The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  I’ve never known anyone like her. Most of the women I’ve met were trust fund brats living off their good looks and Daddy’s money. All they cared about was partying and one-upping their friends. But not her. She’s doing something with her life. Making a difference. Today, I was regaled with story after story about how many of these families would have fallen apart if it wasn’t for the help of her charity. The amount of respect I’ve gained for her is immeasurable. She genuinely cares about these people.

  It has me wondering what led her to create it. I want to lay under that tree for hours with her head on my chest, listening to her tell me about her life. And I want to share things with her about mine.

  A hand slaps me from behind dragging me kicking and screaming from my daydream.

  “Hey dickhead,” Mike says, tossing a greasy napkin on the picnic table. I scoop it up with annoyance, stuffing it in the trash bag.

  “What the hell happened to you last night?” I ask, alone with him for the first time since yesterday.

  “Aww, man. Sorry about that. I was talking to this chick and her biker boyfriend showed up with a bunch of his friends and got all pissed off. It’s cool though. I ended up hooking up with her friend instead. I’m going now to meet her.”

  “You’re leaving?” I’m surprised he isn’t sticking around to help me work Nyla. Not that I care. I’d rather he go.

  “Fuck, yeah. I can only take being around these retards for so long.” He shudders like he is disgusted by their very existence.

  “Don’t call them that. What the hell is the matter with you? Do you have any idea how offensive that is?” I snap, appalled by his insensitivity and lack of awareness. “And watch your mouth. There are kids around.”

  His ignorance astounds me. How we could grow up in the same area, in the same house, and be so different is baffling. In that moment, I realize how much I despise him. Nostalgia and guilt are the only reasons we’re friends, if you can even call us that.

  “Come on, man. You can’t tell me you’d be here if it wasn’t for a job. Admit it, they freak you out too.”

  My teeth clench. I remember how many friends Mason lost because they were ‘freaked out’ by the cancer. Like they’d catch it or something. Little by little, my outgoing, charismatic brother retreated inside himself until his only friends were me and the people he gamed with online. The thought that someone would bully or isolate these kids the same way is both heartbreaking and infuriating. “Actually, I find them pretty damn inspiring.”

  “Whatever, dude. You want to waste your time hanging around here, go for it. Nyla will go home after this. Work and this damn charity shit. That’s all she does. She’s boring as hell. If you need me, I’ll be balls deep in a hot little piece for the rest of the weekend. So, don’t need me.”

  Someone crashes into me from behind, wrapping two thick arms around my waist. I look down to find Mikayla with her eyes closed and her cheek squished against my side hugging me with all her might.

  “Bye, Bocce.”

  “Bye, Mik,” I reply, giving her a gentle squeeze.

  Her innocent green eyes gaze up at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t guess your word. I’m not a very good speller.”

  “That’s okay. You tried your best, right?”

  She nods. “Will you come back again to see me?”

  I run my finger over her button nose making her giggle. “Of course.”

  “Come on, Mikayla. It’s time to go,” her mom says, holding out her hand for Mik to take. Tears form in the corners of the woman’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being so good with her.”

  “It was my pleasure. She’s a sweetheart.” Mikayla tackles me with another hug before accompanying her mother, waving goodbye until they are out of sight.

  “New girlfriend? She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?” Mike snickers. He’s such an asshole. I ignore him and keep cleaning. “Hey, give me that bag.”

  “What? Why?”

  He snatches it from me and grabs some empty plates just as Nyla strolls over to us. “Hey, Nyla. Memphis and I were just cleaning up. Do you need help with anything else?”

  “Thanks, I appreciate you guys doing that.” She cranes her neck around surveying the area. “I think everything else is done. I just have a few things to take to the car.”

  “Mike, go meet your girl. I’ll carry them for her. I have to wait for Colin and Max anyway,” I reply, anxious to get him the hell away from her. Mike shoots me a death glare.

  “Girl?” Nyla asks, cocking a brow.

