Pressure Point (Point #2)

by Olivia Luck

  “Hmm.”

  My stomach wobbles anxiously, thinking of the next part of the story. “I haven’t heard from him in two weeks and then today Zoe sought me out. She’s in the city and we made up. Well, I don’t think we were ever fighting, but we’re fighting for the friendship that she once had. Zoe seems to think Blake wants me back.”

  “Of course, he does,” Mom says with absolute certainty that I don’t share. “How could he not want my sweet Stella?”

  Great question.

  “Even if he does want me back, can I accept him? Anytime he gets scared, he shuts me out and it hurts. God, it hurts more than any other pain I’ve experienced.” There’s a throbbing in my chest where my heart is, each thump a painful reminder of Blake’s absence.

  “Love is never easy, cara. When you find the right partner, yes, it’s magnificent. At other times, it’s challenge. Love is finding someone to stand by your side when you screw up, someone to prop you up when you stumble, and to understand and accept your imperfections. To the outside world, Blake’s the ideal man, but you know better. He’s real with flaws and pain, and he needs you, cara. That doesn’t mean that you need to put yourself aside but to recognize at times that you must tell him when you need him.”

  I let her words roll over me. They’re a soothing balm to the ache in my chest, but it doesn’t leave me with an absolute answer. Just more questions: if Blake truly wants me back, will he ever seek me out?

  Butterflies full of nervous energy begin building the moment that I get home from my mother’s home. Even though I’m not going to see Blake tonight, the thought of his house sends my anxiety into overdrive.

  You can do this. He won’t even be there. Five minutes at his place to collect Zoe and Miles and you are out of there. Not a big deal. Um, yeah, the pep talk is so not working. I throw on a sundress and sandals and jog out of my condo building. The walk between our homes is short, only ten minutes, and I’m coming close to his place when I spot them.

  If my heart wasn’t in my throat before I got here, it’s surely lodged there now. My pulse launches into overdrive and my palms go sweaty. Blake and Cam stand outside the gate, talking. I’m not close enough to make out their words, but they aren’t moving. They’re chatting, both dressed for a workout in gym shorts, t-shirts, and baseball caps. Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully neither of them spots me from where I cower half a block away.

  I’m not proud of what I do next, but my fight or flight response kicks in. What do I do? I take flight, walking quickly around the street corner. I yank my phone out of my purse and begin furiously texting Violet. The distraction doesn’t help. I still think that I could jump out of my skin if even a squirrel crosses my path.

  Like a coward, I wait, eyes glued to the screen of my smart phone. One minute crawls by. Five minutes amble past slower than a three-toed sloth. Finally, seven minutes later, I peer around the corner and find the sidewalk in front of the house empty.

  I push past the internal voice asking if Blake stayed or left with Cam and press my thumb into the intercom at the gate.

  “Stella?”

  “It’s me,” I say.

  “Come in. We can take the car.”

  I half expect Blake to answer the door when I arrive on top of the stone steps like he did the first time that I came to this place, but it’s Zoe who tugs the door open.

  “Blake’s out of town?” I ask without preamble.

  She doesn’t have the grace to look chagrined. In fact, my friend grins at me wickedly. “What can I say? I want you two together. You make him happy; he makes you happy. There’s not much more to it. Love conquers all and blah, blah, blah.”

  Rolling my eyes, I close the distance between her and hug her. “He hasn’t contacted me in two weeks. I think it’s safe to say that he’s moving on.”

  “Doubtful,” she hums. “It’s my estimation that he’s planning a big bang to get you back.” With that not-so-telling statement, she leaves me pondering what in the heck that could mean as she spins on her heels, heading toward the living room where I spot the same tall, dark-haired man that I saw at Zoe’s place in New Point. He’s gazing at her with unmasked adoration.

  This is the positive, upbeat friend who I remember having. The sunny disposition is admirable, really, but I can’t fake my emotions. Seeing Blake reminds me that I’m a hollowed out shell of myself without him. I’ve lost my appetite and the comforting feeling of knowing Zoe’s back in my life for good.

