by Paige,Alyvia
“Also, we will go over the sugar intake after the ultrasound.” Hannah nods in understanding before rolling her eyes and laughing.
“Unless you tell me I’ll hurt Peanut, I’m eating it. All of it.” She cackles in a very creepy and haunting laugh.
Hannah’s eyes glaze over as she listens to the heartbeat sounding through the room. The loud swooshing is quite amazing; it’s one of my favorite things about pregnant women. I remind Hannah to limit the sweets intake because while it’s oh so yummy, we don’t want gestational diabetes to be a factor when we test in a few months and chuckle when Carter coughs “told ya” into his arm.
“Okay, y’all are done. We’ll see you in a month-ish. Hannah, call me or Dr. Watret with any questions or concerns.”
“Will do.” She smiles before standing up. “Adalyn, can I ask you something?”
“You just did, but you can ask me something else.” I smile.
“Shush you,” she says. “Would you come to our wedding? It’s in a few weeks. You can bring a guest. It’s just, you’ve been there for me since the beginning, and I’d really like for you to come.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I respond hesitantly but politely.
“Okay, think about it.”
“Okay. Bye, y’all. Hannah, don’t overwhelm yourself.”
The rest of the day goes smoothly, but moves at a snail’s pace. I prayed for an emergency cesarean section or even unplanned delivery, however, my life is anything but how I anticipate or expect it to be these days. Six hours of giggling nurses over candy baskets, did one thing… it made me determined to ignore Braydon. Well, for the most part.
Me – Your goal has been accomplished. I’ve heard the women and men in my office setting sing your stupid praises all damn day.
Braydon – Awesome. What are your plans tonight?
Me – Busy.
Braydon – Blasphemy.
After a quick trip to the grocery store, I make my way home. Perks to living in a big city, there is almost always a store near your home or apartment. My apartment is within minutes of a huge park with walking and biking trails to the north, and just south is a Publix, and shopping center. Bliss. Convenience is bliss. Two heavily loaded trips in from my car, twenty minutes of shelve and refrigerator stocking, and one glass of wine later, I am making my way into the master bathroom to enjoy a lovely, piping hot soak in the garden tub. This too is bliss.
Braydon
A LOT SHOULD BE said about window treatments–closed blinds, curtains, anything of that nature. Then again, I wouldn’t have the visual I have right now. Long brown hair piled on top of a petite frame, neon yellow sports bra, and the tiniest of boy shorts barely covering the most delectable round ass. I’d be worried I may stop breathing, but my pulse has jacked up at least five notches as the little vixen traipses from the kitchen with a glass of what appears to be white wine down the hallway of her duplex.
Oh yes, I most certainly used my connections and got her address. Busy… busy my ass. Now just to collect myself before approaching the door… I mean, she could essentially tell me to fuck off. Ergo… a large balsamic vinaigrette spinach and grilled chicken salad with a side of a large meat-lovers pizza, light on the sauce… cold. I could be the smartest dude on the planet, showing up unwanted, but armed with the beauty’s favorite salad and pizza.
Steeling myself, I make my way to her door with the two salads and a bottle of wine hanging from my wrist in a black to-go bag and the pizza box resting in my left palm. I hesitate a few seconds before pressing the small button, expelling a deep breath I’d been holding as the chime sounds through her place. A few more seconds passes before I hear her sweet singsong voice.
“Coming.” Within a second, I’m left winded. Seeing Adalyn from the car was one thing, seeing her up close, she is breathtaking–Every. Single. Time. She eyes me suspiciously, her gaze bouncing from my eyes, to my lips, to my left hand where the food resides. “Hi,” she offers as a greeting.
“Hi.” I smirk back before lazily perusing her body.
“What do you need, Bray?” She juts out her hip and crosses her arms once my eyes land on hers again.
“You.” Her lips part on her intake of breath, her tongue slipping out and wetting her lips before sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth. Her eyes close, and I continue, “I’d like to have dinner with you.”
“Uh–um,” she stutters looking back at me.
