by Meghan Quinn
Grabbing her hands, he brought her to a sitting position and reached around her for the zipper of her dress.
“Brady…”
“Don’t fight me,” Brady said, his voice heavy with emotion.
Instead of fighting, Jane gave up and let Brady have his moment.
He unzipped her dress and carefully moved the straps off her shoulders, but left the top still covering her breasts. He then grabbed his shirt, put it over her head and pulled down. Her arms followed inside the sleeves as he pulled the hem down.
Bending down so he was on his knees, he snaked his hands under the shirt and grabbed her dress, pulling it down, never exposing her to him. She lifted up so he could completely remove the dress, which he folded up nicely and set to the side.
Looking up into her eyes from where he rested on his knees, he reached behind her head and undid her hair so it fell down over her shoulders. His hands reached up to her cheeks, where they rested while he stared into her eyes with his mossy greens reflecting in hers.
Hands down, he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. From his light tan from playing baseball to his gorgeous green eyes to his bright smile whenever he saw her, he would always hold a special place in her heart.
With a deep breath, he rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs and said, “We are better together, Jane, don’t you see that? I’m a mess without you. I thought I knew what living was until you came along. You opened my eyes to a whole new world. I don’t want to go back to a place before I knew you.”
Jane shook her head as tears fell from her eyes. “Brady, too much has happened. I can’t give you what you need.”
“I need you,” Brady said, standing up and pushing Jane back down on the mattress. He hovered above her, his hands on either side of her head, his chest falling up and down. He didn’t climb into bed with her, just stood beside it.
“You want a baby,” Jane responded, tears falling from her face.
“A baby is nothing to me unless you’re involved, Jane. Don’t you see that? I lost our baby girl and I’m grieving every day from that, but it’s nothing compared to the pain I feel without you. Why are you taking your soul away from me? Don’t you know I need it to breathe?”
“You need to move on,” Jane said weakly.
“Give me until the wedding.” His eyes pleading, begging her.
“What?” Jane asked, confused by his change of subject.
“Give me until the wedding to prove to you that I need you. If, after the wedding, you still think you want a divorce, then I will give you one, but at least give me until then.”
“Brady, there’s no use. I want you to have better…”
“There is nothing better!” Brady yelled, as he pushed off the bed and gripped his head in frustration. His shirt lifted ever so slightly, showing off his happy trail. Jane couldn’t tear her eyes away from it, and Brady caught her staring.
He moved back over to the bed where he leaned down next to her so his face was right next to hers, his hands once again on either side of her head. Her eyes were wide, her stomach fluttering.
“Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me to my face you don’t desire me. Say it right here, right now and I will leave you the fuck alone, but I want you to look me in the eyes when you say it.”
Jane’s brain was telling her to utter the words, to end this once and for all, to finally let him go, but the way his eyes bored into hers and the feeling of having him near had her unable to open her mouth.
“That’s what I thought,” Brady said gruffly. His nose ran along her jaw until his lips met her ear. “Listen to me closely, Jane,” His breath hot, his scruff rubbing her cheek. “You are going to give me until the end of the wedding. You are going to answer my phone calls when I call you and you’re going to hold my hand in public; it’s the least you can do after tearing my heart out and treating it like shit. We are going to plan an engagement party for Marc and Patty together. I will see you every Friday night until the wedding, and you will go on a date with me. My schedule will be tough, so you will be accommodating, and when I send you a plane ticket, your ass will be on that plane. Do you understand me?”
“Brady, I have a lot…”
“I said, do you understand me?” He interrupted her, clearly not taking no for an answer.
Could she do what he was asking? In her mind, she knew she was doing the right thing. The image of Brady, crumpled and broken from losing their daughter was on rerun in her head. It was all Jane’s fault; she was the reason they lost their baby, a precious gift Brady so desperately wanted. She didn’t want to take that away from him again; he was supposed to be with someone who could give him a child.
Her mind was set, if she had to make it through these next couple of weeks appeasing Brady to get to her end result, then she would.
Nodding her head, she agreed to his terms, knowing full well she would continue forward with the divorce after the wedding.
She must have shocked him, because the look on his face was unexpected. He smiled broadly, and out of impulse, he kissed her lips tenderly. She told her body not to react, to let him do the kissing, but damn it if her lips didn’t betray her for a minor moment.
Brady pulled away and cupped her cheek. “I love you, Jane. You’re my fucking life, and I will prove it to you. I have to catch my plane. I have a car waiting for me outside. Get some sleep. Oh, and I’ve asked Albert to move your things back in here. You are no longer welcome at his place or any of your friends. Deal with it, babe; you’re stuck here. Get comfortable.”
With that, he took off toward the door, leaving Jane breathless and slightly confused.
Chapter 8
**Nash**
It’s been two weeks. Two weeks! He shouldn’t be bothered, he shouldn’t even care, but for some odd reason, he did.
Fallon never called him to hang out.
Nash tried not to take offense, leaning on the fact that she was a space cadet and couldn’t keep track of her own pants being zipped, so how would she remember to call him about the little agreement they made? Well, the agreement she and Luke made.
