Inhibitions

by Kimberly Bracco

  I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even notice that I’m not alone anymore until I hear someone speak behind me,

  “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” a woman who I can only assume is Tanner’s mother asks. She stands there in a jersey similar to mine next to a man who looks a lot like Tanner wearing the same jersey. The smile on her face is full of pride.

  “It certainly is,” I reply, reflecting a pride-filled smile of my own. “I’m Ashley Mitchell. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you,” I introduce myself, offering a hand to them each in turn. “Tanner has told me so much about you.”

  “Same here, dear.” Mrs. Garrison shakes my hand. “It’s nice to finally meet the woman who has stolen my son’s heart.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say shyly, doing my best to keep my face from turning red.

  “Oh, I do, dear.” She smiles again.

  The three of us chat idly for about twenty minutes before Quinn comes bouncing into the suite, a ball of irrepressible energy.

  “Hey, Bitch,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. She turns to Mr. and Mrs. Garrison, saying, “Alex said that you’d better not skip out before he gets up here to say hello. He said he missed you last game and he hasn’t seen you in a while.”

  Tanner’s parents clearly have no idea what to make of Quinn’s brusqueness, and it’s amusing.

  “This is Quinn, my best friend,” I explain. “She also happens to have gotten pretty close to Alex, as you can tell.”

  “Oh, well nice to meet you, dear,” Mrs. Garrison answers. “Thank you for relaying Alex’s message. It has been a while since we’ve seen him.” Her smile is almost as proud when she talks about Alex as it had been when she was talking about Tanner, which reminds me of how long they’ve been friends. Alex must be very close to Tanner’s parents too.

  We all order drinks and some snacks while we wait for the game to start. Tanner’s dad tells us some football stories from Tanner’s youth and has us nearly in tears with laughter.

  “Thank God for those stories,” I say, still laughing after one particularly amusing story about a terrible play of Tanner’s. “I was starting to think that he was born perfect.”

  “I tried, but yes, he does have some flaws,” Mrs. Garrison agrees just as the door to the suite opens and Melissa breezes in as though she owns the world.

  “Melissa,” Mrs. Garrison exclaims. “So good to see you again.” She gets up to wrap Melissa in a huge hug, seeming as happy to see her as if the bitch had hung the fucking moon or something.

  “Hello, Margaret. Hi, Andrew. It’s great to see you guys again too. Sorry I missed you at the last game, but I just couldn’t get here. I felt so bad, but Tanner said he understood, so I felt less guilty,” she explains.

  It’s news to me. I hadn’t known that Melissa came to the games most of the time or that she and Tanner still talked on a regular basis. I’d figured that had ended when their fuck-buddy arrangement did.

  “What the fuck is she talking about?” Quinn whispers as she walks over to me.

  “I have no clue,” I tell her, trying to contain the surprise that’s quickly morphing into anger.

  “Hey, Melissa,” Quinn greets her. “I didn’t know that we would get to see you again today. The boys never mentioned anything,” Quinn’s comment and tone seem innocent enough, but I know that’s her way of letting Melissa know that the guys haven’t mentioned her to us because she isn’t important. Watching Quinn get jealous over Alex would be amusing if I weren’t just as annoyed about Melissa.

  “Oh, I never miss a game. Well, I try not to anyway. Sometimes work gets in the way, like the last home game. I couldn’t get here, but that’s the first one I’ve missed in a while. Tanner’s been getting me season tickets for years,” she says with a very smug smile.

  “How nice of him. It’s awesome that he has such a big cheering section now,” I say, attempting to stake my claim as the official head of said cheering section. Tanner is my boyfriend, and she was never anything more than his fuck buddy. I know I need to keep repeating that in my head.

  Melissa offers a half-hearted smile before heading back over to where Tanner’s parents now sit and striking up a conversation.

  “I’d really like to fuck that bitch up,” Quinn says point blank. “I don’t like that she thinks she has some claim over the guys.”

  “Do you know if Alex ever slept with her?” I ask but immediately regret it, realizing it’s probably not the best idea to put in Quinn’s head.

