Change of Hart

by M. E. Carter

  “Oh,” Deuce said. We ran in silence for a few minutes, me trying to concentrate on my workout, although Addison kept coming back to the center of my thoughts. And Deuce, well who knows what Deuce was thinking about.

  “So are you gonna be this kid’s daddy now or something?” Deuce asked with a smirk.

  “Fuck it, I’m out,” I said, slamming on the stop button and leaving the treadmill. I would go run the stairs in the stadium. I wasn’t gonna listen to Deuce make fun of me. Not about this.

  “Come on, man!” he yelled after me. “I was just kidding! Come on, Jason. I’ll stop, I promise!”

  I gave him the finger over my shoulder on my way out the door. I heard him roaring with laughter behind me.

  For the next thirty minutes I ran up and down the stairs. That’s a lot of stairs. But I was worked up. I thought about why I was so pissed off. It’s not like Deuce said anything different than he would normally say. I just didn’t know where I stood with Addison and it frustrated me that Deuce could pick up on it so easily.

  This was different than when I had dated before. This wasn’t a woman who was just gonna fall in bed with me. I couldn’t charm her into a date. This was a woman who needed to be courted. And damn if I didn’t know how to do that without looking like an idiot in the process.

  Because she didn’t act like a grieving widow. She didn’t get teary eyed when we talked about her dead husband. She didn’t seem nostalgic at all. And we had great conversations. It was all really confusing.

  On top of that, I wasn’t sure how I felt about being this interested in someone. I had spent my entire life planning for a career that only spanned a few short years. Did I really want this kind of distraction at this point in my life? Then again, could I even help it anymore?

  After five times up and down the entire stadium, I decided I was done. We already worked out that morning, but had practice that afternoon. If I was gonna get some food and run a couple errands, I needed to head to the shower. I could take out the rest of my frustration that afternoon on the field.

  As I opened my locker and peeled off my shirt, I felt Deuce sit down on the bench next to me.

  “Ok, all jokes aside, bro. Tell me the truth.” I turned to face him. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair was still wet from his shower. “When you were running those stairs, you were thinking about her, right?”

  I whipped back around, my anger resurfacing, and started taking my running shoes off. I was not in the mood to hear this shit again.

  “Just hear me out,” he pleaded.

  “I’m listening,” I said, not turning back around.

  “When I first started dating Vanessa, she was all I could think about. Before practice, during practice, after practice. Like I was obsessed or something. It bugged me because I didn’t want to be focused on a woman. I wanted to be focused on playing football. But I couldn’t help myself with her. I used to bring my phone in the weight room, too.” He shrugged. “You just never caught me because I’m not a dumbass who left the sound on. I had it on vibrate and only checked it when you weren’t looking.”

  I smirked and chucked my socks in my locker, stripped my shorts off and wrapped a towel around my waist.

  “She turned me down the first few times I asked her out, too,” he admitted.

  “You never told me that.”

  “Dude, it bugged me so bad I didn’t want anyone to know,” he said. “Even you. I couldn’t figure her out and she drove me crazy. Kept making it seem like she was interested but turning me down if I pushed. But I kept at it. Talking and flirting and enjoying our conversations. And one day, she agreed to go to that gala with me.”

  I looked over at him and sat down. “I thought that was a blind date.”

  “That’s what I told you,” he said, slugging me on the shoulder. “I didn’t wanna tell you what was really going on because I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. I had never felt about anyone the way I felt about my little fun-size girl. I wasn’t gonna look like a pansy-ass if it never went past that date.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, I get that.”

  “My point is,” he continued, “I’ve been there. And dude, I’m gonna keep making fun of you,” he said in a sensitive-sounding voice, making me chuckle. “But stop thinking so hard and just enjoy this ride. Maybe she won’t go out with you. But maybe she will. And then you’ll fall in love and get married and have to put up with her turning into a psycho for no apparent reason and you’ll have a whole different set of problems to worry about,” he said, shaking his head as he stood up and grabbed his clothes.

