Finally Us (True Love)

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Finally Us (True Love) Page 8

by Bentley, Harper


  “Remember that most men are simple. There’s no hidden agenda. If you get confused by them, that’s on you because you didn’t read between the lines. They say what they mean, but a lot of it isn’t literal, but we women tend to take it that way. They also give off signals that we dismiss. Pay attention. I know some women who’ve waited for a month after a date still wondering why a man hasn’t called her when he said he would, but you can’t tell me they didn’t already know. They failed to catch the subtle nuances. Our intuition tells us the answers all the time, yet we choose to ignore it. Listen, and you’ll be set. I know a woman who fretted thinking she’d done something wrong because her man wasn’t talking to her when the whole time he was just trying to figure out what was making the ticking noise in his car. See? Simple.”

  Well, she just got down to business. I nod again.

  “Now, don’t just nod in acquiescence at what I just said. This is important. Learn to read men, and you’ll have them eating out of your palm. Took me four marriages to finally figure it all out.” She huffs out a laugh and looks embarrassed. “But I did. You figure it out, it’ll save you some serious heartache. And once you do, the world’s yours.”

  She smiles when I thank her, and when the elevator dings and the doors open to the lobby, we get out and go our separate ways, her to a limo and me to the cab that’s waiting.

  After giving the cabbie my work address, I think about what the woman said, and realize that maybe I’ve taken things Jag’s said too literally several times and I think that’s usually when we got in trouble.

  I’ll feel a lot better once you’re there, he’d told me when he’d first moved to LA. I’d interpreted it as he needed me there to keep him from hooking up with super-bitch-model Alessandra, but he’d said he just needed me. Hm.

  He’d also been up front with me about the stupid commercials he did with her, not hiding anything (except for the last one where he had to execute a mock proposal), but he’d told me that since it’d meant nothing to him, he hadn’t even thought it’d hurt me (which it totally had). But he’d apologized and made things better.

  When we’d broken up this last time, I hadn’t believed him when he’d said Alessandra had set him up. But now I did. And although he could’ve been a little less naïve about trusting her, I know I could’ve been a little more stalwart in trusting him.

  I now think about what he just said to me, when he’d told me to leave. You want him. Then go. He’d thought I wanted Austin, but I have no idea why. I was trying to tell him that I didn’t want to let Austin in that way; therefore, I thought I was explaining that I didn’t want him but he’d taken it as I’d already let him in. Ugh.

  Okay, I get it. But that didn’t excuse the way he’d just treated me. I mean, he could’ve asked what I meant instead of interpreting it the way he had then kicking me out. Ass.

  Why did things always have to be so complicated. I decide to think about this all later because my brain’s a jumbled mess right now.

  It’s almost nine when I arrive back at work. Courtney says hi and continues doing something on the computer when I walk in, and I see my client’s already there.

  “Hey, Calvin,” I say to the huge Bears linebacker sitting in the lobby. “Follow me.”

  “You gonna be sweet to me this time, Ms. Love?” he asks as he follows me back to my room.

  I laugh. “When have I ever not been sweet to you? And I’ve told you to call me El.” I open my door and look up at him as he goes in, which strains my neck because he’s got to be at least six-foot-six.

  He barks out a laugh. “Well, how about last time when you had me do that wrist rotation. With weights!”

  Calvin tore his left biceps muscle in a game last month when his arm somehow got caught in a mob of men during a tackle. He’d had surgery and I was helping get him fixed up to get back out on the field.

  “The weights was a dumbbell that weighed eight pounds,” I say with a snort.

  “Shit fuckin’ hurt, Ms. Love!” he says with a frown and sits down on the treatment table.

  “Well, Mr. Clark, I’m sorry but if you wanna be out there slamming Packers to the ground next year, you’re gonna have to go through some pain.” I notice him looking at me a little funny and excuse myself to the restroom where I wash my face finding that I have some smears of mascara under my eyes. Looking good, El. Calvin had noticed my Alice Cooper eye makeup, I gather. That or my post-orgasmic glow. Yeesh.

