AMAZING HEART (Broken Bottles Series Book 4)

by Pamela Taeuffer

"Wait—your agent is a woman?" I veered off the subject for a moment. The only agents I'd read about that signed single, highly profiled male athletes were other males. The offer to sign came with women escorts, admittance as V.I.P.'s to well-known clubs and private parties, and dozens of shady benefits. Having a woman agent was no guarantee of anything different; maybe they'd even had sex and it was how they'd met. Still, I was impressed with the possibility he'd broken from the mold.

  "Yes." From the look in his eyes I knew he understood the reason for my sudden shift. "Is it so hard to believe I'd have an agent who is female?"

  "It's just . . . I've heard." I paused momentarily. "Okay, since you insist, I'll look at your contacts." I verified the names he'd just revealed. I felt amazing. I didn't want him to see that I was caving in so easily.

  "I tried to call you quite a few times after you told me to fuck off." He put his phone on the coffee table. "Even though I stood waiting for you in the parking lot, you chose to talk with Jerry first. He put his arms around you. Actually—you let him put his arms around you. How do you think that made me feel? It made me crazy, but I remained open and ready for you in case you wanted to see me. And then, you pushed your way through as we were leaving." His chest lifted as he sighed. "When you told me you loved me? It was like little hearts were beating through my body. I couldn't wait to talk with you again."

  “You saw me with Jerry?” I could hardly believe it. That meant he'd watched everything. The hug, the ring . . . I wanted to dig myself a hole and crawl into it.

  “Nicky, I've told you. I look for you all the time. I saw you immediately. When you turned and walked away with him, I was afraid you didn’t know what you wanted. Then you fought to get in the parking lot . . . the hope you gave me . . . I knew we were no longer together because of what I could do for you dad or sister. It was just you and I. Our love. Like last time, I called and sent you dozens of texts. You promised to call me back. You never did. I called you for three days." He stared intently into my eyes. "I understand now you were at Tara's and had forgotten your charger. But you went home and discovered Jesse's message and cut me off without giving me a chance to explain. You say you love me, but instead of having a conversation, you abandoned me. Can't you understand how much it hurts to be told I’m dead to you?"

  I closed my eyes. The pain that filled his voice also filled me.

  "Can you?" He lifted my chin.

  "Yes."

  "Don't you see how you cut into me?" His thumbs caressed my cheeks.

  “I’m sorry.”

  "I know you're a strong woman who's afraid of opening her heart. You need your protection and walls. But you scare the hell out of me and I need to be reassured just like you do. Didn't we already talk about our fears? I took the chance and shared my vulnerable side with you, didn't I?”

  I listened to him.

  Took a deep breath.

  Let out a long sigh.

  Breathed deeply, perhaps for the first time since Jesse's text.

  Chapter 27

  Pushing Jerry Out

  of Ryan's Head

  "Okay," I acquiesced. "I agree that I made some quick judgments and drew some conclusions I shouldn't have. Try to understand Jesse's text from my point of view. How would you have interpreted it? The person I thought you were . . . to get something like that . . ." I shook my head. "After we shared such an intimate night . . . God, it was devastating. The words were—"

  "Lies," Ryan didn't hesitate. "Disgusting words that made my love for you seem dirty. I can't imagine the images that went through your mind. When you called I didn't know what had happened. You have to give me the chance to listen to you and absorb what you're saying."

  "From my point of view—" I put my hand on his shoulder.

  "I know it looked bad. What Jesse did was and is bad. Your interaction with Jerry looked bad, too. Yet, I didn't cut you off. I could have turned my back on you and never stepped off the bus if I used your solution to prevent myself from being hurt."