  “It’s not a girl. I mean it is a girl … but it’s not a date. I’m taking my friend’s daughter to Build-A-Bear for her birthday,” he lies. “But I can stay and help.”

  Nyla rests her hand over her heart. “Aww, that is so sweet. Don’t be silly. There’s not that much left. Memphis and I can manage the rest.”

  “Oh, yeah … okay. I guess I’ll go then.” He hesitates like he’s trying to find an excuse to stay, and I get the weird feeling he doesn’t want me alone with Nyla any more than I want him alone with her. He takes a few steps and stops. “Hey Nyla, what do you say we catch the game at that pub you like on Thursday?”

  What the hell is he doing? Nyla’s eyes flick uncomfortably between Mike and me. “Uh, yeah. Sure. I can’t think of a reason why not.”

  I can. About a hundred and fifty of them.

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What time should we be there?” I add, draping an arm around Nyla. She bites her lip, knowing exactly what I’m doing.

  “Oh … um … I meant … I was thinking it would be…” Mike stammers.

  “Probably about six-thirty,” Nyla answers for him, trying to keep a straight face.

  “That sounds great. Alright, have fun with your friend’s daughter. Bye.” I smile smugly, grabbing the trash bag back from him. I swear if Nyla bites her lip any harder, she’s going to draw blood. With no argument left, Mike sulks off.

  Nyla bumps me with her hip. “You’re bad.”

  “I never said I wasn’t.”

  “You knew he was trying to ask me out.”

  “Yep,” I reply without the slightest bit of remorse.

  “What if I wanted to go with him?”

  I deposit the trash into the can and step in front of her. “If you wanted to go out with him, you wouldn’t have let me bully my way onto your date.”

  “So, you admit you bullied your way on?”

  “Absolutely. And you’re welcome.”

  “Welcome?”

  “Yes. I was saving you. I know you don’t date guys from the office,” I reply, throwing her own rule back at her. Without thought, my fingers brush her ponytail from her shoulder. “But when you do finally date one, I think we both know it’s not going to be Mike.” I hoist up a box filled with games and toys onto my shoulder. “Ready?”

  She smirks, picking up a lighter box. “I’m curious. Is it hard to find hats to fit a head that big?”

  As we start walking, Colin jogs over with the rest of the group trailing behind. “Hey, need any help?”

  “Nah, it’s just these two boxes,” Nyla replies. “You guys go ahead.”

  Colin nods and captures Alex by the waist, pulling her into his arms to kiss her goodbye as Max does the same with Jen. Once again, I find myself jealous, wishing I could do the same with Nyla. I gaze over at her and notice she’s looking at the couples in the same longing way.

  We share a commiserating smile. She lifts her box motioning toward the park exit, and we start making our way down the path. “Alex, we’ll meet you and Jen at the car.”

  Colin calls after us. “Memphis don’t forget basketball tomorrow. We’ll probably meet around eleven. I’ll text you the address.”

  I nod and keep trudging along.

  “You’re playing basketball with them?”

  “Yeah. Why? Is that a problem?”

  “No. No problem at all.” She’s
quiet for a moment. “It’s just … I’ve never seen anyone make friends so fast. You’ve made more in a couple days than I have in the last five years.”

  “What can I say? I’m charming.”

  “No. I’m fairly certain that’s not it.”

  “Must be my great ass then. You could bounce a quarter off this thing,” I joke, glancing over my shoulder. “It’s okay. You can look. I know you want to.”

  She laughs at my cockiness. “I’m serious, Memphis. People are drawn to you. Look at Mikayla.”

  “She’s a sweet kid. I’m sure she’s like that with everyone.”

  “No, she’s not. She doesn’t like men,” she responds cryptically as we reach the car. I hold out my hand for her keys and pop the trunk, placing my box in the back, then take Nyla’s from her and do the same.

  I close the lid and pull open the driver side door for her. She slides inside and lowers the window, allowing us to continue our conversation. I crouch down resting my arms on the door. “Do you have plans tonight?”

