Foolproof

by Jennifer Blackwood

  My mom filed out of my apartment, followed by Blake and Payton. As I was about to close the door, Ryan whispered, “After you, Juliette,” in my ear.

  I backhanded his chest. “If you ever call me that, I will ream you.”

  “Naughty.” He waggled his brows.

  “You and that unicorn will be begging for mercy.”

  He nudged my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. It’s just dinner.”

  I nodded. He didn’t know my mom. Dinners could sometimes be a bloodbath.

  He pulled me to him and laced his fingers with mine. “We’re in this together. I won’t let my girlfriend be hung out to dry.”

  My cheeks heated. “I hope it’s okay I introduced you as that.”

  “Definitely. I could get used to you saying it.”

  I bumped my hip into him. “Let’s just survive dinner first, and then see how you feel.”

  “Deal.” He looped his arm around my waist and pulled me in close.

  Twenty minutes later we were seated at Pepe’s.

  “Payton, I hear you’re already studying for your classes next term. I bet your dad is really proud.” Mom looked at me and raised one brow.

  I looked at my phone and shifted in the uncomfortable vinyl seat. Two minutes. It took her exactly two minutes from when the waiter left to bring up school. A new record for my mother. Really, she should win an award for narrow-minded statements.

  Payton shrugged. She always hated compliments, never was able to take them well. I could tell she wanted to deflect just by the crimson rising in her cheeks. “Actually, Dad told me to take a break, that I should enjoy the summer. Like I could ever take time off.” She laughed.

  Ryan and Blake shook their heads. I crunched on a chip, chewing extra loud to block out my mom’s voice. My view of the conversation: chew, chew, chew, Payton is so amazing, chew, chew, chew. Wish I had a different daughter, chew, chew, chew.

  My mother reached for my arm across the table and looked at Payton again. “I’ve been telling Juliette that she needs to take some pointers from you. Maybe you can help her out next year.”

  Because my 4.0 GPA needed help. Right.

  If I stabbed myself with my steak knife, I could end this quickly. The femoral artery would have me unconscious in about two minutes. Or maybe the carotid. Decisions, decisions. As I eyed the knife, Payton said, “Jules is the one who usually helps me with stuff I don’t understand.”

  God bless Payton, but her rebuttals were falling on deaf ears. Well, more like selective hearing ears. Mom just mm-hmmed and continued to look at Payton the same way she regarded Eric. “Did you know Clint and I met when we were in medical school? We were something.” She smiled, getting this faraway look. I’d love to have a time machine to see what Mom was really like when she was my age. Did she always act like she had a stick up her ass? Or was that just because of Eric and me?

  “That’s awesome, Dr. Carmichael.”

  “Please, Blake, I insist you call me Vivian.” She turned her attention to Ryan. “So, Ryan, are you in the pre-med program at Drexler as well? Please excuse me. My daughter tells me absolutely nothing.”

  I don’t tell you things for a reason. Namely situations exactly like this. I squeezed Ryan’s hand, trying to convey with every fiber of my being that I was so sorry for subjecting him to this dinner. I should have just gone with Blake and Payton and endured it alone. But being with Ryan calmed me down, taking the situation from DEFCON 1 to DEFCON 5.

  “No, I’ve been friends with Blake and Payton since we were kids and I met Jules through work.”

  She tilted her head. Oh great. She wouldn’t be impressed we worked together. I knew her exact thought process—minimum wage, not in med school, no trust fund with money to throw around. All things I gave zero fucks about. “So, you’re coworkers.” And we were on to her next train of thought—inappropriate work relations. Which was absolutely correct, but none of her fricken business.

  Ryan cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Yes, we are.”

  “Interesting. What are you going to college for?”

  Really? Why was this turning into an interrogation session while my friends were here? I laced my fingers in his, hoping that he didn’t want to call it quits after a couple hours with my mom. Only getting to call him my boyfriend for two hours would majorly suck—and beat my previous shortest dating record by fifty-nine minutes, when I was boyfriend/girlfriend with Brooks Anderson for three classes in seventh grade.