  “No clue, but I don’t care. No way that bitch could ever complete with me or you. Just watch your back around her. I definitely don’t trust that twat.” She sneers.

  I laugh at her brutal honesty. “You have such a way with words, my dear.”

  The game flies by. The Jets kick some ass, and Tanner has a great game. It’s much more fun to watch it happen in person. Apparently, today’s game was not only a divisional one but rivalry as well. The Jets and Patriots have quite a bit of animosity between them. I feed off the energy that rolling off of Tanner, even across all the distance between us. It feels as though I’ve thrown the touchdown each time he does, and I jump and down and yell like a crazy lunatic. After each touchdown, Tanner looks toward the suite and blows me a kiss. I’m pretty sure they even show me on TV a few times. Take that, Melissa.

  “It’s so nice to see him so happy and in love,” Mr. Garrison says to me as we wait in the suite for Tanner to finish his post-game duties.

  “Well, thank you, Mr. Garrison. I don’t think I would say love just yet, but we definitely care deeply for each other,” I reply, feeling a little embarrassed. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m telling him I don’t love his son or because I’m telling him his son doesn’t love me. I don’t think Tanner loves me, but do I love him? I’d never really given it any thought until now. And that’s all the thought I give it for the moment because I’m suddenly swept up into an enormous hug by the man in question himself.

  “What’d you think, baby?” he asks, setting me back down on my feet.

  “I think you were fantastic as always,” I answer before giving him a kiss that probably isn’t suitable for an audience, but Melissa’s still here, so I have a point to make.

  “You might not say so, but I do. And please call me Andrew,” Mr. Garrison whispers to me before congratulating Tanner.

  “What was that about?” Tanner asks.

  “Nothing. How about we go home and celebrate your performance on the field with an equally stellar performance off the field?”

  “I say, what’re we waiting for?”

  I consider asking him why he’s never mentioned that Melissa comes to his games, but the fact that he didn’t acknowledge her or even say good-bye puts things in perspective for me and seems to explain why he’d never said anything. She isn’t even a thought in his mind, and knowing that makes me extremely happy.

  Chapter 27

  ASHLEY

  The last two weeks have been a whirlwind. I feel as though Tanner and I have grown closer. My insecurities seem to have disappeared, and I’ve never felt more secure in myself or in anything else. He does that for me. He lifts me up and makes me better. Tanner and I have something special, and I’ve been living in a perpetual state of happiness lately. Both of us have been busy since his last home game. Tanner had to head back out of town the night after. The team had a Thursday night game, so they had to head to Arizona Monday night. So we haven’t seen each other all week, but we have made sure to speak to each other whenever possible. It sucks being apart, but I understand. It’s part of his job, and he loves his job. It’s only for a few months a year.

  Tanner and I spend the weekend after he gets back from Arizona and Monday night together, doing nothing but hanging out. Tanner and the team have been working pretty hard. Their record of eight and two is amazing, and they’re leading their division. Tanner has explained to me that the coach has a philosophy about there always being room for improvement and if there is
ever a time to not slack off, it’s now.

  So when I come down with the stomach flu in the middle of the week, I make up excuses as to why I’m too busy to see Tanner. I think he starts to catch on by the end of the week, but then he has to leave again on Friday, before he can confront me. Since then, I’ve been biding my time, hoping to be better by the time he gets back tonight. I feel bad for lying to him, but there’s no way I’m having him come here and get sick. Not a chance in fucking hell. I can see the headlines now: Star quarterback Tanner Garrison catches stomach flu from girlfriend and can’t play this week.

  "Okay, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were pregnant," Quinn says, wetting another washcloth to wipe the back of my neck as I sit by the toilet.

  I hadn’t been kidding when I said that Tanner could not afford to catch this. I’ve been hovering over the toilet on and off for the last week, puking my guts up. There isn’t anything left in my body to vomit up but internal organs. I’ve barely eaten in days because I can’t keep anything down. I’m also exhausted. I can’t remember ever feeling this tired in my life. Honestly, I think I might be dying.