  I chuckled. “Deuce, you have the strangest way of making this situation look like a win-win for me.”

  “Man,” he said, his head in his locker, “Some days I wonder what I saw in her at all. And then I remember, and it makes all that mind fuck worth it.”

  I headed toward the showers, still confused, but looking forward to my next text.

  “You got him an Xbox?”

  Lindsay and I were heading to Jaxon’s birthday party. Emma was in the backseat of my car, happily singing along with whatever was on Disney Radio. I always listened to satellite radio to keep up with all the sports talk, but it sure came in handy with a five-year-old in the car.

  “Yeah, so?” I asked Lindsay. She sighed like she was dealing with one of her school kids. “You don’t know how much money I make, do you, Lin?”

  She looked at me and furrowed her brow. “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not,” I shrugged. “Let’s just say I have more money than I know what to do with and a great financial planner. Besides,” I continued, “Deuce went shopping with me and we agree; every kid deserves an Xbox.”

  “You went shopping with someone named ‘Deuce’?” she asked. “There’s part of your problem. What kinds of parents name their kid ‘Deuce’?”

  I laughed. “They didn’t. He’s Michael Johnson the Second,” I said, turning into the neighborhood. “His dad was the football coach at his high school and there was another Michael Johnson on the team, same time as him. Apparently it got kind of confusing trying to keep everyone straight.”

  “Let me guess,” Lindsay said. “Some obnoxious kid on the team thought it was funny to turn bathroom humor into his nickname the minute they figured out what the phrase ‘dropping a deuce’ meant.”

  I laughed so hard it was a good thing I had found the house and was pulling over to park. “Ohmygod, Lindsay. Don’t ever let him hear you say that!” I put the car in park and wiped my eyes. “Darren Watkins made fun of his name once on the field and he almost got his aaaaa . . . butt kicked for it,” I said, remembering Emma in the back seat.

  “Nice save there, hot shot.”

  “Thanks,” I said smiling, opening the door and climbing out. “Come on, Emma. Let’s go to a party.”

  “Yay!” She yelled. “I need to drop a deuce!”

  I burst out laughing and Lindsay rolled her eyes. “I should know not to say anything even remotely inappropriate around her. Ever.”

  “Oh, please do,” I said. “It’s kind of fun for me.”

  She scoffed and grabbed Emma’s hand while I gathered the presents from the back.

  “I still can’t believe you got him an Xbox,” she grumbled as we walked up the sidewalk. “You’re gonna make my present look dumb.” I followed behind her as she got to the front door and knocked. “At least tell me you didn’t get any games.”

  I pretended to be offended. “How can you even ask that? Why would anyone give the gift of a video game player without giving all the video games to go with it?”

  She whipped around. “How many did you get him?”

  I smiled. “Just the latest football games I could find.”

  “Oh.”

  “And every Lego game in stock.”

  “Jason!” she barked at me, her eyes wide. She pretended to be upset, but her smile gave away the fact that she actually found it funny.

  The door opened and we wer
e greeted by a bright-eyed, smiling Addison.

  Yeah, I was right about that smile. Once again, it about knocked me on my ass. I couldn’t look away from her as she greeted Lindsay. She just had this presence about her. I just . . . gravitated toward her.

  “Mrs. Miller, I’m so glad you could make it,” Addison said cheerily.

  “Please,” Lindsay replied. “I totally understand going by last names at school, but call me Lindsay everywhere else or I’ll feel old.”

  Addison smiled in agreement. “I understand, Lindsay. And this must be Emma,” she said, bending down to look her in the eye. “How are you?”

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” Emma said seriously. “I need to drop a deuce.”

  I roared with laughter and Lindsay smacked her palm to her face.

  “Blame him,” she said with a sigh, pointing her thumb at me over her shoulder. “He’s a bad influence.”

  “Hey! I didn’t even say it! That was all you,” I said, still chuckling as I put the presents on the table by the door where a bunch of other gifts were.

