Didn't Mean To Love You (Serendipitous Love Book 2)

by Christina C Jones

  “Yeah, pass the ball.”

  He ignored me, throwing it into the air and barely catching it before he continued. “I think I can convince her to let me hit.”

  I tried to block out the pulsing throb that started at my temple. “Pass the ball.”

  He did this time, and I caught it, dribbling as he kept talking.

  “Yo, she’s French too? With that sexy ass accent. She’s moody as hell, but I bet she’s a damn freak in the — ouch, man! What the fuck was that?” he asked as the ball bounced off his head and rolled away.

  My expression was deadpan as I stood up straight, arms crossed in front of me. “Oh no, what happened? Did I accidentally hit you?” I asked dryly, fighting back the urge to laugh at his scowl.

  “Accidentally? Dude, you just tried to knock my damn head off my shoulders. You must want her for yourself or something.” He pulled his hand away from the slightly raised swelling on his head to look at me. “Or… dude… you’re already hitting that, aren’t you? Yooo, respect man.” He approached me with his fist raised in front of him, oblivious to the look of death I was giving him.

  “Rod, if I lift my fist, it’s damn sure not gonna be to give you dap. Change the subject before I kick your ass.”

  “So sensitive about this chick, damn,” he said, laughing as he cupped his hand over his mouth. “You caught feelings didn’t you? Pussy that good, huh? I’m not surprised, bruh, and that mouth. Looks like she could suck the soul out of — Okay man, shit!” He said, his voice turning to a higher pitch as he dodged the fist I sent swinging his way and jogged to the other side of the court. “I’m just fucking with you man, I didn’t know that was your girl.”

  “She’s not my girl,” I snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I wanna hear you talking about her like that. How would you feel about Tim talking to some other punk-ass men about our mom like that?”

  “But… mom is his girl, so I’m not sure I get your— ”

  I sucked my teeth. “Shut up, dude.”

  Smirking, Roderick shook his head, then retrieved the ball from where it had rolled onto the grass. He bent his knees then shot, sending it flying smoothly through the goal. “So… speaking of mom… you hardly ever come see her anymore,” he said, not looking at me as he caught his own rebound, then sent the ball through the net again.

  It didn’t take much for me to read the unspoken meaning behind his words, his real complaint. I hadn’t been to see my mom, which meant I hadn’t been to see him either.

  “Just… busy I guess. I don’t know.” I shrugged, shoving my hands into the pocket of my hoodie as I watched him run through shooting drills.

  His expression was scornful, face coated with a light sheen of sweat when he paused to turn to me. “Liar.”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth, but didn’t respond to his accusation. It was accurate… what was I supposed to say?

  “So how did you end up not living with mom anymore?” he asked, stopping again with the ball clutched in his hands. “That’s what Denise wanted right… to drop a secret? That’s why she said it in front of me and Tim, since I guess we’re the only ones who don’t know.”

  “Rod, that shit isn’t even relevant to you, don’t—”

  “Let me decide that,” he said, shooting the ball again but not bothering to go running after it. “I wish y’all would stop talking around me like I’m still a kid. I’m sick of everybody except me being in on the big secret.”

  I raised my hands in front of me. “You’ll have to talk to Mom about this, man.”

  “You know she’s not gonna tell me. You’re my brother, dude. You’re supposed to have my back and you’re never even around. But every time I get in trouble, you’re the first to tell me how I’m fucking up. What, you can’t talk to me about shit unless you can scold me?” he shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked back toward the house.

  I tipped my head toward the sky, groaning before I called out, stopping him just as he was reaching for the door. “Alright, man. But don’t say I didn’t try to keep you out of it.” Trudging over to the patio, I sat down with my back to the table waiting for Rod to join me. “I’m gonna keep this brief,” I said, when he dropped into the chair beside me, arms crossed. “Cause I really don’t even feel like talking about this shit. Before you were born, obviously, our mom was married to my dad. They got divorced ‘cause mom got… sick.”

  “She was addicted to drugs?”

