Just One of the Guys 3 My Someday...

by Kristi Pelton

  My Someday…

  Kristi Pelton

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any trademarks, services marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. If you are reading this book and you have not purchased it or won it in an author/published contest, this book has been pirated. Please delete and support the author by purchasing the ebook from one of its distributors.

  My Someday…

  Copyright © 2013 Kristi Pelton

  Edited by Lisa Loewen

  Acknowledgements

  Wow…Emma’s story has come to an end…whew! I hope it plays out as you hoped. Thank you for reading and being a part of her journey.

  Thanks so much to a certain posse of friends who have supported me since the creation of Emma and kept pushing me. Clista! Megan! Beeg- that includes you! Even when you wanted to slap Em, I was slapping her in my head! I without a doubt have the most awesome supporters. Thank you!!

  Ben Alford…thank you for your help with the covers.

  Kevin, Ben and Zach…you guys rock!

  Go Ducks… Go Jayhawks… Go Cubs

  Chapter 1—Summer plan

  Seeing Ryan in a suit, wedged between Grant and my dad, made me smile. Mom and I sat on the opposite side of the table staring at the oversized stage. The NFL flags draped each wall and served as the backdrop of the podium in the center of the stage. The first round was twenty picks away from being complete. Ryan was starting quarterback his last two years with the Ducks, leading them to two BCS bowl games, and he was projected to go first round. But with the excessive number of QB’s this year, I watched as his never noticeable tics became more noticeable.

  “The fourteenth pick in the NFL draft belongs to the Miami Dolphins and they pick tight end, Mannie Long.”

  Cheers erupted and flashes flickered throughout the room as he made his way to the stage. Ryan shifted again in his seat as Grant kept patting his back. Their lifelong friendship had continued after college, though they would clearly now be going separate ways. So many things had changed over the past four and a half years.

  Zach had kept in touch with me until he somehow found out that Austin and I had actually gone out on a date, and he claimed he needed to “bug out” after that. From what little I could get out of Ryan, who stayed pretty tight lipped as far as Zach was concerned, he graduated from USC with a degree in sports medicine and was attending Stanford University School of Medicine working on his PHD.

  Grant was seriously dating Megan, a girl I’d grown to love and who last year spent a lot of the summer with me. Though his legendary blonde locks were much shorter than they used to be, even as an employed accountant at KPMG, he had the look of a surfer in a suit. One year away from his masters, Portland was now his home.

  “The fifteenth pick in the NFL draft belongs to the Denver Broncos and they pick offensive tackle, LaDamian Walker.”

  Ryan let out a long breath and glanced again at his continually buzzing phone but not reading anything. I picked it up and scrolled through the messages. Now I really knew how stressed he was because normally he never would have let me touch it. I skimmed over the names, seeing the usual suspects: Connor, Josh, Bret, Seth, Austin, Zach, Madison, Ali and Gabby.

  I selected Zach’s message. Dude watching waiting hoping Oakland Raiders are coming up! Booyah

  Even now, four years later, my heart still fluttered just reading his words. I scrolled down and read the one before. Safe travels good luck bro. The one before that simply said, How is she. Suddenly the phone was yanked from my hand. I’m not sure what he was being so protective about. Madison? Ali? He and Ali had been broken up nearly as long as Zach and I had been. Madison was the reason. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, but it was because of her that my brother broke up with my best friend. Ali and Ryan were still good friends, which I was happy about.

  “The sixteenth pick in the NFL draft belongs to the Kansas City Chiefs and they pick quarterback, Ryan Hendricks.”

  Our entire table exploded in cheers, and the cameras were suddenly in front of the table, flashing like strobe lights on a dance floor blinding all of us. Ryan’s smile was wide as Grant hugged him, then my dad, then mom and then me! My brother was going to Kansas City?! Wow…

  His phone was blowing up with texts as I watched the guy on stage put a KC hat on him and shake his hand. My brother was ecstatic.

  My third year at U of O finally completed, I threw all of my stuff in the Rover (the second car I’d inherited from Austin) and headed home to see my family. I hated leaving my apartment now. It was my home away from home.

  The 5 was congested, and the trip was going to be slow. Only 72 hours had passed since Ryan had become an NFL player and he and mom and dad were busy looking over things, making arrangements and doing interviews. I was still a bit hung up on the how is she text from Zach. I hadn’t heard from him in so long and those three words stirred something inside me. Something that had sat dormant for four years. Something that I thought was over…in the past. Yet, the agitation. No, that wasn’t the right word. The curiosity? I blew out a long, slow breath. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. But it caused my mind to wander…to think…to question.

  My cell phone rang from the shotgun seat.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Hi honey. I know you’re ready to be home, but would you mind stopping at Safeway and grabbing milk and orange juice?”

  Really? “OK.” I was ready to crash.

  The parking lot was empty, which would make it a quick trip in and out. As soon as I went in, I spotted Estelle working behind the register. That would delay me a bit because she would ask about absolutely everyone…well…every guy. Self-checkout may have to do. The juice and milk were in the same cooler, and when I opened the door, the window fogged over.