Nope, he didn’t care at all. He didn’t think about her or her quirky style, the way she liked to dress in monochromatic colors, or how she would just say whatever came into her head. He definitely didn’t think about her freckles or her red hair or the way she looked in her sports bra. He one hundred percent didn’t think about that at all.
When he was in the grocery store, he didn’t secretly hope he’d see her in the toilet paper section stocking up on supplies, and when he was in the park, using the pull-up bar, he didn’t look for a brown blob running around, or packs of oregano flying around.
If she was trying to torture him, she wasn’t successful. Nope, Nash was content, happy, not interested in seeing her ever again.
His phone rang across the room. Out of instinct, he flung his body over the coffee table to grab it and answer before the second ring.
“Hello?” he asked, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Hey, bud,” Luke’s voice came over the line.
Sighing, Nash sat on the floor and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you want?”
“Wow, good to talk to you too.”
“Yeah, yeah, get on with it.”
“Expecting a call from someone else?” Luke goaded.
“No,” Nash lied, wondering why the unconventional voice of Fallon wasn’t coming through the line.
“Maybe you were expecting to hear from a little red-headed lady.”
“Nope,” Nash stood his ground.
“Waiting to hear from Fallon?”
“Fallon? Who is that? Oh, that girl who sold me the oregano?”
“Dude, you’re the worst fucking liar in the world. Nice try, though.”
Luke knew him too well.
“It’s been two fucking weeks and she hasn’t called. Not that I really wanted to hang out or anything, but it would have been the polite thing to do.”
&nb
sp; Luke laughed, full on belly laughed. Irritation set in; Nash was seconds from hanging up.
“When the fuck have you ever been concerned about polite?”
“You’re right, I haven’t.” With that, Nash hung up and tossed the phone on his coffee table. He wasn’t about to deal with Luke’s asshole comments.
In seconds, his phone was ringing again.
Nash thought of not answering it for a second, but he wasn’t that much of a dick, plus he was lonely. He could use the human interaction.
“What do you want?”
“Come on, man. Don’t get all ass hurt,” Luke still laughed in the phone.
“Are you calling just to twist my dick?”
“No, but that does sound appealing.”
“Losing my patience,” Nash said gruffly, despite enjoying talking to someone other than himself and his beer bottle.
“Come to therapy with me today.”
“Are you fucking high?” Nash asked, his face contorted in disgust.
“No, I’m serious. Come with me. I want you there.”
“If you want me there, then take a fucking picture of me with you. There is no way in hell I am going to therapy.”
There was a knock on his door just as he finished his sentence.
“It will do you some good,” Luke pushed on, as Nash went to open his door.
“Not going to happen,” Nash replied, hanging up on Luke and answering the knock.
“That’s what I thought you were going to say,” Luke said from Nash’s doorstep. “That’s why I’m here. Let’s go.”
Luke grabbed Nash’s arm and pulled him out of the house. Luckily, Nash was looking decent in a pair of jeans and an army shirt.
“I’m not going,” Nash said back, digging his heels in the ground.
“You’re going, you piece of shit,” Luke replied, struggling against Nash to get him in the car.
They wrestled each other, fighting with the car door, pushing and pulling each other, causing a scene in Nash’s front yard.
“Let go of me,” Nash called out, his head locked in Luke’s arm.
“Not until you agree to go to therapy.”
“Do you really think this is an effective way to get someone to go to some psycho-babble bullshit session?”
“No, I would prefer for you to go willingly, but I know that’s not going to happen, so I have to use brute force.”
“Where is this coming from?” Nash asked, surprised at Luke’s persistence.
“I’m sick of you wasting your life away. You lost a leg, big fucking deal, dip shit. Men we fought with lost their lives and would give anything to have the chance to breathe once again. You’re wasting your life; it’s a spit in the face to the men we lost.”
Nash tried to block out the words Luke was spewing out, but failed as they hit him straight in the gut. He often thought about the men who he fought with, who lost a lot more than he did. He was a coward compared to them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t find the urge to get up and make something of himself. It was so much easier to take the easy way out and waste his life away.
“You’re going,” Luke said, shoving Nash into the car; this time he didn’t put up a fight.
The door slammed shut and Nash watched Luke walk around to his side, brushing his clothes off.
Once he got in, Nash turned to him and said, “I’m only doing this because you brought up the other men. You can’t use that for another year.”
“I can use that whenever I damn well please,” Luke said with a smile, putting the car in reverse. “Shall we enjoy some music?”
Luke tuned in the radio as he backed out of the driveway and into the main road. Switching the car into drive, he took off down the street, lifting his eyes just in time to see the front end of his car hit an orange colored heap, causing it to fly into his windshield.
“Holy Fuck!” Luke shouted, putting the car in park and getting out.
Nash did the same, fearing for what Luke just hit.
Around the front of the car, on the asphalt, was Fallon, rolling on the ground, holding her arm and screaming bloody murder.
“Fuck!” Luke shouted again, bending down to see if she was okay.
“Shit, Fallon. Are you okay?” Nash asked, bending down as well, a little slower than Luke, thanks to his leg.