  "I didn't know what to do," I admitted. "My gut reaction stemmed from all the years Jerry and I have known each other. I didn't think it was fair to blurt out my love for you at the stadium we've gone to since we were little kids. He came home from a week of baseball, ready to be with me. He didn't know how close we'd gotten. Just imagine if that was you—can you?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "I'm told if you love someone you're supposed to shout it out to the world. I did that. I said the words in front Goliath Management, your teammates, their wives and girlfriends and your fans. Do you know how big a move it was for me to say it at all? It's like an earthquake shakes me admitting that kind of deep emotion. I had to talk to Jerry first while I was rational and calm because if it were reverse, and I went to your first, the overflowing excitement and joy for you would negate the way I wanted to tell him. Can you try to understand?"

  "I do. You kissed him and let him hug you. Why would you do that?"

  "He kissed me," I protested. "I squirmed out of his embrace as soon as I could. He's too strong for me to push away. I didn't enjoy it. All I wanted was to get to you."

  "I'm trying to understand, but—"

  "Just like I'm trying to understand you. If you can't hold back your desire for sex until I figure things out . . . I can't be open to you while you have sex with someone else." My body felt as if it would fall to pieces. "I won't be able to travel with you like the women you're used to. When I go to college . . . if you can't stay firm in your resolve, I get it. But then let's not pretend and end this love affair while we're still friends." My eyes flooded with tears. "Don't you think?" I brought my hands to my face. "That's it. It's all I have. I'm tired and just . . . empty." I cried softly.

  I felt his body become ready.

  He reached for me.

  His touch was knowing.

  Our fingers interlocked.

  It was as if we had merged and pressed our spirits together.

  "I didn't have sex with Jesse. I wasn't with her. When I make promises to you, I'm telling the truth. You need to trust me. After all the things I've shared—my father’s story and my relationship with my brother—I'm not a liar. Please have faith in me."

  "I did. I was. I was filled with it. Then you dismissed me." Tears ran down my face. "You didn't give me the chance to decide about coming on your road trip. I was ready. I had settled it with Mom. Your decision to cut me out . . . I thought it meant you didn't want me. Then, I got Jesse's text after you told me to stay home . . . no one’s ever talked to me like that. How does one human being talk like that to another? I realize it was a text . . . is that, I mean, do you think she'd be softer on the phone or is she so full of revenge she doesn't care? You were, are, her friend . . . maybe she doesn't like it that you have another woman friend."

  "I can't answer that," he tried to offer a rational response. "She never did anything like this to anyone else."

  "I felt cast aside. Just like garbage." I paused. "I'm telling you honestly, I'm not strong enough for that kind of bombardment." I looked out the window and then back to Ryan. "I don't want those visions in my head of you with her or any other woman. How am I supposed to maneuver through it? It's hard enough not to dwell on your past without your present pressing up on me, too."

  I couldn't hold back the hurt any longer. Just as healing seemed ready to begin, I felt torn apart again. My overflowing emotions spilled. I wanted him to be strong enough to wait for sex with me. I knew that wasn't realistic.

  Ryan unlocked our hands.

  His loving arms surrounded me, cradled me, and carefully brought me to his beautiful chest.

  "My text didn't mean I wanted you to stay home—God, Nicky, no. I wanted you with me. It was all I could do to hold back what I really wanted to say."

  "What do you mean?" I probed. "What did you want to say?"

  "Screw your mom and dad's speeches and their desperate attempts to make you doubt yourself and the way they hold you back. I wanted you to follow your
own heart. Stand up and dig in. Own this relationship. Make them understand how much we love each other. Tell them I'm your man and you are my woman." He trembled as if his body was on the edge. "I wanted to beg you. I came close to begging you. I fought with all the strength I had not to take a cab back to your house and carry you away in my arms. Then you cut me off."

  "You . . . I, um . . . damn it." How can I answer him after all that? "You can't . . . next time, you can't decide for me, Ryan. I need to make my own choices. Please don't interpret what's best for me. That's not the protection I want. I need you to see me as a capable and mature woman who will take the consequences of her actions.

  "As a child, decisions were forced on me all the time—to ride in my father's truck while coming home from the bar, ride with Mom to get him from the bar, and go to the police department to get Dad out of jail. All it did was force more hurt and numbness on me, imprinting their silent demands that I hide and stay quiet while our family's secrets darkened in every shade of black."

