Maybe Megan was right…
“What about me? What about what I want? What I need?”
“Lucy, don’t blow this out of proportion-”
“What? You know I told you about this six months ago.”
“I know, but plans change. This is a really important step in my career. I’m sorry it means I’m going to have to let you down, but I’ll make it up to you. I promise. Oh, hey, my boss is coming. We’ll talk when you get home.” Matthew ended the call abruptly, leaving Lucy staring at her phone, tears trickling down her face.
Opening a new text message, she typed quickly.
No need to talk. We’re over. I’m done. As she hit send, she realized she meant it. Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears she put into their relationship despite it never really being the relationship she truly wanted, and all for what? Constantly being let down or made to feel second best to his career. He had never been her first choice, but she was loyal and had never once even considered cheating.
Maybe she should have been more honest with the both of them and ended things sooner, but she’d been scared to be alone. It was a ridiculous reason to not only settle for a relationship with someone, never mind stay with someone, and now she really was done. Six years. All that wasted time. Her sadness mixed with rage as a long chapter of her life ended. Lucy tucked her phone into her back pocket and turned around.
“Lucy? Are you okay?” Jenson sounded worried.
Of course, he would be there to see her in a mess.
She wiped her hand over her face, trying to hold back a sob. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He looked so concerned and it made him even more beautiful to her, and also the exact person she didn’t want to see at that very moment.
“I broke up with Matthew. He isn’t coming to the wedding,” she blurted out.
“Lucy…” He took a step toward her, but she shook her head to stop him.
“Aren’t you going to say ‘I told you so’?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Everything – my life, my career, my relationship – is falling apart. I don’t want to hear any bullshit responses like ‘I’m sorry’.”
Jenson took another step closer to her, holding out his arms, offering comfort. Lucy matched him with a step back to avoid the football that flew between them. Neither of them took much notice of the kid who called out an apology.
“You said it yourself. I should never have agreed to this. I should have just said no.” She wanted him to leave; she didn’t know if she’d be able to resist him when he was looking at her like that. She started to take another step backward and Jenson’s eyes widened.
He lunged to grab her. “Lucy!”
It was too late. Due to her avoiding the football, and stepping away from Jenson, the heel of her boot didn’t make contact with the ground below her foot. Instead, she continued to fall until she broke the surface of the pool and sank to the bottom. The sensation of feeling free as she floated was overwhelming and, for a split-second, she imagined staying there forever. Her best friend was moving on, her career was a complete mess, and her relationship was over. Things with Jenson were complicating everything and she was seriously regretting agreeing to travel with him. It was all too much and Lucy was close to giving up.
A large splash hit the water nearby; Jenson’s arms wrapped around her waist and forced her up above the surface of the water.
She pushed and shoved at him, trying to get away from his hold that felt too much like an embrace.
“Let me go!”
“Lucy, stop!”
“Let me go, please!”
He pulled her over to the side of the pool, until they were both in the shallow end.
“Why wouldn’t you let me go?” she asked.
“Because, you can’t swim.” His answer felt like a punch to her stomach.
“You remember…”
“Lucy…”
“No! You’re not going to make excuses this time. You remember, don’t you?”
Jenson nodded, just once.
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
At that one-word answer, she jerked away from him, got out of the pool, and headed for the lobby door. Before she entered, she turned back to him. “I’m going to our room to change, and then I’m going to get drunk. Don’t wait up for me.”
“Lucy, please-”
“Don’t wait up.”
She stormed away as hot, bitter tears welled up in her stinging eyes.
Five minutes after leaving the room she and Jenson had booked, Lucy had passed half a dozen bars. Thinking to herself that the small town with only one hotel seemed to have either a problem with, or a fondness for drinking, she picked one after seeing a female bartender through the window and entered. For two hours, she sat at the bar, swallowing drink after drink.
“You don’t look like you’re from round here, sweetheart.” A man, slightly older than her, spoke from his bar stool at the other end of the bar and made Lucy jump. He didn’t look too much of a creep.
“I’m from out of town.”
“Figures. You must be staying at the mansion that was converted into a fancy bed and breakfast. We don’t got girls as pretty as you round here.”
Feeling uncomfortable, Lucy blurted out that she wasn’t there for companionship. Shrugging, the man moved a seat closer to the one she’d claimed, leaving a single, empty bar stool between them.
“I’m Robert. Why don’t you fill me in with what’s got you so down? You’ve been here for a couple of hours, and no one drinks alone for so long unless they’re upset.”
“Have you been watching me?”
“Nah, I asked Frankie there.” Robert indicated the bartender; a middle-aged brunette with a kind face who nodded back at Robert. “She’s a pal of mine.” Turning to face Frankie, Robert called out for a fresh drink for Lucy. Frankie turned to her, asking what she’d like.
“A rum and coke, please.”
“That’s a fun drink for a fun girl, I hope.”
