Just for Now

by Abbi Glines

What kind of game was he playing? Did he really want to relive this with me?

  “Exactly what you think it means, Preston. You were there. You should know.”

  He was staring at me. I didn’t glance over at him. I focused on driving.

  “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t as confused as fucking hell right now.”

  How was he confused? I had been very specific. He hadn’t kissed me once while we had sex. That was pretty dang clear.

  “I really don’t want to rehash this. It happened. We were acting like it didn’t up until just now, so let’s go back to that. M’kay?

  I tightened my hold on the steering wheel and turned into the traffic. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. Maybe he’d decided to grant my request.

  “Manda, are you telling me that we . . . had sex?”

  The disbelief in his voice was my first clue. Well, maybe it was the first clue that I’d picked up on. I had missed the other clues. The ones where he didn’t explain or frowned like I was crazy. But slowly it was dawning on me. He didn’t remember!

  If the humiliation could get any worse, it just did. He had forgotten we’d had sex. I’d given the jerk my virginity like an idiot, and he’d been with so many girls he couldn’t remember me. Wow. I thought I was over this rejection, but this new knowledge caused a lump in my throat. How could he?

  “Manda, answer me, please. Before I force you to pull this car over and look at me.” Preston’s voice sounded panicked. Why? Didn’t he forget girls he’d screwed all the time? I was now one of many.

  “I just want to take you home and leave. Let’s not talk about this.”

  “Fuck,” Preston growled beside me, and threw his head back against the headrest. “It wasn’t a dream. It’s a memory. Shit.”

  A dream? What was he talking about? Now I was confused.

  “Manda, please tell me I didn’t . . .” He stopped and swallowed loudly, then took a deep breath. “Please tell me I didn’t . . . I didn’t have sex with you in a storage room. On boxes.”

  I couldn’t exactly tell him that. So I didn’t respond. I kept on driving.

  “Fuck me!” Preston roared, and balled up his hands into fists on his legs.

  “I already did that. Didn’t end well,” I replied.

  “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” The emotion in his voice surprised me. Was it that big a deal that we’d had sex? It hadn’t been very memorable for him, obviously. So why was he having a breakdown about it now? I was the one who should be upset. Not him.

  “I’m just being honest,” I replied as I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

  “I thought it was a dream,” he said in a low voice. His head was still back on the headrest and his eyes were closed tightly. I felt a little sorry for him.

  “I’m not going to tell Marcus. If I was going to tell him, I would have done so by now.” I was reassuring him. I couldn’t help myself. I hated seeing him so upset.

  Preston opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m not upset because I think you’re going to tell your brother.” He let out a ragged sigh. “But I guess you’d think that of me. Why wouldn’t you?”

  “You have sex with different girls every night. I was one of them one night. Maybe just the first one that night. Who knows?” The bitterness in my voice couldn’t be helped.

  Preston’s expression looked tortured. “Manda. I was drunk. Very, very drunk. I woke up the next morning and thought it was all a dream. I’ve actually relived it many times in my dreams since then. I never realized I’d . . . God, I can’t believe I took you to a storage unit behind a bar.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

  Okay. I couldn’t take this anymore. He was beating himself up over this, and it was partly my fault. I’d been the idiot, to go outside with him and allow what had happened to happen. I could have put a stop to it.

  “I could have stopped it. I didn’t want to,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him that I’d been fantasizing about having sex with him for years. That was the one piece of this secret I could keep to myself.

  “Why? Why would you let me do that? You deserve so much more than that.” He paused and stared at me intently. “Tell me that wasn’t your first time.”

  Did I lie here? Or did I tell him the truth? Lying would make us both feel better. Or at least, it would make him feel better. I would think about it all the time.

  “I chose to do it. I wasn’t drinking. I was completely sober that night, and I chose to let it be you.”