  I turn to leave and notice something on my neck. I turn my head to the side and see it loud and clear in the mirror. Oh, dear lord. Jag gave me a flippin’ hickey. No wonder Calvin was looking at me funny. Ugh. I pull my hair around to cover it then go back to my room to get my purse, telling Calvin I’ll be a few minutes then blush like mad when he smirks at me. Back in the bathroom, I dab some concealer on to cover it, blending it some then cover it with foundation. It’s still somewhat visible, but there’s nothing else I can do except maybe wrap my huge wool scarf around my neck for the rest of the day. That would be lovely to deal with.

  I go back to my room putting my purse away and start working with Calvin. Throughout our appointment, I listen to him grumble as I put him through stretches first then several exercises, and I keep my mind focused on him the entire time, not allowing my thoughts to stray to anything that happened earlier. Once we finish, I walk him out, giving him some exercises to do before our next appointment and see that my next client’s there. Thank God. My schedule’s full all morning, so I have no time to think about anything, which is great.

  When I leave to get lunch, I see that I’ve got a couple missed calls and a voicemail from Bec.

  El, I talked to Ross this morning before I left and he told me that Jag was going to come see you at work. Just a head’s up. Also, Big Mouth told Jag that you and Austin have had a couple make-sessions, so brace for that because he said Jag was pissed. Okay, just wanted to warn you. Give me a call later! Love you!

  Now she tells me. I call her back knowing she’s at work and probably won’t answer, but miraculously, she does.

  “Hey! Did you get my message?” she asks.

  “Yeah. Only four hours too late,” I reply.

  “Oh, no. What happened?”

  “Jag showed up. We went to get coffee and ended up at his new condo. Long story short, we had sex against the huge window in his living room.”

  Her gasp is audible. “Oh, my God! El…”

  “I know. First time I see him, I sleep with him. How big of a slut am I?” I sigh and roll my eyes at myself then wonder if the people driving by can read my lips as I talk to her through my Bluetooth. I think I just saw a woman mouthing “skank” at me. Ugh.

  “Well, it makes sense. I mean, you haven’t seen each other in four months. You love him…”

  “Yeah…”

  We don’t say anything for a few seconds as that sinks in then she forges ahead. “Was it good? I’ll bet it was hot!”

  I sigh again. “It was hot. Very hot. Right up to the moment he kicked me out.”

  “What?”

  “He kept asking about Austin and when I tried explaining that I wasn’t into him, I guess he took it wrong and threw me out.”

  “He threw you out.” This isn’t so much a question as it is a statement of disbelief.

  “Well, at first he told me to get out then he asked me to leave,” I explain.

  “What a jerk!” she says.

  “Agreed. My walk of shame lasted for like eighty floors.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I did meet a nice woman in the elevator who gave me advice about men, though, because, you know, at that very moment I wanted nothing more than to hear more about men,” I add sardonically.

  “Well, at least something good came from it,” she says with a snort. “Like the hot sex. Tell me more about this window sex!”

  I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. “It was pretty steamy.”

  “Shoot! My break’s almost up. You’ll have to tell me l
ater. What’re you gonna do now?”

  “I don’t know. I have a date with Austin tonight. God, I am a slut,” I moan dismally.

  She laughs. “Yeah, you’ve slept with one guy. You’re a total slut. Call me and let me know how tonight goes, okay? God, I hate that I don’t have time to do anything other than work anymore. But I’ve got the next two days off, so we’ll do something then, okay?”

  “Okay. All your sacrifices will be worth it in the end,” I encourage.

  “I hope so. I’d better make big bucks. And with Ross being Jag’s agent, well, we’ll be all set.”

  “He’s hiring him?” I knew he’d asked Ross but hadn’t heard he’d hired him already.

  “Yes! Isn’t that great?”

  God. I feel so out of the loop. Hearing this just makes me want to cry, but instead I say, “Yeah, great!” trying to muster some enthusiasm.

