Avoiding Amy Jackson

by N. A. Alcorn

  “Well, labia face, Trent and I are going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow night at work?” Ellen gets off of her barstool as Trent pays their tab.

  “Yep, I’ll see you tomorrow night in the trenches.” I stand up and give her a quick hug. “Bye, Trent. Take care of my best girl,” I say before I sit back down on my barstool.

  “Goodnight. And, Amy, good luck.” Trent smirks down at me as he wraps his arm around Ellen’s waist.

  “Uh, good luck?” I peer at him dubiously. I have no idea what he is talking about right now.

  “Yeah. Good luck with James.”

  Ellen rolls her eyes towards me when she hears that last comment come from Trent’s mouth.

  “Why in the fuck would I need good luck with James?” Now I’m just curious to see what in the hell else he’s going to say.

  “Well I know that you want nothing to do with him, and he knows you’re doing your best to stay on the defense, but James isn’t going to give up. He’s stealthy and determined, and your persistence at being a complete bitch to him, well… It’s only making him more determined. Plus, you should know that James is a former Marine, so everything he does is calculated and strategic.”

  I look at Trent like he has three heads and a dildo strapped around his waist. “What are you trying to say? That James has some master plan to win my affection?” I huff out a breath. “Are you being serious right now, Trent?”

  Trent raises his hands and looks down at Ellen when he hears her sigh in annoyance. “Look, I’m not trying to piss both of you off. Amy, you’re my girl, I’ll always have your back, even more so than James. I’m just trying to throw you a little warning. So seriously…good luck.”

  I wave goodbye to both of them as they head out the door, but I can’t get the words Trent said out of my head. Good luck? I mean, come on. Good luck? I don’t need luck. Dr. Limp Dick needs luck to keep his balls intact if he plans on attempting any more ambushes like he did tonight on the dance floor.

  Military… Pfffft. That doesn’t scare me. I can handle a Marine any day of the week.

  Marines.

  Men in uniform.

  James in uniform.

  Well, that definitely does something for me…

  Ah, fuck.

  Chapter Five

  “Occasionally getting women riled up is worth the hassle.

  There is no denying the fact that angry fucking is the best kind of fucking.” - James

  I manage to get out of the OR earlier than expected. I’m exhausted and starving. One hip replacement, two ACL repairs, and one reconstruction of a shattered ankle are more than enough for one day. I walk into Trent’s office to find him peering down at his laptop, his brow furrowed intensely.

  “Don’t look too serious there, Dr. Hamilton, or you might start looking like an actual surgeon,” I say as I sit down in the worn leather chair that faces his desk. He really needs to update his office. His aversion to giving the appearance that he has money is something his frugal ass needs to get over.

  He doesn’t even take the time to glance up from his laptop before responding. “James, I wish you were actually funny.” Trent finally pulls his eyes away from the screen and leans back in his chair, his arms resting behind his head. “What brings your ugly mug into my office?”

  “Lunch?”

  He checks his watch and notes the time. It’s already two, but I can guarantee his ass hasn’t left his office. “Am I going to have to listen to you commiserate about a certain nurse?”

  “Fuck you. Let’s go. I’m driving.” I stand up and pulled the keys out of my pocket.

  “No way. I’ll drive. I’ve got Ellie’s Mustang.” He grins wide then grabs his suit jacket from the back of his chair and heads for the door.

  We make our way out of his office and I hop in the passenger’s seat of one of the sweetest muscle cars I have ever laid eyes on. Ellen has fantastic taste in transportation, and I can understand why Trent would want to drive this bad ass Shelby Mustang around.

  “How in the hell did you manage to get the Shelby today?” I ask incredulously. Even I know that car is Ellen’s pride and joy.

  Trent revs the engine loudly. The tires squeal as he pulls out of the parking lot. “I didn’t really manage it, per se. I left the house before she did and I’m sure there will be hell to pay when I get home tonight.” He chuckles quietly as he switches lanes on the main road, the engine purring when he accelerates past a minivan to hop onto the highway. “I have a feeling there’s going to be some serious angry-fucking tonight and I can’t wait.”