  Preston slung the car door open and got out. I sat there and watched him as he paced in front of the car. He ran his hands through his hair several times, and I caught myself wishing I could do that. I loved the way his hair felt. That night might be something I regret later in life when I meet the guy I marry, but right now I couldn’t make myself regret it. I had a really good memory of Preston. Even if he hadn’t kissed me and he’d walked away and left me when it was over.

  I sat in the car and watched Preston deal with this information more dramatically than I’d expected him to. When he finally stopped pacing and looked at me, I opened the car door and got out.

  “I was your first. That night. I took your virginity in a shitty storage unit on a bunch of boxes.” It wasn’t a question. He was just stating the facts.

  I nodded.

  “Did you know I was completely trashed?”

  No. I hadn’t known that. I’d known he had been drinking, but apparently I hadn’t known he had been drinking that much. I shook my head.

  “I’m never drinking again. That’s it. I swear. I’m done.” He put both hands on the hood of my car and hung his head. “I can never tell you how sorry I am. You should hate me for the rest of your life. That is no way for you to have lost your innocence. Damn, Manda. Someone needs to shoot me.”

  I couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he was like this. I closed my door and walked over to stand beside him. Tentatively, I touched his shoulder. “I wanted it to be you. I realize now that in order for it to be you, the way it happened was the only way it would ever happen. I think I’m okay with it now.”

  Preston lifted his head and looked at me. “Why me? Why would you pick me?”

  The raw emotion in his voice was the only reason I decided to be honest. “Because I trusted you. I wanted you. I’d wanted you for a very long time.”

  Preston shook his head and stood up. “You don’t want me, Manda. You do not want me. Do you understand? I am not for you.”

  That hurt. I forced myself to nod. I got it. He didn’t want anything to happen between us. I needed to move on.

  “I know,” I managed to say firmly.

  “I’m not gonna be able to forgive myself.”

  Hearing him say that hurt even more. He was much more upset about this than I would have thought. I’d known he didn’t want to cross any lines with me, but I’d just realized how sincere that desire was. He truly never intended to allow anything to happen with us. It was a painful realization.

  “There’s nothing to forgive. I got what I wanted. It’s over,” I told him, then turned and walked back to my car. I was moving on from this now. This was my closure.

  He didn’t say anything to stop me. He just stood there and watched me drive away.

  Chapter Seven

  Preston

  It was off-season for me. Other than workouts, I was free after classes. Last year I’d started partying early every day. This year things would be different.

  I pulled up in front of the youth football fields. According to the paperwork I’d filled out for Brent to play, his practices would be here every Tuesday and Thursday from five thirty to seven.

  I made my way over to the side of the fence where parents were sitting on lawn chairs and watching. When I finally got to play baseball, parents had always shown up for our practices too. My mom, of course, never came. I knew she’d never come to Brent’s practices or his games. I didn’t want him to feel as unwanted as I had.
I could change that for him. I could be here. Cheering him on. He wouldn’t know that kind of rejection and loneliness.

  When I got to the gate, I watched the boys warming up and doing stretches and tried to figure out which little guy was Brent. Little boys in football pads and helmets all look the same.

  “You don’t look old enough to have a son out there. You must be someone’s big brother,” an older female voice said from behind me.

  I glanced back over my shoulder to see someone’s mom smiling up at me from her chair. She was close to forty, but she was dressed like she was in her early twenties. I could tell from her inexpensive, snug-fitting clothing that she couldn’t afford me. Besides, I wasn’t working right now. I was here for Brent.

  “Yes, ma’am. My brother is playing this year,” I replied. Women her age hated it when I called them “ma’am.” It made me smile. She’d back off now.

  I turned back to the field just as the coach called out, “Go get water.”

  The boys pulled off their helmets and came running over to the fence where the large containers of water were lined up.

  Brent’s eyes locked with mine, and he paused before a big smile broke out on his face. He passed the line for water and came straight for me.

  “Preston! You’re here.” The excitement in his voice made my heart ache a little.

