Tell Me You Love Me

by Julie Prestsater

  Molly starts singing I’m Too Sexy while I do my turn on the catwalk—aka narrow aisle—and she changes up the words saying things like, “I’m too sexy for my fuckhead husband.” The lyrics catch a few weird looks from other patrons, but that doesn’t stop her.

  As I twirl around again, a familiar face in the window catches my eye. Ryan? I stop mid-spin for another look, but he’s gone.

  “What’s up?” Molly asks, noticing my concern.

  “I thought I saw Ryan,” I tell her, with a smile...because of course, I can’t think of him without smiling.

  “You know it’s okay to get divorced, right?” Her words cause me to do a double take.

  “What did you say?” I know I must be hearing things.

  “Hear me out, Liz.” Her smile fades and I know she means business. The sales people make themselves scarce after Molly gives them each a look. “Right now, you just beamed at the mention of Ryan the sexy firefighter. I’ve never seen you smile, not even a silly grin when it comes to Jace. We all know he’s not right for you. He should appreciate and love you, and he doesn’t do that. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to think you failed if you divorce him. You’ll only fail yourself if you don’t.”

  Divorce? Do I want that? Or do I want to stay married to Jace? Deep down, I know the answer to that but is divorce the only option for us? It’s so final it makes me sad. And yes, Molly’s right. I would feel like a big fat failure—yet another person who doesn’t actually want to spend time with me.

  “I wish it was that easy, Molly.” Damn it. Tears fill my eyes and threaten to spill over the top.

  “It doesn’t have to be hard unless you make it that way,” she says, looking up at me pleadingly. “You’re my friend and I want you to be happy. I know you don’t have the best relationship with your mom.”

  “That’s an understatement. The woman doesn’t want anything to do with me.” It hurts to say it out loud, but I know it’s the truth and there’s no use trying to hide that fact with Molly.

  “Yes, but that’s your mom’s problem. You have this idea she didn’t want you and that somehow, no one else will either. Except for Jace. Have you ever considered that maybe there is a man out there like your dad? One who will care for you and love you the way he should. You deserve to be happy. But Jace is just downright mean and you shouldn’t have to put up with it. No one should. You need to love yourself enough to know you deserve better. Like Casey did. She knew she deserved better than that arrogant bastard Jordan and his judgmental family. Jace is Jordan, Liz. And he’s not even rich, so why stay with him?”

  Why do I stay with Jace? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for years. And a question I have yet to find the answer to.

  When my dad died, I felt completely alone. My mother took so little interest in me, I wasn’t even sure she was going to show up on my graduation day. The vice principal at my school had to call her and tell her I was the valedictorian and she’d have a reserved seat in the front row of the auditorium. That put on the pressure for her to be there. Otherwise, I really don’t think she would’ve gone.

  She didn’t show up for my college graduation ceremony. There weren’t any high school administrators or counselors calling her to ensure she went. She only received one invitation. From me. And that wasn’t enough.

  Jace was there. His family, too. At the time, I felt like that was enough. I was just happy to have someone on my side, in my corner. Someone I could lean on and talk to. I missed my dad so much, all the love he gave me. All the hugs and understanding. The days where he would come home, smile, and ask me how my day went. It was the simple things, really. Just knowing he was there for me any time I needed him. To help me with my homework. To take me to buy new shoes when my big toe wore a hole in my Vans. To listen when I was having a bad day. I miss him.

  I mistakenly thought Jace could replace that incomparable void left by my father, that he could be that support system I needed, and my lover, too. The one I loved. The one I married. The one I couldn’t bear to live without.

  But, who am I kidding? I know my life would be better without him. The expectations I had for him, for us? They’re long gone now. I know those expectations will never be met.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ryan

  There’s really nothing worse in my book than going to the mall. Shopping for clothes just doesn’t do it for me. If I ever need anything, I head to the closest Target or REI. For the most part, either store can handle any of my needs. But, not this time. I need some new running shoes. For some unknown reason, Finish Line is the only place that carries them and it’s located in the damn mall.

