by Robin Leaf
“You knew. You knew she would be there and you didn’t tell me.”
He lowered his head. After a few moments, he slid back into the seat and closed his door. “Tell me something, Nate, if you had known she would be there, would you have gone?”
“Hell no,” I muttered under my breath, refusing to look his direction.
“Then, I did you a favor. Do your own research, Nate. You’ll see that all the claims she made about being the best are true. Your best chance of getting back on the field… is her. I knew you would jeopardize everything if you knew.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him cross his arms over his chest. “Shit, you’ve always been so stubborn.”
“It’s gotten me where I am today.”
“But I’ve never known you to be so fucking stupid.” I turned his direction and gave him a questioning look. “First of all, you let her get away. Stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Fuck you, Jake.”
“And today, you didn’t notice that she knew a lot of facts about you? Really, Dumbass? Are you that blind?” He ran his hands over his head. “Look, I have never lost touch with Etta.” I winced when he said her name. “We talk maybe once a month and have met for drinks or dinner many times over the last few years. She called me when she started the clinic to set up her computer network. She gave my number to the doctors she works with when they saw her setup, which means she is directly responsible for my success. I owe her for that. However, in all the times I’ve seen her, I can tell you that we have never talked directly about you or your career.” He looked at me. “All that stuff she knew, she found out on her own.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means she followed your career, Nate. A woman who didn’t care about you wouldn’t have done that.” He opened his car door again. “Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”
I stared at him a minute debating my options. My growling stomach made up my mind.
After we were seated and ordered, I had questions for my brother.
“So, was any of that shit about Ashley true?”
He buried his face in his hands. “Yes, but I didn’t tell you the whole truth.” I waited for him to continue.
“Well…?”
“I kind of left out a few details.” He looked at me sheepishly.
“Like...?” When he didn’t answer, I got worried. “Shit, she isn’t married, is she?”
“No, she isn’t married.” He paused, still looking pretty guilty. “But she is engaged…” he hung his head again. “… to a soldier in Afghanistan.”
“That’s almost worse than if she was married.” I sat back in my seat. “Dude, you’re poaching on someone who’s fighting in hell?” I crossed my arms. “That’s just cold, Man.”
“Hey, I already feel bad enough. And it’s not like she’s a fuck-and-forget, I actually love her. A lot. And in my defense, this guy hasn’t been home in over two years. He’s had the opportunity, but he stayed over there. If he really loved Ashley,” he growled, “he’d come home every opportunity he gets.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, I think to control his anger.
“So why do you look like you think you’re going to lose her now?”
“Because he’s due home today. He’s supposed to be here for a month.” He sighed heavier this time. “That’s what the talk was about last night, when I did tell her how I feel, by the way. She wants time to tell him about us. She doesn’t feel right telling him right after he gets home.”
Our food came. I dug in right away, but he stared at his plate.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting down my hamburger.
“I really love her, Nate. I can’t stand the thought of her with him.” He looked up at me. “I know him, and I am friends with him, which makes this worse. We went to high school together. He introduced Ashley to me and asked me to keep an eye on his girl while he was away. He is a good guy. But the thought of him touching her? Ugh.”
“If she is in love with you, who’s to say that would happen?” I asked through a mouth full of hamburger.
“Think about it; he’s been away for a long time. He’s going to want to get reacquainted, you know?” I nodded. “I know she’s not really mine, but damn.” He dunked a fry in ketchup and shoved it in his mouth. “This sucks.”
“Yeah.” It sucks about as much as having to look into the eyes of the only girl I ever loved, the girl all other women had been compared to and never measured up, at least three times a week for the next God knows how long. “I’m sorry about that, Jake. But you could…”
“So, you and Etta never…?”
I dunked a fry in his ketchup. “Nope.” He stared at me with an open mouth. “We were never together like that, Jake. Our history? Very complicated.” I chewed and swallowed. “Which means she was never mine to break up with.”
“But you loved her.”
“Yes, but we were friends, Jake. That’s all we ever were. I helped her through some bad shit, and she helped me when dad died.”
“And you lived together. And you were going to tell her…”
“Can we not talk about her any more, please?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He picked up his burger and took a big bite. “Thanks for listening about Ashley. It feels good to have someone to talk about it.” He took another bite. “Anytime I can return the favor…”
I flipped him off and finished my burger.
I wasn’t ready to talk about her, but it didn’t stop my memories.
Six
March 6, nine years ago
I sat at a table in the back corner of Doyle’s watching the room. My best friend and teammate, Chris, Josh and David, friends from high school, and Luke and Sean, two other teammates, came with me tonight and were talking about today’s game. We weren’t supposed to go out during the season, but the guys were too easy to talk into breaking that rule. We had to try to blend so coach didn’t find out we were here. That would not end well.
The beer I was nursing was getting steadily warm and was doing nothing to help me relax. I tried to look like I was listening to their conversation, nodding occasionally and laughing when they did, but I was focused on the entrance, waiting for her to appear.