  “Of course I’m here. You’re practicing. I didn’t want to miss this.”

  Brent’s chest puffed up. “I get to play running back. Coach said I got speed.”

  “Hell yeah, you got speed. You’re related to me.”

  The toothy grin on his face just got bigger. “I gotta get water and get back out there. You gonna be here until I’m done?”

  If I’d had any other plans I’d have canceled them. The hopeful look on his face was impossible to ignore.

  “Yep. You and me are gonna go get a big fat cheeseburger when this is over, and then I’ll take you back home.”

  Brent whooped, then waved before running over to the water line. He kept glancing over at me to make sure I hadn’t moved. I wasn’t going anywhere.

  “You’re related to Brent Carey?” The surprised tone in the woman’s voice behind me didn’t go unnoticed.

  My protective instincts kicked in, and I turned around to look at her. “Yes, I am. He’s my little brother,” I replied, daring her to say anything about him. I didn’t care if she was a woman. I wasn’t going to let her catty, gossiping mouth say or do anything to hurt Brent.

  “Oh, well. It’s just that no one ever comes around for him. Not at school or anything. I didn’t realize he had an older brother.”

  She didn’t deserve an explanation. But dammit, I didn’t want her talking about my family. I knew what it was like to have the mothers of the other kids talk about you and your family. It hurt. Kids shouldn’t have to deal with that.

  “He does” was my only reply. I turned my attention back to the field. Brent was watching me as he got into position. I was going to ignore the snide comments from idiots who had nothing better to do than talk about other people.

  For the next hour and a half I watched Brent practice. He was good. Better than good, and his coach was right. The kid was fast. He needed some gloves if he was going to be handling the ball that much. We’d go get those tonight.

  * * *

  After we purchased the receiving gloves and Brent was one happy kid, we made our way to the Pickle Shack. This was the one place in town to get a good burger. That, and I knew Brent liked the arcade games inside.

  I followed Brent inside and told the hostess we needed a table for two.

  “A booth okay?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.

  The girl was maybe sixteen. Damn, they learned young. I nodded, and she spun around and strutted toward a booth in the corner. I fell in step behind Brent, but my feet stopped when my eyes locked with Amanda’s. She was sitting at a large curved booth with three other girls and two guys. I hadn’t seen her since she’d left me in the parking lot of my apartment building three days ago. I’d thought about her endlessly but I had kept my distance. Seeing her here was a jolt. The time away from her had almost helped me deal with what I’d done, but looking into her pretty green eyes now, I knew I’d never get over it. She was so damn sweet, and I was the world’s largest ass.

  “You coming, Preston?” Brent asked, shaking me out of my trance. I tore my gaze off Amanda and made my way to our booth. I wanted tonight to be about Brent. I didn’t need images of Amanda’s hurt expression haunting me. I also didn’t need to see her sitting so close to some dipshit who wasn’t good enough for her. I didn’t know him, but I knew he wasn’t good enough. No one was.

  “Who’re they?” Brent asked, looking at me curiously, then back at the booth where Amanda was now studying her drink and twisting her straw nervously.

  “Uh, no one,” I replied, opening my menu.

  “That pretty blond girl keeps looking at you,” Brent said, a little too loudly.

  I couldn’t help myself. I glanced over at her again. Brent was right. She was looking at me. A small smile tugged at the corner of her very full lips. I hadn’t kissed those lips. She didn’t understand why, but I did. Even drunk, I’d known some things were too good for me. Those perfect lips were off-limits to someone like me. I didn’t deserve to get a taste. I wished to God I’d been that smart about the rest of her body. Instead, I’d taken her completely. I had dreams to prove it.

  “She’s a friend’s sister,” I explained, and shifted my attention back to my menu.

  “Which friend?” Brent asked curiously. I wanted to tell him to drop it, but I didn’t want to upset him. He was sensitive about things like that. Our mother being an uninvolved parent made him careful who he trusted. Normally, he was quiet. With me he talked. I liked that.