  As I pass a women’s clothing store that sells nothing but items in black and white, it crosses my mind it would be nice to have one for men too, especially fashion-challenged ones like myself. When I told Lizzy I have a closet full of standard-issued firefighter T-shirts, I wasn’t kidding. I peer in the window to check it out. Maybe they do in fact carry men’s clothes. I’m wrong, but what I see takes my breath away.

  Lizzy.

  She is absolutely gorgeous. She wears a simple black dress with sexy heels that show off her slender calves. Her ass looks amazing as always. She’s slimmed down a bit, although I’d never mention it because she didn’t need to. Plus, I’ve learned a lot from growing up with two women. Any mention of weight, whether good or bad could be seriously misunderstood. I’m not willing to take that chance. I’m not stupid.

  I smile as I watch her prance around the store, her deep-red hair, pooled at her shoulders, swaying and bouncing with every move. I notice Molly sitting down waving her hands in the air like she’s dancing. Then it occurs to me that she’s singing, too. The whole store seems to be smitten by these two. It doesn’t surprise me at all. Lizzy had me since the day I met her. Molly is undeniably a funny, dynamic—albeit dramatic—woman, too. I’m not surprised they’re such good friends.

  Oh shit. Quickly, I turn so I’m standing in front of the next store over. I’m not sure, but I think Lizzy spotted me. I don’t want to seem like a creeper so I don’t show my face again. I’m content with seeing the little show while it lasted. If she asks me, I’ll tell her I saw her. And I’ll tell her she looked beautiful. She deserves to be told that simple truth every single day. Something tells me she has a hard time believing it.

  The other night at Starbucks, when we were talking about our families, I know it was hard for her. It made me feel good that she trusted me enough to share the details of her relationship with her mother. I may have grown up without a father, but the love my mom showed me made up for it. I never felt like I was missing out on anything. I had male figures in my life—coaches, teachers, dads of friends, all of whom were more than willing to answer my questions or offer advice when I needed a man’s perspective. It didn’t happen often though. My mom didn’t spare me any details in the birds and the bees talk. True to her personality, she was blunt as a pitchfork and got right down to the nitty gritty.

  I wish Lizzy had grown up with a mother like mine. Her dad was that for her, I guess. While he was alive, anyway. But, now that she’s older and he’s gone, there is no doubt she’s missing that love and support of a family. I don’t know how she does it. Just talking to her, watching her take on that damn hill, listening to her bloody awful singing, I know she is a strong woman. She can do anything on her own. But she shouldn’t have to. Lizzy deserves to be loved. She deserves to be held when she reminisces about her dad. She deserves to get a high-five when she makes it to the top of the Hill of Death. She’s so cute, so sweet—she deserves it all.

  It doesn’t take me long to grab my new running shoes. Unlike most women I’ve known, I don’t need to try on thirty pairs before deciding on one. I know the style I want. I know my size. And I know which color I’m looking for. So when I get to the store, I head straight to the display and hold up the shoe of my choice. “I’ll take this in a size twelve,” I tell the young dude who’s milling around the store. He nods
and then heads into the stockroom. Within a few minutes he’s back with a box in hand. I open it when he hands it over. Both shoes are there - a right and a left. “Thanks, man. That’ll be it.”

  We both head in the direction of the register where I pay for my new kicks and I’m out. All in a matter of ten to fifteen minutes. Simple.

  On my way home, the image of a beautiful redhead still lingers in my mind. Clouding my thoughts with fantasies I shouldn’t be having. The guys would kick my ass if they knew I was starting to have feelings for Lizzy. Who am I kidding? I bet they know. My fucking face blushes like a damn school girl every time I see her. It’s fucking embarrassing. Thank God they haven’t seen us together on the trail. They’d probably call me a pussy for drinking tea at Starbucks with her, too. But damn, I learned so much about her and wouldn’t trade that night for anything. Not even to get back my man card. I could have dragged her out of that dress store and spent the day with her, doing anything she wanted. Who cares if I get called a pussy? Lizzy...she’s worth it.

