Tee It Up: A Wilder Brothers Romance

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Tee It Up: A Wilder Brothers Romance Page 9

by Megan Hetherington


  I take a long sip of my wine, letting it swirl around my mouth as I ruminate on what he has said.

  “So, this is us as friends talking now rather than doctor and patient.”

  “Friends?” He raises his brows at me.

  “Well, you have brought pizza, and it’s from Pizza Hut. In my book that makes you a friend.” I place my half-eaten pizza slice onto my napkin and lean back onto the sofa. “You’re over-thinking stuff Johnson. People fall in love all the time, in many random situations at any time of their lives. Most have baggage and all are afraid. But you need to go with it. Let those feel-good chemicals flood your body and recognize that they are there not just to motivate you to have sex…” He huffs, which I register but finish my sentence, “but to fall in love too.”

  He picks off crumbs from his thighs onto his napkin. “See here’s the thing.” He then takes several gulps of his wine, placing the empty glass onto the table. “I am getting all of those feelings, the chemicals and stuff, and I know it’s not about sex.” He huffs again, “but I don’t have the confidence to take the next step.” He shakes his head. “Because for once in my life that next step looks as if it’s made from quicksand.”

  For once I’m cautious to read between the lines. The way he has shifted his body toward me and the depth of his gaze makes me shiver.

  Slowly and quietly, I ask. “Who is this next step with?”

  He turns away from me, rests his elbows on his thighs and clasps his hands together, letting his head hang. Then after several seconds of my heart beating at twice its normal rate he rotates his head and on a breath, blows out. “You.”

  Before I react, he bangs his palms onto his knees and stands. “Anyway, on that bombshell, I suppose I better leave.” And without looking back at me walks off toward his shoes.

  I plonk my glass on the table, unfurl my legs and run after him. “Johnson. Wait. I…”

  He turns to face me as I hurtle toward him.

  “I… You.” I catch my breath, my hand resting on his forearm. “You haven’t waited for my response.”

  He laughs. “I don’t need to, it’s obv…”

  I raise up onto my tiptoes and brush my lips onto his, cutting off his rebuke. Pulling back, I register there is little in the way of a response.

  “Oh.” I press my fist into the small of my back. “That’s awkward.”

  His face flushes up. “I’m sorry Meredith, I’d be no good right now.” He puts his hand up to my face, cupping it with his palm.

  “Sorry.”

  With that, I watch him slip into his shoes and walk out on me.

  I close the door on him and roll my head over so my back is against the solid wood. What on earth have I done?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Johnson

  My head is a fucking mess. There’s not a single lucid thought in there right now.

  I trip down the stairs and stride off down the street toward Blane’s. When I realize I’ve left my jacket at Meredith’s with the keys to Blane’s apartment in the pocket I slow my pace, wondering if I dare go back to get it. Instead, I shove my hands in the pockets of my pants and hurry on.

  I’d rather face the wrath of Yasmin and her pregnancy hormones when I wake her up than embarrass myself with Meredith again.

  What the fuck was I thinking telling her I was falling in love?

  I’d gone to leave pizza, that should have been it.

  Sorry, I’m an ass, here’s pizza to make up for it.

  I kick out at a can littering the sidewalk; it lifts and clangs against the railings of a house.

  Fortunately, the lights are still on at Blane and Yasmin’s apartment, and Blane even sounds awake when he answers the intercom.

  “Hey bro! How was your date?” He shouts across from the sofa when I enter the apartment.

  I ignore his question and go straight to the refrigerator.

  The light when I open the doors, illuminates the kitchen area. “You got any beers in here amongst all this healthy shit?”

  “No idea. Yasmin seems to have taken to stocking the refrigerator and seemingly rearranging it every day. Nesting she calls it.”

  “Where is she anyway?” I shove the jars and bottles to one side of the shelf, so I can pull out a lonely can of Bud Light from the back.

  “In bed. She’s good for nothing after eight pm at the moment. Not long to go now though.”

  “I hope you’re keeping close to her from now on though bro. I can’t go through another episode like that false alarm the other week. I thought I would have to deliver your baby on the freeway.”

  “No chance of that happening. You don’t think I’m gonna let you take another significant moment of my life from me.”

  I hop over the back of the sofa and lay out with my head resting back on my elbow. “You make that sound like I’ve taken other significant shit from you?”

  I wonder why I’ve asked that? Am I on that much of a downer I feel the need to invite everyone to tell me how much of a douche bag I am?

  He turns down the volume on the TV. “Now you point it out, yeah it does and with good cause. You’ve always acted like the top dog. Even on shit that doesn’t matter. In fact, especially on shit that doesn’t matter.”

  Seems I am on a downer.

  “Like what?”

  “That whole Cherie business for starters. You didn’t need to pick her to be your decoy or fake girlfriend. But you knew if you did, it would cause grief for me.”

  “In what way?”

  “She was my PA, and we were happily doing our thing, then you came along and threw a spanner in the works.”

  “Not sure I agree with that, Blane. I merely brought the issue of her wanting to be with you to the surface. Anyway, it was before you and Yasmin got together.”