  “Marcus Hardy. You haven’t met him.”

  Brent nodded. “I’ve heard you talk about Marcus before. Momma says he has lots of money. Does that mean she has lots of money too? ’Cause she’s really pretty, and I think she likes you.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Kids were way too observant. “Yeah. She has money, but you’re wrong about liking me. She actually doesn’t care for me that much.”

  Brent let out a sigh. “It stinks being poor. The pretty girls never like you.”

  Dammit. I hated hearing him say something like that.

  “When you get older, it won’t be about money. Right now girls listen to what their mommas tell them. That won’t always be the case.”

  Brent frowned, then looked back over to the table where Amanda was sitting. “She’s gonna leave with that guy. He’s whispering in her ear, but she’s still watching you.”

  It was real hard to ignore her when Brent was giving me a detailed description of what she was doing now. I looked over at her, and she was standing up with the group she’d been sitting with. The guy’s head was bent and he was saying something awfully close to her ear, but Brent was right. Her attention was focused on me. And I liked it. No use in denying it. I loved the hell out of it. I wanted her attention. I wanted her to want me, because I sure as hell wanted her.

  She shook her head to whatever the guy said, and then told him bye. I was relieved. The idea of her going anywhere with some guy alone made me ill. I knew what he was wanting. I didn’t blame him, but I sure as hell didn’t like it.

  Amanda started toward us. Shit.

  “She’s coming over here,” Brent announced in awe.

  I was a little surprised too. I hadn’t expected her to actually acknowledge me. She wasn’t wearing shorts tonight. All those legs were covered up by a pair of very snug jeans. Didn’t help. It only fueled my imagination.

  “Hello, Preston,” she said, smiling at me. The nervous look in her eyes was the only thing that gave away the fact that this hadn’t been an easy decision. She looked over at Brent. “Hello. I’m Amanda.”

  Brent beamed up at her. “Hi. I’m Brent. Preston is my big brother.”

  A s
oftness touched Amanda’s smile. The tightness from her nerves was now gone. Well, damn. Having her see anything redeeming about me was not a good thing. I needed her to want to stay away from me, because God knew I wasn’t strong enough to tell her no.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Brent. I can see the resemblance.”

  “Really?” Brent asked, surprised.

  Amanda laughed, and it made my heart rate pick up. “Yes, really.”

  “You wanna sit with us?” Brent asked, scooting over to give her some room to sit down.

  Amanda shifted her eyes to me, and I could see the uncertainty there. “I . . . um . . .”

  “We’d both like you to join us if you want to,” I assured her.

  She smiled and slid into the booth beside Brent.

  “Have you already eaten?” Brent asked, shoving the menu into her hands. He was anxious to get her to stay. It was pretty damn funny. The kid had good taste.

  “I might eat a dessert. I’ve already had a burger and fries,” she replied, smiling over at him.

  “Okay. Cool,” Brent said, taking the menu back to look at it.

  I couldn’t stop looking at her. She was so close. I’d had three days to let it sink in that the hot, intense dream I kept having about Amanda was very real. I’d touched her. I’d been inside her. All I could think about now was how I wanted to do it again sober. I wanted to kiss her and make sure she knew just how much I wanted her. I wanted to hear those sexy sounds that had been haunting my dreams clearly so I could remember them when I was alone.

  “How are you?” she asked, breaking into my thoughts about how much I wanted her naked and under me again.

  “Good. I guess. I’ve been thinking about things.”

  I stopped and shifted my eyes to Brent, who was reading the menu, before looking back at her.

  “Me too. I’m sorry about how things came out.”

  Why was she sorry? I was the only one who should be sorry. “Manda, you have nothing to be sorry about. That was all on me.”

  A small grin tugged at the corner of her lips. Could they be any sexier? “Maybe. But I wasn’t thinking clearly either.”