His Long Shot (Love Games)

by Allyson Lindt

  He looked in her direction, and she turned her attention to her drink.

  He leaned closer, his breathy question making her eyes water. “Hey, beautiful. Is it true chubby girls try harder in bed?”

  She fiddled with the edge of her shirt and moved to a different stool, not bothering to answer. It had taken a long time to get over the image issues she’d had as a teenager. Several of which stemmed from the fact Zach had only dated thin girls before her. She wasn’t overweight—but she’d never had the narrow waist and slim figure that would lead anyone to mistake her for a supermodel. That didn’t mean comments about her lack of Photoshop physique hurt any less.

  A series of basketball games blared in the background, overlapping each other and clashing with the chatter. A voice whispered in the back of her head that if she wanted to take her mind off Zach, a sports bar filled with young businessmen just like him, but slimier, probably wasn’t the way to do it.

  She had the same thought two hours earlier, but had hoped the alcohol would make it better. Now she was just drunk enough to realize she wasn’t in the mood for a cheap stand-in.

  “What's your poison, hot stuff?” The stranger’s alcohol-laden breath landed on her cheek, and he wrapped an arm around her waist.

  A chill crawled under her skin. She jerked away from the grabby douche. “Nothing you can afford.”

  “Like you’re going to find a better offer.”

  A hand rested at the small of her back. “She said she’s not interested.” Zach’s familiar voice erased the cold roaring through her.

  Her heart stuttered to a stall and then sped up tenfold. What was he doing there? And what would it take to keep his hand there a little longer?

  Drunk Douche appraised Zach. “Not in you.”

  “Maybe not.” Zach’s arm brushed her spine. “But at least I can take no for an answer.”

  Rae watched the scene unfold, horror tingeing her fascination. Her skull winced in protest, or maybe it was the three white Russians reminding her she hadn’t eaten that night.

  “Slut.” Drunk Douche stumbled into the barstool in his haste to get away.

  It was tempting to let Zach go after Drunk Douche, but Rae forced herself to put a restraining hand on his arm. She wasn’t some princess who needed a knight in shining armor, but knowing that didn’t stop the unexpected rescue from warming her. “He’s not worth it.”

  When he whirled back to face her, his snarl morphed into a soft smile. He dropped into the stool next to her. “At least let me pick up your tab.”

  He was being sweet. What did he want? She hated the thought. She also wanted his hand on her back again. Wanted to lean against his shoulder and forget putting him behind her was part of the reason she’d been drinking.

  She shook her head but stopped when the room tilted at strange angles. “Already covered, but thank you.”

  He moved her drink away from her. “You look wobbly.”

  “Only a little.” She needed him closer again, so she could lean on him. No, she didn’t. She was fine. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night.”

  She hopped off the stool. Her heel hooked on a rung, and she stumbled, destroying her attempt at a cool getaway.

  Zach caught her, one hand on her shoulder, and the other on her hip to help her stand again.

  A whisper of his aftershave washed over her, and she swallowed. Damn it, she didn't need him there. A taunting voice in the back of her mind pointed out he was probably here to pick up a girl. Though her intent was similar, the realization drove home how one-time last night had been. She hurried to right herself, and almost fell backward again in the process.

  He studied her for a minute, concern heavy in his eyes. “You're calling a cab, right?”

  “No.” She wasn't that drunk. “I need my car... Because reasons.” Which really, she didn’t. The rental could stay in the lot until tomorrow, and she wouldn’t miss it. Stubbornness kept her from admitting it.

  When she wobbled again he grabbed her car keys and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Can I give you a ride home, m'lady?”

  That felt good. Her entire body tilted toward the contact. She frowned and straightened. How had she been jostled into this? “I'm fine, thanks.” She reached for her keys but lost her footing when he yanked them out of reach.

  “Yeah, you're not. You don’t have to leave with me, but you’re not driving.”