  “Whatever,” she said, waving her hand to dismiss me. “Can you point me to your bathroom?”

  As Addison walked them to the corner and gave directions, I found myself checking out her backside again. She was wearing white shorts this time. Long enough to be considered conservative, but short enough that I could get a good picture of her legs. Damn, did she have good legs.

  Solid, thick, sexy legs. I know she would probably hate that description. Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t obese by any stretch of the imagination. But stick thin legs weren’t attractive to me. I’d had some flings here and there with tiny girls and was always afraid I was going to break them. Nope. I preferred my women on the meaty side. And Addison, she was just perfect.

  As she turned around, I caught a glimpse of that smile again.

  “JASON!” I heard a shout to my right and turned to see Jaxon barreling toward me. I leaned down and caught him right as he jumped in my arms.

  “Hey! It’s the man of the hour,” I said, standing up. “Happy Birthday!”

  “It’s not really my birthday, Jason,” he said with a giggle.

  “I know,” I replied with a smile. “But isn’t that what you’re supposed to say at a birthday party? I haven’t been to one in a really long time.”

  “You haven’t?” he asked with his eyes wide.

  “Nope. Not since I was a kid. So I’m really excited to be here.” He smiled wide at me and wiggled to the floor. I glanced over at Addison to see her watching the exchange with a small smile on her face.

  “You wanna come see my Pee-paw?” he asked, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me through the kitchen to the backyard.

  Jaxon introduced me to his grandfather and several other partygoers. Fortunately, everyone was pretty relaxed around me. No one asked for my autograph or a picture or anything, except for some woman named Samantha who kept giving me “fuck me” eyes and standing a little too close. I was able to grab a bottle of water and just relax in a lawn chair, watching all the festivities around me.

  There were about a dozen kids and their parents going in and out of the house. It was a small backyard, but had enough room for a small swing set and some regular party games like a ring toss and pin the tail on the donkey. In this case it was “Pin the Cube on the Transformer”. I cracked up when one of the kids spun around during his turn and toppled over while trying to walk with the blindfold on.

  “This is a cute house,” Lindsay said, sitting down next to me, a glass of wine in her hand. She wasn’t a lush, but the girl did love her wine.

  “The whole neighborhood is nice,” I said. “I was thinking it looks like a bunch of cottages.”

  “Are you talking about my house?” Addison said with a grin, walking over and sitting down on the other side of Lindsay.

  “I was just saying how cute this neighborhood is,” Lindsay said. “I’ve been teaching at Mountain Park for three years and never even knew it was here.”

  They continued talking about school, kids, life. Lindsay explained that Sam had a project to finish up in the office this weekend and Jaxon’s party was the perfect excuse for him to miss out on some family time without Lindsay nagging him about “work/life balance”. Ok, she didn’t say that last part. But I heard it a few times at dinner.

  I didn’t really participate in the conversation. I just sat back and watched the two of them get to know each other. Once again, I found myself dumbstruck being around Addison. She was more soft-spoken than Lindsay, but wasn’t lacking in things to say. She just had this presence about her I couldn’t explain. But I knew I wanted to be around it.

  She caught me staring at her, but I didn’t care. I caught her staring at me a few times, too.

  “Hey Addison, we’re running low on the fruit,” Jaxon’s Pee-paw said. Mick was his name, I think.

  Addison stood up. “I guess that means my rest time is up. You guys have fun,” she said and turned to walk away.

  “I’ll help you,” I said and jogged after her toward the door.

  “Always the charmer,” I heard Lindsay mutter from behind her wine glass as I walked past her.

  We walked into the small kitchen. It was covered with paper plates and napkins and balloons and a cake with the Cowboys logo on it and a bobble head of a player on top. Thank goodness it wasn’t #53 - my number - because that poor bobble-headed bastard was ugly.

  “What can I do to help?” I asked Addison as she pulled a bowl of fruit out of the fridge.