  I chortle and shake my head as I glance out the window. “Do you do shit like this just to get Ellen riled up?”

  Trent doesn’t even humor me with a response. Just a simple laugh and a knowing grin are answer enough. He continues to speed down the highway, and the speedometer indicates we’re cruising at around ninety. That’s the dangerous thing about cars like these. There’s just no way to actually drive the speed limit when you’re behind the wheel. I mentally convince myself that my next purchase will be a vehicle with enough horsepower to vibrate my ass and threaten to botch my clean record with speeding tickets.

  We finally reach our destination—a small local eatery called Mabie’s that I’ve found has the best Reuben sandwiches I’ve ever tasted. We find a small booth and order without perusing the menu. A young waitress whose nametag reads Ally delivers our drinks with an obvious sashay in her hips. She’s blond, cute, and nicely stacked. If my head weren’t filled with thoughts of Amy, I might have actually paid attention to her.

  “So you’ve been in Charlotte for a while now… Are you happy with your crazy-ass decision to move here?” Trent inquires as he adjusts the cutlery on the table.

  I chuckle slightly. “Yeah, I really like it here. I fell in love with Charlotte when I did my residency at Eden Medical Center, despite the fact that working under hard-ass Dr. Borman wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. There’s just something about this city that feels like home, and I’m glad I opened my practice here.”

  “I’ve heard about Borman and I’ve never heard anyone speak nicely of him. He’s a brilliant fucking surgeon though. You lucked out with that residency.”

  “Is this you indirectly trying to tell me I’m your hero and you look up to me?” A small smile creases my lips.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Trent replies sarcastically. “But seriously, you’re planning on being here permanently? No second thoughts about the move? I mean, you basically just picked up and moved to Charlotte, left all of your family and friends back in Cincy.”

  “No second thoughts. It was definitely the right move. And honestly, most of my closest buddies are guys I met in the Marines and they’re scattered across the country. The only people I really left behind in Cincinnati were my family,” I answer without regret.

  “How are they taking it?”

  I clear my throat after I take a sip from my water. “My mom isn’t exactly thrilled that her only child is seven hours away, but my parents are currently enjoying their retirement by traveling the country, so it’s not like she’s sitting around crying her eyes out. How is your family handling your change in residence? Seattle is a lot farther away from Charlotte than Cincinnati.”

  “Eh, they’re okay with it. I think my mom is more excited about the possibility of Ellen and me getting married and giving her grandbabies.” Trent laughs and shakes his head.

  “Well from the looks of it, I’d say marriage is inevitable for the two of you.”

  “Yeah…actually…” Trent pauses for a moment. “I’m going to propose to Ellen,” Trent pronounces with a megawatt grin plastered to his face.

  “Really? Congrats, man. I can’t say I’m surprised, but that’s pretty huge,” I say, acknowledging his announcement with nothing but excitement.

  “I know. I went shopping with your friend Amy yesterday. She’s been covertly getting ring ideas from Ellen.” My eyebrows rise immediately at the sound of her name.

&nb
sp; “How’s Amy?” I lamely question.

  Trent chuckles at my unsuccessful attempt in sounding unaffected and kindly puts me out of my misery. “She’s good, her usual sarcastic self.” Trent knows that this woman has me more than intrigued. His amused expression is evident.

  I decide to leave my pride outside of the cafe and work towards gaining as much information about the enigma that is Amy Jackson. “So…do you know if she’s dating anyone?”

  Trent’s forehead crinkles in mild curiosity. “Amy Jackson does not date. I would have thought you of all people would have at least that figured out by now.”

  I look at him skeptically, silently mulling over his last statement. “Yeah, I understand that Amy Jackson enjoys indulging. A lot. One-night-stand kind of indulgence.” I automatically wince when that last sentiment rolls off of my tongue and burrows itself inside of my chest. “But that can’t be all she does. Has Ellen ever talked about Amy being in a relationship or dating a steady guy for any length of time?”