“Just let me in. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” I laugh as those chocolate eyes navigate from my gaze to the food. I’ve got this, she won’t pass up her favorites, and it’s her weakness. “Ads, it’s balsamic vinaigrette spinach and grilled chicken salad and a large meat-lovers pizza. It’s your favorite.”
“Bray.” Her voice wraps around my name like a warm blanket. “Okay. Come in.”
“Thank you.” I smirk leaning in and kissing her cheek. I can’t stop the chuckle when she gasps from surprise. “No hands.” Flashing a bright smile, I walk past her and into the kitchen just to the right of the entryway.
“Smart move using my weakness against me to get your way,” she calls to my back as I unload the salads and wine from the bag. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be out in a few.” And then she’s gone. A few minutes later I hear the shower in the background. All I can see when I close my eyes is the image of her delectable body, naked. Legs, curves, perfectly sized tits. Shit, she’s torturing me… her version of payback.
Shaking my head of the thoughts that will definitely cause me to act before I should, I turn on the television to ESPN. Distractions are a necessary impediment, at least one of my heads understands. I’ve finally collected myself and stowed my inappropriate thoughts of Adalyn by the time she walks into the living room–spandex capri leggings and an extra-large shirt… my shirt. She kept my shirt. Of course she kept my shirt.
“Nice shirt,” I mutter while staring at my name across her back as I follow her into the kitchen.
“Thanks. It belongs to this guy I used to know.” She shrugs as she pulls the food from the fridge. “It’s getting tattered though. Overuse.”
“Hmm, so you didn’t keep in touch with this Gibson guy?” I ask playing along. A smile tugs at her lips as she passes me the corkscrew and chilled bottle.
“No, unfortunately not. He was… well he had some stuff to work through, and I did too. We just drifted apart.” Her voice is steady but sad, her eyes forlorn.
“That sucks; I bet he kicks himself in the ass every damn day. Do you think you’d ever, I don’t know, like to reacquaint yourself if you had the chance? A chance to mend the blur of his absence?” I take a deep breath waiting for her response. This could either eliminate the stalemate we are in or squelch the advancement altogether.
“I miss him, a lot. But there are a lot of what-ifs, you know?” She shrugs again, sucking in her bottom lip between her teeth, and chances a glance at me from beneath her long lashes. I don’t skip a beat; I’m in front of her, my finger under her chin, tilting her head back so I can look into the depths of her eyes.
“What if I could promise you wouldn’t regret it, getting to know him again?” My voice a soft gruff whisper. She holds all the cards; I’m letting her choose. I’m setting myself up for a potential heartbreak all over again. I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Is that what we’re doing,” she asks breathless, “getting to know each other again?”
“Yes, because I miss you. I’ve missed you since our last moment of contact, our last conversation, our last everything.”
“So, thanks for dinner,” she says interrupting the seriousness trying to ooze out of me. “Mmm, Oh. My. God. I missed this,” she moans; her mouth full of the leafy greens and chicken.
“Glad I can still turn you on.” I laugh and give her a wink before she turns away from me smirking. She sashays into the living room with her salad and two wine glasses. I grab the pizza with my salad sitting on top of the box and the bottle of wine and follow behind her, enjoying the view
.
Adalyn
WHAT’S WEIRD IS THAT it isn’t at all weird having him in my home. Sitting a seat away from me in my living room. On my couch. Eating dinner. Chit chatting about our day at work.
“So what do you have planned for this weekend?” Braydon asks casually. The food is gone, the dishes are in the dishwasher, and ESPN is running updates and stats along the ticker.
“Um, I don’t know?” I respond pulling my eyes from the TV.
“Does that mean your schedule is free?” he inquires further. “Or does that mean you are stalling to find an escape route?”
“I’m not sure,” I laugh and grab my cell phone from the end table beside me and click on my calendar application. If I want us back, I have to bend. I just don’t want to break again. There’s just not enough left of me emotionally. “I’m working on the Labor and Delivery floor Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday for overnights. So I’ll be free Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.”
“Okay,” he says drumming his fingers on the back of the sofa. “Let’s do dinner again, Friday?”
“Okay. I can cook…”
“Baked feta-stuffed chicken breasts?” he rushes his request out.