  She wanted to protest again, but being so close to him made it hard to think. She put some space between them. “Fine. Whatever.” She winced at his raised eyebrows and pursed lips. “A ride home would be nice.”

  They made their way to the parking lot. He steered her toward one of the flashier cars in the lot—a Porsche Cayman. How many of the guys inside could have paid cash for a vehicle like this? He unlocked her door and held her arm until she was seated. The interior filled her head with his scent and leather, and made her thoughts dance faster.

  It didn't escape her when he took the opportunity to watch her skirt ride up. Good. At least she wasn’t the only one this was affecting. She took her time smoothing the hem out again.

  An awkward silence descended between them as he pulled onto the road. A string of questions spilled through her head, some ice-breakers, others flirty, and others filled with self-righteous indignation. She couldn't focus enough to figure out which direction she wanted to go. Her mouth made the decision without her brain’s permission. “So is the ride home a clever excuse to try and get me in bed again?”

  His eyes narrowed. “This is the one and only time I’ll ever say this. Never, not before, not now, not in the future, will we do anything while you’re under the influence.”

  What was wrong with her? He’d rescued her—not just from Drunk Douche, or having to take a cab home, but from an evening she didn’t want after all—and she was insulting him in return.

  He sighed and fished a pack of smokes from his shirt pocket. He stuck one to his lips then obviously thought better of it.

  “You can smoke; I don't care.”

  “You sure?”

  “It’s your car. Besides, you're doing me a favor.”

  “Am I the only one struggling with this?” He rolled the window down before lighting up.

  Rae stared at him, surprised by the question and the frustration behind it. She couldn’t lie. Not about this, and not to him. “No.”

  “I’ve thought about this a lot more than I should since you came back.” He exhaled, smoke drifting out the window and vanishing in to the night. “We’re in the past. What we were doesn’t matter. So why do I keep coming back to you being here now?”

  Figured. She was struggling to force the alcohol aside enough to hold up her half the conversation, and he was digging into her head and tugging on the one thread she wanted to ignore. “I don’t have an answer.”

  ZACH HADN’T ONLY BEEN in the bar a few minutes when he caught sight of a familiar blonde. Irrational jealousy surged inside when he saw another guy sitting next to Rae, and it turned to fury when Zach watched her try to shrug the guy off.

  Now he was spilling his guts, and he didn’t want to be.

  But she was listening, she sounded as stalled as he was, and he needed to get the thoughts out of his head.

  “I know I promised rewriting our ending would give me closure, but I can’t seem to let our breakup go, regardless of how long ago it happened, or how many misunderstandings we cleared up.” Frustration surged inside. He pulled the elastic from his ponytail and raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s not because you dumped me, or left town without even saying goodbye, or told everyone I was the one pushing you into a future you didn’t want. None of that would have mattered if you had been anyone else.”

  Her silence was impossible to interpret. Did she feel any of this the way he did?

  There was an ache behind his ribs that wouldn’t go away. He needed answers. He needed to empty his head. He needed...

  Not her. Finishing that thought led down a bad road.
So he grabbed more words instead. “I trusted you. More than anyone. You were my confidant and my equal. You were the only person I could be myself around. Even with Scott there were certain behaviors I kept in check because of his parents.”

  He’d hated that. Always having to be on his best behavior. It was second nature now, but sometimes he just wanted to say fuck it and not live by other people’s rules. He’d though he had that with Rae. “I thought we could talk about anything, and when you walked out, I realized the only conversation that mattered was the one thing you kept to yourself.”

  He flicked his cigarette out the window and exhaled, breath shaky. “You made assumptions. I saw it happening and hoped it would solve itself. We thought we were sharing ourselves with each other, and instead it was this verbal dance, both of us too stubborn to yield. And it still is.”

  “You’re right.” Her voice was tiny.

  He gave a short laugh. Shouldn’t that admission make him feel better? What was wrong with him? Did he think they could go back? That wouldn’t happen. He was fooling himself to believe otherwise. “We’re kind of fucked up like that, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled his car into her spot in visitor parking, and turned to her. Exhaustion and regret mingled with heavy sadness. “Me too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Rae tossed her controller on the coffee table and flung her hands in the air. “Owned!”

