Beyond Definition

by Wilder, Jenni

  “Yeah, definitely time to get you home,” Kennedy’s husband said.

  “Baby!” Kennedy exclaimed as if she just noticed her husband standing with his arms around her. She leaned in and gave him a sloppy kiss on the lips. “Mm… yeah, let’s go home and get naked,” she said, pressing herself against her husband.

  “Woman, it’s a good thing I love you,” her husband said in an exasperated tone and nibbled on her earlobe, causing Kennedy to giggle again.

  “All right, all right. Take her out of here, man,” Lincoln said with a laugh. “She doesn’t want to hear about my sex life I don’t want to have to see hers!” Everyone around us laughed.

  Good-byes were exchanged and the party sprang back to life moments after they left with another round of shots being passed between friends. I looked around and figured this would be a good time to make a break for it without drawing attention to myself. I was stretching my neck to see what would be the best path toward the exit when Lincoln said my name. I focused my attention on him and tried to keep my emotions from showing on my face.

  “I was just looking for the bathroom,” I said in a preemptive move to stop him from saying anything. I didn’t need his words. I just wanted to leave.

  “Oh. They’re right over there. I’ll take you.” His voice was full of concern, as if he could tell I was thinking about leaving. I nodded and allowed him to escort me to the ladies’ room. “I’ll wait for you here,” he told me. I left him standing at the entrance and walked into the restroom while rolling my eyes at this man who did not seem to want to let me go but hadn’t seemed to want to kiss me either. I needed to get away from the feelings I had while around him, mainly feeling like an idiot. Of course the awesome, sexy, celebrity, rich, hockey player Lincoln Monaghan doesn’t want anything to do with me.

  I sighed and gave myself a mental kick. I was stupid to have let it go this far. Even if he was interested in me on the outside, there was no way we could ever have a relationship. Gah! I mentally kicked myself again. Relationship? What are you even thinking, Jillian?? This was exactly why I needed to get away from him. I was spinning crazy scenarios in my mind and needed to stop. This was ridiculous. He bought me one drink, and I was overthinking things.

  I looked around the bar bathroom and tried to come up with a new plan. I wondered how ridiculous it would be if I attempted to shimmy out the bathroom window. Maybe I could just slip away from him in the crowd. I rolled my eyes again, this time at myself. I was an adult, for Christ's sake. Just go out there and tell him good-bye and leave, I told myself, trying to give a pep talk. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open a crack to peer out. Lincoln was standing several feet away talking to a couple of guys I didn’t recognize from our group. One of the men shoved a hat and a marker toward Lincoln in what looked like an attempt to get an autograph. Ah, perfect, I thought. Hopefully these fans would keep him distracted. I slipped out of the bathroom and almost ran into Lincoln’s friend Deacon who was coming out of the men’s room.

  “Hey, Jillian. Having fun?” Deacon asked me with a friendly smile.

  “Um, yeah, but I actually have to get going. Could you do me a favor?” I asked sweetly.

  “You’re going? Does Linc know?” Deacon asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Oh yeah. We said good-bye already. I just forgot to return his scarf to him. Could you give it to him for me?” I said, totally lying while trying to keep the sadness out of my voice.

  “Sure. No problem,” he answered taking the scarf from me. “But tell me honestly. Does he know you’re leaving?”

  I debated telling him and wondered why it mattered to him. “No. He doesn’t. Can you please just give him the scarf?” I tried not to beg. I desperately wanted to get out of there and hoped Deacon’s loyalty to Lincoln wouldn’t make him feel compelled to call Lincoln’s attention this way while I was still standing here.

  “How are you getting home?” Deacon asked.

  “My car is in a ramp close by,” I answered.

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  I snorted. “Like one sip. I’m fine. Really. I just have to go. Just give Lincoln the scarf and tell him thanks, please.” Deacon scanned my face once more and nodded and stepped aside. “Thank you,” I said and, seeing an opening in the crowd, made my way to the exit as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself. It was surprisingly easy, considering the number of people in the bar. I hoped there were still plenty of people on the street. I could blend in with the masses of people out and about tonight. I didn’t know if Lincoln would chase after me, but I doubted he would look too hard.