  “Okay, babe, gotta go. I’ll talk to you later about window sex!”

  We hang up as I pull up to ProSport and I just sit there staring at nothing.

  A couple years ago, I read a book about the stages of grief. I think that’s what I’m dealing with now, grief, but that book didn’t say anything about wanting to just sit and stare for hours on end. Or uttering the word “uh” in every other sentence. Or making dumbass decisions like going out with someone I don’t love. Or screwing someone I do love and thinking it’s great idea until he kicks me out.

  A knock on my window startles me out of my thoughts and I let out a little yelp. I look out to see Austin. Oh, boy. I turn off the car and get out.

  “You were totally zoned out,” he says and bends to kiss my cheek. “Thinking up some newfangled physical therapy device to torture us with?”

  I take one look at him and burst out crying.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, wrapping his arms around me.

  “My li-life’s a m-mess… gonna… ‘uh’ myself to death… and s-staring all the t-time… and… and love… hurt… sex…” I know I’m not making any sense but it’s nice to get it all out even though I sound vaguely like a Godsmack song and he has no clue what I’m talking about.

  We stand there in the snow and he continues holding me, telling me it’ll be okay, and selfish as I am, I allow him to soothe me.

  Chapter 12

  Jag

  After El leaves, I call Starr because I have no fucking idea what just happened and I need a female’s perspective. She’s a stay-at-home mom and Finn and Lark are at Chad’s parents for the weekend, so I’m hoping she’s not busy and is able to talk some. I thought of calling Baxter’s wife Amanda, but I haven’t talked to them in a while and it’d be kind of rude to lay this shit on her now.

  “You did what?” she hisses out after I tell her I told El to leave.

  “She told me she wanted the other guy. What was I supposed to do, tell her I’d be her man on the side?”

  “Tell me again exactly what she said.” I can hear the irritation in her voice. Is anyone ever going to be on my side in this thing? Christ.

  I take a deep breath and blow it out, gearing up to repeat what I’d just told her. “She said that all she ever wanted was me. Wanted me to be her one and only. Then she said she didn’t want to let the other guy in that way.”

  “So what’s the problem, Jag?” she asks hatefully.

  Damn. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to call her.

  “Well, it sounds like she’s let him in already… doesn’t it?”

  “And what’d she say when you kicked her out?”

  “I didn’t ki—” I start.

  “You so did! That was a dick move, little brother,” she scolds and I hear her mumble idiot. Nice. “Okay, here’s what I get from what she said. Of course, I’m not some megalomaniac, professional baseball playing millionaire who thinks he can throw women out of his condo.”

  I close my eyes and take another deep breath then look up at the ceiling as I let it out, putting my hand on my hip. Well, I guess it’s clear whose side my own sister is taking.

  “Starr…”

  “You want my opinion or not?”

  I sigh and go to the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge then sit at the bar as I tell her, “Yes, I want your opinion… but not if you’re gonna berate me every five seconds.”

  “You deserve it. You’d better hope Mom doesn’t hear about this. Or Dad. Dad’ll cut your balls off.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

  “Okay, here’s what I think she meant. Are you listening?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Well, the first part of what she said is clear. The last part, well, you had sex, right?”

  I cringe. I hadn’t told her about the sex, and if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never want to talk to my sister about sex, and I don’t want to talk to her about it now. I don’t know how she knows we had sex, and I seriously want to hang up right now.

  “Jag?” she asks. I can hear her doing dishes in the background and I want to shoot myself because I’m never going to talk to her about sex and especially not while she’s washing dishes.

  “Yeah, here.”

  “Well?” she asks.

  I take a long drink then set the bottle down and quickly answer, “Yes,” then I shudder at the fact that I actually answered my sister about El and me having had sex. I’m talking about sex with my own sister. God.

  “Okay, well, first of all, a woman like El doesn’t sleep with just anyone. So the fact that she slept with you says one of two things: it was either a goodbye or she still loves you and wants you back. How’d her face look while you were, you know?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Am I really going to answer this? I stand and start pacing, gritting my teeth that we’re even doing this.