  “What?” I scowled. “No. She just had a… a depression problem, and my dad couldn’t deal, so they split, and I stayed with her. We moved to a little apartment in the hood, and she went to work and stuff, kept the bills paid, but when she was home… Sometimes she was on, you know. Playing, and helping with homework, taking me to the library to play on the computers, shit like that. But sometimes… she wasn’t. She would just go quiet, zone out for days at a time. But we were okay, you know? I took care of her when she got like that, and when she was better, she took care of me. Then she started drinking, and…” I shrugged, slumping in my chair.

  “And, what? What happened?”

  I ran a thumb over my bottom lip, scratching at the line of stubble that was beginning to grow back. “When I was eleven, she got arrested for a DUI. My dad found out and flipped out, took her to court. Mom gave up… so, I moved in with my dad and stepmom.”

  “So that’s what Denise is holding over her head. Yo… your stepmom is kinda of a bitch.”

  “Don’t call women bitches, Rod.” But, I didn’t deny his assessment. Mom cleaned herself up, so Denise was being ugly by bringing it up. She started seeing a therapist, got a new husband, and right before I turned 14, she had Roderick. Her new family, while she left me with my dad and his new wife, and only called once a week, and regularly forgot to call until days after my birthday.

  “Whatever. But… mom’s not like that anymore, right? She’s always been around for me, especially after my dad died.”

  I huffed, then quickly adjusted the sneer on my face. “Yeah, I know.”

  “So if you know she’s changed, why don’t you come around? Mom is cool as hell. Like, she never really trips on me when I mess up.”

  That’s part of the fucking problem.

  “I told you man… just busy.”

  Rod stared at me, and I stared right back, challenging him to call me another liar. I didn’t see the benefit for anybody involved if I told him it made me sick to my stomach to see the attention she lavished on Rod, after never bothering to get the help she needed so she could take care of me. Without question, I loved my mom, but I was good on her trying to take on that role now, when I was past the point where I needed that from her. I would talk to her on the phone when she called, fine. But I didn’t feel like going home and playing her little fantasy perfect family role play. Her visits to me had been few and far between, but it seemed like she was flying out to see Rod every few days. So… yeah, pass.

  “Too busy for your damn brother, man?”

  I dropped my head, pressing my mouth into a line. Now that, I did kinda feel bad about, cause it wasn’t Roderick’s fault that our mom hadn’t been the best for me. Only kind of bad though. Rod was a smart kid, and my mom and his dad gave him the world on a silver fucking platter. He had every advantage for success, and instead he chose to be a borderline delinquent and stay in trouble. I busted my ass for an acceptance to a school my dad and stepmom didn’t give a shit about, and busted my ass some more for the scholarships and financial aid to cover the tuition. Rod was lazy as hell, with a college fund thanks to his father.

  That was the trade off, I guess. I was coming up on 27 when my father died, and I had plenty of time to know him, plenty of time for his lessons, even if we didn’t always agree on the course of my life. I left my IT job to run the shop to honor him. Roderick, on the other hand… he was barely ten when his dad passed. No chance to learn the lessons in manhood, no opportunity to know his dad as not just a dad, but a friend.

  “I’m so
rry man.” When I looked at him, he seemed surprised at those words. “What?” I asked. “Seriously, you’re right. You needed somebody. I should have been there, and I let my own shit get in the way. So… I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “Okay. I mean… we’re good I guess. I just feel like… it’s fucked up that I have a brother and we don’t even really know each other.”

  “You’re right, man. But hey… you’re up here now, and we can fix that. Cool?”

  I shook my head, chuckling when a grin spread across his face. “Cool. So… about Viv. Why you ain’t tell me you was hitting that? I bet that pus— ouch, man. Shit!”

  “What? Did I accidentally hit you or something?”

  “Is this what you would have done to me too?”

  I looked up from the computer to glance at Simone, who was sitting on the end of the desk, looking rather uncomfortable with eight months worth of pregnant belly keeping her from sitting straight.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, frowning at the screen as I worked on fixing the mess she’d made of the inventory system I set up for her almost exactly a year ago.