  As I passed through the door to go outside, I took one look back in Lincoln’s direction. He was holding the scarf in his hand, looking down at it. His face was a mix of sadness and anger, and Deacon clapped his hand on Lincoln’s back. I nodded to myself and walked out of the bar and back to my ho-hum life. I sighed as I was swallowed up by the crowd on the street. Fireworks were still exploding in the sky over the pier, and I smiled as I watched them while walking to my car. Despite however awkward and uncomfortable Lincoln made me feel tonight, this was still the best New Yea'rs Eve I'd ever had.

  When I got back to my sister’s house, there wasn’t anyone home. That didn’t surprise me, and I was fine with it. I wanted to be alone and didn’t want my sister, Rebecca, asking about my evening just yet. I knew I would have to share details sooner rather than later, but I was glad I could hold off until the morning. My six-year-old niece, Tabitha, was at a sleepover with classmates, and since Rebecca had the night off without her child, she was out celebrating with friends. She wouldn’t be home until late.

  I crawled in to bed and let my mind drift. In an alternate universe, I might have let myself hope that Lincoln was interested in me. I imagined he would have kissed me deeply at midnight and maybe several more times that night. I wouldn’t have left the bar alone, and Lincoln would have walked me to my car at the end of the night. We would have exchanged phone numbers before Lincoln pushed me up against the car and ravished my mouth with his. I would have felt the hard lines of his muscles under his shirt, and I wouldn’t have been ashamed of the ugliness of my body. But there was no reason to hope for any of that. It would never happen. This is how my life was. I was going to be alone, and there was no hope for anything else. I wasn’t going to cry over it. I refused to let myself cry over something I never had.

  I still had a happy life. I loved my family, and I would buckle down and focus extra hard on my internship and research to keep my mind off the despair that threatened to creep in. I would not dwell on things that I couldn’t have. But that night I fell asleep with a smile on my face remembering how warm Lincoln’s hand felt around mine.

  Chapter Four

  My dreams consisted of flashing lights and glowing lobsters and I woke up early in the morning to my niece jumping on me.

  “Wake up, Aunt Jilly Bean!” Tabitha shouted at me.

  “Mmm… Tabby Cat, it’s too early,” I mumbled as Tabitha kept jumping on me.

  “It’s not early, Jilly! I’ve been awake for hours!” Tabitha announced. How did she have that much energy?

  “I don’t doubt that, Tabby Cat,” I sat up in bed since it was clear Tabitha was not going to let me sleep any longer. I subconsciously adjusted my tank top and pajama bottoms to make sure no skin was showing. “Tell me about your sleepover.”

  “It was so much fun, Jilly! We played games and watched a movie, and I had three different kinds of soda mixed together, and we ate pizza, and Hannah’s mommy let us try on her lipstick!” she said going a mile a minute.

  “Wow. That does sound fun.” They must have stayed up all night. She was going to be a tired and crabby kid when she came down from her high. “Did you show Mommy your lipstick when she picked you up?”

  “Mommy didn’t pick me up,” she said as she continued to bounce on my bed.

  “What?” I reached for my glasses and put them on.

  “Mommy texte
d Hannah’s mommy and asked if she could bring me home 'cause she wasn’t feeling well. Hannah’s mommy said something about being hung up?” Tabitha looked confused. Hung-over. Rebecca was hung-over and couldn’t pick up her daughter. I was annoyed with my sister for being slightly irresponsible but figured it didn’t matter much if Hannah’s mom didn’t mind.

  “Ugh. Tabby Cat, is Mommy awake?” I asked.

