by Liz Lovelock
“Hello.” Paislee snaps her fingers in my face.
Shaking my head, I say, “Sorry, got caught in my thoughts.”
“It’s okay. Do you want me to come to your place to help you get ready this weekend?”
“I’d really appreciate that. I probably need some new clothes if I’m being honest.” I give a small grin, and at the same time, her face lights up and Dane groans.
“Don’t give her the shopping power. She’ll make you spend more than you want to.” If only he knew I needed a whole new wardrobe. No more skirts for this girl.
“That’s okay. I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
Paislee claps excitedly. “Perfect! I’ll get the girls together, and we can go shopping on Thursday. Are you okay with that?”
I nod as excitement rushes through me. I’m going shopping with friends. Goodness, if I said half this stuff out loud, they’d probably think I’m some crazy girl.
New life. New me.
Stepping through the door, Mom yells for Grace, and Beau is screaming—and not in a good way. It pierces my ears. Placing my bags down, I go looking for my brother.
“Beau, where are you, little man?” I call. He steps out from behind the couch, his face red and blotchy with tears still streaming down his rosy cheeks. “Hey, what’s wrong?” I step toward him with my arms open, and he runs into them. Lifting his little body, I rest him on my hip and go in search of her. “Mom?”
“In the bathroom,” she calls back.
Turning to Beau, I say, “Come on.” He snuggles his face into my neck, his little hiccup sniffles slowly subsiding.
I enter the bathroom then stop in my tracks. Drops of blood paint the floor, and Mom is fussing over Grace.
“What happened?” I’m unable to hide the shock in my voice.
Mom presses a washcloth to Grace’s head and turns to me. Her face is flushed. She sighs. “This is what happens when a toddler hits his sister in the head with a toy truck that is supposed to be outside.” She sighs again and gives Beau a stern mother’s look. He nuzzles deeper into my neck.
“Oh, dear. Are you okay, Gracie?” I ask.
She sniffles. “Yes, it’s okay.” A sob escapes her.
“I’ll take Beau for a walk if you want?”
Mom’s eyes meet mine, and she smiles. “I’d really appreciate you doing that. Thank you.”
After grabbing some snacks and placing Beau into the stroller, I head for the park down the road. There’s a great playground there for the kids. Well, that’s what Grace has told me. I’ve still yet to bring her here. I’ve been too caught up in my own head to actually take in some things. It was like today in class. Everything went by in a blur. I don’t remember the lessons or what I need to do.
“Og, og,” Beau shouts and points to a dog and its owner, walking down the opposite side of the street.
“That’s right. Dog,” I say.
After arriving at the park, I take Beau from the stroller and let him run off. I keep a close eye on him; I’d hate for something to happen to him on my watch. My gaze shifts over the playground and field beside it. Little boys and girls run, squeal, jump, and skip over the equipment and chase balls in the field.
“Charity?”
I freeze. Him again. Twice in one day. Jase.
Shifting on the bench, I turn to face him. A red ball cap covers his blond hair, but once again, those eyes do something to my insides. They dance. “Oh, it’s you,” I say politely, adding in a smile.
He gestures to the seat. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
My hands tremble in my lap, but I turn my attention back to Beau who is sliding down a slide. “Ah, sure, if you want. It’s a free world.”
He chuckles, taking a seat beside me, but he’s sure to keep some space between us. He’s so huge, a hulky figure—his entire body is pure muscle. And those arms. Damn, don’t even get me started. I take in his outfit: black running shorts and an orange tee. His arms are way too big for the sleeves. A grin tugs at my lips at the thought.
He screams sexy, hot, and every girl’s fantasy. One heated look from him and women would be fainting at his feet. My heart races triple its regular rate.
“Are you looking for a quick getaway?”
I snap my head to face him, my eyes wide. “What? No. I was simply checking the time. Are you stalking me?” I cock an eyebrow.
