Playing the Game

by JL Paul

  “I’m glad we’re playing tomorrow night,” I heard an unfamiliar voice say. I whipped around and found Jess leading a rather handsome guy, who was holding hands with a pretty girl, out onto the deck. The girl gasped.

  “Hey, I know you!” She released the man’s hand and came forward. I stiffened, still not used to being recognized. And I dreaded hearing that awful S word. “You’re Aubrey. Jess has told us a lot about you.”

  My eyes blinked as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings as I looked first at her then at Jess. He winked as he strolled over to my side. “This is Troy Neal and his fiancée, Kendra.”

  We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries before Troy and Jess jumped into the finer points of their earlier game. I knew they'd suffered a loss, even though I hadn't paid much attention to the game; Jess hadn’t pitched.

  “Do you enjoy being on American Star?” Kendra asked.

  I shrugged. “Yeah. It can be fun. Mostly it’s nerve wracking.”

  “I bet,” she smiled. She was quiet, like I could be, and I started to thaw in her presence.

  Others began to arrive and Kendra took over the introductions. A few recognized me from the show and a couple players remembered me from singing the Anthem. That puzzled me at first because I was sure tons of people sang the Anthem and after a while, I was sure the players began to ignore them. Kendra explained to me Jess’s plot to have everyone vote for me and I groaned.

  “That’s right.”

  Kendra giggled. “For someone in the music industry, you sure hate attention.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I relented. “But I love to sing so I guess I’ll have to concede.”

  She laughed, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. I liked her and it freaked me out. I never really had a friend before, besides Gwen.

  She told me about her work with animals bringing out my long suppressed desire to have a puppy.

  “You should come adopt one,” she suggested.

  “Yeah, my mom would have a fit.” She frowned, staring curiously at me. It was the typical reaction when people found out that I still lived with my mother. “Long story."

  “Don’t get Aubrey started on her mother,” Jess warned, bringing me another water bottle. I was a little surprised. I thought he'd forgotten that I was there. He took a seat next to me and fumbled under the table for my hand.

  “And it is a long story.” He sipped from a beer bottle. I wondered how many he’d had. He didn’t pitch until Sunday and could probably afford a hangover in the morning but I hated to think of him in pain.

  When the party finally began to wind down, I was a little sad to see Kendra leave. I was comfortable around her and had enjoyed her company. We exchanged phone numbers, promising to keep in touch. She stood on her toes to kiss Jess’s cheek before linking her hand with Troy’s and disappearing through the French doors.

  As he turned to me, I could see the hunger in Jesse's gray eyes. My heart shot up my throat and fell back to my toes. Stepping closer, he took my hand.

  “Are you staying with me or what?”

  “I should go home,” I murmured. “I mean to Gwen’s.”

  He tugged me closer to his body, kissing my temple. “Gwen won’t care if you stay here.”

  I closed my eyes as his lips trailed down the side of my face. He was exactly right: Gwen wouldn’t care. Hell, she’d be extremely happy. And when his lips grazed mine, I knew I would be, too.

  His lips burned my skin as they made their way over my chin. I lifted my head so he could reach me better and my resistance began to fade. My hands came alive and gripped his biceps. His mouth stopped below my ear.

  “So what do you say?” he asked, his breath warming my skin.

  I nodded and felt his smile press against my jaw. He kissed his way to my mouth as I sighed happily. His lips massaged mine tenderly, not asking much of me at first. Gradually, he ran his tongue over my bottom lip and I opened my mouth. My hands flew up his arms and locked behind his neck. He bent to scoop me in his arms and twirled me, walking slowly inside the house. His mouth remained on mine and I had no idea where he was carrying me. After opening a door, he eased me onto a huge bed. He finally removed his mouth as he rolled away to flip on a soft lamp. His eyes smoldered as my heart increased its rhythm. He resumed his assault on my mouth but I was hardly complaining.

  It was when he started tugging on my t-shirt that I froze. He sensed my unease and stopped, ripping his lips from mine.

