Blur: A Sports Romance

by Piper Page

  The tires screeched once more as I slammed on my brakes and threw the gearshift into park. My mechanic would be cussing me up and down after all the work he’d just done to fix my brakes and rotors, only for me to treat my car like it belonged in the Daytona 500. I didn’t care at that point. I slammed my door and marched myself up the two flights of dimly lit, littered stairs to Giovanni’s apartment. My small fist pounded on the old, worn and weathered apartment door. The brass numbers had tarnished and were hanging loose. They shook and scrapped at the wood each time the side of my clenched fist made contact with his apartment door.

  “Giovanni! Open up!” I yelled. I could hear shuffling movement inside the apartment. “I’m not fooling around out here, Giovanni.”

  The sound of the chain sliding out of its housing and the clank of two deadbolts unlocking echoed out into the dingy hallway. I tapped my foot impatiently while staring up at a cobweb that had been spun around the shattered light bulb of the broken exit sign.

  My brother finally appeared in the crack between the door and the doorframe, peering out, groggy eyed with mussed bedhead. He had slung an old bathrobe around his shoulders like a cape and lounge pants riding low on his waist, wrinkled and stained. I shoved at the door with all my body weight behind my arms and pushed my way into the apartment, taking him off-guard. “Good afternoon, sunshine.” I griped sarcastically. “So happy you could drag your sorry ass out of bed at the crack of noon.”

  “What the hell, Mallory?” He combed his fingers through his unruly hair and scrubbed at the scruff on his face.

  I looked about the apartment. It was a disaster. There was clothing strewn on the furniture, old pizza boxes and milkshake cups on the tables and the floor. Ashtrays that needed emptying and beer bottles were piled in an old garbage bag by the door.

  “You want coffee?” My brother picked up a half-empty coffee mug and walked to the kitchen sink, dumping out the stale liquid and adding hot water that he promptly poured into his coffee maker without so much as rinsing the cup.

  I grimaced. “I think I’ll pass on the salmonella mocha, thanks. Do you ever clean? I don’t even know where’s safe to sit down.”

  “Oh, were you planning on staying? Spot of tea, scone?” His sarcasm was a match for my own.

  “No, actually. I came over here to tell you something.” I turned, kicking a bag of fast food wrappers out of my way.

  Giovanni stood between the kitchenette and the living room, his arms stretched over his head and his fingers clinging to the dingy entryway above his head that separated the two. “What? I am all ears.” He smirked, challenging me with his eyes. The same eyes I looked at in the mirror each morning. Giovanni and I weren’t too different. Standing side by side, it was easy to tell we were siblings. Other than his height and gender, there wasn’t a lot different about us. Oh, and the fact that I hadn’t had my nose broken a half dozen times or more. “Spit it out, Mallory, I don’t got all day.”

  I gave him a disbelieving look, then swiveled about the disgusting apartment. “Seriously?”

  “Damn it Mallory, what do you want?”

  I took a deep breath and got my hackles up. “I want you to stay out of my business, that’s what I want.”

  He shrugged and turned his back on me.

  “Giovanni, listen to me,” I demanded with my small fists on my hips. “You have no right to dictate to me what I can and can’t do or who I can or can’t see. You’ve done it my whole life, and it stops now.”

  He rolled his eyes, and I wanted to slap him. “Mal Pal, you’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “No, no, no, don’t you do that. Don’t you go to that shit, we aren’t kids anymore. I may be your little sister, but I’m not the little seven-year-old you bossed around in front of your friends. I am not your Mal Pal anymore. This is not you telling me to get you a freaking slice of pizza or you’ll tell Ma I used her lipstick. This is my life, damn it!” My voice was shrieking, and I didn’t care.

  “Mallory, hey.” He tried to wrap me in a brotherly hug, but I pulled away.

  “No.”

  He threw his hands up. “Fine, Jesus what do you want from me?”

  My jaw dropped. “Have you listened to one word I have said?”