  “Yes, she must be feeling better 'cause she’s making us waffles with sprinkles!” Tabitha announced with a big smile, which caused me to smile in return. Sprinkles solved everything. Tabitha jumped off the bed and ran to the bedroom door. “Oh! And there’s a man here!” she announced. I gasped and scrambled out of bed after Tabitha. I grabbed her arm and squatted down to the kid’s-eye level.

  “What did you say?” I asked, trying not to sound too upset. I didn’t want to scare her.

  “There’s a man here! And guess what? He said waffles are his favorite too!” Tabitha announced and ducked out the door. I stood up in utter shock. Rebecca had brought a man home! That was very unlike her! I didn’t really care, other than the fact that he was still here when Tabitha got home! Rebecca ought to know better. What would Tabitha think? What would Rebecca say when Tabitha started asking questions?! And why was this man still here?! The thought of Tabitha downstairs with basically a complete stranger who was only here because he had boinked Rebecca made my skin crawl. Adrenalin surged through me, and I quickly pulled my hair into a messy ponytail and grabbed my robe but didn’t take the time to tie it closed.

  I flew downstairs, across the living room and down the hallway into the kitchen. Tabitha was sitting on a stool at the island counter, eating a waffle. Rebecca was dressed in pajamas as well, but it looked like she had showered, at least. She was mixing batter in a big bowl next to the waffle iron. But the man who sat at the end of the island counter was who held my attention and made me stop short. My jaw dropped as he shoveled a giant piece of waffles into his mouth and smirked at me.

  “Waffles?” Lincoln asked after he swallowed his last bite.

  I was flabbergasted. How had he found me? I turned to look at Rebecca for an explanation, but Rebecca was busying herself with breakfast making while trying to hide the huge grin on her face. “What is he doing here?” I asked Rebecca, who held her hands up in a defensive move.

  Lincoln set down his fork. "‘He’ wanted to talk to you,” he answered before Rebecca could. “And ‘he’ was ditched at the bar last night. So ‘he’ only had one option.”

  “To stalk me?” I shrieked. A flash of guilt crossed Lincoln’s face. “How did you find where I live?” I asked.

  “Your boss gave your name to the security company. I asked them for your last name, and the rest is public information. Simple enough.” Lincoln shrugged. “And I don’t think it qualifies as stalking until there are repeated incidents,” he added with a smirk.

  “Aunt Jilly, sit down and have a waffle!” Tabitha said to me.

  “Yeah, Jilly. Sit down and have a waffle,” Lincoln said, using Tabitha’s nickname for me while patting the stool next to him. I narrowed my eyes at him and pulled my robe closed. How dare he? I had no idea what to say. Why in the world was he here?

  “I’m suddenly not very hungry,” I said and turned around to retreat to my bedroom to hide. I was beyond embarrassed. My hair had the just-crawled-out-of-bed-look and I knew it was not flattering. Not only that, but I had left this man at the bar last night. If that wasn't a clear indication of my wishes I didn’t know what was.

  “Jillian…” Lincoln called after me as I walked away down the hall, all humor gone from his voice.

  I escaped upstairs to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I started pacing the length of my bedroom. How long had he been here? Why did Rebecca just let some strange man into our house? Just because he claimed to know me? And I didn’t care what Lincoln said; I considered what he did to find me stalking. But why on earth would he stalk me?

  I remembered the way he held my hand last night and the way he stared down at me. I had wanted the passion in his eyes to be real, but he hadn’t kissed me. His only actions last night were ones of trying to apologize for ruining my coat.

  I stopped pacing. That must be why he was here. He still felt as if he needed to remedy the situation with my coat. I felt ridiculous again. Why did this man always make me feel so idiotic? Probably because I didn’t have a lot of interaction with men as gorgeous as him. I sighed as I realized I was the one to blame in this situation for feeling foolish. It was my stupid, incorrect reactions to everything he said.

  A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my musings. “Jill? Can I come in?” It was Rebecca. I walked to the door and opened it.

  “Is he gone?” I asked.