  I don't want us to be a part of that saga.

  "I felt thrown away, just like, like . . ." Could I reveal the deeper and even more complex secrets of my family?

  "Like what, Nicky? Trust me this time. Tell me about your feelings."

  "Like I've always felt with my mother and father," I confessed. "They left me on my own. As many twisted decisions that were made for my sister and me—like making me take care of my dad—when it came to advancing in our lives, it was always up to us to figure it out. I'm strong and independent. I'll make it, but there are times I need help. For years I wished for someone to notice. I prayed for help for Jenise and me. I don't want to be controlled or forced to agree with a decision. I want support."

  My emotions escalated like a Phoenix from our ashes.

  "I've taken care of my father too many times. I've been company for Mom, even late at night when I should have been in bed, while Dad's out on a drunk. I've stayed out of trouble and kept my nose clean, while my friends experimented with drugs and alcohol. I'm tired of being on every day." I breathed slowly, trying to sound rational. "I need to be in control of my own decisions. The other part of it is that I need to be taken care of for a while."

  "I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm reaching for you right now." His hands caressed my head, my arms, my fears, my insecurities—he was all over me in every way.

  "Underneath all this drive and fight for survival, I'm fragile, just like everybody else. When it comes down to it, I'm just a little girl doing the best she can.""I want to be the one who shelters you." I saw the tenderness in his eyes. His body and voice crested. I felt them saturate me.

  "I know I've been whining, but—"

  "No, you're letting out feelings that have been kept silent for too long." He squeezed my hand as if he understood. "Keep going. Tell me more."

  "I want someone to say, I'll get that for you, can I help you, may I give you a hand, and then not hesitate as I answer yes. I'm tired of fighting for survival," I sniffed. "Do you feel that way?"

  "Yes. God, yes. I know what it is to be in survival mode," Ryan confided. "I wanted a mom who'd be there for me and give me the emotional support I needed when I was a teenager. The examples I saw everywhere depicted the perfect single parent who held family life together. I didn't understand why Mom couldn't get her life on track. I needed her to respond to me—somehow—even as I was acting out in anger. None of us knew what to do after Dad died," he grimaced. "We didn't have anyone who cared enough to dig into our problems. I yearned to explain my feelings to someone every moment that I was awake but I didn't know where to begin. I was afraid that if I showed my emotions I'd be made fun of by my friends. What it all came down to? I needed to be held."

  "That's it exactly!" I nodded my head. "I can't believe you nailed it like that."

  "What I learned was that we need to save ourselves." He said the words as if they marked the end of a long battle. “We have helpers and people who come in and out of our lives; like my mentor, Walter Dixon. Still, I was the one who had to do the work.”

  "Yeah," I agreed. "Once in a while I just want to lean on someone else. I'm battling for what I need. Still, my composure is a facade in so many ways."

  "I totally get it. You ask me, actually—you tell me—I need someone my age. Don’t you understand? Observations like yours . . . you're the woman I have everything in common with. It's you. The things you say . . ." he trailed off.

  "What? Finish!" It was as if the madness was finally unwinding.

  "At least there was some good that came from your struggle," he concluded.

  Chapter 28

  Tucking Each Other In

  "How can you say that it's good I've struggled?" I crossed my arms as if giving myself a hug. "I sure don't see it that way."

  "I didn't say that. What I meant was the struggle you've gone through might be the reason for your strength, insights and tender heart. The gifts you share . . . you let the people you know experience an incredible combination of hope and love. I told you at the Embarcadero Hotel I was fighting for you," he reminded me. "I'll take care of you, like I am tonight."

  "I want that." My voice was scratchy.

  "I need you to take care of me, too, Nicky. I have a fragile heart like you. It's been empty a long time."

  "I will. We'll do it together."

  "All I wanted to accomplish with my text was to take the pressure off of you. You said your mother thought we were moving too fast. I figured we could go on a road trip another time. I didn't want you to push it with her."