  No one likes a downer, so I do what I do best, affix a smile on my face and make sure everyone has a pleasant evening.

  Meanwhile, I’m steeling myself with nerves because I know what I have to do as soon as Violet and Max have said ‘I do.'

  I need to settle my outstanding feelings with Blake.

  Blake

  The door slams shut with a pathetic shutter. I’ve taken to letting out my aggression on inanimate objects like doors, punching bags, drawers, and Cam’s face when we sparred a little while ago.

  “What did that door do to you?” Mile’s grinning, leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer casually dangling from his fingertips.

  Eying him grimly, I get my own beverage from the fridge and pop it open before I answer. “This coming from the king of fucking up relationships.”

  The guy has the gall to laugh, not upset by my insult in the least. “You’ve got me there.”

  “It wasn’t all his fault.” Zoe appears, resting her cheek on Mile’s upper arm. I avert my gaze momentarily when he kisses her forehead, still not used to my sister sharing affection with a guy. “Something tells me with Stella, you were predominantly in the wrong.”

  The beer offsets some of the heat building inside of me. It’s not because I’m angry with Stella. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. Shame. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I snap. Then, after a few cleansing breaths, “You’re right,” I say gruffly. “She deserves better than a self-absorbed prick.”

  “You could never be a prick,” Zoe tells me tenderly. Knowing that my sister still holds me in such a high regard, despite my bad behavior, eases some of my self-loathing.

  Over the past two weeks, I’ve tortured myself, running through my relationship with Stella bit by bit. What I found made me nearly sick to my stomach.

  “I took her for granted,” I admit shamelessly. “Stella gave and I took. All this time we dated and I hardly asked about her work, her family. She gave everything I wanted, and I didn’t think to return her support.” I shake my head of the self-deprecating thoughts. They won’t get me anywhere.

  “You’re going to fix this,” Zoe says, reading my mind.

  “I’ve got some things in mind,” I confirm grimly, though my confidence isn’t as high as normally. “This self doubt thing is new to me. Even when I played at the freaking national championship, I just went into winner take all mode. When mom died and I became your guardian, it was like I knew exactly what to do. I didn’t have a fucking clue how to be a father, but I didn’t think for once second that I couldn’t do it. And now…I’m terrified.”

  Before Stella came along, I’d never think to bare my soul like this to my sister or anyone, for that matter. Now, though, the thought of living without Stella scares me down to my core. If I hadn’t been so self-centered, I would be able to show my fear to Stella. Since she’s not around, I’ll rely on my sister for the first time. The roles are reversed and I’m thankful that at this moment I can lean on her.

  “Stella’s the most forgiving, selfless person I know,” Zoe says, “And she recognizes that you are just as giving and wonderful.”

  I force a weak smile. “Thanks, Cupcake.”

  Zoe extracts herself from Miles’ embrace, rushing across the kitchen to throw her arms around me. “Thank you for talking to me like your equal.” Her voice is muffled by my t-shirt, but the words strike me hard.

  I clear the lump forming in my throat. “You’re a good sister, Zoe.”

  “And you’re the best brother,”
she whispers back. I glance up to where Miles had stood before, but he drifted away at some point to give us privacy.

  Good man.

  “I love you, Blake.”

  “Love you back, Cupcake.”

  “You’ll get her back. Trust me. Remember though, as much as her selflessness is a positive trait, it’s something that you can’t forget, brother.”

  She doesn’t need to tell me twice. Thoughts of my angelic Snow White twisted through my mind, and I know what I have to do to be in a relationship with her. Fuck, it’s actually simple.

  Give and take.

  Blake

  “You’re pathetic, man.”

  Tossing an empty water bottle in the direction of where Cam sits on the locker room bench, I don’t bother disagree.

  Since I last saw Stella, I’ve done nothing but brood and plot. When I wasn’t doing one of those two things, I’ve spent all my energy thinking about my girl. God, I need her back. Cam practically dragged me out of my office an hour ago to exercise with him in the facilities beneath the Scrapers administrative offices. The fucker had me in a pair of skates, sending slap shots his way.