  “Oh,” she said, like I had startled her. “Um . . . can you help me slice the fruit? There are knives in there.”

  She pointed to the drawer next to me and pulled out an extra cutting board. We started cutting up the fruit in a comfortable silence. Every once in a while one of us would catch the other one looking and we’d smile. I know I looked like a total idiot, but at that moment, I just didn’t care.

  “I’m really glad you could come,” Addison said softly. “Jaxon is really excited you’re here.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad I didn’t have to miss it. Everyone seems really nice.”

  “They are,” she agreed. “Except my sister-in-law, Samantha,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “I kind of got that vibe,” I replied. “I caught her taking a couple of selfies today that seem a little . . . strategically placed.”

  She snorted. “Yeah . . . you can expect to be in the background of her Facebook pictures tonight so try not to pick your nose or anything while you’re here.”

  “I will refrain from all nose-pickery while in the vicinity of Samantha’s phone, I promise.” We went back to our comfortable silence for a few minutes. “So why doesn’t Mick come over much anymore? Jaxon said he doesn’t come around much, but they seem to get along really well.”

  “They do,” she said, grabbing the newly sliced apples and putting them on the display tray. “But he lives in Lancaster, so it takes a good hour or so to get here.” She shrugged, grabbing some grapes. “I was hoping when Austin died he’d be over more, but, ya know, life moves on I guess.”

  “It’s gotta be hard on him,” I replied. “Austin was his son, right? It was bad enough when I lost my dad. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose a son.”

  “Yeah, he was a mess for a while. But he’s starting to get back to normal again . . . smiles more, and, oh shit!” she yelled, throwing the knife down on the counter. “Oh fuck that hurts,” she said, holding one hand in the other, a grimace across her face.

  “What happened,” I asked, feeling panicked. “Did you cut yourself?”

  “Yeah,” she said, turning to me. “Sliced right down my thumb.”

  I grabbed her hands in mine, pulling her closer to me. “Breathe through the pain, Addison,” I said. “I know it hurts. Just breathe through the pain.”

  She took a couple of deep breaths and stopped hopping around so much.

  “Let’s get your thumb under some cold water
and see what we’re dealing with.” I reached over and turned on the faucet, noticing all the blood on both of our hands. I hoped it didn’t need stitches. Even with a minor cut, thumbs could bleed forever.

  I should have been focused on Addison’s thumb, but I couldn’t help the part of me that noticed how close she was. Frankly, it made me nervous. Not because I didn’t want to be near her, but because I could really get used to being this close to her all the time.

  After a few minutes under the water, it wasn’t bleeding as hard anymore.

  “Looks like it’s just a small slice,” I said. “Doesn’t look like you need stitches. But you do need a couple bandages. Do you have any?”

  “Yeah,” she said in that soft voice I just loved. “In that cabinet right above your shoulder.”

  I handed her a paper towel to dry her hands with while I grabbed the bandages. Then I took her small hand in mine and started patching her up. I tried to be gentle and take my time. Not just because of the injury, but because I was trying to draw it out as long as possible. I really liked touching her.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” she remarked.

  I smirked. “I’ve had an injury or two,” I said, finishing up with the last bandage. “These won’t last all day long, but adding the gauze inside should help keep the bleeding a little more under control.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at me with those hazel eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” I said softly, looking down at her, still holding her hand. I swear I was getting those signals again but after being rejected, I just couldn’t be sure. So I just kept holding her hand and looking at her when . . .

  She stretched up on her toes and kissed me.

  Right on the lips.

  I was stunned for a moment, but quickly remembered what to do and kissed her back. I kissed her softly and slowly, just wanting to enjoy the moment. When she didn’t pull away, my hands made their way to her face and I tilted her to the side so I could slide my tongue into her mouth.

  Good god could the woman kiss. Her tongue was soft and gentle. Seductive, without turning into a soft porn movie in the middle of her kitchen. And her breath. Damn.