  "No, I'm not Quinn. I just have a stomach virus or something. Can you help me back to bed? I don’t think I can make it on my own." I’m not even sure I can hold my own weight right now.

  "Are you sure you're done for right now? I’m going get you some crackers and ginger ale and put them in your room. Then I'll come back and help you. I don’t feel like cleaning up any more of your vomit this week, so let’s make sure that you're good for right now. I also need to change the garbage can in your room. You seriously owe me for this when you’re better, by the way," Quinn says on her way out of the bathroom.

  The next thing that I know, I hear hushed murmuring at the door. I realize I must have nodded off on the floor of the bathroom. My head isn’t even resting on the toilet seat anymore. I’m just lying down next to it.

  "She's going to be mad if you see her like this, Tanner," I hear Quinn say.

  "I don’t give a shit. How long has she been sick? And why didn’t she tell me?" he growls at her.

  "Don’t get pissy with me! She's been sick most of the week. You know she doesn’t like to ask for help from anyone, and she doesn’t want anyone else to catch this shit, especially you. If I didn’t live with her, I probably wouldn’t know she was sick either."

  "Okay, well, let’s get her into bed, and I'll stay with her until morning. I don’t have anywhere to be until ten o'clock tomorrow," he says as he pushes open the bathroom door.

  "Go away, Tanner. I'm fine. I don’t need you to get sick too!" I tell him from the floor.

  "Jesus, Ash. You’re not fine. Far from it. You look like shit, and I think you’ve like lost ten pounds since last weekend. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, baby?" he asks, bending down to scoop me up off the floor.

  "I'd be careful with the sudden movements if I were you,” Quinn warns him. “She pukes really easily, and I’m tired of cleaning it up."

  "'I'll get someone to clean the place for you. I don’t care if she pukes on me. She needs to be in bed."

  I must fall asleep again because that’s the last thing that I remember of their conversation. I’m woken up sometime later by the need to vomit again. I groan and roll over to get out of bed only to hit a hard wall of muscle. I can’t hold back the dry heaving, and Tanner stirs beside me.

  "Hey, baby. Here," he says, picking up the trash can and holding it for me.

  "You should go. You can’t catch this," I insist. "I didn’t tell you for a reason."

  "Shh, baby. I know. I know. But you need help. You’re super dehydrated and you look like death. Let me help you. I’ll only be able to see you a few days this week, and I want to spend as much time as I can with you. Even if that just means holding your hair back while you hang your head over the toilet." He smoothes my hair back from my forehead.

  "Why don’t you take a sip of this ginger ale and lay back down. Try to sleep. I'll stay with you tonight, but you really need to sleep." He kisses the top of my head and reaches for the cup of soda Quinn left on my nightstand.

  I take a sip and then lay my head down on his chest to drift back off to sleep. When I wake again, it’s to a kiss on my cheek and the sound of Tanner whispering good-bye and promising to check on me later.

  I say, “Okay," and go back to sleep.

  I wake up once again a few hours later with an awful feeling in my stomach that has nothing to do with the virus I have. Something that Quinn said to me yesterday flashes suddenly into my mind.

  "Quiiiiin!" I scream.

  She come into the room huffing. "I swear to God I'm not cleaning up any more messes you’ve made. I was sure your boyfriend would handle that for you this morning," she says. "Well, you look a little better at least this morning, Sweets. What’s up?”

  "I need you to go to the drug store for me, please. Right now," I say, panicking slightly.

  "Why, what do you need?"

  "A pregnancy test or three, just in case. Oh my God, I can’t believe that I forgot." I know I'm getting myself all worked up, but I don’t care. No way, this can’t be happening. Why didn’t I notice earlier?

  "What? Are you kidding? I was only joking yesterday. You’ve been on the patch for years. Calm down," Quinn says, trying to calm me down.

  "About two months ago, I was changing the sheets on my bed and found a patch stuck to it. It had only been off for like three days, and I put another one on immediately after I found it. Google said I’d be fine as long as I used condoms for the next few days. But that was the weekend of the gala, and I didn’t have sex the days following, so I never thought anything of it again. But I don’t think I have had a period since then. I’d just thought it was because my cycle got all screwed up with switching the patch days and whatnot. I never thought I could be pregnant. No way, Quinn. My luck can’t possibility be that awful. No fucking way," I explain, rambling. I ramble when I freak out.

