by C. B. Stagg
She laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. “Girl, be honest. If I had told you Casey was a man, would you have agreed to coach with him?”
I shook my head.
“That’s what I thought.” She cleared her throat. “Vaughn, I have known that boy for more than ten years. We grew up on the same cul-de-sac. We’re close, Vaughn. In fact, remember Jase?” I nodded, remembering meeting her redheaded friend a few times over the years. “Well, Jase and I even shared best man duties at Casey’s wedding some years back.”
Um, excuse me? Wedding? Goodbye, smile. Where did all the air go? Is it getting hot in here? I need water. And just what in the world is that prickling feeling behind my eyes. Those are NOT tears.
“Vaughn?”
Hearing my name shook me from my daze.
“Look, Casey is a great guy… ” She hesitated, almost like she was fighting the urge to say more. Yeah, I bet his wife thinks so, too! "He could really use a friend right now. Someone who isn’t so intertwined with his past.” I found that statement odd. What would that have to do with me? “I was hoping, maybe, you could be that friend for him?” Oh. Now I see. But, how was I supposed to respond to that?
Nodding, I left her office with the Post-it note in my tight grip, and didn’t stop until I was all the way home.
6-Casey
MOVING SUCKS.
Luckily, I took so little with me that it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I’d need to go hit up a Target soon though, if I was going to make it in this new bachelor life of mine.
The official petition for divorce had finally been filed with the courts; having been delayed while Kris was looking for an apartment near her newly accepted internship. I was grateful for the haste in which Jase had the papers drawn up on my behalf. Since we had no money, no debts, and no assets aside from the condo I’d already signed over to Kris, it was an easy split. I just wanted it done. With any luck, sixty days from now Kris and I would be free, and by Thanksgiving I would be single. When that thought crossed my mind, a sad relief washed over me.
I plopped down hard on my bed and opened a celebratory beer. I didn’t make a habit out of drinking. In bed. Alone. But at that particular moment, the bed frame with the new mattress set on top of it was my only option—floor notwithstanding. Inhaling the beer in huge gulps, I closed my eyes and waited. I knew she would appear. She always did when I let my thoughts wander lately.
It was like my brain had programmed this sweet redhead as my mind’s screensaver. I couldn’t seem to keep little Miss Vaughn Jennings, with her burning red hair and freckled skin, out of my head.
It was that blazing red hair that she always had pulled up high on her head that came to my mind’s eye. I wanted to run my fingers through it, grabbing fistfuls to pull and tug her head, allowing access to that long neck with those freckles running down to her chest, seemingly doubling in number each time I saw her.
And those lips of hers. Those lips that could smile or pout, even curl in disgust, and still make me want to kiss them until they were swollen and bruised. I was almost breathless to know what she tasted like. There was an electric hum I felt throughout my entire body whenever she was around.
I thought about tomorrow, our first game. I couldn’t wait to stand next to her on the sidelines. That girl had awakened something in me that I didn’t even know existed.
I just about jumped out of my skin when I was jolted awake by the ringing of my cell phone. Damn, how long had I been asleep? I stretched and groaned, scratching my beard as I thought about everything I still had to do before I could hit the sack. Feeling the vibration in my pocket a split second before it rang again, I was almost joyous to see an unfamiliar number pop up on the caller ID. I had neither the desire, nor the time, for small talk.
I swiped my finger across my screen to answer. “This is Casey,” I spit out in my usual clipped style. Some would call it rude, but I considered it efficient.
“Um, hey, Casey?”
Dear God, could that timid voice possibly be more adorable?
I heard her take a shaky breath before continuing. “This is… Vaughn?”
Was that a question? Was she asking me who she was or was she just that nervous to be talking to me? Falling back on the bed, I closed my eyes with a smile. I had no trouble picturing sweet Vaughn, her neck and cheeks reddening at the idea of talking to me. I loved that I affected her as much as she affected me.
“Hey, Vaughn. What can I do for you?”
Still efficiently clipped. Hadn’t I just been lying here, trying to conjure up a reason to contact her? It was my wish come true, but here she was, and I had no idea what to say to her. She was this beautifully mysterious girl who had dominated my thoughts for the past two weeks and here I was being a jerk. My attitude toward her seemed to always come across as petulant and immature.
“Hey, yeah, I was hoping to talk to you about what happened yesterday… with that little boy at practice?”
Ah, Julian. She wanted to talk about Julian. “Yeah, that’s Julian, and as you’ve probably guessed, he has quite a story.”
“So, do you have some free time this weekend, maybe?” Ha, I’ve got nothing but time for you, sweet girl. "To, um… fill me in on Julian and the other kids, and maybe… go over your expectations for me?” Wait, what? "You know, as your assistant coach, I mean?”
Even with her clarification, I couldn’t help imagining going over my ‘expectations’ for her. This was not good. I needed to stop thinking about her like that.
“Sure… I have some free time.” I will always make time for you. “Do you like pizza? Burgers? Or are you more of a coffee person?” I wanted to pin her down to something, terrified this opportunity might not present itself again. She wasn’t getting off the phone without committing to a date for this meeting she called about. “You know, we could meet somewhere and then—”
Sirens came on suddenly, loud and close, drowning out her voice through the phone line.