  Trent shakes his head with three determined, concise movements. “Nope. Like I said before, Amy Jackson doesn’t date. I’ve had this conversation with Ellen and I recall her saying, ‘The last time my best friend had a boyfriend, she was fifteen years old.’”

  My jaw goes unhinged. “Fifteen?”

  “You heard correctly.”

  “Holy shit. It’s like she uses brazen outward displays of sexuality to protect herself from something…” I trail off as I consider this idea.

  Does Amy avoid relationships and focus on one-night stand bullshit because she’s actually avoiding something? I don’t really get it. I know she comes from a good family. I can’t fathom what she could have in her life that is so bad that she avoids any type of emotional attachment.

  “Any luck on that situation? Is she still in mega-bitch mode whenever she’s graced with your presence?” he questions with an interested tone.

  “No luck. I’m still walking around with blue balls from the other night at the bar. That girl left me high and dry on the dance floor, used my own words against me.”

  I wanted her so bad that night.

  I can still taste the sweet saltiness of her skin. I can still feel the soft curves of her body pressed against me. The sound of her sharp intake of breath and momentary second of weakness are still present in my brain. They’ve been on constant repeat like a popular pop song on the radio. The only difference is that I feel like I’ll never get tired of them, never get bored with the lyrics. I’m only left desperate for more.

  “Yeah, I saw that. She’s quite the pistol. Ready to give up yet?” he asks with curiosity.

  “Never. I’m never giving up. I’ll get on her good side eventually. I realize I could sustain more physical injuries, but it’ll happen.”

  Trent grins with hilarity, and I’m sure he’s thinking about the handprint she left ingrained on my face the day I helped Ellen move. “You are a masochist.” He points his index finger in my direction. “That woman is a fucking puzzle, and I think you’re in over your head, Williams. She’s out of your league in a ‘you’re never going to understand her’ kind of way.” Trent relaxes back in the booth, his elbows resting comfortably on the table.

  I bet it’s easy to be relaxed and content when you’ve found the woman you’re meant to spend the rest of your life and she actually returns your affection. There’s just something about Amy. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. Something that has me more captivated than any woman I’ve ever met. Yeah, she’s sarcastic and has the ability to be the biggest bitch on the planet, but there’s more to her. There are secrets behind her eyes, a vulnerability that she hides behind her outward display of blatant sexuality and total disregard for caring about what anyone thinks. I want to know her secrets. I want to make her vulnerable. I want to see the tender side she hides from everyone.

  She’s turning me into a pussy.

  “I’m going to take a different approach,” I declare, more for myself than for Trent.

  He sits up a little; both elbows still rest on the table as he places his chin in his hands. “I’ve gotta hear this.”

  “I’m going to talk her into being friends first, and I’m going to use your precious soon-to-be fiancée as ammunition. And then once I get on her good side, I’ll get on her better side.”

  Trent runs his hand across his forehead as he peers up at me in incredulity. “I can’t wait to watch this all unfold. I hope it works out for you, man. I really do. But I have my doubts. If I know anything about Amy, it’s that she does not respond well to being backed into a proverbial corner.”

  I smirk as I recollect the memory of the other night.

  I definitely attempted to back her into a corner on the dance floor. Yeah, we were right in the middle of the bar, but I tried to use her obvious attraction to me in hopes that she would let that ironclad guard down.

  “Don’t doubt it. It’s going to happen. And if I have to pull your ass in to help me, you’ll fucking help me.”

  He holds up both of his hands instantly. “Whoa. How in the hell did I get roped into this? I have no desire to get on Amy’s bad side.”

  I point my index finger towards him with a pointed expression. “You’ll do it because I helped you pull off that ridiculous profession of love for Ellen via karaoke at Murphy’s Pub.”