  “What’s the matter?” Shaking my head, I turned away from the light, the heat in my cheeks not something I wanted him to see. Sitting up, he ran his hands through his hair. “Oh geez, Aubrey. Are you still a virgin?”

  “Hardly,” I snorted, but still couldn’t face him. I couldn’t believe I was being such a sissy.

  His long finger traced an invisible line along my jaw where his lips had been just minutes before. “Then why are you freaking out?”

  I whipped my head to him, eyes blazing. “I’m not freaking out.”

  “Okay, if you’re not freaking out, then what do you call this?” He waved his arms over my rigid body. I scooted up the headboard and took a deep breath, trying to cling to my anger. I didn’t want the tears to make an appearance.

  “It’s been awhile,” I finally admitted in a quiet voice. I ducked my head so I wouldn’t see his mocking eyes.

  “Oh hell,” he muttered. The bed sank and I chanced a peek out of the corner of my eye. He was sprawled out next to me, arms behind his head. “I’m probably far too drunk anyway.”

  Well, that answered one question: He did have too much to drink. I bit my lip and let out a breath.

  “I should go.” As I wasn’t looking forward to crawling over him, I was going to have to scoot to the end of the bed.

  Before I could get far, he grabbed my arm, causing me to crash into his chest. “Nah, stay.” He kicked off his shoes, still holding my arm, and turned on his side, taking me with him. “We’ll cuddle.”

  His mocking smirk broke my resolve as his eyes fluttered shut. “Come on, keep me company. I won’t do anything, I promise.”

  He was murmuring now and I figured he’d be out like a light shortly. So I kicked off my shoes. He grinned when he heard them thump to the floor. Reaching blindly for me, he hauled me close to his body. His breathing slowed and in a matter of minutes, the first snore rumbled in his chest. His breath was heavy in my hair and the beer scent permeated my nose. I closed my eyes as I burrowed into him. Unconsciously, his arm squeezed me before going limp again. I smiled through my tears as I drifted off to sleep beside him.

  ***

  The morning sun prodded me awake and for a second, I was disoriented. Jess’s heavy arm was still draped over my waist and his snores still bounced off the walls. I lifted my head, wincing at his nasty breath, finding his alarm clock. It was only eight in the morning. I let my head fall back to the pillow as I contemplated my situation. I could slip out from under his arm and out of the house without waking him. I could go to Gwen’s place, shower, and relay the entire evening’s events before going home. That sounded like a wonderful plan.

  Of course I had to look at his sleeping face looking so boyish and vulnerable. I ached to remain next to him in such an intimate way. I touched his cheek and he grunted a little, making me jerk back my hand. When his snores resumed, I touched him again. Tiny whiskers poked my fingers making me smile. It usually took Jess awhile to grow facial hair.

  I traced his jaw line with my index finger, fighting the urge to kiss him. It was probably very inappropriate of me to be touching him this way while he slept but I just couldn’t help myself.

  My heart was gone to him, I realized, releasing a sigh. I figured it must have been gone to him since school.

  “What’s the matter?” he slurred, eyes still closed. His arm tightened over me.

  “Nothing,” I said in a bright voice. “I was thinking about getting up and heading to Gwen’s.”

  “Nah,” he said, flipping to his back. He pulled me on top
of him, cracking one eye open. “Stick around. You can make me breakfast.”

  “Sure,” I said, sarcasm thick in my tone. He winced as I rolled off of him. He sat up slowly, rubbing his left shoulder. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “Slept on it wrong,” he muttered.

  Remembering his surgery, I grabbed his shoulder with my own hands, massaging and kneading his muscles. He closed his eyes, moaning, his face alternating between a grimace of pain and a groan of pleasure. “You’re an angel.”

  I smiled, grateful his eyes were closed and couldn’t see it. I continued to work on his tight muscles, hoping to bring him some relief. “Is it from your surgery?”

  Yanking his shoulder from my ministrations, he scrambled out of bed. “No. I said I slept on it wrong.”

  I wanted to chalk his mood change up to a hangover but the way he ran his hands through his hair made me a bit skeptical. I crawled off the bed and hunted down my shoes.