“Yes, I can handle that. But be here before Brenton’s game, because I will not cook while he’s playing.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He laughs and the drumming starts again.
“What’s got ya nervous, Gibson?”
“I have an odd request.” Braydon’s whole body turns to me on the sofa. His eyes bore into me as if he’s seeing more than I care to share. I feel naked, vulnerable by just the look he’s giving me, yet I can’t tear my eyes away. “Will you be my date to a wedding the second weekend in March?”
“I… uh… um.” I try to say no, but I want to say yes. Conflict is not something I deal well with, especially in the past few years.
“You can get back to me later, just think about it,” Braydon says interrupting my stumble of words. “We can go just as friends,” he continues, but grimaces when the word friend slips from his mouth.
“Okay, we’ll see,” I agree and nod my head.
THE WEEKEND FLEW BY as did my first two overnights, and I’m finally on the last leg of my hospital shift. Thirty-six hours in three days, and I have exactly eight hours to go. It’s a known jinx to mention that we have been not swamped, so let’s just say I’m perfectly content just charting. I pull out my cell phone and see Braydon’s name three times with a message box indicating he’s sent text messages to me.
Braydon – Hey, you’re probably busy, just wanted to see how you were feeling.
Braydon – Do they give you breaks? I could bring you coffee?
Braydon – I just found this picture of us, we were headed somewhere with Brenton and Braxton…
I can’t contain my smile when I click on the picture, it’s clearly us; Bray’s hand entwined with mine resting on my lap. The memory is one of my favorites. We were all traveling together to my sister’s wedding in Gainesville. The guys were trying to do their best at trying to convince me to go to a Gator’s football game decked out in our Bama gear. I was hell-bent against it; I was until Braydon slipped his hand onto my thigh before interlacing his fingers with mine. I gave in way too quickly. The guys hooted and laughed in the back seat, and Braydon’s smile was definitely one that would be in place after winning some massive championship or something.
“What’s got you all smiles?” I jump in my desk chair as my co-worker’s girlfriend, Jamey, leans against the counter of the nurses’ station rocking a smile herself.
“Oh it’s nothing,” I respond feeling my cheeks heat. I push the home button on my iPhone to clear the screen. “Reminiscing.”
“Mhmm, would you be reminiscing about that studly piece of man meat your husband is?”
“Uh, where’s Em? Did you come for a visit?”
“Damn, you’re good at trying to deflect, but you’ve failed. Spill.”
“Don’t you work with him? Shouldn’t you be at home ready for bed so you can function at work tomorrow?” I react quickly and take a deep breath after. The heat in my face starts to creep through all of my body.
“Last I checked, Em doesn’t have me on a bedtime schedule, so no.” Her words end on a laugh. Em makes her way down the hall toward us, and Jamey starts pecking on her cell. Nice try to act like you weren’t just firing questions at me.
“Hey, J, I thought you said you were headed home to bed?” Em smiles and sways her hip to bump into her girlfriend’s causing Jamey to stumble a step.
“Yeah, just thought I’d say hi to Ads. You know, since we have so much more in common now.”
“No, no we really don’t.” I laugh then direct my eyes to my vibrating cell phone. Braydon calling flashes on my screen. Damn her. I pick up the call since, well, I’m not doing anything else important right now.
“Hi–Yes, I’m on break… No, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need any coffee, my shift will be over soon enough.” All the truth except I’m drained and can barely keep from yawning every ten minutes. Just as I think that, I yawn and Jamey and Em burst out laughing. Em shouts that I do indeed need coffee, two of them. “Ugh, hell. Sorry. I’m on the third floor in the maternity ward nurses’ station. Thanks, Bray. Bye.” I sigh and end my call before glaring at the women in front of me.
“Thanks, assholes! Em, he’s bringing two coffees for me, and I’m not sharing.”
“But?” she balks and proceeds to jut out her bottom lip.
“Pouting doesn’t work on me, ask your girlfriend to go get you coffee.” I laugh as another yawn rips through me. Jamey winks at me then kisses Em on the cheek before informing us both that Braydon will in fact bring Em coffee, because he loves her.