The poured drink was placed in front of her. Rather than pick it up and drink it, Lucy merely ran her fingertip around the lip of the glass as she stared down at the brown liquid.
“Let me guess, you’ve got boy problems? That’s the only reason a pretty girl like you would be wasting her time in a bar like this.” Robert glanced out of the window, causing Lucy to follow his eyes. It was already dark outside.
“Something like that,” she muttered looking back down at the drink in front of her.
“Anything I can provide assistance with?”
“Does that line honestly ever work? Just because you bought me a drink doesn’t mean-” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Frankie the bartender hovering in case Robert got too much for Lucy to handle.
“I’m joking, sweetheart. Relax.” Robert smiled at her. “Well, mostly, anyway.” His eyes moved from her face and fixed on something over her shoulder, toward the door behind her. “Well, it looks like whoever you’ve been hidin’ from found you. Just remember this; the right man will always appreciate you. And, if it doesn’t work out, you know where to find me.”
He passed Lucy a napkin with what looked like a phone number scribbled in black ink before turning away, moving back to his original seat and starting up a conversation with Frankie. His advice was sound. Shame it hadn’t been given to her before her relationship with Matthew started.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Lucy turned her attention back to her untouched drink. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Jenson slid into a bar stool two seats away.
“Whiskey and water, please,” he ordered from Frankie.
A few heartbeats passed as Lucy realized Jenson hadn’t acknowledged her yet. The chances of him picking the same bar as her were slim to none. She turned her head to look at him properly; he looked exhausted.
His eyes were tired, and his hair was messier than she’d ever seen it, as if he’d been running his hands through it continuously, and he looked like
he’d been walking for hours. Lucy felt both guilty and annoyed. Guilty because she’d told him not to wait up for her, but he did and came looking for her anyway. Annoyed for the same reasons. Why couldn’t he have listened to her?
“My phone died. It was in my pocket when I fell into the pool,” she said to him, just to say something.
“I figured as much.” His reply was terse, but not unkind.
Lucy smoothed back her hair, the movement reminding her exactly how much alcohol she’d drunk throughout the course of the afternoon.
“How did you find me?”
“This is the fifth bar I’ve been to.”
“I didn’t want you coming to look for me.”
“Well, I did.”
At those three words, her annoyance at him not respecting her wishes faded.
“I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.” She turned to face him fully. “It felt like my entire life was falling apart around me. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And that dang football didn’t help”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Lucy snorted. “You know, out of all the people I imagined myself talking to about my problems, you were never one of them. No offence.”
“None taken.” Jenson’s smile was tired, but real.
Lucy didn’t know where to start. How seeing Jenson again after so long made her question her entire relationship with Matthew? How she was jealous of Megan moving on with her life, even if it was without her, and doing well in her chosen career? Maybe she should start with something a little lighter…
“I had my first ever gallery show last month; one I’d been planning for my entire life. It was a total flop. I sold nothing. People have been telling me for forever that art isn’t something people succeed at – at least not while they’re alive. That I would struggle, I wouldn’t make ends meet, but I was stubborn.” She took a breath, getting her thoughts clearer in her mind. “I was so sure of myself and my ability until that moment. With my name in lights, so to speak, watching all those people pass by my art without stopping – I realized how true everything I’d been told was, that everyone was right. I wasn’t going to be the one to succeed.”
Taking a large gulp of her drink, Lucy hoped the alcohol would numb her misery, even though it hadn’t up until then.
“The sad part is that it took me this long to realize I’m wasting my life. To discover I’ve thrown away so many years of my life on a pipe dream. I’ve studied different art forms – sculpting, painting, all of it, and nothing I do seems to work.”
Jenson watched her intently, his arms crossed on the bar top, and his body slightly angled toward her.
“Does creating art make you happy?” he asked, something she’d never been asked before, by anyone. Not her parents, not Matthew. She didn’t know if she knew the answer. Even though she didn’t receive the recognition from her show, didn’t make a single cent…
“Yes, it does.” She thought about the hours she’d lost herself in her work, the times she’d been able to ignore the world around her and just… create. It was her happy place, where she went to escape reality, hide from her plain and unfulfilling relationship, get over the aches and pains of her ‘real’ job of waiting tables.
“Then it’s worth it.” He smiled at her, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners which made Lucy’s heart pound. She couldn’t understand why he would be interested in her happiness. “Even if it doesn’t pay your rent or other bills, it makes you happy, helps you deal with having to be an adult. Yes, I’d say that it was worth it.”
“What makes you happy, Jenson?”
He looked down at his glass, swirling his drink around. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” There was a tone to his voice she couldn’t quite place.
“Try me.”
As he looked back up at her, Lucy noticed how clear his eyes were. They were sparkling despite the dim lighting in the bar. She waited for him to answer her question, not quite sure what he was going to say.