  “I’m actually not in college right now. I’m going to be joining the police academy at the end of the summer.”

  My mother picked up a chip and swirled it in a mortar of guac. “Oh, right. How nice. Probably for the best. Office supply stores are a dead end.”

  Ryan sucked in his cheeks and looked down at his plate. “My dad owns the store. I’d hardly say it’s a dead end.” This was the first time I’d ever heard him defend his dad. Impressive, even my mom could make Ryan’s least favorite person redeemable. Go Mom.

  I shot her a look, pleading. Please, Mom, don’t embarrass me anymore.

  “Right. Of course.” Mom blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “What made you want to be a police officer?”

  I ran my hand nervously down my leg. She was going to scare him off, I just knew it. “Mom. I don’t think Ryan needs to be treated like he’s in a police interrogation.”

  “I’m just trying to get to know your boyfriend a little better, since my own daughter won’t tell me.” She leveled me with a glare, her cold, blue eyes sending a chill down my spine.

  Ryan took a bite of chip with salsa and chewed, seeming to mull over the question. “Dating was a recent change for us, Dr. Carmichael. I was just telling Jules I’d love to meet both you and the other Dr. Carmichael. And to answer your question, I want to help people in need.”

  But it’s not what you want to do, I wanted to scream. He was faking it, I was faking it. I was done living a lie, though. Dammit, I was going to work with athletes, even if it meant burning bridges with my disapproving parents.

  “Like Juliette.”

  “You don’t know a thing about me, Mom,” I muttered.

  Apparently a little too loud, because my mom said, “Excuse me?”

  Everyone looked at me like I’d said I snorted a line of cocaine off my plate. “Being a doctor is what you want me to be. You’ve done nothing but force me into something I don’t want to do.”

  Mom wrung a napkin in her hands, the paper flaking apart. “We’ve discussed this before. Your little athletic training hobby isn’t a career. I didn’t pay a year’s salary just to have you graduate and be jobless.”

  “There are a lot of jobs out there, Mom. Sure, it doesn’t pay as much as being a doctor, but—” I tried to keep my voice neutral, professional, the way she’d talk to her patients. Even so, I couldn’t look her directly in the eye.

  She crushed a chip with her thumb, the pieces crumbling over the blue floral pattern of her plate. “End of discussion.”

  I stared at my fingers as I traced over the lines of my plate, pushing back tears. No use arguing with her—she’d never support me if I pursued athletic training. Plus, I didn’t want to fight in front of my friends. “Okay.”

  The waiter arrived with our food, just in time to break up this awkward family moment. Why did I even try? I knew things would never change, no matter how many times I told my mom I didn’t want to be a doctor.

  After spending the rest of the meal eating in uncomfortable silence punctuated by terse questions about school, we made our way back to the apartment.

  Mom grabbed Caesar and checked into her hotel. Ryan followed me into my bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  I turned away, fighting the tears that had been building up the whole night, ready to be released. “Will you spend the night?” My voice shook, and I could feel myself falling apart around the edges.

  He smoothed his thumb down my arm. “I’d love that. Hey—” He swiveled me around
so that I faced him. “Your mom wasn’t that bad. You can tell she cares.”

  I scoffed. “Were we in the same room? Did you not see how she adores Payton?”

  “I saw a woman who didn’t know how to act around her own daughter. You weren’t exactly giving her much slack, either.”

  “Says the person who can’t stand his dad.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right. I have my own issues. But I call it like I see it.”

  That’s it. Ryan needed an eye appointment. His vision was way off. “Can we not talk about this now?” Or ever.

  He squeezed both my shoulders and looked at me, searching my face. “I’m here for you. Anytime. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. He held my hand all through dinner, he was polite to my mom, who was a complete bitch to him, and he still wanted to be in the same room as me. Miracles were real. If there was ever a time to buy a lottery ticket, I should do it while my luck was running high. “Thank you for tonight.”