  “I’ll make you something to eat,” I said softly.

  “It’s okay,” he muttered as he yanked open the bedroom door. “Don’t worry about it. If you have to get to your sister’s house, I understand.”

  He stalked out of the room.

  I snatched my shoes and followed, head spinning. I paused when I reached the living room, cramming my shoes on my feet. I didn’t see him anywhere but guessed he must have disappeared into the kitchen. I stood, nibbling my lip, as I pondered my next move. If he was that dismissive of me then he certainly wouldn’t want me annoying him in the kitchen.

  But he’d been in pain and his hangover wasn’t going to help matters any, so maybe I should stay and at least fix him breakfast, I thought.

  A dish crashed to the floor followed by a stream of curses that made up my mind for me. I crept toward the front door, unlocked it, and ran to my car.

  Chapter Five

  Gwen’s lips formed an irritating smile as I moaned about my whole adventure to her over coffee. Dane, her boyfriend, leaned against the counter and tried to commiserate with me. I adored Dane almost as much as I did Gwen and felt no discomfort discussing my private life in front of him. All except for the sex – or lack of – part. I'd get to that particular incident soon enough.

  “Sounds like it wasn’t so bad, kid,” Dane said. He was tall, standing at about six foot two, with sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes. He was some kind of banker and did pretty well for himself. And he was extremely kind. It was easy to see why my sister loved him.

  Gwen, on the other hand, looked a lot like me. She was a few inches taller but our hair and eye color were exact.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked with suspicion raging in her eyes.

  Dane pushed away from the counter to ruffle my hair. “And that’s my cue to leave.” He kissed Gwen’s cheek, escaping to a spare bedroom he’d turned into his home office.

  I explained what had happened last night; how I froze and how Jess asked me to stay. I told her he’d been drinking. I faltered a little when I described his sudden mood swing this morning.

  “Aw, hon,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to run you off. It was probably a combination of the stiff shoulder and a raging hangover.”

  “But he said he didn’t want to date me,” I reminded her. “He said it wasn’t fair.”

  “I think that’s a little extreme but give him time. He’ll come around.” I wasn’t convinced and she could tell. “Honey, I know you’re not…experienced…but you do realize that lots of people are very casual about sex nowadays. Doesn’t make it right but it is what it is.”

  “I know. Even if I were more experienced, I don’t know that I would have slept with Jess last night. If I can’t have every part of him then I don’t know if I want things to go … there.” I replayed my words in my head and was surprised at how mature I sounded.

  Gwen stared at me like I’d grown an extra set of ears before her lips curved upward into a rueful smile. “I like that attitude. If that’s how you honestly feel, then stick to your guns.”

  ***

  I provided the usual generic answers to my mother that afternoon. She wasn’t happy that I didn’t give her specific details of my ‘girls’ night’ but she didn’t press either. I escaped to my room, promising to work on music later.

  Digging out my phone, I turned it on as I flopped on my bed. I frowned at the two missed calls and endless text messages. I must have missed them while I'd been enduring my mother’s version of the Spanish Inquisition.

  There were all from Jess. My heart began its usually flutter and I ignored it just as I intended to ignore Jess. At least that was my intention.

  Until the phone rang in my hand.

  I was patient enough to wait until the second ring before I answered.

  “Yes, Jess?” I said. “Can I help you with something?”

  “Why’d you just leave?” he snarled. “And then not answer your phone?”

  “I didn’t have my phone on me,” I answered robotically. “And you didn’t sound like you wanted company. I heard your potty mouth in the kitchen.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he said, not sounding in the least bit sincere. “I didn’t mean for you to just leave, damn it.”

  “I had things to do,” I told him. I could be as big a jerk as him with little effort. I heard someone shout to him in the background. “Where are you?”

  “The locker room.”

  “Why so early? The game doesn’t start for awhile and you don’t pitch until tomorrow,” I reminded him unnecessarily.

  He barked out a laugh. “And how do you know all this? I thought you hated baseball.”