  No doubt there are other guys at the station who enjoy the company of their lady friends, so I shouldn’t get ragged on too much. They all know Lizzy and like her, after all. Although, maybe that’s part of the problem. Name-calling might be the least of my worries. Thinking back on the first day I met the women at their strange book club, the guys made it a point to say they do not date the girls. You don’t shit where you eat, came to mind. Maybe that’s a bad analogy. Laughter rises from my stomach.

  Yeah, I understand why they would be worried about dating one of the girls. Especially if things went south. But the more time I spend with Lizzy, the more I don’t care. She makes me laugh. She makes me smile. She is the spark and fire that has been missing in my life for way too long. I didn’t even realize it was missing until I met her. Somehow, she has been able to drag me out of my funk and make me feel like a man again.

  In more ways than one.

  Damn, she looked so hot in that dress. I wonder what she’s getting all dolled up for. And for who. Instantly, I see red at the thought of Lizzy seeing another man. I know I have no right to feel that way. It’s not like I’ve told her how I feel, and that I’d like to be the one she gets dolled up for. Fuck me if this isn’t the first time it’s occurred to me that Lizzy could have another man in her life. Here I am thinking about all the things I’d like to do with her, to her. Get to know her better and become that constant in her life that would help ease the pain of the loss of her father—and her mother—and who the hell knows? Someone could already be that for her.

  I doubt it though. She doesn’t have that happiness in her eyes that a woman in love would have. I’ve seen it before. That glow. That ere of happiness. Lizzy doesn’t have that look of being complete. Content.

  But, she does light up when she sees me. Her smile does reach all the way to her eyes when we talk. That has to mean something.

  Maybe it’s time for me to bite the bullet, pull on my big-boy pants, and tell her.

  Well, at least, ask her out to dinner. That would be a start, right?

  Fuck it. I’m doing it. I’m going to head out for a run tomorrow and hope I spot her on the trail. If I see her, I’ll stop being a pansy and ask her out. If I don’t, well...no harm, no foul. I’ll still be right where I am now. Hell, so far luck was on my side today, giving me the chance to watch her strut her stuff in the store with Molly. She was downright intoxicating, so sweet and sexy. Now, my luck just has to continue.

  * * *

  “Hey, Ry. Are you busy?” Justin asks when I tap the button on my steering wheel to answer his call.

  “Just on my way home.”

  “Any chance you can stop by? I’m having trouble with my website. Fucking thing is jacked up.”

  Laughing at that comment, I decide to piss him off more. “There’s nothing wrong with the site. The problem is the dumbshit who’s using it.”

  The grunt coming through the line makes me chuckle again. As smart as my friend is, the guy is computer stupid. It surprises me that he can manage to send a text on his iPhone. Or make a call for that matter.

  “Shut the fuck up. Just get your ass over here.”

  I’m about to ask him who needs who here, but the call is ended and I’m flipping a bitch to head in the direction of his condo.

  When I arrive, Justin welcomes me with a shake of my hand and a cold beer.

  “Thanks for coming, man.” He gestures to his desk where his computer sits. “All of a sudden I started getting these random spam messages on my site. I can’t figure out how to get rid of them.”

  I sit down in front of his Mac and take a swig from the bottle before I get started. “Did you change your settings anywhere?”

  “No. Since you set it up the last time you were home, I haven’t touched shit. It’s always worked. Now, ads for Viagra and sex toys have been popping up in the comments. I can’t have people looking for security and seeing that shit.”

  With an expression as serious as can be, I look at my friend and tell him, “You know, the kind of spam you get usually mirrors your search history.”

  His brows narrow at me. “Very funny, dick. Just fix it.”

  “If you’re having a problem, you should really just go to the doctor. They can help you with that shit.”