Instead of answering, she wailed, moving back and forth.
“We need to get her to the hospital,” Luke said, worry in his eyes.
“Do we lift her, though?” Nash asked, trying to recall his military training. “What if she has a neck injury?”
They both glanced down at her, she was rolling around; if she had a neck injury, Nash was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to move as much as she was.
“Doesn’t look like she does,” Luke pointed out, hovering over her.
“Fallon, are you okay?” Nash asked.
“Ahhhhhhh!” she screamed, now gripping her head.
“Shit, we need to get her to a hospital. Grab her and I’ll drive.”
In crisis mode now, Nash got to his feet and then bent down to pick her up, knowing full well with his bad leg he wouldn’t be able to lift them both up from the ground. Bending down, he picked her up and cradled her to his chest, hoping he wasn’t hurting her any more than she was already hurt.
“There’s no blood,” Nash pointed out. “Do you think there’s internal bleeding?”
“I have no fucking clue,” Luke said in a panic, opening the door for Nash. Instead of placing Fallon down, he got in the back with her, still holding her to his chest.
Luke slammed the door shut and took off, speeding out of Nash’s development, not bothering to pause at stop signs.
“Dude, don’t kill us trying to get to the hospital,” Nash warned. He looked down at Fallon, who was covering her face with her arms. “Fallon, talk to me. Tell me where you’re hurting.”
She was wearing a pair or orange cargo pants from the nineties that synched up at the calves, J-Lo style, and an oversized orange shirt. Nash wasn’t surprised by the attire she was sporting; he had come to know her for her oversized clothing.
“Fallon, are you awake?” Nash asked, not wanting to shake her.
“Is she passed out?” Luke asked, pulling out onto the main road. “Try to keep her conscious.”
“I’m trying, but how the hell do you expect me to do that when she’s not even fucking responding!”
They were yelling at each other; they were panicking. They had no clue what to do besides panic and hope that Fallon was going to be okay.
“Please, Fallon, talk to me. Can you hear me?”
Fallon’s arms moved to the side, allowing Nash to see her face, her face that had a giant smile on it. A face that was completely unharmed.
“Of course I can hear you; you’ve been screaming this whole time.”
“Wait, what?” Nash asked, trying to scan her body for any injuries.
Just when he was going to ask her if she was hurt anywhere, she burst out into a full belly laugh. Luke slowed down the car and pulled to the side when he heard her laughter. They both looked at her, wondering what kind of fucking looney bin she just sprang free from.
“What the fuck is going on?” Luke asked, his body turned to face the back.
Fallon wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Oh, hell, you should have seen your faces. That was priceless.”
“Are you hurt?” Nash asked. Fury started to boil over while he held her.
“No, I jumped in front of the car, classic drop and roll. Used to live next to a stunt man; he taught me everything I know. Never thought I would be presented with the opportunity until I saw you two fools driving away. Damn, thanks for the good laugh.”
Nash tossed her to the side of the car, as if she’d just burned him.
“You have got to be kidding me. You were faking?”
“Of course,” she said with a smile, brushing her clothes off.
“Holy fucking shit,” Luke breathed out,
sinking down in his seat. “I thought I killed you.”
“We thought you were seriously injured, Fallon,” Nash lectured.
Fallon patted his cheek and said, “Don’t be such a drama queen.” Observing their surroundings, she asked, “Where you going?”
“Well we were going to the hospital, but I guess we’ll be going to the shooting range now so I can get out my aggression,” Nash said between clenched teeth.
“Ugh, guns are boring. Let’s do something else.”
“Are you insane?” Luke asked. “You’re just going to act like you didn’t just bust our balls to smithereens?”
Fallon took her time to look between Nash and Luke. “What? You two seriously can’t take a joke? Come on, I haven’t practiced that move in a few years. I should get credit for how lifelike it looked. I need to call up my neighbor and tell him I just pulled one over on you two. He would at least be proud of me.”
“Let me get this straight,” Nash said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want us to be proud of you for acting like we hit you with a car?”
“Uh, yeah, wouldn’t kill ya to throw a girl a compliment.”
“You’re fucking insane!” Nash roared.
This was why he didn’t want to hang out with Fallon. She was unpredictable and freaky as fuck.
Nash was about to kick her out of the car when he heard the deep rumble of Luke’s laughter.
“Why are you laughing?”
Luke pointed to Fallon. “You have to admit, she got us good. We were freaked the hell out, man. Pretty sure you pissed your pants back there.”
“Did he?” Fallon asked, looking down at his pants. Nash quickly covered his crotch from her view.
“Fuck you, I didn’t piss myself. Sorry if I was concerned about being an accomplice to a homicide.”
“It was hardly a homicide,” Fallon rolled her eyes. “Damn, elaborate much?”
“I’m done with this. Take me home, Luke,” Nash demanded.
“Hell no, we’re still going to therapy.”
Nash was about retort back when Fallon said, “Oh, fun. I love therapy. What are we talking about…wait.” She paused and gave both of them the once over. She waggled her finger between them and asked, “Are you two a couple?”