  “What are boyfriends for?”

  I slid my hand over his chest, my fingers tracing along the contours and grooves of his muscles. It only took a month, but I was completely head over heels for Ryan. Something that made my insides tremble, like the moment after a loud noise—the skin-prickling adrenaline rush that lets you know you’re alive. It was more than being alive; I was living. And I loved him for making me feel this again.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Ryan

  My phone rang, waking me up from an awesome dream about Jules spread out naked on a boat. I patted the comforter, searching for it, to stop that damn ringing, but instead my hand skimmed across warm skin.

  What the?

  It’d been a long time since I’d fallen asleep with a girl. A damn nice way to wake up. Jules’s hair splayed across the pillow, and the only thing I wanted was to bury my head into her, spending the entire day nestled next to her soft body. The phone buzzed again, reminding me why I’d woken up in the first place. I pulled it off her nightstand and peered at the screen.

  It was an unknown number. Usually, I let those go to voicemail, but since it was a local number, I decided to pick up. “Hello?” I cleared my throat, my voice still groggy from sleep.

  “Is this a Mr. Ryan DeShane?”

  My heartbeat quickened. “Yes, this is he.”

  “My name is Tamara Smith from Humboldt Reservoir. We’ve received your application and would like you to come for an in person interview. Would you be interested?”

  “Y-yes! When would you like me to come in?”

  “Next Tuesday at noon. Does this work for you?”

  I had work that day, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this. I’d let Dad know I was coming in late. “I’m available.”

  “Great. Mr. Brooks will meet with you in the main office next Tuesday.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  I hung up the phone and lay back down in bed next to Peach.

  She stirred and turned over to face me, her eyes still sleepy. “Who called?”

  I’d kill to tell her right now, but didn’t want to get her hopes up. Or my hopes. “No one. Wrong number.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Oh, okay.”

  Dick move for not telling her, but if I got the internship next week, she’d be the first one to know. “What do you want to do today?”

  “I could think of a few things to pass the time before work.” Her hand raked down my back. She did the same thing when we had sex, like she physically needed to dig into my flesh in order to stay grounded. Fucking hot.

  “Did you know you’re an all-star?”

  “You’re starting this early, DeShane? Unfair advantage. I need at least two cups of coffee before I can think of songs.”

  “I never play fair when it comes to you.” I rolled on top of her, kissing down her neck. She let out a moan as I pressed against her. This was where I belonged. This girl proved life was getting better.

  I clocked into work a little after two. Jules’s shift started in a couple hours, and I knew right away that time would pass by at a Business 101 lecture’s pace.

  As soon as I took my break, I pulled out my phone, looking for any texts from Jules. There were a couple from Uncle Gary and Blake. A few texts from Lex rolled in every once in a while, but they’d decreased significantly since the beginning of summer.

  I still felt a little guilty about how we’d left things. I needed to get past this. I needed to make amends with her. After being with Jules, I felt nothing for Lex. The anger had drained from me. I didn’t resent her anymore. I needed to nut up, stop ignoring her calls, get whatever needed to be said out on the table, and let it go.

  I took a deep breath and stared at my phone. I could take the easy way out and apologize through text, but that seemed like a cop-out. She deserved a phone call, a proper apology for how I’d acted when we broke up. I flipped through my contacts and clicked on her number.

  Sifting my hand through my hair, I took a deep breath and readied myself to get bitched out. I dialed and put the phone to my ear. She picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello?” she said, cautiously.

  “Hi…” Already off to a great start. I really wanted to hang up and pretend that I wasn’t about to have this conversation, but this was the right thing to do.

  “Didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

  “Neither did I.” I chewed on the inside of my lip. Talking to Lex felt like putting on an old pair of soccer cleats—I was familiar with them, but they didn’t quite fit anymore, feeling awkward and foreign. The right words weren’t coming, and I sat there for a few moments silently cursing myself for not thinking this out better.

