'll kill me. I'm not sure I'd be able to recover from that." I looked at Alyssa dead on. "What if I don't live up to Tristan's expectations? What if he decides he doesn't want me after I give in?" I waited for her to laugh in my face, only she didn't.

  "Elle, you can't–" She shifted from foot to foot nervously. Did she think Tristan would find me dull, boring? Inexperienced yes, but did she think I wouldn't be able to keep his interest? The longer she took to answer only increased my list of awful scenarios.

  "Elle, honey, Tristan is so in love with you." She stepped closer and rested her hands on my shoulders. "The way he watches you when you walk into a room or when you laugh; he notices. It's always been that way between you two.

  "So, if you're worried about your relationship changing, it will. But in a good way. He may be an ass, but he loves you. I'm glad you gave it a shot with Eric, but he's not who you want.

  "It's time to make your move before it's too late. Plus, you're doing it, again."

  I frowned.

  "You're not living," Alyssa corrected.

  "I don't know?"

  She growled, like a real honest to goodness growl.

  "You're more stubborn than Tristan is, but at least he got his shit together."

  "What if..."

  Alyssa stepped back.

  "Enough with the what-ifs, Elle. I swear you are such a pain in the ass right now."

  "Ugh, this sucks!" I bit my lip, shifting my worries from Tristan to Eric. "I need to end things with Eric."

  "Ya think?" Alyssa deadpanned.

  "I will, but not tonight."

  Alyssa raised her brow, again.

  "I will, promise."

  * * *

  Keeping up pretenses each day became a constant battle. I'd been distant, though Eric either didn't notice my indifference or chose to ignore it. On Wednesday, I figured I'd break things off for real. Didn't happen. During lunch, Eric's animated excitement for me to meet the rest of his family changed my mind.

  Thursday I went to classes, work, and later in the day I'd called Alyssa, but she didn't answer. She'd refused to speak to me. Later that night while we got ready for bed, she finally lost it.

  "Elle, you're being a bitch," Alyssa hissed, glaring at me from across our room.

  “It’s not like I mean to lead Eric on. I’m just trying to find the right time."

  "Grow some freaking balls already. You cannot keep doing this to him."

  "I'm not a fucking heartless bitch," I shouted, much to my and Alyssa's surprise. Taking a deep breath, I continued. "How in the hell am I supposed to tell Eric I don't want to be with him? I can’t exactly say, ‘Hey, Eric, you know that whole me-not-loving-Tristan thing? Not true.'"

  "Yeah, that's exactly what you say. Tell him the damn truth, because as of now, you're more of an ass than Tristan has ever been."

  That hurt. The truth usually did.

  "I hate this," I said, defeated. I rested my head against my pillow.

  "Grow up, Elle. I can't believe you right now, and I'm not speaking to you until you talk to Eric." Alyssa's light went out, followed by her flopping onto the mattress.

  I turned my lamp off as well, waiting for her to calm down before saying more. In the dark, I could see Alyssa's dark figure sit back up.

  "You don't have to tell Eric you're in love with anyone. Just tell him it's not working."

  "Okay, Alyssa. Okay," I said in a whisper then sighed. If only it were that easy. Alyssa fell back down on her bed.

  "Night. I love you and know you'll do the right thing. You always do."

  I smiled. "Thanks. I love you, too. Goodnight."

  * * *

  Saturday morning rolled around, and at this rate, I'd be leaving with Eric next Thursday. I freaking sucked at confrontation, but there was no way in hell was I going to meet any more of his family. Also, I was pretty sure Eric would want an explanation, hence my stalling the inevitable. How could I tell Eric I was leaving him for the one person I promised I didn't want? As for Alyssa, I told her I'd tell Eric by the end of the weekend. Maybe after we watched the game today? Bittersweet ending.

  Alyssa called from the living room, "Elle, Eric's here."

  I grabbed my purse and headed out to meet him.

  "Hey," I said, barely able to smile back.

  "Hey," he replied, waiting by the door.

  "So, do you and Eric have any special plans tonight?"

  I glared back at Alyssa. "We're headed to the game."

  "Have fun," she said, turning away.

  Eric and I had great seats. Once the game started, Eric laced our fingers together and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. I did my best not to pull away from his touch. Alyssa texted me, saying she'd find me. I just hoped it would be soon.

  Chapter 28

  Tristan

  Every morning my head felt like someone had taken a hammer and pounded the shit out of it. After Elle slashed my heart to shreds last week, I'd made sure to finish no less than a six-pack before crashing each night. I was tired of dreaming, tired of hoping, and the one person who could deliver peace into my hell was the very reason I was stuck there. Every day I waited, but at the end of each day, it'd been for nothing. Still.

  I thought of all the girls I'd been with while Elle watched. Payback was a bitch. Is that what she was doing?

  All through practices each day, Coach rode my ass for my sloppy, half-ass plays on the field. But damn, staying in my nightly drunken haze seemed better than going through the alternative...a shit load of torment.

  Coach threatened to pull me if I didn't get my shit together today, but as I ran onto the field, all my personal problems faded away. Not considering my alcoholic consumption, football became the one thing keeping me going this past week. Hell, it'd always been the one sure thing I had going for me.

  We rushed onto the football field with confidence. The energy from the crowd settled over me, and I tuned everything on the inside out. The coin toss denoted we'd receive the kick-off first half. Fine by me, the quicker I could get to playing, the better.

  "Daniels, you okay?" Coach gave me a knowing look as I bounced on the balls of my feet, warming up.

  "Yep," I said, watching the field.

  "Good, keep it together."

  * * *

  "Motherfucker. You all right, Daniels?" Standing in the huddle, I shook out the ringing in my head and the buzzing in my hands from being
sacked.

  "Yeah. I'm good." Beads of moisture rolled down the side of my face. A high-pitched buzz rang in my ears and I shook my head again. No nausea or dizziness, which I took as a good sign.

  "Daniels, you got the play?" I looked up and focused on Jarred across from me.

  "Sorry, I didn't hear. What's the play?"

  "Dude, you sure you're okay? You've taken a beating tonight." The ref blew his whistle, ending our time out.

  "Yup, I'm fine. Play?"

  "Swing back, I-formation on the back pass. Go on three, boys." We pulled our hands in the middle and broke.

  Once we lined up, I bent forward in a three-point stance, ready for the play. When the ball snapped I took off in a run down the middle. Swinging left, I bypassed their middle linebacker successfully.

  The hair on the back of my neck rose. I turned. There, in the air, high-spiraled and coming straight to me. In a flash, I jumped in the air and caught the ball single-handed. Making sure to tuck the ball next to my side, I hauled ass down the field.

  Colors blurred together as the momentum of the play pushed me toward the end zone. Just a few more yards to go. Something hit me from behind. I felt a pop in my shoulder. Funny, I didn't feel any pain. The ringing in my ears came back, only louder. I could feel something wet and metallic roll down the back of my throat. I coughed. The small movement created a thunderclap of pain inside my skull.

  Everything went dark.

  Elle

  "Tristan was knocked down," Eric said, pulling me back to the game.

  I focused my attention to the field, scanning for Tristan's jersey. A team member helped him to his feet, and they quickly made their way into a huddle. I hated to watch him be tackled. Their timeout ended, and they lined up for the play.

  The ball was snapped, and Tristan took off, running faster than I'd seen him run in a while. The crowd stood and cheered as he turned and swiped the ball from the air with one hand.

  Tristan said he never heard the crowd’s cheers during a game. He'd said he stayed in a sort of trance, tuning everything out. Tuning out the crowd was good, but not the linebacker trailing you. Tristan didn't seem to notice him on his ass.