  “Yeah, no, no, no and freaking slice of pizza.”

  “You know what, you’re an asshole. I don’t know you anymore. Ever since Ma and Pops died and you decided to single handedly try to take over the dealings here in Elizabeth, I don’t know who you are anymore. You’re trying to be mafia king extraordinaire instead of the stupid yet sometimes sweet brother that I loved.” My face was red, but my jaw was set.

  “I don’t trust you. I don’t know you, and I don’t think I can be around you anymore, Giovanni. If that means quitting Pushing Daises so that you and your goon squad can’t fuck it up, then I quit, and don’t think I won’t sell the house and move away, if that keeps me from your new nonsense.” I was pacing and waving my wands like a complete lunatic by this point.

  “Ho ho ho, hold up, Mallory.” His eyes were wide, and he was finally taking note of the words that were flowing like hot lava from my mouth. “What makes you think I would have anything to do with ending the flower shop?”

  I gave him an exasperated look.

  “Mallory,” he breathed, taking a step toward me and I stepped backward. “Mal, come on. You’re my sister, my only family. I would never do something that would harm you in any way. Don’t jump the shark here. Don’t sell the house or leave the shop. If you don’t wanna see me, fine, I’ll stay out of sight, but I need you in my life. You’re my baby sister, and I love you. I’m sorry if I fucked up here, okay?” He had lowered his body to a hunched position with his hands out, almost begging me to reconsider.

  My heart softened. Giovanni took care of me for those first few years after our parents died. When I turned eighteen and our parent’s will said I was able to fend for myself, he’d handed me over the house, which had been left to me, and he’d signed over my trust fund without a fight. We still had Sunday dinners—every Sunday for a year when he first moved out. Then he started showing up late, then not at all. I pushed that aside. He was listening now, and that’s what I wanted.

  I looked down and scuffed my sneaker over the scratched and dented hardwood floor. “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “Okay, I agree. You fucked up.”

  He smiled, and then he inched toward me and started to poke at me with a playful fist, making me squirm and yelp.

  “Okay, okay,” I swatted at his hands, and then I hugged him. When I pulled away, I held him by the back of his neck digging my fingers into the skin. “Giovanni, you’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”

  He nodded and winced when my grip tightened. He knew he could fling me off him like a rag doll, but he endured and listened.

  “Tell me you’re gonna stay out of my affairs.”

  His blue eyes looked directly into my own. “Mallory, business will always be business, but you’ll always be my little sister, and I promise you, I’ll try to stay out of your love life.”

  I pushed his shoulder away from me with my free hand and released the back of his neck. He took a step backward and rubbed at the bruised skin.

  “Walk me out,” I demanded, “and call a cleaning service, to. This place has gotta be infested.”

  Giovanni walked me to the stoop outside his building, still dressed in his lounge pants and bathrobe. He kissed my cheek and gave me another hug, vowing to see me for dinner on Sunday. I waved to him as I bounded down the steps, looking back as he disappeared into the building, and then I turned and ran into a brick wall of solid muscle and towering height.

  Chapter Twelve

  Adrian

  “Who was that?” I asked thickly as I held Mallory by her upper arms so that she wouldn’t topple over on to the sidewalk, my blood running hot. I was watching her come down the stairs and had prepared myself for the impending impact of our bodies. She
looked up at me, confused and stunned. It took her a good thirty seconds to adjust and realize that it was me she had bumped into.

  “Adrian, what are you, how did you…what?” Her nose wrinkled as she looked up at me and squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun.

  “Is he the reason you won’t go out with me?”

  Mallory looked back towards the empty stairs and then back to me, her features had transformed from shock to sadness. “Yes.”

  “So you are seeing someone else.” I sighed and let my hands drop to my sides. “I thought you might be, but I didn’t want to believe it. Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend? Was that who you were screaming at? Did he hurt you?” Suddenly my defenses were up. I’d kill him if he had laid a finger on her.