  “Is the great Blake Campbell scared of the cute little Italian?”

  “Dude, don’t.” There’s an air of finality in my voice, brokering no room for argument and Cam finishes applying deodorant and dressing.

  Didn’t take much to get me back to brooding.

  I thrust a frustrated hand through my hair still damp from the shower. “Look, I messed things up with her really badly and now I’m going to surprise her at a wedding with her entire family. Her dad, Carlo, might gut me, and if he doesn’t, her mom surely will.” Admitting fear is not something I’m used to, but I’m learning that to be in love means to be vulnerable. Can’t hide my emotions forever.

  Cam nods like he understands, but there’s no way that he can get what I’m feeling. The guy’s never been in love; he has a different woman wrapped around his finger every other week. Kind of like I was until I yanked off my blinders and realized perfection was only a few feet away.

  I won’t take no for an answer. If I need to convince her mother, her father, every cousin, Violet—whatever she demands, I’ll do. To have her back in my arms, smelling her sweet scent, touching her milky white, silky skin is what I want more in this world.

  “You out, man?” I ask Cam once we’re both dressed and walking down the black and gold carpet toward the main entrance.

  “Yup. Gotta take the dog out. Not to get all emotional on you, bro, but I like Stella for you, too. She makes you more human.”

  More than you know.

  “Let me know how it goes. Okay?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I find him looking at me sincerely. I jerk my head once. “Thanks, Cam. I will.” The goalie roughly slaps me on the back, as if to assert his testosterone levels. I’m smirking to myself when I veer toward the stairs leading toward the set of offices. Briskly, I walk through reception. It’s lunchtime on Friday and Marla’s away from her desk. Most of the team is working steadily, preparing for the launch of a new season in a few weeks.

  Thinking of the impending hockey season turns my thoughts to Stella. When I got back from New Point and cooled down, I realized how little I knew about Stella’s work with the Chicago Center. Brent, the Director of Operations for the Center, got a few phone calls from me asking for a status report. To no surprise of mine, Stella wowed him on the regular and has been working her ass off since she was assigned to the project in April. Brent told me he had no idea how she found the time to consistently deliver top-notch work.

  That’s my girl.

  Despite Violet and Max’s wedding festivities beginning tonight, she has an important presentation for Brent and his little minion Ryan Sullivan. In fact, they’re going to her office in a few minutes to see her presentation and then, at Brent’s prediction, sign on for the next phase.

  Deep in thoughts of Stella and her relationship with the Chicago Center, I’m not paying attention to my surroundings until I hear the cackle Sullivan.

  “Yeah, now that Campbell’s dumped her, I’m moving in. Bitch will need to keep me happy to keep our business.”

  Come again? My shoulders go tense and my body goes rock hard, pausing outside of Sullivan’s office.

  The door to the office gaps open while this guy runs his mouth.

  “Not really sure how Stella landed a guy like Blake, she must give amazing head. I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  My instantaneous reaction is feral. A growl gurgles in my throat when I lay a flat hand on the palm of the already open door and slam it against the wall. The fucker jumps, literally startling in his chair and dropping the cell phone in his hand.

  “What the fuck,” I hiss. My body’s taut, three seconds from violence, hands clenched in tight fists.

  Sullivan’s lips go white and fall open like a cod fish, gulping with silent shock. Now you don’t want to talk? Fury rips through me at some peon daring to speak of my Stella so disrespectfully. And in my place of business, no less. If it weren’t for the fact that I plan to get my girl back tomorrow, I’d pulverize him. I’d rather not spend the night in jail, so I use my words.

  “Did I stutter?” I snarl, taking a step forward.

  “Blake. This is a simple misunderstanding. You didn’t hear what you thought you heard,” he lies.

  A red mist settles over my gaze. Clenching my fist tighter as to not punch this loser across the face, I fight to maintain control.

  “Pack up your shit and get out of my sight. There is a zero tolerance policy for sexual harassment against employees and vendors. You should know; you were on the fucking committee that organized the employee pledge.” My tone is steely, conveying I don’t buy his bullshit.