  “Some things don’t need to be brought to the surface. They are better off unexposed, left to fade away to nothing.”

  “Hmm.” I tap my foot to the low volume beat of Dr. Dre. “You may have a point there, but I find it hard to ignore issues like that.”

  “What are you on about now?”

  I take a large pull on my beer.

  “Dunno, just the usual women stuff. Anyway, what’s this you watching? Looks interesting.”

  “A business program.”

  “Huh? What’s Dr. Dre got to do with business?”

  “It’s about his deal with Beats. Look man, stop trying to change the subject. What’s going down with you at the moment? Your games off, again, and you’re in the news for all the wrong reasons, again.” He turns the TV off. “When you gonna sort your shit out? From where I’m sitting you’re no longer the big brother I should look up to. You’re turning into a washed up has been, just like…”

  “Dad.” I finish his sentence off for him. “Yup, I know and I’m trying to get help from one of these sports psychologist types. That’s where I was tonight at a meeting with Dr. Meredith Fairchild. It wasn’t a date, I was trying to sort out arrangements for her to accompany me to Augusta for the tournament.” I open my mouth and pour a steady stream of beer down my throat. “The only problem is…”

  “You’ve fallen for her.”

  We both laugh, and not in a light, funny way. A nervous, embarrassed recognition of how fucking predictable I can be.

  “Shit, Johnson, you can’t spend five minutes in the company of a woman without succumbing to the call of her titties and ass.”

  I lean over and place the empty can on the table.

  “I know man, and I don’t disagree. That’s exactly how I am, but, and don’t laugh here bro, because I’m being serious. Meredith’s different and it’s not about the titties and ass with her. It’s about the way she moves and her refined way of talking. She’s got sass but in a grown up kinda way.”

  He whistles. “Shit, Johnson, you have got it bad. Never thought I’d see the day that you admired a woman’s personality over a booty call.”

  I huff at his remark.

  “It’s … I’
m not sure what to do about it?”

  He sneers his top lip at me. “You’re not sure what to do about it? Fuck bro, what’s gotten into you? When did you need an instruction manual?”

  I blow out a breath and sit up, raking my fingers through my hair. “I know. My head’s in pieces. I’ve got no confidence for anything right now. Golf. Women. Life. I’ve even… yeah everything’s gone.” I can’t bring myself to admit to the problem with my buddy downstairs. That’s a step too far with anyone, especially one of my brothers who has had years of fine-tuning the art of one-upmanship. Who knows when he might use that little gem against me.

  “I know this is gonna sound a little unusual for you Johnson, but why don’t you try a more conventional route.”

  “That’s what tonight was.”

  “I thought you said it was a meeting and not a date. If you tried to hit up on her during that, no wonder it didn’t work. You need to go slow, man. One step at a time. Get to know her and…” he laughs, “let her get to know you.”

  “Who’d have thought I would take relationship advice from you?”

  “I know, but see where I am now. If this is what you want, you’re gonna have to change your MO. Get back to basics and keep that dick of yours on a leash.”

  “Fucking hell there’s no danger of that being the problem.”

  He gives me a quizzical look.

  “Yeah, never mind. One step at a time heh?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I would do, anyway. Get to know her as a friend might. Hang out. Take her places. Let her into your life. Even invite her to that fancy house of yours that you let no-one in for fear of leaving footprints on your fancy white carpets. Try to prove to her you aren’t the playboy she and every other woman judges you to be.” He pauses, waggling his finger in a way he’s been dying to do all his life. “Just make sure she can return those feelings, before you commit. Which means calling a halt to the doctor patient thing.”

  “You’re correct on that score. She’d get struck off, or whatever they call it, if she’s found to be dating a patient.”

  “Yeah, but don’t forget to watch out for the signs from her. If she’s not got feelings for you, don’t pursue it. You’ve got that Augusta championship coming up remember? You need her for that first. Otherwise you’ve got nothing, bro. No golf. No woman. Nothing.”

  “Yeah, I need that man. Need that bad.”

  He rests back on the sofa. “Anyway, what exactly happened tonight?”

  Feeling a little more relaxed with my emotions and sure my brother is on my side, I tell him. “So, we went to dinner, I got thinking about her and me and it messed with my appetite, so I told her I was sick and we left early. Or should I say I put her in a cab home. Then I felt shitty about it so I got pizza carry-out, took it to her place, we ate and I said something about falling for her, she tried to kiss me and then I ran out.”

  He curls his fist in front of his mouth. “You did what? Unreal bro! That has got to be the shittiest date that never was. How the fuck are you going to pull it back from there?”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “You need to at least text an apology. Tell her you were sick again and had to leave before you puked in her apartment.”

  I screw up my face.

  “Well, not those exact words, you know, apologize and say you was sick.”

  “Yeah, perhaps. Anyway, I need you to do me a favor. I left my jacket there. I need you pick it up for me in the morning.”

  “Like fuck I do.”

  “Well, what’s Yasmin got on tomorrow?”

  Blane laughs, a belly creasing laugh. “You’re seriously considering asking Yasmin, in her full-on, hormone riddled state, to run an errand? And for you of all people. Jeez man you need to grow a pair.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I guess I’ll have to ask Cherie when she comes over in the morning for our meeting.”