  “What you’re doing to Viv… Is this what you would have done to me if Roman hadn’t been in the picture, and you and I had started dating?”

  Gripping the mouse much tighter than necessary, I pretended I didn’t see the disappointed look on her face. “What did I do to Viv?”

  From the corner of my eye, I could see Simone’s expression drift from mild displeasure to outright contempt as she pressed her mouth into a hard line. “Let’s see… you treated her like you cared about her, and the minute she tells you she feels the same, you broke her heart.”

  I knew this was coming. I’d been waiting for it, wondering why it was taking so long for Simone to ride out for her friend. I sat back, studying her as I reclined in the office chair. She had her arms crossed, eyes narrowed… damn, she really was pissed.

  “Simone… you know damn well how I feel about Viv.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Apparently I don’t. Apparently, I don’t know you that well at all, because the Carter I thought I knew wouldn’t be playing around with a woman’s heart— especially Viv. You know what she’s been through!”

  “How am I playing with her heart? I never told her what we were doing was serious. We never even talked about it!”

  With difficulty, Simone got down from the desk, hair swinging as she rounded the corner to stand in front of me. “I know that. And I told her not to bring it up to you, cause I knew you would fuck it up if she did. I expected that. What I did not expect is that you, knowing how she feels about you and knowing that you broke her heart, would sleep with her again.”

  Oh. That. Probably shouldn’t have told her that.

  I shook my head, swiping a hand over my face. “I didn’t go to her intending for that to happen. I stopped by because I missed my friend, I wanted to see her. She initiated sex, not me. And, by the way, you know this isn’t your business right?”

  “Duh. But, we’re friends, right? So I’m gonna tell you anyway!” She gave an impatient snort as she turned and started pacing the room. “Of course she initiated sex! She misses what you had. Of course she wanted to be with you like that again. Of course she’s trying to get that closeness back, because she’s still emotionally attached, and you don’t even have the decency to not pull her back in.”

  Holding up my hand, I interrupted Simone’s rant. “Hold on now, you’re not gonna sit here and act like I’m intentionally trying to hurt, or use Viv. You think I’m looking at her like she’s just a booty call or something?”

  “I know you’re not,” she said. “That’s exactly why this doesn’t make any sense to me. If you care for her like you told me you did two months ago, you would let her go. Knowing that you’re not willing to give her what she needs, you should leave her alone.”

  “So what, I shouldn’t even talk to her? Can’t even be around her, can’t be her damned friend?”

  “Carter… you see how that turned out last time, right?”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face again, then turned away, pretending to focus on the computer screen. Simone sat down again on the desk, facing me this time, with her head tilted to the side for a long while before she straightened up and spoke.

  “You know… I thought you knew women, Carter. But the more I learn about you, I don’t think that’s the case at all. I think you’re very good at treating women very well. I think you’re very good at taking care of them when they’re down. Hell, it’s what you did with me, and if it wasn’t for Roman…,” she paused to shake her head and let out a short huff. “I remember a few months ago, you jokingly told me you had some crazy exes. I wonder how many of those women were women just like me, just like Viv, who you turned on the charm for, loved on them, made them love you, and when they tried to get some type of assurance… you split.”

  She didn’t mean it unkindly, I could tell by her soothing tone, but her words still twisted in my chest like a knife. I guess it must have shown on my face, because she reached over to cover my hand with hers.

  “Carter, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, because I don’t think you’re a bad guy. I know you’re not a bad guy. I just… don’t understand your reluctance to just let someone love you. It’s okay to do that. But… that’s not where you say you are, not what you want from life… so okay. That’s fine too. But that’s not who Viv is. She thrives on love, and if you’re not going to facilitate that for her, you need to step aside, and let her move on to someone who will. That can’t happen while you’re trying to be her “friend”.

  So… that’s what I did.