  “She does,” Jen responds, padding up to the passenger door with Alex. “We’re going to the Joystick to celebrate my birthday. You should come.”

  “Jen!” Nyla chides.

  “What? It’ll be fun.”

  “The Joystick? Is that some male strip club? Because I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” I want to spend time with Nyla, but not at some joint with guys in G-strings shaking their junk in everyone’s face. Although I’m not too keen on the idea of her being there either. The only dick I want Nyla around is mine.

  “Good. You probably wouldn’t like it. Come on guys. Get in,” Nyla says, rushing Jen and Alex along. “Memphis, thanks for helping out today. I’ll see you Monday.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Alex breaks in. “It’s not a strip club. It’s this cool bar where they have all these old arcade games, and air hockey, and …”

  “Karaoke!” Jen chimes in finishing Alex’s sentence. “It’s so much fun! You have to come. You’ve got to hear how awesome we are.”

  “Awesome? Let’s not get carried away,” Nyla teases.

  “Well, I guess Memphis will just have to come and judge for himself, won’t he?” Alex replies, climbing into the front seat after Jen slips into the back.

  “I’m sure Memphis has better things to do than—"

  Jen leans over the seat covering Nyla’s mouth with her hand, “It’s my birthday, and I want you to come. We’ll be there at nine o’clock. Let me see your phone.”

  I retrieve it from my back pocket and hand it to her. She types something in and gives it back to me. “There. I put Nyla’s number in your contacts. Text her when you get there.”

  “Jen!”

  “What?” Jen plays dumb but sneaks me a wink.

  “Sounds good. Should I bring anything?”

  “Earplugs,” Nyla jokes, earning her a dirty look from Alex and Jen.

  I chuckle. “Alright. It’s a date.”

  Nyla shakes her head. “It’s not a date.”

  “Oh, it is so a date.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Goodbye, Memphis.”

  “What, no kiss?” She palms my face, shoving it away and drives off.

  TWELVE

  Never Let Your Guard Down

  The joystick is located in a renovated warehouse, divided into multiple levels filled with old pinball machines, pool tables, and themed bars ranging from Disco to Jazz. There’s something for everyone. After searching around for fifteen minutes without recognizing anyone, I text Nyla and get an immediate reply.

  Top Floor.

  I climb a few flights of stairs until I reach an area blocked off with stanchions and velvet ropes. There’s a sign hanging from a chain that reads: Closed for Private Party. A bodyguard the size of a house stands guard with a Glock on his hip peeking out from under his jacket.

  He holds up a hand as I approach. “This area’s closed.”

  “It’s okay, Tim. He’s with us,” Nyla says, appearing from behind the massive mountain of a man. His rabid dog demeanor is immediately neutralized when he sees her, and he’s reduced to an awkward pile of mush. It’s obvious he’s smitten, and I wonder if there is a man alive she can’t unravel with that smile. He unhooks the rope allowing me access.

  “Sorry about that. I meant to tell him to let you through, but I got sidetracked. Jen made me do a birthday shot. Apparently, I need to loosen up.”

  “No problem. What’s with all the security?” I ask, noticing two more men with earpieces and guns by each of the doors.

  “Colin’s a little paranoid when it comes to Alex’s safety. I can’t blame him after everything they’ve been through. And Max, well, he probably keeps them around to protect himself from Jen.”

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I could see that.”

  The place is decorated with brightly colored balloons and streamers. Candid photos of Jen documenting her life are displayed on easels throughout the room. The pictures range from an old one of the three girls squirting each other with a hose to a more intimate black and white snapshot of Max gazing lovingly at her. A giant “Happy Birthday” banner hangs above a stage and a photo booth with props is off to the side. Max went all out for a party consisting of six people.

  I wonder what it would be like to do this for Nyla.

  We make our way to a table where everyone is gathered laughing and enjoying drinks. Next to them is another table stacked high with gifts. I glance down at the envelope in my hand and question if I would have been better off showing up with nothing, but my mom taught me you never go anywhere empty handed.