His mouth twitches then he says, “No, I was heading out for a run and caught sight of you. I wanted to talk.” He pauses a moment before saying, “Do you really not remember me?”
I turn my attention back to Beau, who seems to have made friends with another little boy. They’re running around, holding hands, laughing, and they climb up the slide, and he follows his new friend. Do I tell him the truth? Swallowing my pride, I decide it’s better to do the right thing than lie. I’m not my father. “Of course I remember you.” I sigh.
“Then why did you act like you didn’t know me?”
I close my eyes. I was hoping to avoid this line of questioning a bit longer. Yet, here we are. I could simply walk away, but I won’t.
We shift and face each other. I soak up the calm aroma that emanates from him. I catch his hand flexing open and shut. Could he be just as nervous as I am over this conversation?
Biting the bullet, I finally say, “It doesn’t feel good being forgotten, does it?” The words are like venom dripping from my tongue. His head draws back. Those electric-blue eyes darken a little.
Shaking his head, he holds up his hands. “Wait, what? You’re the one who dropped off the face of the earth.”
“Pfft. Do you really think I would have wanted to go with my dad if I had known what my life would have been like living under his roof?” I snap.
“What do you mean? Did something happen?” He reaches for me, and I rear back from his touch. I don’t deserve it or want it. I’m damaged, broken. I’m not about to tell Jase that, though; I don’t want his or anyone else’s pity.
I stand abruptly. Jase follows my movements.
“No,” I lie. “It’s not your concern. I’m not your concern. You decided a long time ago that I wasn’t worth your time and forgot me.”
“No, that’s not right. I—”
“Just stop,” I cut him off, my voice raising a little, and I can’t hide the shake to my words. “Jase, please don’t.” I hold my hand up. “Now isn’t the time. I don’t want to delve into my life over the last ten years. I’m not ready for that.”
“Harity, I hungry.” Beau’s little voice pulls me back from the dark road I was beginning to walk down.
“Okay, buddy, here’s some fruit.” After picking him up, I put him in his stroller and hand him the pieces of apple I’d chopped up for him. “Hey, Ase.” My hands freeze as I realize Beau knows Jase. It doesn’t stop the laugh; it sounded like he just called Jase an ass.
He chuckles. “Hey, Beau. How are those apples?”
“Good,” Beau says clearly.
I face Jase again. The grin on his face is wicked, yet it draws me in. I’m sure he gets whoever and whenever he wants. “You two old friends?” I ask.
He shrugs. “You could say that. We’ve played at the park a few times. I’ll be running some laps, and he’ll join me.”
“Isn’t there a campus field for that?”
“Yeah, but sometimes getting away from that place is good for the soul. Especially the soul that already has so much pressure thrust upon it.”
“You? Pressure? Yeah, right. I’m sure you’re the golden boy on campus.”
He shuffles his feet. “It’s not like I asked for that. I can’t help that my brother made it to the pros with his football career, and now everyone expects the same of me. But that’s a story for another time. Perhaps I’ll share my story when you’re ready to talk to me about what happened to you over the years.”
I take an apple from Beau and pop it in my mouth with a crunch. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon.” Hopefully, not ever.
“Well, can we start over? Friends?” He holds out his hand, and I take it.
“Friends.” I smile, but trepidation lurches in my stomach.
How do I stop myself from falling for him now? It was easier being mad at him.
That smile—I’m not so sure it’s genuine. There’s pain hidden behind it, and as much as I want to probe and get all the answers, it’s not going to be an easy task.
“Well, I better get going. I’m meeting a friend shortly,” I say. Paislee is going to kill me for being late, but I’m sure once I tell her why, she’ll understand.
“Yeah. I’ll see you around.” Charity’s back is turned to me. She’s closed off and hard to reach. What did she go through?
Deciding it’s better to leave than push her, I reluctantly jog off. It was a coincidence that I’d caught her here. I was ready to talk to her tomorrow about everything, but judging by how that just went, it’s going to take more than one conversation to knock down the walls she’s clearly put up.