  “Emma?”

  Estelle? When I heard my name, I closed my eyes. This was one encounter I didn’t want to have. I glanced up, but the fog on the cooler door blurred the image and I didn’t recognize who had said my name. After grabbing the milk and OJ containers, the door snapped shut. Then I saw her. It only took a short second for the recognition to settle over me. Zach’s mom…

  “Mrs. Owens. How are you?”

  She smiled and placed her hand over her heart. “I’m ok. How are you sweet girl?”

  Suddenly, I found myself in her arms and couldn’t help but look around her to see if she was alone. I hadn’t seen her since Christmas three years ago.

  “I’m good.”

  “You look beautiful,” she said. And she on the other hand didn’t look so good. I silently prayed she wasn’t ill.

  “Thank you. How is Zach?” I asked, not just to be polite. Suddenly I really needed to know.

  Her reaction was not what I’d expected. The painful grimace that shot across her face concerned me, and for a moment I felt ill. I sat the gallon containers down. She took my hand.

  “I assume he’s fine.” She shook her head and inhaled deeply. “He doesn’t come home. He hasn’t been home in over two years. We went there for his graduation but we haven’t seen him since.” Tears pooled in her eyes.

  My mouth opened but…nothing. So, I hugged her again. What’s there to say? The clarity of my first week of summer was becomin
g clear to me. Somewhere between the overwhelming sadness and gripping anger…I knew for the first time in four years, I was probably going to have to either contact Zach Owens or beat the shit out of him. Composure…

  “Why? What happened?” This answer—her words—would determine my emotion and my decision. But seeing her this distraught was not working in his favor.

  “Oh Emma. I don’t know. He’s not Zach. He’s withdrawn and he’s angry. I don’t know. He’s pretty much just shut us out altogether.”

  DING! DING! DING! Anger it is! That’s perfect. I hadn’t been challenged for awhile. I was up for this.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly, trying to contain my emotion.

  This woman was so good to me. So kind and understanding in a time that I needed her to be. How dare he treat her this way?

  She touched my cheek. “This too shall pass, right?” Her attempted smile faltered. “It was so good seeing you. Promise me you’ll stop by and see me this summer sometime.”

  I nodded. “Absolutely. You can count on it.”

  And as she went down an aisle and I picked up the milk and juice, I wanted to shout: “you can count on seeing him too!!”

  Once I was back in my car, I texted his number. It was weird. I wasn’t nervous. I wasn’t anxious. The anger I felt trumped all other emotion.

  Zach? Send

  Nothing….hmmmm… so I called.

  Hey. This is Zach You know the drill BEEEEP….

  I hung up on his voicemail.

  Looks like I was taking a road trip to California.

  Chapter 2—California

  After ten hours in the car, I was ready to be done driving. I was sick of the songs on my IPhone at this point, my back ached and my legs needed stretched. Mom and Dad weren’t thrilled with my decision to go to California, but I was almost 21; there wasn’t a lot they could say about it. I don’t think it was necessarily California per se but more the Zach issue. My first love and first heartbreak. I think two things played into it with my parents…first, the possibility of heartbreak again. I barely survived the first time. Secondly, I think they worried I might never come back.

  California was beautiful—at least what I saw from the highway. The 405 going in and out of LA was the longest, most congested part of the trip. Turning off onto the Costa Mesa Highway, then hitting the Pacific Coast Highway knowing I was close, made me sweat.

  The thought of seeing Zach after this long also made my stomach turn. Would his reaction be a good one? Did he remember me? Did he ever think of me? Was he with someone? Could he be engaged? He was, after all, 24. I didn’t understand why he had shut out his family. The entire reason for my trip was to return him to his mom. During the past ten hours, I’d replayed over and over how I saw this going down and what I would say, but now as I drove into this neighborhood where Ryan said he lived with friends—I had nothing in my head.

  The house was small, but for this area, I couldn’t imagine what it must have cost. I could hear the ocean only a block away. Three bicycles, a Harley Davidson motorcycle and two skateboards sat on the small front porch.

  I knocked as the wind blew my hair off my shoulders. The breeze was a relief to my sweating underarms. The door swung open and a petite, little, dark-haired beauty smiled.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hi.” The possibility of this being Zach’s girlfriend, lover, possible wife hit me hard. I swallowed.

  “What’s up?”

  Her smile was warm, her teeth white, her face tan. God she was cute. I knew right away she would be impossible not to like, whoever she was.

  “Um.” I shook my head. “Does Zach live here?”

  “Yes. He’s not here right now. Who are you?” Her eyes were inquisitive.

  “Um…an old friend, I guess.”

  “OK. Well, he’s down at a bar called Panchas. I’ve known Zach a few years. I don’t recognize you.”

  Offering her the friendliest smile I could, I replied, “I haven’t seen him for a few years. Thank you for the info.”