  “I, uh, didn’t see her face.” Fuck. I really answered it.

  She giggles for a few seconds then says, “All right. What was her body language like? I mean, did it feel like it was a goodbye?”

  If I ever had any doubt that I still loved El, this clears that shit right up because this whole conversation is creeping me the hell out.

  “No, it didn’t feel like a goodbye.”

  “Good! Now we’re getting somewhere. So what happened right afterward?”

  All right. I’m going to man up and get this over with. I was the one who called Starr, and if I cooperate, hopefully, I’ll get answers. Even though I’m probably going to be blind for the rest of my life because talking with her about it all makes me want to jab out my own eyeballs.

  “We dressed and when she turned, she was crying,” I tell her. “Then she told me I was the only one she wanted, then that she didn’t want to let this other guy in.”

  “Are you an idiot?” she asks out of the blue.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Here’s the deal, Jag. You totally suck at reading women, so I’ll make this plain and simple so even your dumb jock brain can wrap itself around it. I’ll even go slow so you can get it all.”

  “Damn, Starr, when you lay it all out there like that, how can a guy resist?”

  She chuckles then states, “El still loves you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have offered you anything afterward. Wouldn’t have tried explaining anything. She’d have been out of there and that would’ve been the end of it. But because she chose to explain things to your pea-brained self, it shows she cares. Get it?”

  That kind of makes sense and now I realize I am an idiot. I’m sure Starr will have something way more colorful to describe me.

  “I get it.”

  “You’re a fucktard.”

  See?

  “What do I do now?” I ask. I feel more hope about El and me than I have in a long time.

  “The first thing you need to do is find her and apologize. The sooner the better. Like, on your knees begging for forgiveness apologize. Because if you let this sit, it won’t be good.”

  “Thanks, Starr,” I say.

  “That’s what big sisters are for, little brot
her. Any time you need to talk about your relationship, I’m here.”

  I snort because that’s the last time I’ll ever talk to her about something like this. I hope. We hang up after I thank her then I leave to go find El.

  On my way to El’s office, Ross calls. “Dude. I just talked to Gatorade! Fucking Gatorade! They’re in! Oh, my God! This is fucking unreal!”

  I laugh at how excited he is. “That’s awesome, man. I knew you’d do great.”

  I’d called Dirk two weeks ago and fired his ass. He’d been my agent for going on five years, and I’d had enough. Not only had he been a dick to El, he’d lately been threatening to pull some of my endorsements trying to manipulate me which wasn’t cool. So I’d had it. Let’s just say he wasn’t too happy and leave it at that. And Ross was doing just fine, and now he’d landed a major deal.

  “I’m still in awe that I actually got it! I didn’t expect to hear from them until Monday since it’s Black Friday and all, but the guy said they were excited and wanted to go forward with things.”

  Ross is now well on his way to becoming a millionaire. I’d already given him ten percent of my contract and we’d agreed that he’d make twenty percent from each endorsement deal he landed. Hell, he might already be a millionaire with this Gatorade gig going through.

  “You did great, man,” I congratulate him.

  “I can ask Bec to marry me now!”

  Fuck. Gut punch. I mean, I’m happy for them, of course, but, God, I really want the same for El and me.

  “Good for you,” I say.

  “Gonna call her now and let her know. They’re gonna fax the contract over in the next couple hours for you to sign. I’ll bring it by as soon as I get it.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. We talk a bit more then hang up as I’m pulling into ProSport. When I go inside, I see Trina standing at the front desk and she immediately gives me a pouty look as I walk over. “What’s up, Trina?”

  “Nothing,” she says, still sulking.

  “Courtney, is Ellen in?” I ask and Trina turns on her heel with a huff and heads toward the back. Strange.

  “Don’t mind her,” Courtney says. “She had the idea that you guys were gonna get married and have babies.” She chuckles.

 

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