  I hated every minute of it, but I didn’t call, and I didn’t text, since it wasn’t like she was responding anyway. For two weeks, I was off Viv, cold turkey, and it was only by some type of divine intervention that I didn’t see her on the street, or run into her in the halls. She didn’t come to me with any complaints about working with Roderick, who honestly seemed to be calming down.

  Even though I wasn’t seeing her anymore, the way I felt for her didn’t die down. In fact, it was almost like the absence made that fullness in my chest intensify to the point that when I finally did run into her, early one afternoon at Urban Grind, I felt like my heart might fucking explode. She was sitting in the far corner, flanked on either side by Eddie and Simone. As always, she looked gorgeous… she looked happy.

  Then, as if she felt me watching her from across the room, she looked up and her eyes met mine. She smiled at me, but then her gaze slid to the right and it faltered as she noticed the pretty woman sitting next to me. Kendra, a hairstylist from the salon next to my shop, was sitting way closer than necessary for a damned coffee date she’d invited herself on, practically in my lap as I ignored whatever she was saying in my ear. She was attractive, yeah, but I wasn’t interested, and I was only still beside her because I didn’t want to be rude when she spotted me sitting down and asked to join me.

  Viv’s eyebrow lifted slightly, her nostrils flared just a little, and she returned her eyes back to mine, with a noticeable drop in warmth. The entire exchange took maybe ten seconds, and then it was like it never happened. She was warm again, laughing, happy to be having lunch with her friends.

  When I saw her get up, heading to the bathrooms, I followed.

  “Viv,” I called out, catching her before she reached the door. She stopped, and seemed to square her shoulders before she turned around.

  “Hello Carter.” Her tone was clipped, and even though she was smiling, with her face pulled into a pleasant mask, I could tell she was bothered.

  “About Kendra, I—”

  “No need to explain,” she said, holding up her hands. “You are a single man Carter, you owe me nothing. Who you date is your prerogative.”

  “I… I just want you to know it’s not like that. Not like with me and you.”

  She smirked, then dropped her gaze to her boots as she shook her head, then finally looked back up
. “For her sake, Carter… I certainly hope not.”

  Then she turned and left me standing in the hall, letting the bathroom door close behind her with a snap.

  Well… damn.

  I don’t know what I expected her reaction to be, but it certainly wasn’t that. I thought about waiting for her outside, pushing the issue. I didn’t want her to think that while she was heartbroken, I was moving on, dating, or sleeping with somebody else. Thinking about that didn’t even feel right. But… maybe this was best. Maybe letting her think I was just an asshole, that I just didn’t care… perhaps that’s exactly what needed to happen.

  — & —

  “I’m pretty sure she asked you to let her go, bruh.”

  Yeah, so acting like I didn’t care was a lot fucking easier said than done, when I walked up the stairs to my floor and found Viv trying, in vain, to pull her wrist from her ex’s grip. Of course he was the type of bitch-ass dude to try to physically force a woman into doing something. I wasn’t even a little bit surprised, but I was pissed off, and old boy had about two more seconds to let her go before I snatched his head off.

  I was trying to stay calm, not raising my voice, not moving towards them, but apparently he saw danger in my eyes, and he let her go.

  “This doesn’t even concern you, man,” he said, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

  “It kinda does, when you’re standing in front of my apartment harassing my neighbor.” I finished the last couple of steps, and came to stand in front of him. The intention wasn’t really to intimidate, but I had at least 50 lbs and 6 inches of height on Darren, so it was a given.

  Darren snorted, shooting a scornful look back towards Viv. “He’s what… your guard dog or something? Is this what you’ve been up to, why you won’t talk to me now?”

  “Yo… Donald—”

  “Darren.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever the hell your name is. Don’t talk to her like that. It doesn’t look like she’s interested, so how about you not talk to her at all. How about that?”

  He had me several different types of fucked up if he thought I was going to stand here and not say shit while he disrespected Viv. I glanced at her, and she gave a me a little nod of thanks. Just as I was about to return her nod, Darren turned toward the stairs to leave, muttering something under his breath that sounded too much like “fucking slut” for me to let it slide.