  Her warm smile faded as I turned. As I walked to the Rover, the door never closed behind and I knew she was still there.

  “Hey Emma?” She knew who I was… I spun around. “You may not like what you see down there.”

  I nodded. “Thanks for the warning. How’d you know?”

  She stepped out into the fading sunshine. “Like I said, I’ve known him a few years.” Her comforting smile was back. “And no girls who come here are ever nice. Most are ready to kill him. I’m Sam…well, Samantha. But only my mom’s allowed to call me that.” She smiled bigger than before. “Go down this street, take a left, take a left and take a…”

  “Left?” I giggled with an arched brow.

  “You got it. The great thing is getting back here is just as easy!”

  I liked Sam. I liked her a lot. I leaned in to hug her and she didn’t resist.

  “Good luck,” she whispered. “But remember what I said. You may not like what you see. He’s probably a bit different than the Zach you remember.”

  I nodded once and got in the Rover.

  Panchas was dark except for some triangular lights hung by chains over the pool tables. Smoking wasn’t allowed in the bar, but it was evident it had been at one time because there was an overwhelming rank odor of smoke and stale beer. I felt eyes bearing into me as I studied each person. Not one of them resembled a college-aged guy. The jukebox echoed The Grateful Dead ‘s “Touch of Grey” and I was beginning to wonder if I’d gotten the wrong place.

  “Drink?” the older bald guy asked from behind the bar.

  I nodded. “Sure. Miller Lite bottle, please. I’m Emma. Can you put it on Zach’s tab?”

  His brows rose. “I’m Hank. Does he know you’re here? He doesn’t usually buy the girls drinks.”

  Ding! Ding! Ding! “No, but I’d like to surprise him. Sam told me he was here.”

  Hank titled his head to a side door behind the bar. “Sam is the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  Those 10 words nearly crushed my heart. As nice as Sam was, that was a direct hit.

  I moved toward the door; it buzzed and I pushed it open. I immediately saw a poker table with cards in the center and five different stacks of chips at each setting. A poker game? Sam’s words played out over and over again in my head. You may not like what you see. Two guys adjusted their posture when my eyes skidded over them. One smiled somewhat timidly at first, then his smile broadened as I smiled. Both looked like the college guys I thought I’d find when I walked through the front door.

  The sound of a toilet flushing caused me to spin. The guy that came out of the restroom wasn’t Zach either; but he was freaking hot. Our eyes met.

  “Hey. Who let you in here?” he asked in a kind tone.

  I tipped my head to the door. “Hank. I’m a friend of Zach’s.”

  “Are you supposed to join him?”

  I nodded and gave an ornery smile. “I am.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it got me to Zach then I was in.

  “I’m Dylan,” he said, then cocked his head to the closed door. “He’s right in there.”

  My heart beat violently against my chest and I was glad the Rolling Stones were playing over the speakers. As I tapped on the door, it slowly squeaked open. The brunette was still on her knees but they—she—had clearly just finished doing her job.

  “Thanks again, Sophia,” he mumbled as he pushed up onto his elbows. His hair was long…longer than I’d ever seen. Pushed back behind his ears. Sexy as hell. Shit.

  She tapped his leg trying to get his attention, I’m sure in an attempt to get him to notice me. His half-mast stare at her seemed lagging. She tapped him again, with me standing maybe ten feet from them in the open doorway. Then finally she pointed at me to get him to notice.

  Darted was not the right description, but his eyes and head swayed over in my direction and focused on my feet, then slowly began their assent up my body. His reactions were retarded…slo
w. What was wrong with him?

  “Pull your pants up,” Sophia said.

  A strong flash of jealousy rippled through me. An island goddess would have been the best description of her. Sam knew about this? Was she ok with it?

  His chocolate brown eyes I loved so much found mine. His were clouded…confused…not registering. A low chuckle rumbled through him.

  “What the hell did you give me, Soph?”

  Her extraordinarily long, fake fingernails scratched his head. “Just the norm baby. Why?”

  I think my upper lip pulled up on that word…baby… as Zach rubbed both eyes with his index finger and thumb then fell back on the bed.

  “I think I’m seeing things.”

  “An old friend?” she asked, tossing her purse over her shoulder and eyeballing me.

  My breath held steady in my lungs waiting for his response. His pants were still down and he didn’t even have the wherewithal to pull them up. He was high?

  The deep chuckle reverberated again through him. The irritation that crept into my body seeped from my pores.

  One eye came open and he studied me. “An old friend?” he repeated her question, beginning to pull up his britches. “Something like that.”

  My hands trembled with the desire to punch him, but it was also difficult not to look at what still hadn’t been covered by his pants.

  “I’ll be your friend,” the hot guy from earlier said from the doorway, monitoring the exchange. I looked down at my bright orange toenails.

  “Dylan,” is all Zach said as his abs tightened when sitting upright.

  Not even a small piece of me was scared of this Dylan. He was simply flirting and maybe trying to ease one of the most awkward situations I’d ever been in.