“Oh, my gosh… ” I heard Vaughn say more to herself than to me. I could hear her shuffling and shifting the phone in her hand. “I may need to call you back,” she said, a little bit louder this time, still distracted. The sound of metal window blinds crinkling, bending a little, then popping back into shape from her side of the line still wasn’t enough to drown out the fire trucks and whatever else was going on. ”I think there was a… It looks like there’s been a terrible accident on the road right outside my apartment… I’ll call you back.”
The line went silent.
Tossing the phone on the bed in frustration, I tried to process what the hell had just happened to cause Vaughn to cut our call short. Pissed off, I ran my fingers through my hair.
Wait. Do I still hear sirens?
I did, and close to my apartment, too. It was then I noticed the red emergency lights flashing through my dark room through the uncovered window. With nothing better to do, I hopped up and headed outside. Taking the stairs by twos, I let my curiosity get the best of me.
The atmosphere changed, and the scene became chaotic once I hit the ground floor. A late eighties style, rusty white Ford truck had completely flipped and was lying right across the middle of the two-lane road. Glass was glittering red all over the pavement, reflecting the lights of the first responders. Despite the awkward position of the truck, the frame appeared to have held up well enough to keep the passenger intact, though the emergency workers looked to be struggling to free him from the cab. He was wedged in tight, poor guy.
The strong smell of gas burned my nostrils and the fumes reached my eyes just as I saw wisps of smoke start to rise from the underside of the vehicle. Yet the responders seemed unaware of the new apparent danger, being hyper-focused on rescuing the driver. I quickened my pace, hoping to get someone’s attention, when I heard panicked cries coming from the other side of the wreckage.
“Hey!” I heard from across the street. “Hey, look at the tank! The gas tank! Hey! I think it’s going to—”
&n
bsp; That voice.
I knew that voice.
All other distractions dropped away as I zoned in on that voice, running full speed in her direction. Dodging onlookers, as well as the glass and debris that littered the road, I ran straight for the sound of her yelling. I wouldn’t stop until Vaughn was safely in my arms, but I’d be lucky to find her in the growing cloud of smoke, which had started pouring from the truck just in the last few seconds.
But I did find her, seconds later. She was barefoot and just barely decent in a small pink tank and maroon running shorts. Her wet hair flew behind her in waves as she barreled toward the burning truck. She flailed her arms in the air as she screamed, trying anything to get the attention of the emergency workers. I doubled my speed, colliding with her just as she stepped off the curb and into what I would consider the official scene of the accident. She was no more than five feet from the truck, which was seconds away from being engulfed in flames, when I finally laid hands on her.
Scooping her up, I wrapped her in my arms like she weighed nothing and hauled her in the opposite direction. Almost immediately, a loud whoosh sounded behind us and just as the emergency workers cleared the area with the old man, bright orange lit up the night sky and severe heat filled the already-humid air. I threw Vaughn onto the first patch of grass I found and landed directly on top of her, holding her tight and creating a barrier from the danger surrounding us. I just wanted her protected from anything that could cause her harm. Not just in this moment, but always.
The exploding gas tank shook the ground, as flames and sparks shot through the sky like fireworks. After the initial blast, the fire died down almost immediately, and I eased off a bit once I saw the firefighters had things under control. Shifting my weight to my elbows, I inspected her from head to toe, assuring myself she was unharmed. Vaughn remained folded up on her side, her tangled hair covering her face completely. Hearing her uncontrollable chokes and sobs tore me up inside and I found myself, once again, willing to do anything to make the fear disappear and make her feel safe forever.
I brushed the hair from her face with a gentle hand, watching as her eyes slowly opened to meet mine. With recognition lighting up her face, she threw her arms around me, pulling me back down on top of her. Her hold around my neck was impressive, and breathing in and out, I willed my heart to slow down as I ran my hands over her hair. I could physically feel her calming down, as her sobs became softer and less frequent, a sure sign she was coming down from her adrenaline rush. Still, I held her firmly, running my hands up and down her body as I touched her everywhere, checking for injuries.
Once I was sure the threat of danger was gone, I rocked us up into a sitting position on the grass and pulled her onto my lap, cradling her. We watched in silence as the paramedics loaded the driver into the ambulance. They moved with the precision and urgency only used with patients who had a good chance of survival. And I knew that Vaughn had come to the same conclusion because I felt her body relax into mine a little more, satisfied that we hadn’t just witnessed someone’s death.
Once the fire was out, the cleanup team starting clearing the roadway. Then the tow trailer came to take away what was left of the truck. It all seemed to happen so fast, yet we’d been sitting out there for close to an hour.
The sudden stillness in the air was my cue to leave the scene, so I stood on legs I didn’t quite trust, holding Vaughn’s curled body as close to mine as humanly possible. Sensing my movement even before I’d begun, she tightened her grip around my neck and kept her face buried there as I crossed the street and started up the two flights of stairs that led back to my place.