  “Blake, come on –”

  “Do not speak. You disgust me, Sullivan. Get the fuck out of my building. You have three seconds or I will have security escort you out.”

  Knowing the spineless fish will do as I say, I stalk out of the room and make a beeline straight to Brent’s office. Without knocking, I thrust the door open. Brent turns toward me, surprised.

  “Blake, what can I do for you?” The man’s all class, professionalism down to the crisp suits that he wears to work every day. How he works with garbage like Sullivan shocks me. But that won’t last for much longer.

  “Ryan Sullivan no longer works here. I overheard him making derogatory comments about my girlfriend. Were you aware that he was sexually harassing her?” Rage nearly boils over. I want to blame someone for this fuck-up.

  “I – No, of course not. That’s unacceptable,” Brent says immediately.

  Fuck. I’m furious. Yeah, I’m pissed beyond belief at Sullivan, but really…

  “You’ll deal with this? If I see him again, I’ll do something I regret and embarrass the organization. We don’t need a lawsuit on our hands,” I say shortly.

  Brent rambles his apologies, blabbering on about getting rid of Sullivan. But I hardly hear a word. Outside, I’m furious with Sullivan, but the truth is, if I had been more involved with Stella, I would have known about this.

  At the end of the day, I’m mad at myself.

  Again.

  By the time Saturday rolls through, I’ve lost the cloud of self-doubt. I’ve stopped beating myself up for the past. I can’t change that. Now, there’s only the future for me and Stella. But first I need to man up and apologize.

  Yes, without Stella, the past few weeks of my life have been one painful lesson after another. How could I have been so blind? Inconsiderate. Selfish. I’ve called myself every name in the book and it hasn’t been enough. I’ve looked back on my relationship with Stella, remembering every time that she gave up a little piece of herself for me. I relished in her attention and the way that she offered herself without reservation, but I never considered that she would need the same thing in return. I took and took and took.

  That stops now.

  Dragging the razor along my sh
aving cream-covered cheek, I finish the ritual quickly. I pat the aftershave Stella loves on then head into the closet to dress. I step into the dark navy suit pants, button the white dress shirt, and knot the tie that Stella helped me pick out. She doesn’t know how I spent the past three weeks considering our relationship. She doesn’t know that I’ve been planning on seeing her today for the past three weeks. I’m going to her humbly begging for another chance.

  Never let ‘em see you sweat.

  When it comes to Stella, all my walls and defenses came crumbling down. Tonight I’m going to show her the confident man, the one who knows that he is meant to be with her. Forever. There’s not a whisper of worry haunting me when I navigate my car to the Lane Hotel where Violet and Max are getting married and having their wedding reception.

  I had forgotten about the event, the one that Stella had been looking forward to for months, and I knew it hurt her. Hell, I saw the wound before my very eyes and let it pass. Well, I’m here now, and I’m never forgetting something important to her again.

  The wedding is being held at the rooftop deck of a boutique hotel in Lincoln Park. Indian summer has stuck around and the weather is pleasant enough for an outdoor ceremony. It’s a small affair, though with the Baccino family that still means fifty people are milling around the deck waiting for the event to begin. Teresa, Stella’s mother, spots me before anyone else does and flounces toward me. I don’t tense in apprehension of what she might say. If she needs convincing that I deserve her daughter, I will gladly do whatever it takes.

  There’s no need to lay forth my case because Teresa nods approvingly when she reaches me. I bend down automatically to accept the kisses that she presses into my cheeks and murmur a respectful greeting. “Good man,” she says sharply. “But you mess up again, and you’re gone for good.”

  “It won’t happen.” I say humbly.

  We have an unspoken conversation, but the matriarch knows what’s in my heart by looking at me. Twinkling wind chimes interrupt our reunion and indicate that we should take our seats. Teresa tugs me into a row with her and Carlo, though I politely request the aisle seat. Carlo greets me stiffly, but when I shake his hand and offer a sincere request to see his daughter after the ceremony, he relents.