It was cold for March, and Doyle’s was always cold, especially since I wasn’t really drinking. I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but I was glad I wore my favorite Astros hoodie. I actually had other clothes picked out, but I didn’t want to dress up to go to a bar. My friends would have known something was weird. They had no clue why we were really here.
It was nearing 11:30 p.m. and no sign of her yet. I started to get worried that Etta had talked her sister into going somewhere else. I sincerely hoped she hadn’t. I had been thinking of her lips for 36 hours. I wanted that kiss. I really wanted more than one.
I watched Jackson stand at the bar. I debated telling him to back off, and knowing Jackson, I was pretty sure he would have. Embarrassment kept me rooted to the chair. I didn’t want to look like the total pussy I felt like for allowing a girl, no matter how perfect she was, to affect me the way Etta Sullivan had.
I have never had to pursue a girl. Not that I’m bragging, but girls were never something I had trouble finding. I mean they didn’t necessarily flock to me, but I’d never had to work to get a girl interested. It helped that I wasn’t ugly; girls had called me everything from really cute to totally fuckable. I had a good body, which I worked incredibly hard to maintain. And I was a pretty good athlete. I didn’t really have time for dating, so I was starting to really like the no-strings-attached hook ups that the girls in college offered. I’d enjoyed more than a couple of those.
I didn’t want Etta to be just a random hook up. Yet here I was planning to be her random guy. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Half of me wanted to just leave, walk out the door and give up completely on this fucked up plan. Nathaniel Slaughter going all head case over some girl? Total Pussy.
I had to give up, just get out of here and forget it. I
stood up and was just about to say goodbye to the guys.
Then she walked in the bar.
Time slowed. Cliché and stupid, I know, but it felt like it did. I felt her presence down to my toes.
I watched her. The way she moved… graceful and easy. It was obvious to me she had been drinking already by the way she leaned into her friends, but she wasn’t stumbling or drunk, simply more relaxed. I just watched her. She was more subdued than the group around her, not in an uncomfortable way, more reserved yet no less self-assured.
She removed her jacket slowly, and she was dressed in tight-fitting, low-rise jeans and a low-cut sleeveless shirt that hit just below her waist showing hints of the smooth skin of the tops of her hips. She seemed slightly self-conscious about the shirt, trying to stay covered up without anyone noticing. But every once in a while, slight glimpses of her cleavage had me really wanting to see more. I guessed, based on her level of discomfort, someone else picked out her clothes tonight.
Her loose curls were less wild, and from this distance, I could tell she was wearing more makeup than she had yesterday, but not too much. She was stunning.
She was with five other girls, one of them obviously her twin sister, but also obviously not her identical twin. Don’t get me wrong, her sister was hot, but in that overt, hit-you-over-the-head way that draws attention to her. One of those girls who tried really hard to look like they weren’t trying too hard. I’d been with several of those.
I searched the faces of the other girls in her group. All were roughly the same age, all pretty in their own right, but none held my attention like Etta. She was perfection.
The guys noticed the girls and got up to go talk to them. I didn’t want that. In order to be random, she couldn’t know I was there. I wanted to surprise Etta. I opted to go make my way to the bar unseen, first, to be closer to the action and second, to be more available when the time came.
“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” Jackson said clapping me on the shoulder. “I figured with all the drooling you were doing over her yesterday, you’d be here. I’m glad you got the hint.” He swallowed the rest of his beer. “Now I can go home.” He smiled at me. “Good luck, Slaughter. And again, you’re welcome.”
Jackson the matchmaker. Huh. Who knew?
I turned to look at the clock over the bar. Ten short minutes until kiss time. I took a minute to plan how it would go down. Should I cradle her face? Should I slide my arms around her waist or her neck? Run my hands in her hair? Tongue, or was tongue too much? Taking her in my arms and dipping her? Dipping was good, romantic even.
Romantic? What the hell? It’s a fucking kiss, not a stupid movie. This girl is making me freaking sappy.
Watching without being noticed, and feeling a little like a stalker, I hid behind the guy next to me at the bar, staring around him. The girls with Etta were laughing with my teammates, but she looked apprehensively around the bar, no doubt looking for Jackson. I bowed my head when she scanned the bar for him. I took the opportunity to re-check the clock. Still five minutes to go. When I glanced back in her direction, I looked directly into her eyes. Fuck. I’d been spotted.
She grinned, she actually grinned. Trying to play it cool, I saluted her with my bottle and mouthed happy birthday to her. She simply nodded once and looked down. I swear she blushed, but the distance and the darkness of the bar made it hard to tell for sure.
Commotion started at their table. The girls circled around her, and she emerged blindfolded. They turned her around three times like this was some pin-the-tail game. Her sister removed the blindfold and gently pushed her. Her eyes searched for someone, but who?
They locked on mine.
Holy shit, she locked in on me.
She moved slowly in my direction, eyes never wavering. I stood like a dumbass glued to the spot. She stopped about three feet from me, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
I quickly downed the rest of my beer and set the empty bottle on the bar behind me. When I turned back around, someone was standing directly in front of me, blocking me from Etta and our amazing first kiss. He was bent down, as if he was… No. It took me a few moments to realize what was happening. He was kissing my someone.