Remember when I said we were in a lull, well, smack me smart because that was the dumbest damn thought ever. Three women have been brought into the unit moments after Jamey left. It takes the team approximately thirty minutes to get them set up and comfortable before our routine follow-ups begin. Making my way back to the nurses’ station, I stop suddenly. Braydon’s leaning against the counter in sweatpants and a hoody, a coffee tray containing three grande to-go containers of Starbucks coffee. He glances in my direction; a small sly smile tugs at the left side of his mouth.
“Hey, Ads.” His deep voice swaths my nickname sending a shiver down my spine.
“Hi, thanks for the coffee, we got hit after you’d called and J left.”
“That sucks, but maybe it will make your next few hours go by quickly.” He shrugs and hands me a cup of still piping hot coffee. “It’s just like you like it, flat white, coconut milk, no sugar.”
“I love you,” I laugh then stop abruptly. Oh Lord have mercy, wrong thing to say, wrong time to say it. Shit.
“Stop flipping out, Adalyn. I’m not reading into it. Just enjoy your coffee. This one is Em’s.” He laughs pointing to the cup. “Don’t drink it, it’s basically sugar with a splash of coffee. Well, I think it has coffee in it.”
“She’s disgusting and a pain in my ass.” I take a long sip of coffee, looking up at him through my lashes.
“So, I guess… I’ll let you get to it. Call or text me later if you want.”
“Bray, thank you. I really do appreciate this.” I smile nervously taking another look at him from the ground up. “I’ll talk to you after I wake up tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Bye, Ads.”
Braydon
MONDAY, WEDNESDAY, AND FRIDAY are strength training days in the afternoon for our athletes, so what better way to train and observe than to participate. Jamey has other ideas, like playing on her iPhone and singing off tune to the jams flowing through the gym speakers.
“James, shut your pretty face up,” I shout toward the direction she was last sitting. “Ouch, shit.” I yelp from the onslaught of pain caused by a wet towel slapping my flexed calf muscle. The area I’m in with about ten other dudes breaks into hoots and laughter egging Jamey on. “What did I do to you?”
“Don’t hate ‘cause ya ain’t,” she laughs and struts away swinging her hips side to side. I can’t help but laugh with her, because while she is being a smartass swaying her hips all “look at me,” the guys are staring with their tongues hanging out of their mouths.
“She’s not y’alls type, and you’re not hers,” I say with a clap of my hands. “Get back to work, thirty more minutes before your asses are free.”
I finish lifting with my group and dismiss them to the lockers and head into my office. I unlock the middle drawer of the desk which disengages the lock on the side drawer where my phone and wallet resides. Trust no one on a college campus. Last time I left this desk unlocked, Jake pocketed thirty bucks and sent texts to some random number from my phone. Yes, I learned to lock the screen too. I press the power button on the side, illuminating the screen. No missed calls. No missed texts. I bet Adalyn is still asleep, she just finished three twelve hour shifts on the maternity ward.
Me – Are you asleep?
Almost instantly my phone beeps signaling a response.
Adalyn – No.
Me – What’s up?
Adalyn – Just restless.
Me – Can I do anything?
Adalyn – No, no thank you.
Me – Okay.
Adalyn – Night, Bray.
Me – Night, babe.
That’s odd, I was expected an argument or reasoning not just simplistic answers. Maybe she is just exhausted. I’m sure that kind of regime could wear on you, but then again she’s been working like this for years.
“Hey,” Jake greets me from the doorway, “you coming by for the game tonight?”
Scratching my head, I toy with the idea of going to the game or to Adalyn’s. Surely she wouldn’t throw me out, she didn’t last week when I just showed up, or maybe she would. Maybe it was out of shock she let me in, but she had me back, so what’s that mean? Why am I so confused and conflicted with the thought process of my once best friend that I knew better than anyone? Fuck it, I’m going over. I’ll go to Jake’s if she sends me away. He’s ditched me plenty of times. “Nah, I’m going to pass. I’m heading to Adalyn’s for dinner.”