I catch Paislee waiting for me at the end of the street. She’s dressed in her runners, tights, and one of Dane’s shirts. I swear she wears his clothes more than her own.
“You do realize you’re late?” she snaps while tapping her watch.
“I know, I know. I ran into a friend. Sorry.” This has become a routine of ours of late. At least three times a week, we jog together. Usually, it ends with her finishing early, and I keep going on my own.
“Speaking of friends, I ran into an old one of mine today. I think she’d be perfect for you. I want to set you up on a blind date.” She winks before taking off down the side street. With my long strides, it doesn’t take much to catch up to her.
“I’m not into blind dates; they always end in disaster.” We match pace. I slow mine so she can keep up with me.
“Come on, trust me. This is one that will end well. It has to,” she puffs out.
“Who is it?”
“I’m not telling you. It wouldn’t be a blind date if I did.” She slaps me on the arm.
“I must not be the dating kind of guy; I don’t seem to be right for anyone. Every girl I date always wants only one thing, and I’m not that guy, as much as people may think I am.” I take some breaths and concentrate on the pavement.
Paislee is silent. I’m beginning to wonder if this is where she’s going to bail on me. She slows to a walk, and I follow suit. “You have to stop thinking like that. You’re not that guy. I know it. But you allow yourself to be shoved into the friend zone corner. How about you start fighting for whoever it is you want.” She shrugs.
She’s right. How do I make that work for me, though? “Maybe I’m just not meeting the right girls.”
“That’s a possibility as well.”
“Hey, how would I get a girl who has built a wall to open up to me?” I ask.
Paislee’s face turns. “What do you mean? You want help getting her to open up to you?”
“Yeah. She’s very closed off. Hard to talk to.”
“How well do you know this girl?”
I shrug. Not really at all anymore. I’m not going to tell her that, though. “Only a little.”
“Who is she?”
“I’m not telling you since you won’t tell me who you plan to set me up on a date with.” I waggle my eyebrows teasingly.
“You’re no fun. But in answer to your question, I guess you just have to keep trying with this girl. If you give up, then she isn’t going to come to you. Show her you care. That you’re there for her,” Paislee says and then takes off at a sprint. I give her a moment to get ahead a little and then go after her.
Giving Charity the space she needs seems like a better idea, but I see what Paislee is meaning. Trying is better than not. I want Charity to talk to me, to let me back into her life.
When I finally get home, the sun has completely set. The familiar black truck in the driveway of the football house causes me to groan.
“Damn. Not the man I want to see tonight,” I mutter. Hearing his voice causes a rush of anger to flare inside my chest. I drag my feet to the front door and begrudgingly push my way through.
“Jase, son, where have you been?” He stalks toward me. I stand taller than my father, but of course, he has me and Lachlan, his successful son, bending over backwards to achieve the things he couldn’t. Why do parents do this kind of thing to their kids? Always pushing them to do what they couldn’t.
I drop my gaze to my runners then glance back up at him. “What does it look like I’ve been doing?” I gesture to myself.
“Don’t be a smart mouth, son. Why weren’t you at training today?”
Here we go.
“I had schoolwork to finish. If I don’t do my work, I can’t actually play on the team, so schoolwork comes first sometimes,” I say, stepping around him.
“Training and football are priorities for you, Jase. We’ve spoken about this.”
I roll my eyes as I walk past Blane, who appears to be working on his laptop with headphones on. He’s totally listening in. At least he doesn’t have a father like mine who demands everything be his way.
After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I twist the cap and swallow two mouthfuls before speaking again. “Dad, I understand what you want. What if football isn’t what I want?”
Blane’s head shoots up, his eyes wide. I knew that would grab his attention.
Dad rubs the bridge of his nose then turns his glare on me. “Your mother and I have put everything into our boys. Why do you have to be so defiant? We’re not asking much. Look at Lachlan; he’s got a great career and is succeeding. We want the same for you.”