  “Fuck you.”

  My fingers glide across the keyboard and I work the mouse with precision. “And if you’re going to shop for sex toys, there’s a shop downtown that’s really good. No need to pay for shipping and you know exactly what you’re going to get.”

  “Are you done yet?”

  I can’t help but chuckle. I love fucking with him. He’d do the same if he were in my shoes.

  With one last click, I’m done. “There was an update to your host and it changed a few settings. It was an easy fix.”

  “I have no idea what the hell that means.” He raises his hands, seemingly confused.

  “It means no more magic dick pills and vibrators.”

  He laughs. “Cool. I’ll get us another beer.”

  I grab the remote for his TV and take a seat in one of his recliners. I could sit here all day watching sports on his sixty-inch screen and chugging brews. Scrolling through the channels, I settle on Sports Center and then pull back my seat to kick up my feet.

  “Hey, I thought you had a date today. How did it go? Same girl? New one?”

  He shrugs as he sits in the chair next to me. “It was good.” He reclines back as well. “How about you? You haven’t seen anyone since you got home, have you?”

  “Not really,” I tell him, still as vague as can be. Hiking with Lizzy can hardly be considered a date. Not that I want to share the details with him anyway. Thankfully, he doesn’t ask any more questions. I have no idea what this is that’s happening between me and my girl on the hill, the last thing I need is someone weighing in on the situation.

  Justin must feel the same way, because he still doesn’t share anything else about the woman or women in his life. He doesn’t say a thing. Instead, he just stares ahead at the news of another football player arrested for battery at a Hollywood nightclub. I suppose if we were chicks, we’d be searching for hints or clues about our hookups on social media; like a change to each other’s relationship status on Facebook. The idea makes me laugh inside. Justin can barely turn on his computer much less update his Facebook status.

  As I take another drink of my beer, I focus on the giant TV in front of us. Sports Center. That is easy. We can do Sports Center.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lizzy

  As my feet grind into the gravel beneath me, I think about Jace’s upcoming dinner with each step. I know I’ve lost some weight, but I’m not sure if it’s enough to drop a whole dress size. Knowing my husband, he’ll probably ask if I did, and he’ll more than likely look at the tag for proof. The thought alone has me snarling as I hump my way up the hill even faster. It isn’t the need to satisfy my betrothed, it’s the anger that fuels my speed.

&n
bsp; One foot in front of the other.

  Step after step.

  Faster. Faster. Faster.

  My arms swinging at my sides like a speed walker.

  Step. Step. Step.

  Climb. Climb. Climb.

  Fuck. Him.

  “In a hurry?” The deep rumble of Ryan’s voice instantly calms me and my irritation with Jace completely disappears as the tall firefighter falls into step beside me.

  It amazes me how with three simple words. One question. Ryan is able to help me relax, erase the pain. Even if it is only just for the time I’m in his presence. I didn’t expect to see him on the trail again, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping. I walked every day this week and each time, I searched for him. It made the time pass faster, but it made me jumpy as all hell with every sound of footsteps that weren’t mine.

  “No, just on a mission,” I tell him. I was so busy being angry with my spouse that I lost sight of my search for the yummy guy next to me. Ryan had to be running all week too, but we kept missing each other. It’s not like I could ask him what time he trains, so we could meet up; even though I really wish I could. Thank God for small miracles—or in this case, big ones—because I welcome the sweet distraction.

  A few steps later, we’re in sync and the chatter comes easily. Ryan tells me more about his family. He’s absolutely adorable as he talks about his younger sister as if she still wears pigtails even though she’s twenty-four. With his mother being a single parent, he considered himself the man of the house growing up, a title he seems to be proud of. Not because he craves the control, but because he is so fond of the women in his life. When he talks about the distance that used to be between them, I can tell it caused them a lot of heartache. It doesn’t matter now that he’s home and he can get to know them all over again. That seems to bring a smile to his face.