“You do, Lucy Duncan. You make me happy.” He reached out and touched her cheek gently. “Seeing you again has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
Lucy felt as if the bar had shifted, and the world around her had tilted on its axis. The room was spinning, and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She didn’t recognize the intense feeling she was suddenly experiencing. She wasn’t as naïve as she once was, but put most of it down to the amount of alcohol she’d drunk.
She was suddenly glad she agreed to going on the trip with Jenson, despite all their arguments. Not only had it been the taste of adventure she’d always wanted, but it had forced her to assess her life and what she wanted from it. Even better, she got to do all that with Jenson, the one boy she could never forget.
It was time to make amends with him.
“I’m sorry I said all those things to you earlier. I didn’t mean them; I didn’t mean any of it.”
Rather than respond, Jenson startled her by placing a finger on her lips to stop her. He stood, pulled some notes from his wallet, and tossed them onto the bar in Frankie’s general direction. “Let’s get out of here and get some sleep.”
His large presence seemed to set all her senses alight, from every hair on her body to every drop of her blood. She could finally be honest with herself; she still wanted him, more than ever.
“I wanted to hate you, but never could,” she admitted.
“I know.”
Stumbling off the bar stool, Lucy dragged her bag off the bar.
“I don’t hate you, Jenson Phillips, and that scares the hell out of me.”
He moved across the room to the door and pulled it open before turning to look back at her.
“I don’t hate you either, Lucy Duncan. I never have.”
* * *
Walking together through the dark town, Lucy was hyper aware of how close Jenson was to her. She could feel the heat radiating off him, seeping through her clothes. Occasionally, his hand brushed against hers and she had to resist the urge to link their hands, to curl her fingers around his, to physically feel the connection that had been between them for years.
“I don’t recognize where we are. Are we going the right way?” she asked, realizing she’d had a little too much to drink.
“It’s definitely this way.” Jenson’s voice was full of confidence as he placed his hand against the small of her back, guiding her along an uneven path. As Lucy struggled to walk, instantly thankful she hadn’t worn high heels, Jenson grabbed Lucy’s hand to steady her. His grip was warm and firm, yet gentle at the same time, and the feeling was better than she had imagined moments before. She realized then how much she trusted him to keep her safe, how much she always had, even though she hadn’t seen him for so long. There was something about Jenson Phillips that made her feel protected. For all his faults, he’d always looked out for his friends and family, ever since he was just her best friend’s older brother.
Having made their way back to the bed and breakfast in one piece, Lucy looked around the room they’d booked. It looked the same as it did earlier. Her backpack was propped against the wall and a single, king-sized bed dominated the rest of the space.
“Bathroom is all yours. I’ll wait for you to get ready before I go and clean up.” Jenson sat on the edge of the bed, his long legs sprawled out in front of him as he watched Lucy. He looked into her eyes, down to her shirt, then down to her feet – which were very much not moving in the direction of the bathroom. Instead, her feet carried her towards him. Within seconds, she was standing between his legs.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I just know that I really don’t want to think anymore.” She sank her knees onto the patch of bed between his thighs and leaned forward. For the first time in a long time, they were face-to-face. “I’m scared by how much I want you.”
In response to her declaration, Jenson let out a harsh breath, his voice a soft growl. “Lu
cy.” But, he was unable to control himself. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him as he buried his nose into her hair. “How many drinks have you had?”
“Not enough to matter.” She pressed her face against his stubbled jaw, inhaling his clean scent. “Kiss me, Jenson.”
Before she was able to move further, Jenson lifted her and threw her onto the bed, placing a soft kiss against her forehead. Lucy couldn’t help but grab hold of his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer, but he jumped to his feet and raked his hands through his hair, his chest heaving as if he was out of breath.
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
His rejection made her mouth taste as if it’d been filled with ash. Every feeling of want inside her turned into embarrassment and nausea.
Lucy rolled over to the edge of the bed and sat up, her stomach churning.
“Lucy, are you okay?”
Despite the concern in his voice, all Lucy could think about was how he didn’t want her. She took a few deep breaths to shift the bile rising in her throat. Only when she felt she won’t throw up did she speak.
“I couldn’t be better.”
Without looking at him, she got to her feet and walked over to her backpack to remove some clothing. As she rummaged through her stuff, she berated herself for showing vulnerability in front of him, for admitting she still had feelings for him. For believing him when he said she made him happy.
Lucy took a long time in the shower, trying to wash every inch of her skin that Jenson had touched. By the time she re-entered the bedroom, he was lying on the chair in the corner of the room with a pillow. He didn’t have a blanket. The only cover providing any warmth was the jacket he’d placed over her only the night before, and she couldn’t care.
Jenson
The chair was uncomfortable, but not as bad as the tightness in the jeans he hadn’t removed. More than anything, he wanted to strip his clothes off and slide into the huge bed next to Lucy. Refusing her advances was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. It would have been so easy to kiss her, sleep with her, and hold her, but she was drunk. There was no way in hell he was going to go that far with a woman who could barely stand.
Her Best Friend’s Brother Page 11