  Mallory look taken aback, then shook her head hastily. “Wait, slow down a minute. You’re making my head spin. It’s been a real suck-ish last twelve hours. Can we start over, please?”

  I bit back the frustration roiling in me just a bit longer. “Yeah, yeah, as soon as you tell me you aren’t hurt.”

  She laid the flat of her hand on my chest and gazed up at me, and my heart danced. I could feel her vibration from my chest to my toes. “I’m not hurt.”

  I felt the adrenaline dump flow through me. “Okay.”

  “Adrian, how did you get here?”

  I looked down at her beautiful blue eyes. “I took a taxi from the flower shop.”

  She gave me a suspicious sideways glance. “You followed me? Adrian, are you spying on me now?”

  “No! I mean, yes, kind of, but no.” I let a frustrated sigh out and started over. “I wasn’t purposely spying on you. I mean, I know it looks that way, but really, I came to the shop to make sure you were okay and talk about what happened, why you didn’t want to see me. Then I saw you storm out and peel out onto the road, and I was worried, so I grabbed a taxi. I thought you were going home, but then you came here.” I looked up at the dilapidated building. “Why are you here? If that guy’s your boyfriend, it’s okay, just be honest with me.”

  She was smiling, thoroughly amused with me.

  “What?”

  “You’re cute when you are jealous and flustered.”

  I shook my head and pursed my lips. “Mallory.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.” She let her features go back to the seriousness of the situation. “Come, sit down with me.”

  I eyed the steps. They were filthy. My hands grabbed up a folded newspaper from the top of a cover tin trash can and spread it out before we took a seat on the steps. “So what’s the deal? Is he like your high school sweetheart?”

  She laughed. “Giovanni?” she laughed harder, “Dear god, no. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s my brother.”

  My emotions let forth a floodgate of mixed feelings. Her brother? She had a brother? A brother who was alive. She didn’t have a boyfriend. It was her family that was fighting with her like that. Why? I rode through a coaster of happiness, anger, disbelief, sorrow, and yes, jealousy. In the span of a few seconds, I was emotionally exhausted. “Your brother?”

  Mallory nodded, looking at me from the side, her hair a jumbled sexy mass on top of her head that shimmered in the rays of the sun.

  “Do you always scream at him like that?”

  She smirked. “You heard that?”

  “I think the whole city heard that.”

  She covered her face with her hands and moaned. “Our relationship is…complicated.”

  “But you have one.” I regretted saying that the second the words came out of my mouth.

  Mallory took my hand. “I know. I should be thankful I have him. Sometimes he’s a real asshole, and I have to remind him.”

  “Who’s older?”

  “He is.”

  I nodded. “Okay, now I get it. Alex was an overbearing brother sometimes too. But what happened to make you race over here like that and throw a verbal grenade at him?”

  She hesitated. “He hasn’t made the best choices in his life. I worry about him more than I should.”

  “He’s your brother.” I pointed out.

  Her hand stayed in mine. “I know, but I don’t have to encourage his stupidity. I know he’s trying to do what he thinks is right and keep up with what my father did. He wants to know I’m safe and cared for. I get all that I do,” she gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, “but god, sometimes he makes me so angry.”

  I nodded and squeezed her hand back, letting her know I understood.

  “He was the reason I said I couldn’t see you. He’s always interfered with my relationships.” She hesitated. “Well, no, that’s not totally fair—sometimes he rescues me from them, so I guess he only has my best interest at heart.” she shrugged.

  “Yeah, I think older siblings usually do. Did you get it sorted out though?”

  “I think so.” She smiled as she spoke and looked directly at me. “He’s not out here kicking your ass, so that’s a good sign.”

  “Ha, I’d like to see him try.” I laughed, but inside, I was serious. It didn’t matter that he was her brother, he obviously made her upset, so much so that she nearly wrecked her car a few times getting over here.

  “I’m sorry that we put you through that.” I felt her lift my hand and kiss the back of it with her soft lips. “Forgive me?”