  The final score blinked back from the large screen TV, taunting and backing up her exclamation. She'd beaten Scott at a video game. She couldn't believe it. Sure, it was Tetris, but still. It was the principle.

  “Not,” Scott said.

  “Yuh-huh.” She giggled. This was so much better than letting her mind replay the conversation with Zach. Like it had for the last three days. She didn’t have a solution, but his tone, his words, the fact that she agreed, all gnawed at her. Everything he said echoed how she felt, and she didn’t know what to do about it. Ignoring it wasn’t working. Hanging out with Scott was a temporary reprieve, because it let her pretend she could still cling to part of that past. “Guess I'm not a noob after all, noob.”

  “Oh yeah?” Scott lunged forward and tickled her.

  “Ack!” Her giggles squealed through the condo. She fell back on the couch, leather creaking beneath her as she tried to get away. Her shirt slid up her stomach, exposing more of her flesh the more she resisted. His palms were warm against her skin. The more she squirmed under him, the more her body reacted. She paused, aware of how close he was.

  He’s good looking. But he’s not Zach.

  Rae didn’t want him to be. She wanted both of them in her life, in different ways.

  She rested a palm on Scott’s chest. “This isn’t us.”

  “It could be.” He searched her face.

  It really couldn’t be. Even if she wasn’t hung up on Zach. Hung up? Yeah. “It really couldn’t. I’d do anything for you.”

  “But I won’t do that.” Scott sang in a cheesy Meatloaf imitation. He sighed, straightened up, and helped pull her into a sitting position.

  I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right thing to say. She wasn’t. Why was this all coming together and falling apart right now?

  Because I’ve avoided it for so long.

  She couldn’t anymore. What was happening?

  A loud pounding interrupted them. Both of them froze, Scott's gaze locked on hers.

  She ignored the whisper of relief trickling through her. If she had to split her angst between defining her relationship with Scott, and figuring out what the fuck was going on with Zach, her brain was going to collapse. “You should probably get that.”

  The doorbell rang, followed by another round of pounding. He stood. “Yeah. I guess so.”

  What kind of random visitors did he get on a Saturday afternoon? As soon as the question crossed her mind, she had awkward flashes of the Friday she’d gotten into town, and watching him served with the letter that might as well have been a death sentence.

  Her gut flipped when she saw a FedEx guy in the doorway.

  “Letter for Scott McAllister. Can you sign?”

  Scott reached for the digital clipboard. “Sure.”

  The man in purple studied the signature for a second. “Last name?”

  “McAllister?”

  “Great. Thanks.” He handed over the envelope and was gone.

  Scott’s frown deepened when he looked at her.

  She smiled, but the expression faded again quickly. It was just a coincidence, right? A random delivery that had nothing to do with bad news? The DM logo glared at her from across the room. “I'm starting to think you shouldn’t take any more overnight letter deliveries.”

  He raised an eyebrow and then shook his head. He flopped down on the couch next to her and dropped the envelope into his lap. The soft overhead lights glared off the stark white card stock.

  The silence sank in, a heavy buzz growing in Rae’s ears. Finally, she nudged his arm with her shoulder. “You have to open it sometime. It’s just a letter.”

  He nodded but still didn’t move.

  She didn’t blame him. Even her gut churned at the idea of what might be in there, and she wasn’t one of them. After the week of downs they’d had, she wouldn’t want to see what the parent company said either. She took the letter from his lap and yanked the pull strip. The tearing sound echoed in the emptiness. She dropped the contents into her hand, and the embossed letterhead glinted in the light.

  It took willpower not to read it herself, but this wasn’t for her. She handed the short stack of papers back to Scott, then tucked her hands into her lap.

  He muttered as he read and had his phone out within minutes.

  She rose. “I should go.”