  I’ve got Trent right where I want him. He can’t deny my part in helping him pull off his little performance for his soon-to-be fiancée. I was the one who went to the bar and got everything set up and ready to go so Trent could sing his heart out to the lyrics of Ray LaMontagne. Yeah, my buddy is quite the romantic. Despite the fact that his terrible voice and off-key singing leaves a lot to be desired, Trent’s big romantic gesture managed to sweep Ellen right off her feet. They’ve been together ever since.

  “What is it with this woman that has you reducing yourself to scheming for her affection?”

  His inquiry has me racking my brain for a specific reason or a definitive response. “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.”

  “Well…” Trent hesitates for a moment before lifting his glass and saying, “Here’s to helping you find out.” We clink glasses, solidifying his willingness to join in on my cunning plans to get on Amy’s good side.

  The waitress interrupts our conversation when she places our plates of food in front of us and flirtatiously asks if there is anything else we need. Once she leaves our table, I’m left with one of the most delicious sandwiches known to man. I’m also left with a head full of scattered thoughts that are all wrapped up in one woman—Amy.

  Maybe it’s just the fact that she’s a challenge that has me so fascinated?

  I let that question roll around in my brain for a few moments and then send it back where it came from. I know Amy is a challenge. She’s a puzzle, an absolute conundrum of questions. She is feisty and sarcastic, strong and beautiful. Amy has a tender side that I’ve witnessed on more than one occasion in the emergency room when she didn’t think anyone was watching. And for some crazy fucking reason, I find myself wanting to be on the receiving end of that tenderness.

  Cheers to gaining Amy’s friendship, the fact that I’m now a total pussy, and the hope that I come out of this scenario with my balls still intact.

  Chapter Six

  “If he’s at least twenty, sexy, and has a cock that can thrust,

  then I say let the boy stick it in your honey pot.”- Amy

  “All right, spit it out. Give me all of the dirty details about Ryder?”

  Lizzy is sitting on the edge of my bathtub, chatting with me while I get ready for work. Her face flushes crimson as she looks down at her bare, perfectly manicured toes. She tucks her auburn hair behind her ear. “W-what…what do you mean, dirty details? There are no dirty details. Ryder is my trainer.”

  I cough out a laugh as I throw my hair up into a bun. I look at Lizzy through the bathroom mirror. “Oh, come on. You don’t have to act like you don’t realize how ridiculously hot he
is. Just admit it. You’re digging Ryder!”

  “Oh my god! He’s twenty-four. I’m thirty-four. For one, I’m far too old for him. And two, I’m still technically married.” Her stiff demeanor and worked-up expression help prove one thing—I’m one hundred percent right about her attraction towards that sexy piece of muscly man meat.

  “I think you should take advantage of this very cougar-esque situation. Can you even imagine the kinds of things you could teach him? I’m picturing a whole lot of scenarios, and the majority of them include Ryder giving you some serious face-time. His-face-all-up-in-your-snatch kind of face-time. Plus, I know you’re technically still married, but you’re actually in the process of a divorce.”

  Her eyes immediately meet mine and I see a wealth of emotions in her hesitant expression.

  “Has something changed with Matt that you’re not telling me about?” I ask with uncertainty.

  Lizzy made her way to Ellen’s and my doorstep a few months back. She traveled all of the way from Louisville to escape the melancholy life she had been leading with her husband. And by some crazy circumstance, she made the decision to put herself first, which meant becoming a permanent fixture in Charlotte. Things have not been easy for her. They’ve been difficult and heart-wrenching and completely miserable at times. But she’s working through it. She’s finding the woman she lost after she became Mrs. Matt Montgomery III. I honestly couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s made a complete three-sixty from the drunken mess I found on my doorstep. Lizzy is finally doing what she wants. She’s taking classes to finish her teaching degree and making a new life for herself—one that includes being happy.

  “I know I’m in the process of a divorce, but I’m still feeling a little torn. Matt isn’t making this any easier on me. He’s not exactly in agreeance that divorce is our best option. He’s still hoping we work things out,” she responds in a small voice and bites down on her bottom lip, indecision radiating off of her in waves.