  "Okay, okay! Calm down! I’m going now. Be back in a few minutes. Stay in bed until I get back. I don’t need you passing out or anything."

  I down almost the entire bottle of ginger ale after she rushes out, hoping to be hydrated enough to pee by the time she gets back.

  In reality, Quinn is only gone for about ten minutes, but it feels as though it has taken her three hours by the time she gets home. She comes barreling into my bedroom and dumps a bag of pregnancy tests on my bed.

  "Here, I got one of each brand they had at the corner store. Go pee, now!"

  I grab a box and head into the bathroom. I pull the test out of the box and read the instructions to make sure that I do this right. I’m hit by a wave nausea, but I do my best to ignore it. I have to figure out what the hell is going on. I sit down to pee, but barely manage to cover the entire end of the stick like the directions say because I’m so dehydrated. I place the cap on the test and wait. It says it takes three minutes for results. So I wash my hands and stare at the test, waiting for the results to pop up in the little window.

  Quinn comes in into the bathroom and picks up the stick, asking, "What are we looking for?"

  "It will say either pregnant or not pregnant. I can’t look any longer. Let me know when it says something." I pace back and forth, waiting for Quinn to speak.

  "Okay, want me to show you or tell you?"

  I stop pacing and turn around. "Show me," I say.

  My world falls apart as Quinn spins the test around and I read the word in the little window: pregnant.

  “Oh my God, Quinn!” I sob. “What the hell am I going to do?”

  “It’ll be okay. It’s not like either one of you didn’t want kids, even if it’s not how you expected.”

  “Do you really believe that?” A thousand thoughts swirl around in my head, but none of them are ‘everything will okay’.

  “I do, and you should too,” she says, hugging me.

  God, I hope she’s right.

  Chapter 28

 
TANNER

  I can’t wait for the meeting to be over so I can get back to Ashley. She really did look like death last night, and I’m still upset she didn’t want me to take care of her. She can be so stubborn sometimes.

  Coach is prattling on, saying that just because we’re having a great season so far doesn’t mean we’re guaranteed a playoff spot.

  "A good season means shit if you don’t make it the playoffs. So let’s make sure that we don’t get ahead of ourselves. We have five more regular season games ahead of us, so let’s not fuck it up. Nine and two is good, don’t get me wrong, but there’s always room for improvement. I want everyone here at ten sharp tomorrow morning for game film." With those parting words, everyone is dismissed.

  Coach glances around the room and then heads straight toward me. "Garrison, your game yesterday was phenomenal. Probably one of your best ever. You finished with five hundred twelve passing yards and four passing TD's. Not to mention your rushing TD at the end of the third. Wherever your head has been at lately, it seems to be doing wonders for your game. That said, let’s not let your ego get in way. See you tomorrow, son." He claps me on the back and heads out with the rest of the coaching staff.

  "Me? Ego? I have no idea what you mean, Coach," I call after him.

  He turns and gives me a weary smile, shaking his head.

  I laugh to myself. Come on, we’re athletes. We’re born with egos. Mine’s nowhere near the same size as those of some of the assholes in this league.

  As for where my head is at, it’s been with an incredible brunette who’s currently sick at home. My attitude has been pretty carefree ever since Ashley and I got together. It’s weird how little it’s taken for me let my guard down around her. She isn’t like any of the girls I’ve run into over the years. She doesn’t want anything from me but me, my time and my attention. But she never complains when she can’t get it. She doesn’t like asking me for anything, even just taking care of her while she’s sick. I know so many girls who would have used that as a way to keep me at their beck and call. Not Ash. She'd rather suffer in silence. Ever since she wrote that article about me, she hasn’t asked me for one thing—except down and dirty sex, and I had to pry that request from her in the beginning. It didn’t take too much force, though. Now that she’s comfortable, she doesn’t even hesitate to ask.