What. The. Hell.
This asshole stole my kiss.
My. Kiss.
I took a step to the side, and I recognized the asshole. The same one who sat next to me the day before. The same one who was such a crass jack hole about Etta. The same one who was always in my way. Ozzie Franklin. Fuck nugget extraordinaire.
Oh. Hell. No.
He didn’t deserve her.
I couldn’t be certain, but she seemed to grunt and jerk back away from the kiss. When she opened her eyes, she looked confused for a second until recognition settled. She looked… deflated, slightly angry even, and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.
She backed away and her eyes settled on me. I tried to keep my face expressionless, deciding that showing my intense jealousy by punching Franklin in the face would not be a wise move if I had any chance in hell with her.
She looked back at Franklin, covering her lips with her fingertips, and gave him a small smile of apology.
“Sorry, Franklin. I thought you were someone else.” She turned to head back toward her table.
He seized her upper arm, forcing her to turn back to him. “Wow, Sullivan,” he slurred and moved in closer, running his fingers down to her elbow. “You sure can kiss.”
I was just about to step in between them when she shuddered slightly, but before I could react, she grabbed his hand and threw it away from her arm. “Yeah, that won’t be happening again,” she whispered menacingly.
He swallowed, stumbled slightly and stage whispered into her ear, “I bet you’d give a good blow job.”
I noticed that she raised her eyebrow and pushed him so hard that he stumbled backward into me. “I’d offer you one, but I’m not sure how those ears would fit in my mouth.”
He stood up swaying, squinting at her. “Wait, did you just …”
“Call you a dickhead? Yeah, I did.” Then she walked casually back to her cheering friends.
My girl was feisty. Yes, I said my girl.
Franklin stood there staring after her for a few seconds before deciding to walk to a table of his friends. A scantily clad, bleached blond bimbo threw her arms around his neck, but he pushed her off and downed his drink, all the while shooting daggers at Etta. I decided right then to stay and watch out for her. He was drunk, and I knew he was the type to show his full-strength-asshole self when alcohol was involved.
I was afraid all she did was poke the beast.
Commotion came from the girls’ table again, which must have meant it was Etta’s sister’s turn. I was too focused on the scowling jerk to watch, so it was too late to rebuff the kiss planted on the side of my mouth by the sister. Her lips made very brief contact, then she pushed herself back. I looked over her head to see Etta’s mouth slightly open in surprise. Was she hurt?
I looked back into the smiling face of the girl who kissed me. Similarities were more apparent this close up, shape of the face and the nose. Etta’s lips were slightly fuller. This girl had little rounder chin, and her hair was lighter, almost blonde with a slight red tint to it. But the eyes… they were definitely not the same. Emerald green ones looked at me instead of Etta’s stormy greenish blue. These were pretty, but they were not even close to the speech-stealing, stupid-inducing color of her sister’s.
“Hi, I’m Emily,” she said in a low, hurried voice. “I’ve been watching you and my sister watch each other since we’ve been here. And I noticed your reaction when she kissed that knuckle-dragging mouth breather. I know you’re into her. I knew she would never come talk to you herself.” I looked back at Emily’s smiling face. “And since it seems you aren’t going to talk to her on your own either, I figured I would make a move for her.” She smiled and hooked her hand around my elbow. “So, now I’ve given you an excuse to join u
s.” She stopped and looked at me. “Who are you?”
“Nathaniel.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows and looked me up and down, almost scrutinizing me. “Humph,” she whispered, “better than I expected.” She led me to the table before I could ask what that meant. “Everyone, this is Nathaniel. I think you know the guys, so I’ll stick to the girls.” She stood me right next to Etta and pointed to each person as she said their names. “This is my best friend Vanessa. That’s Sarah and her sister Samantha, my sister’s best friend Beth, and this,” she placed my hand in Etta’s, “is my sister, Eddie, but I think you two already met.” Emily batted her eyes at me. “Am I wrong?”
Etta looked at the ground.
“No,” I answered, smiling when the gorgeous eyes met mine again. “You’re not wrong.”
“Never am,” Emily mumbled as she walked away.
“Eddie?”
“My nickname. She’s called me that since we were kids. I think she always wished I was a brother.”
“Is she always that pushy?” I asked, circling the back of her hand with my thumb.
She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. And she always gets her way. See how we’re here? Spending my birthday in a bar is so not my style.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met twins with different birthdays before. Does that suck?”
“No,” Etta said, letting go of my hand to push her hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. “It’s actually kind of cool. We, well until this year, always had separate birthday parties. My mom kind of insisted on it. Said she wanted us to have separate interests and become our own identities. She never let us dress alike or anything like that either.”
“So then why did you let your sister dress you tonight?”
“How did you know she…” she looked down at her shirt and adjusted it. She looked back up at me with a half-smile on her face. “She’s pushy, remember?”
“But you aren’t identical twins. Not looking exactly alike makes it easier to be your own person, doesn’t it?”