  “Memphis!” Jen calls out when she spots me. Her eyes sparkle when she sees the purple paper with her name on it. “Oooo, is that for me? Gimme!”

  “It’s nothing, really. Just something small. Happy birthday.” I force a smile and hand it to her. For the first time in my life, I’m feeling self-conscious. As weird as it sounds, I want to fit in with Nyla and her friends. I want them to think I belong in their world. But I don’t. They’re the real deal with enviable careers, big houses, and even bigger bank accounts. I’m just an imposter playing pretend in fancy suits I stole.

  “Memphis, you didn’t have to do that,” Nyla gushes, clucking her tongue.

  “Yes he did,” Jen teases, tearing open the present. She holds it up for everyone to see. “It’s a gift certificate for each of us to the nail salon. Memphis, this is so nice. How did you know this is the one we use?”

  “Nyla was telling one of the mothers today while we were playing cornhole with the kids. She mentioned you were going to have a girl day tomorrow. I thought maybe you could use them.”

  Nyla takes the gift certificates and flips through them. “Memphis, this is really thoughtful. I can’t believe you were listening. Most guys tune that stuff out.”

  “I listen to everything you say.”

  All three girls let out a simultaneous, “Awwwwww.”

  “Okay, it’s official. He just became my favorite. You have my permission to marry him,” Jen proclaims.

  “Marry him? We haven’t even had our first date.”

  I smirk. “Ah, so you admit there will be a date.”

  “No, I didn’t say … what I meant was …” Nyla stammers, trying to backpedal.

  “Yeah, whataya call this?” Alex chimes in, motioning around with her hand. “Sure looks like a first date to me.”

  “Me too. Now here. Drink up!” Jen hands each girl a shot and shoves some purple concoction in a martini glass at me.

  Nyla sniffs the shot and crinkles her nose. “Tequila? You know I’m not a big drinker.”

  “Yeah, well you’re going to be glad you have it in about two seconds.”

  As if on cue, the DJ’s voice booms over the mic. “Alright, it’s time to get this party started. Let’s bring up our first singers of the night. Alex, Nyla, and Jen, please come to the stage.”

  Nyla shakes her head. “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. You can’t tell me ‘no.’ It’
s my birthday.”

  Nyla’s gulps down the shot, shuddering from the taste, and mouths ‘help’ to me as Jen and Alex each grab an arm and drag her to the stage. “I apologize in advance for this!” she yells.

  I laugh and take a seat at the table angling my chair forward to get a better view. Colin takes the purple frou-frou drink from me and hands me a beer. Max immediately replaces that with a tumbler filled with amber liquid.

  “Trust me. You’re going to need that if you’re going to listen to them sing all night.”

  “He’s right,” Colin agrees.

  “Really? They’re that bad?”

  Colin picks at the label on his beer with his fingernail. “Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard a female cat screeching when she’s in heat?”

  Max tips his glass to him. “That’s surprisingly accurate.”

  The first few chords play over the speakers and I instantly recognize the song as ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-N-Pepa. Max shakes his head. “God help us, they’re rapping.”

  Colin queues up his phone preparing to record the impending disaster. The girls are a mess of giggles before they even sing the first note. Their timing is off, and Colin didn’t exaggerate—they’re absolutely terrible, but they’re having so much fun we can’t help but laugh.

  I lean over to Colin. “Can I get a copy of that?”

  “You got it.”

  We jump to our feet, whistling and clapping when the song is finished. Nyla covers her face with her hand and walks straight into my arms, burying her head in my chest. I rub my hand up and down her back soothing her. “That was incredible.”

  She gazes up at me. “You need to have your hearing checked. That was awful.”

  “Okay, it was awful. But I can’t wait for you to do it again.”

  “Oh no. That was a one-time performance.”

  “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we recorded it then.” I show her my phone with the snippet Colin sent. She tries snatching it from my hand, but I hold it out of her grasp.