If only he knew how much screwing around Lachlan actually did. It’s only a matter of time before he messes something up, and then Dad’s attention will be turned on him again.
“I know what you and Mom want. You want two golden boys who bring in the money for you, achieving the dreams you never could,” I say through gritted teeth. I don’t want to deal with him and his constant pushing. The more pushing he does, the more I want to pull away from it all.
Dad crosses his arms over his broad chest, resting them on his slight beer belly. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” He turns his back to me and walks out. I cringe as he slams the door. A sigh escapes me.
“Is that true? You don’t want to play? I thought for sure you would live and breathe football,” Blane says, placing his headphones down and eyeing me with skepticism.
“Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy the game, and perhaps I do want to go pro, but I want to do it because it’s what I want—not what the man in the suit wants. I saw how much he rode Lachlan. Now it’s my turn, and I’m not going to let him walk all over me.”
“Gee, tense much?” Blane teases, laughing. “You need to find yourself a woman to take away some of this tension that’s rolling off you.”
After finishing my water, I screw the lid back on and toss the bottle at him. “Shut up. I’m heading for a shower. Order some food.”
“You got it, Cap.” He salutes me. Rolling my eyes, I walk away. Perhaps he’s right about the finding-a-woman thing.
Pulling my cell from my armband, I shoot a message to Paislee.
Jase: Okay, I’ll go on the blind date. What’s her number?
The last couple of days have flown by, and now I’m walking around a shop with some very out-there girls who want to try on every piece of clothing in the store. Paislee has brought her two friends with her: Addison, who is her brother’s girlfriend, and Elsie. Apparently, she has an Australian boyfriend. I’d love to meet him—those accents are awesome.
I’ve been staring at this navy-blue dress covered in daisies. It’s long and flowing. Mom gave me money to grab some things. I’m guessing she noticed the bags of clothes I tossed out yesterday after going through everything I own. Every single good-girl skirt I owned I put in the large black garbage bag, ready for Goodwill. I never want to see anything like those again. This dress is fitted to the waist, an
d then it drops to the floor. It’s everything my father would go against. I love it.
“Oh, that is gorgeous. Are you going to get it?” Addison asks while she reaches out and touches the fabric. I take the one in my size from the rack.
“Yeah, I really like it,” I say while grinning at the piece of fabric that’s bringing me new joy.
“You should see these cute shirts,” Paislee calls from another section in the clothing store. Slowly, I make my way to where she is and soak up all the other pieces of clothing along the way. I really want more jeans and some shorts, because I don’t have any.
When I finally find her, she’s holding a stunning satin, light-pink top with lace covering the shoulders.
“Wow, it’s beautiful,” I breathe as I take it from her hands and check the size is right.
“That will be perfect for your blind date.” She winks.
“What blind date? I didn’t agree to anything of the sort.”
Paislee groans. “Why not? It’ll be fun. You can meet someone new and, who knows, maybe hit it off.”
“I’m not so sure I want to,” I say as I lay the top over the top on my arm, ready to take them to the register.
Paislee’s hands shoot out and wrap around my arm. “Pllleeeease,” she begs. “I can beg; I can go all night with this. Just give him one shot. I’ll give you his number, and you can contact him, or would you like me to give him yours?”
Neither is preferable, is what I want to say. Instead, an image of my father flashes in my mind. I’ve been on lockdown for so long, and now is my time to shine. Screw all the rules my father implemented. He’s not here anymore. “Fine. You get him to message me. At least then I won’t feel like I’m pressuring him.”
“Oh, he’s keen; he’s already told me so, and I’ve already given him your number. I can give him the go-ahead now.” She claps excitedly. I’m too stunned to process what she just said. She’s already given my number to him? Before I can say anything, she says, “Perfect! You’ll hear from him.” She pauses a moment and pulls her phone out. Her fingers move like lightning over the screen, and then she slips it away into her pocket and looks around the rest of the store. “Okay, girls, let’s go to the next shop.”