  “Oh kitten, there’s nothing to forgive.” I cupped her cheeks and kissed her lips, something I had been waiting and wanting to do since her lips left mine cold and alone at the cemetery. She didn’t pull back, her mouth lingering on mine, and everything felt right in the world for that minute. “Can I drive you home?”

  “You don’t have your car. Taxi, remember?” She looked around, pretending to search for my Lexus.

  “Right. Well, can I drive myself home in your car and take you along for the ride?”

  She looked at me as if I had asked for the Hope Diamond. Her hand went to her chest. “You follow me down here and then expect me to let you drive my precious car around the city like you own it?”

  I laughed and she yelped as I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to her car at the curb. I set her down and opened the passenger side door. She climbed in and I stood there rethinking my decision to drive.

  “Are you getting in?”

  “Um, I don’t think I can fit in there. What is this? A clown’s golf cart?”

  “Shut up,” she laughed. “I love my little car, and it’s a Spark.”

  I rounded the front of the windup toy car and stuffed my body into the front seat. “How do I make the squirrels start running?”

  She slapped at my shoulder. “Stop!”

  I was pleasantly surprised at how much room there actually was inside the vehicle. It was deceiving from the outside. I leaned over the gearshift and kissed her. “I’m sorry. It’s cute, just like you.”

  There was that growingly familiar blush I was starting to really adore. I laid my hand on her knee once I had shifted us into gear and drove to my street. I let the car idle in front of my apartment building, not wanting to let her go.

  “This is me.”

  She looked up at the nondescript brick building. It looked similar to the one next to it, and the one next to that. The only difference was the four numbers over the entry way that indicated which building was which. Mine was 1207.

  “Nice.”

  “If you wanted you could come upstairs, see the place.”

  Mallory gave me a polite smile. “I really would like that, but if I’m being honest I’m emotionally exhausted, and I’d like to soak in a hot tub and sleep for about forty-eight hours.” Her laughter was sweet and honest, and I couldn’t bring myself to use my charm and woo her into my bed when I knew she needed some time and some rest. My heart didn’t worry that she would reject me again.

  “Okay,” I grabbed hold of her thigh and squeezed the soft, warm skin. “Tomorrow night? Dinner?”

  “I would like that very much.” And then she kissed me to seal the deal.

  C
hapter Thirteen

  Mallory

  “You look amazing,” gushed Leslie as she adjusted the thin strap of my dress on my bare shoulder.

  “I should have grabbed a sweater,” I muttered as I wiggled and adjusted my breasts inside my strapless bra for the third time. “I feel overexposed.”

  Leslie slapped at my hand. “Stop fidgeting. You look fabulous, and if you’ve got it, flaunt it. Believe me, Adrian isn’t going to object to this look at all. Oh wait,” she interrupted herself. “I brought you some of that great gloss you like.” She dug around in her oversized sling bag. “Damn it, I had it the other night.”

  I smiled at my dearest friend. She was being positive, encouraging this relationship without any objections. I watched her sink her arm halfway past her elbow into the shimmery silver bag.

  “Gawwwwd, where is it? Hey, why is he picking you up here?”

  I blushed and whispered, “He said if he came to the house we may never leave.” I giggled.

  “So hot.”

  “Who’s so hot? Me?” Robbie came in to the shop with his clipboard and keys in hand.

  Leslie shook her head. “Hardly.”

  My heart broke a little for my friends. I wish they had listened when I suggested it wasn’t the best idea for them to date.

  Robbie stuck his tongue out and headed back to give Mr. Alika the key to the delivery van and his receipts. “Oh hey, Les?” Robbie tossed something from his pocket.

  Leslie turned moments before a small plastic bag landed in her waiting hands.

  “You left that at my place last night.”

  I gave her a wide eyed look of surprise. “Really?”

  Leslie opened the pink bag and pulled out the lip gloss. She waved it in front of me. “Sometimes making up is the best sex ever.”