  This time he hangs off the sofa he’s laughing that much.

  I shake my head. “For fuck's sake where the hell did we get all these sassy women from?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Meredith

  I don’t have a good night’s sleep and I’m at the office unusually early. I need to talk to Hector and I can’t function until I do.

  For the zillionth time I touch my lips, resurrecting the memory of me lurching toward Johnson and landing that kiss on his mouth. The embarrassment when he pulled away was mortifying.

  I wait by the window, watching for Hector to pull his station wagon into the parking lot, then I open my door to catch him when he enters the offices.

  “Meredith?” He pushes on the ajar door.

  “Yes Hector, come in. I left the door open, so I’d catch you as I need to talk to you.”

  He comes in and places his attaché case on one of my chairs.

  “Yes, no problem, but I need coffee.”

  “Sure. I’ll get us both one. You sit there.” I hurry down to the vending machine in the hallway, keen to give something in return for the advice I’m hoping to receive.

  I hand over one of the cups, the plastic wobbling with the heat.

  “Okay.” I say on a breath and sit down opposite him. “So, Johnson Wilder.”

  “Ah yeah, the golfer. Great guy. We had an awesome round of golf at the weekend.”

  “Yes, a great guy.” I repeat his words. “Well, the thing is.” I smooth down the front of my skirt with flat palms. “It seems as if he might have feelings toward me.” I bite my lip while I wait for his response.

  He’s grimacing, but not from what I’ve said, but from scalding his mouth on the hot beverage.

  “What makes you suspect that?” He still seems more interested in his coffee than my revelation. “He mentioned nothing about you. Other than this trip to Augusta.”

  “Well, we went to dinner last night, as you agreed with him.”

  He glances up. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, anyway, it was curtailed because he became sick, but then he turned up at my apartment with pizza and said he had feelings for me.”

  “What exactly did he say? I mean could there have been any misinterpretations?”

  “He said he had feelings, but couldn’t take the next step because it was likely to be quicksand.”

  “So, what’s the problem? He’s declared he’s not going to do anything about it and as you know it’s perfectly normal for patients to have feelings for their psychologist. We're usually the first people in their life who truly listen to them. It means we’re doing our job right. You’re doing well, Meredith, and I’m very pleased at how this foray into sports psychology is going. And Johnson Wilder is such a genuinely nice guy. I’m going to play at his golf club when we next have a round together.”

  “But I don’t want to do the wrong thing or for it to be misconstrued.”

  He rises off his seat, still seemingly more interested in the coffee than what I have to say to him.

  “You won’t Meredith. You’re a class act and you have the ability to make this a success. Just don’t go inviting him to your apartment again.”

  “I didn’t… he… oh, never mind.”

  “Anyway, got to dash, I’ve got a meeting with a contact Johnson has given me, could open up more clients for us.”

  Oh great.

  “Hector.” He turns. “Why don’t you go to Augusta instead of me?”

  He shakes his head. “Oh, how I’d love to Meredith. But Nancy…” he sucks air in between his teeth. “She’s not keen on me being away from home right now.”

  ✽✽✽

  So, despite the awkward evening out, an apologetic text from Johnson and my insistent boss means I’m now knocking on Johnson’s hotel room door with sweaty palms and not so steady legs.

  Everything about this swanky hotel has me feeling nervous. The array of internationally famous golfers I’ve seen milling around; the camera crews camped outside the hotel gates; and Johnson, beyond this thin piece of wood, in a room with a bed.

  I rock on
my heels, lift my face up to the ceiling and wish the floor would open.

  If Hector hadn’t been insistent and my professional pride weak, I would not be here right now. Or that’s what I’ve been telling myself in the maze of corridors I’ve walked down to get here.

  “Just a minute,” he calls out from the other side of the door and I listen nervously to him scurrying about. My fingers are crossed behind my back hoping he’s not bundling a woman into his bathroom. I knew we should have met in the foyer or out on the course. But oh no, he insisted on the privacy of his room, or as I quickly dismissed, mine.

  “Hey. You got checked in okay?” he asks as he opens the door.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  He steps aside and I gingerly enter the room. With relief, I note that it is tidy and even the bed, I spy through the adjacent bedroom door, is made up.

  “Coffee?” He points to the small machine on the low shelves running along the side of the wall. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you anything stronger, I requested the mini-bar be de-stocked.”

  “Sure, coffee’s fine.” I say, as I wander up to the window that overlooks an expanse of grass, bordered with a few brightly colored shrubs.

  “Nothing exciting to see from here. I don’t normally spend much time in my room on a tour.” His attempt at small talk is a little unnerving and not natural, so I get to the business in hand. Recalling the words I had rehearsed repeatedly on the flight here.

  “So, Johnson. As you know, I consider this situation unconventional, but we’ll work with it. It’s not necessary to discuss what happened the other night as I’m mindful that you are to play tomorrow and don’t want to confuse matters. So, we’ll stick to the golf today and train your mind to eliminate those self-destructive thoughts that appear when you least want them to.”

 

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