The front door of my apartment still stood partially open from when I’d rushed out earlier, which made it easy to enter. Kicking it closed, I walked through the empty living room, past the kitchen, and straight into my bedroom. I sat gently on the edge of my bed, thankful again for assembling my high bed frame and making it with sheets and a quilt earlier in the evening.
After sharing a few deep, calming breaths, I loosened my hold on Vaughn, thinking I’d created somewhat of an awkward situation and she’d probably want some space. But instead of moving away, she clung to me even tighter, swinging her leg over my body. In an instant, she’d straddled my lap and began running her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.
Then she pressed her lips softly to my mine.
7-Vaughn
IN THE DAYS SINCE meeting Casey Clark, I only had to close my eyes for him to appear. His bearded face and piercing eyes consumed my thoughts, day and night. So it seemed only natural to assume that the image of Casey, appearing through the smoke at that precise moment, was an apparition. Knights in shining armor, coming to the rescue of the princess, were the stuff of fairy tales. But the fact that I found myself in his arms blew that theory out of the water.
While he cradled me like something precious, perched on the edge of a freshly made bed, we struggled to catch our breath. The second his hold on me loosened, I seized the opportunity to get closer, allowing my hands to roam up his neck and into his silky hair. I’d wanted to find myself in this exact position several times over the last few weeks, so I took full advantage, placing my mouth on his delicious lips. His body responded immediately, so I pressed myself closer, deepening the kiss.
Our first kiss.
My very first kiss.
As my hands explored his chest, I wanted nothing more than to crawl inside his skin. I couldn’t get close enough. As he ran his hands over my face, over my shoulders, and down the sides of my body, his thumbs grazed the sides of my breasts, sending me into space. Through all this, his mouth never left mine.
This was new.
It was all new.
But it was marvelous, and I wanted more.
Casey’s big, strong hands started tracing the hemline of my shirt, back and forth, finally finding their way underneath my tank, sparking yet another new sensation inside my body. I slowly felt the world around us start coming back into focus. Snapping back to reality at the same time, we both pulled back to catch our breath. I looked up at him and our eyes locked in the most intense and intimate moment ever experienced between two people, though not a word was spoken.
I knew it was wrong, what I was doing. I’ve known him what, two weeks? And wasn’t it just today that his best friend, my mentor, had informed me he was married? I’d spent my entire life trying to be stronger than my mother. I’d steered clear of men, never allowing myself to feel anything for anyone. I’d lived in fear of the pain I knew physical connections caused, yet the second the opportunity presented itself, I was mauling another woman’s husband.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his question coming out more as a breath that tickled my face.
“Yeah,” I said, as I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I rested my forehead against his, praying for time to stop so I could just breathe him in.
“Vaughn… What is this?” He wasn’t referring to a tangible object, rather the electric and obvious mutual attraction we felt for each other, which was as real to me as the nose on my face.
I shook my head, tightening my hold on him. “I don’t know.”
It was my honest answer. Being with Casey was like nothing I’d ever experienced, so I had no words to describe it.
And, in all honesty, I wasn’t ready to let him go yet. Because I knew as soon as I did—once this moment was gone—I’d have to acknowledge that nothing about this magical night was real. He belonged to someone else. He wasn’t mine to love and keep forever.
I’d always felt rather content with the solitary life I’d built for myself. I was proud of how far I’d come in the years following my mom’s death, but being here, wrapped in these strong, sun-kissed arms, a cold fear crept into my bones. It was one thing being alone by choice. But now I’d had a taste of Casey, who could really never be mine. He was breaking me.
And here I’ve always thought of myself as already broken.
Seeing Casey tonight was like finally be
ing thrown a life preserver. I anchored myself to him, not knowing the hurricane of emotion my decision tonight would bring.
How would I fare when the storm dissipated and I was alone again?
I awoke with a start, having dreamed that I was alone, fingers white-knuckled around some floating object, as I bobbed up and down with nothing but ocean in all directions. This dream wasn’t a new one, and I didn’t need a degree in psychology to analyze what it meant.
At once, the memories of the night’s events infiltrated my brain like a slap across the face as Casey’s spicy, woodsy scent filled my nostrils. It all crashed into my head: the phone call, the accident, the rescue, the kissing. It had all been real. It happened.
I sat up on the small bed in the unfamiliar room that smelled so much like Casey. Waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I sat still and listened for signs of life, but the painful silence told me there was no one in the apartment with me.
Wandering out, I found Casey on the balcony. He was shirtless and seated in a fabric sports chair with his bare feet propped up on the railing. I could just make out a dark bottle of Shiner Bock between his legs, and I noticed his head was tilted back, face toward the sky. The patio door was wide open, but my approach had been quiet, allowing me some time to drink him in with my eyes and memorize his form. After a moment or two, he stood, stretching tall and wide, before he bent at the waist to collect a few more bottles from the ground. I was glued to my spot. As he turned to head back inside, he stopped short at the sight of me.
I wanted to go to him and wrap my body around his. I wanted to beg him to never let me spend another day of my life without him. I wanted to show him what I felt.
With my hands…