  Damn, I thought. Damn, damn, damn. “Maybe you told me in your drunken stupor last night.”

  “Nice try, sweetheart. I wasn’t that drunk and I remember every single thing.” His voice was thick with insinuation.

  I was busted. I didn’t care. I’d make a fool of myself more times than not in front of him lately, anyway. And I hadn't done anything to be ashamed, either. Not really.

  “Well forget my phone number,” I lashed out in an unbecoming, childish tone.

  “Nah,” he said with a snicker. “Not a chance. You amuse me.”

  “Gee, glad I can be of help,” I muttered.

  His laughter was full and rich and too sexy for his own good. Or mine. Goose pimples broke out on my arms and I could almost feel his breath on my neck. And I thought my mother had power over me.

  “Do you want to come to the game tonight?” I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to ask. “I can still get you a ticket. Bring Gwen.”

  I had to talk fast and hang up quickly. “Can’t, Jess, sorry. I do have to work on my music.”

  “Whatever, Aubrey. Come tomorrow then. You can watch me pitch. I’ll leave you a couple of tickets at the box office.”

  And he hung up before I could. I squeezed my phone so tight that I thought I would crush it. I hoped I would crush it. If I didn’t crush it, I’d be tempted to throw it through the window. My blood flowed hot and quick through my veins and caused my temples to pulse. I dropped the phone and paced my room, trying to calm my anger.

  After several laps, my blood began to cool. I grabbed the sheet music from the foot of my bed and stood in front of my mirror. I began my scales, working on them longer than necessary, and then jumped into the next selection.

  Celine Dion. Yuck. Heat returned to my blood as I clenched the music in my fist. I flung open the door and stomped down the stairs. “Mother!”

  My mom poked her head through the kitchen door. “What’s the matter?” Her brow furrowed in concern as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Are you ill?”

  I brushed past her and tossed the music on the kitchen table. It scattered everywhere, a few sheets drifting to the floor. “You know I hate Celine Dion. You know I have a hard time with this pitch. It’s uncomfortable. I am not Celine or Mariah or Whitney.”

  She clicked her tongue at me. “Now, Aubrey Rose, you kno
w this is what the judges are looking for.”

  “No it’s not,” I shot back, hitting my stride. “They want talent and I struggle with this stuff. Why can’t I do something more me? Like Avril or Alanis or Sheryl Crow?”

  “But they don’t have sweet voices like the others.” She smiled warmly at me, approaching me with open arms. I pushed them away.

  “I don’t have that sweet voice, either. I don’t want to do Celine.” I folded my arms across my chest, grinding my teeth.

  Her lips twisted into a horrified frown. “Aubrey. Why can’t you just do Celine this one time?” Her pleading eyes highlighted the crow’s feet in the corners. She wasn’t getting any younger, though she was hardly old. I could feel the guilt coming and I had to act fast. Once the guilt hit me, the argument would be over and I’d fold like the proverbial house of cards.

  “Fine, this time. But I’m choosing my own stuff from now on.” She opened her mouth to protest but I beat her to the punch. “Richard and Marissa are close to booting me because I’m not putting enough personality into my performance. I can’t do that when I’m singing music I’m not comfortable with, you know.”

  She shut her mouth as the wheels began turning in her mind. “Fine, Aubrey Rose,” she finally agreed. “I don’t know where this behavior came from; probably from your sister. Maybe you shouldn’t spend so much time with her.”

  “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer,” I fumed. Turning, I stalked out of the room before I could upset her more. I slammed my bedroom door and flopped on the bed. I hated being that way with my mother but I was happy to finally win a battle.

  Although Gwen and Jess constantly harassed me about my mother’s influence on me, I couldn’t just leave. Not only was there the issue of not having a job or a place to live, there were other things that drove me that neither would understand, ever. Things I knew that I seriously doubted Gwen even knew.

  I owed it to my mother.

  I couldn’t let her down.

  ***

  I worked on my music all night Saturday, getting it down to a pitch I could handle. My throat tickled, signaling me to stop, but I continued anyway. It was a useful way to keep Jess and my mother off my mind.