  “Sort of. He said he’d run to the coffee shop and be back in fifteen minutes. And you’re supposed to be ready to go.” Rebecca informed me. There was a cozy coffeehouse just around the corner I loved to go to on cold or rainy days.

  “Go? Go where? I’m not going anywhere with him. And why did you let him in our house in the first place? You just let any strange man inside with Tabby here?” I let my ire fly. I was mad at this whole situation, and right now Rebecca was the one to blame.

  “Okay. Jillian. Stop. Breathe. Calm down," Rebecca said grabbing my shoulders and giving me a small shake. “First off, of course I wouldn’t just let just any strange man inside. That isn’t a strange man. That’s Lincoln-freaking-Monaghan. You know that, right?” Leave it to Rebecca to know the man right off the bat when I hadn’t. It made me even angrier.

  “Of course I know who he is!” I exclaimed and pulled out of Rebecca’s grasp. “That doesn’t change anything! Why did you let him in?!”

  “Hey. I said calm down. He’s just a guy. He said he met you at the parade but lost track of you last night afterward and wanted to see you again.”

  “That doesn’t sound weird to you, Becca?? Like, did you ever think maybe I didn’t want to see him again?!”

  “Why wouldn’t you want to see him again?” Rebecca asked, dumbfounded. “I think you forgot about the part where LINCOLN-FREAKING-MONAGHAN wants to see you.”

  “Ugh. Becca. You’re being ridiculous.” I was so frustrated. “The only reason he is here is because he spilled hot chocolate all over my coat last night and feels he owes me.”

  “Or… maybe that’s just his excuse,” Rebecca countered. “Maybe he really is interested in you.”

  “Becca… you know it doesn’t even matter,” I said sadly and crossed my arms withdrawing from Rebecca and any comfort she may offer.

  “Hey…” Rebecca started reaching out to rub my arm. “Where’s my Jilly Bean who always sees the positive in everything? Hmm? Is it so hard to believe he’s interested in you?” She hadn’t been there last night, though. He hadn’t kissed me at midnight.

  “He’s not. But even if he were, it wouldn’t matter. I can’t be involved with him or anyone,” I said firmly.

  “Why not?” Rebecca asked bluntly. I couldn’t find the words to answer her. No one understood how I felt about my scars. They repeatedly told me in therapy not to allow my scars to label me or to overshadow my life. But how could I not when my scars were all I could see when I stood naked in front of a mirror? They were ugly and visceral, and I hated them.

  I subconsciously moved a hand to the side of my midriff. Rebecca noticed the small movement, and her eyes filled with sympathy. “I thought you were better,” Rebecca said plainly. I didn’t answer her. I hated talking about this. If I didn’t talk about it, I could ignore the fact I was abnormal and would never be loved. “Jillian. If you honestly think those scars are going to keep someone from wanting to know you, then you don’t see yourself clearly. I love you despite your scars and what they mean.”

  “That’s different,” I said quietly. “You have to love me; you’re my sister.” I knew my family struggled themselves with their own guilt over what happened that horrible day.

  “Yes, I am
," Rebecca said. “And I know you better than anyone. I know all that shit that happened in college hurt you. I know you don’t let anyone close to you except us, your family, because of it. But that was ages ago, Jilly. And if you would just let people get to know you, they would discover what we already know. As cheesy as it sounds, you are beautiful inside and out. I don’t know a sweeter person. You’re generous and have such a positive attitude about everything and everybody except yourself. Why are you so hard on yourself? Stop listening to that negative voice inside your head, okay?” Rebecca was in big sister mode now. She stroked my arm with the back of her hand, but I flinched away stubbornly. “You got handed a shitty deal, and then those people in college made it worse. But you aren’t a freshman in college anymore, Jilly Bean. Maybe it’s time to let someone in again. And I think Lincoln is the perfect place to start. He seems nice.”

  “They all seem nice to begin with, Becca,” I said bitterly.

  Click here to continue reading Jenni Wilder’s All of You, available for purchase in the Kindle store.