  He tugged her wrist, and she dropped back onto the couch. “This won’t take long. Hey,” he said into the phone. “You get this?”

  She hovered at the edge of the cushion, not having to ask who he was talking to. So awkward.

  Scott set the phone on the coffee table. “At least they're still paying us.” His joke sounded forced. “I mean, the suspension is only temporary, right?”

  “For now.” Zach’s voice echoed from the speakerphone. “You haven’t shown the layoff list to anyone, have you?”

  Rae’s back went rigid. Now was definitely her cue to leave.

  Scott shook his head, brow furrowed. “Just a sec,” he whispered to her. In a normal volume he said, “I just got it. Who would I show?” He stood and paced while he talked, socks shuffling against plush carpet.

  “I don’t know. Anyone else who might have a personal stock in that list. Or someone who knows the people on it.”

  The sick feeling grew in Rae’s stomach. Part of it was attached to Zach’s response; he was talking about her. But the rest of it hadn’t found a reason yet.

  “I don’t have to show you,” Scott said to the phone. “You already know.” He gave Rae a weak smile and a wink.

  “Clever. Just, maybe this once, keep it between us?” There was a surrender in the plea that surprised Rae.

  “I’m not stupid.” Scott wouldn’t look at her.

  And her ill feeling grew. A layoff list they wouldn’t tell her about. Chloe.

  “We need a plan,” Scott said.

  Zach made a noise that landed somewhere between a growl and a hiss. “We have a plan. Cash out, walk away. There’s a decent severance offer for them, and they’re all talented people.”

  “That’s not a plan. It’s retreat.” Scott’s hands clenched into fists.

  “Semantics.” Zach spat the word. “Call it cut-and-run, if you want. It’s our only option.”

  Rae’s thoughts tilted and dipped, weighted with concern for her sister. She only half registered the volatile conversation. At least Rae could be here in person for Chloe.

  “We can’t fix it.” Zach sounded exhausted. “What are the you missing about the term hostile takeover? It’s not our company anymore.”

&nb
sp; Scott flopped back against the couch cushions. There was a resignation in his voice that had never been there before. “Yeah, same old shit. We’ll do what we have to Monday.”

  “You’re sure?” Zach asked.

  Rae frowned, hating the surrender. She should stop by the grocery store on the way back to Chloe’s. Stock up on ice cream. Plan on her sister crashing hard when she heard the news. When would she find out? Not before Monday, so at least she could enjoy her weekend.

  “Later.” Scott leaned forward and disconnected the phone. He dropped his head into his hands. “This sucks.”

  Rae didn’t know what to do besides agree.

  RAE HAD NO IDEA WHERE she was going. Not home. Her afternoon with Scott tanked hardcore. She wasn’t in the mood to sit in Chloe’s apartment and stare blankly at the TV. Besides, she needed to collect herself before she saw her sister again. This wasn’t her news to deliver, and Rae wasn’t sure she could keep it to herself in her current frame of mind.

  She navigated her car mindlessly through the streets. Her already scattered thoughts fragmented further when she realized she’d landed less than a block from Zach’s house. She wouldn’t know where he lived, but Chloe had pointed it out once as they drove through the affluent neighborhood on the side of the mountain.

  What was she doing here? It’s not as though a face-to-face conversation will change things. So why wasn’t she turning around and heading in the opposite direction?

  There had to be something they’d missed. Scott wasn’t any help on that front. He wanted to fix things but had no ideas. Maybe it was time to approach it from a different angle. She had no idea what she was going to say to Zach, but she knocked anyway.

  The door swung open, and he stood on the other side. His body was rigid, his words clipped. “I’m just going to assume, given the convenient timing, that you know about the layoffs. Did he call you the minute he hung up with me?”

  “I was already at his place.”

  He rolled his eyes and stepped aside. “So much for keeping things quiet. Fair warning. I love Scott dearly, but I can’t deal with the denial anymore. Cord is over. And if you’re here to reinforce his delusions, so is this conversation.”