  "That's not the way you said it," I countered. "You said, 'It's too far for you.' I have it saved in my phone if you want to look. Let me show—" I started to get up.

  "You don't need to do that." Ryan held my wrist. "I understand I didn't write it like you needed. If what I did bothered you, you needed to tell me. I thought going another time would make your family feel better about me. You never gave me the chance to explain."

  "I started to. That first night you were away, I started to." I was disgusted with myself. "I changed my mind."

  "Why?"

  "I didn't want to rock the boat," I confessed.

  "Rock the boat?"

  "Push you too far and you'd get mad. Well, beyond mad. What I was really afraid of . . . well, you'd seek the company of another woman who wasn't as much trouble." I looked down. "And then I thought you had done exactly that."

  "Oh, Nicky." His fingers slipped under my chin. He lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. "Please don't go there. You can say anything to me. I won't leave in frustration and see another woman. Can we talk about Jesse's text?"

  "Yes," I wrinkled my nose.

  "Are you sure?" Ryan kissed my hand.

  "We have to, don't we?" I forced myself to be braver than I'd ever been.

  "I don't know how she got a text off to you. All I've done is try to figure out how, when and why. The only time I've come up with was when I discussed the practice schedule with Kevin. He'd noticed a meeting that didn't make any sense. I put my phone on one of the end tables in the lobby when I was trying to balance my information packet from management, my coffee, room key, and my wallet. We took ten minutes to review the papers."

  "She moves quick." I said with enough disgust for the both of us—me for not trusting enough, and Ryan for trusting too much.

  "I swear she wasn't in my hotel room and I wasn't in hers. Kevin is dating her. I haven't seen or been with her in months."

  "Kevin? How . . ."

  "They started seeing each other." Ryan's comment seemed careless. He didn't see anything wrong with the scenario he'd just revealed to me.

  I stared at him.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Really? Your best friend is seeing your ex, who . . ." I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but . . . your best friend is seeing the same woman you shared a big part of your life with, the same woman who texted me her crazy message? Isn't that, I don't know . . . weird, crazy, or . . . at the very least, stupid?"
>
  "She's not my ex." His voice was flat. "I've already explained that I never felt anything for her or considered her my girlfriend. I don't think about her that way."

  "Yeah, well you might not think of her that way, but for her to text me that message, she thinks of you as more than a friend. She's jealous and wants more," I sighed. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to get over my phobia. All the women you've been with and one of them, one you've known for years, does something like that . . ."

  "Nicky—"

  "I know, I know. Your past is the past. But you're not comfortable with me being around Jerry and he's only one boy. So I know you understand how I feel when I have to listen to you say you stood next to her, right?"

  "Yes," he agreed. “I’m sorry. I . . . never mind.”

  "Say it."

  "I want these trust issues to be over."

  "I do, too. We have a ways to go, however, if you're going to be around someone who thinks nothing of sending me a text like that. Just her body being near yours . . . I mean, gee, Ryan, she said you gave her a ring and that you were going to marry her."

  "I never gave her any piece of jewelry, let alone an engagement ring." Ryan was obviously agitated. "Marriage was the furthest thing from my mind with her or any woman . . . until you. Like I told you before, we had fun in college and then a business arrangement when she came to San Francisco; that's all."

  "Came to San Francisco? You mean followed you. I don’t think that's the way she looks at it. Nope. I'd bet a million bucks she doesn't see it that way at all."

  "Yes, she does," he insisted. "We discussed this. You know, how we used each other to meet the movers and shakers."

  "And yet, look what that friend, someone with whom you had a business arrangement, did to me, your friend." I tried to keep from crying. "Something's undone with her. You need to close it."

  "I did close it." His body tightened and he leaned forward as if emphasizing his point. "I closed it in every way, even though there was nothing to close. We weren't—"

  "Dating. I know. You've said that. Still, I'm afraid she won't stop." I clenched my robe to my chest. "Maybe if I had the sexual experiences you've had I'd understand. I swear something's off. I don't know what it is, but what happened . . . something isn't quite right. That's not a reasonable thing to do."