  She sighed into the phone and her voice softened when she said, “I’ve missed you.”

  I shoved my hand through my hair. Shit, I didn’t want to lead her on. I needed to get to the point, and quick, before she got the wrong idea. “Lex. I’m sorry, but I don’t miss you. I’ve met someone.”

  There was a long pause before she said, “Oh.”

  I tapped my finger on the table, pushing myself to cut the crap. “I was calling to say that I’m sorry for how I treated you after we broke up. I was an asshole.” There. If she wanted to yell at me, at least I’d apologized for my wrongs.

  The line went silent and I thought maybe she’d hung up. Right before I checked to see if I’d lost the call, she said, “Thanks. That means a lot. It was wrong to cheat on you, and if I could take it back, I would.”

  My head whipped back. I wasn’t expecting this, not from her. “Thank you.” This was the first time she had truly apologized for sleeping with Dwayne. Maybe she’d treat her next boyfriend better. I was going to with Jules. I knew for damn sure I wouldn’t pull the I don’t know shit with her. “I’m really sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

  “I know.”

  There was another awkward pause. Not much else to say. I didn’t want to be friends with her, but at least I’d fixed any confusion between us. “Well, I guess that’s all I needed to say. Take care, Lex.”

  “Yeah, it was nice. Have a good…um, life.”

  I laughed and said, “You, too.”

  I didn’t think it’d really make any difference, except for clearing my conscience, but a weight lifted off my chest as soon as I hung up. I’d been holding on to a lot of excess anger lately, and I was finally making it right.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jules

  Walking on Sunshine buzzed through the speakers as I walked into work. Normally these songs chafed more than my sports bra after a long run with Payton, but this song totally fit my mood these past few days. I didn’t know how it happened, but over the past month, I’d fallen for Ryan. Even if he was leaving in a month for Texas, I had to believe we could work things out. Ryan was a rarity—sexy quips, fun even when we were doing nothing, and could put up with my mother.

  Yep, it wa
s all clear now, I loved this guy.

  I hummed the song as I walked to the back of the store. Maybe Ryan would want to go bowling tonight with me, Payton, and Blake. Finally, I could go out with them without feeling like I was a third wheel. As I stood next to the door to the break room, ready to punch in, I heard Ryan’s voice.

  “I was calling to say that I’m sorry for how I treated you after we broke up. I was an asshole.”

  What? Was he talking to Lex? A thread of guilt knotted in my stomach. I moved away from the door and fiddled with the contents of my purse. I really shouldn’t have been eavesdropping on his conversation. Then again, if he wanted a private conversation, the staff room of Office Jax probably wasn’t the place. I moved back to the time clock, hands poised on the numbers, when I heard him speak again.

  “I’m really sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

  My hand froze, mid-number-punch. Como? Why was he apologizing? A million bad scenarios ran through my head—Ryan going back to Texas and hanging out with Lex, Ryan making up with her and deciding our relationship wasn’t worth it, Lex’s fingers touching that damn unicorn tattoo. The list kept going.

  Stop. This might not even be her. Don’t overreact.

  “Yeah, it was nice. Take care, Lex.” He laughed and then said, “You, too.”

  So it was her. I thought he said he was done with crazy exes. A stab of jealousy speared right through my heart. There could be a very rational explanation for this. That’s what Dr. Ahrendt would say. Maybe there was.

  I tapped in my employee ID code and walked into the break room as Ryan hung up the phone. A smile was plastered on his face. Okay, so he was happy to talk to her. No need to freak out. “What’s got you all happy, DeShane?”

  “You.” Smooth. And five minutes ago, I would have totally eaten that up.

  I pointed to his cell, which he still had clutched in his hand. “Phone call?”

  “Yeah. Lex. Finally on good terms with her.”

  Good terms? What the hell did that even mean?