Fallacy (Apprehensive Duet Book 1)

by Bracco, Kimberly

  “Yeah, it’s Alex,” I reply, not sure why she’s asking.

  “Can I talk to him, please?” she asks extending her hand for the phone.

  I hand the phone over and listen as she asks Alex a bunch of questions about the foundation and for Melissa’s address.

  She hands me back the phone and says, “Thank you for pulling my head out of my ass.” Then she hugs me and leaves.

  “Holy shit,” I gasp as I raise the phone to my ear.

  “Whatever you did worked, angel.” I can hear his smile through the phone.

  “I can’t believe what just happened,” I admit, still shocked.

  “She seemed to wake up and see the light, so it had to be something she needed to hear to give her the final push.”

  “Thank you,” I say when I feel the weight lift off my chest. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

  “I didn’t do anything I wouldn’t normally do,” he argues.

  I know he’s just trying to make light of his support through this, but it was more than that. He showed me true friendship and commitment. One thing I’ve learned from this shitty experience is that Alex cares about me regardless of sex. He never pushed me for sex when it started to dwindle. He’s never pushed me ever. He still calls. We still talk. We still hang out. He’s showing me he cares about me as a person. I’m not just a warm body for him to fill. And it freaks me the fuck out because I think it’s the shove my brain needed to fully give in to this with Alex.

  Alex

  I WATCH ASHLEY do her final reps of the day, and I can’t help but smile. She’s worked hard these last few months to get here.

  I’ve seen a real drive in her to get herself better in the last four months since she and Tanner worked things out. She’s an entirely different person than she was. I’m thrilled to have been able to help her through her healing.

  We’ve been meeting twice a week working on getting her body back into the best possible shape it can be after the accident. If you didn’t know her or weren’t able to the see the scars, it would be very hard to know she’d had a major knee injury or a barely functioning arm.

  This is the best part of my job, regardless if it’s an athlete or your average person. Watching someone hit their goals and push themselves to get better is an incredible journey to witness. I see Quinn and Tanner standing in the doorway of Tanner’s home gym, waiting for me to acknowledge if today is the day. It’s been no secret Ash’s rehab is practically finished. She’s been pushing and pushing, and after seeing her today, I know she’s done. She doesn’t need any more help. She’s as close as she’s going to get to being back to her pre-accident mobility and strength.

  “How do you feel?” I ask her as she finishes up her squats. Her squat reps started small in the beginning, and at first, she struggled to get through five, but with the right frame of mind and the right coaching, she just finished three sets of twenty. It takes an incredible amount of strength in your thighs and knees to do that many.

  “I feel great,” she smiles, a sheen of sweat covering her face, shoulders, and chest. It’s a question I’ve asked her after every workout. Ashley had been using a different PT at the beginning of her rehab, but when I saw her sitting at home icing her knee and requiring pain meds after a session, I knew they were doing something wrong.

  I see Tanner and Quinn enter the room, but Ash hasn’t noticed them yet. “Guess what?” I say.

  “What?” she asks, grabbing a towel off of the workout bench to wipe away the sweat.

  “You’re done,” I grin. “You don’t need me anymore. Your rehab is complete at this point.”

  “Congratulations!” Quinn and Tanner yell from behind her, shocking the hell out of her.

  “Really?!” she shrieks. “You think I’m good to go?”

  “Yup,” I nod. “You need to keep going to the gym at least once a week to keep all the muscle strength you’ve built up, but as far as needing me, you don’t.”

  I watch as Tanner wraps his arms around her and swings her around. He whispers something in her ear which causes her to blush, and we all laugh knowing it was something dirty.

  It’s another thing that came out of this whole mess. Everyone in this room has formed a real bond. Tanner and Quinn bonded over collaborating to take care of Ashley while Ashley and I became closer too. We crushed her rehab together, building the required level of trust and understanding that comes with that. I got to see a side of Ash I hadn’t seen, and the same can be said for her about me. The four of us have forged a strong connection.

  “That’s not the only good news to celebrate today,” Quinn informs us with a smile.

  “Oh yeah?” Ashley asks, turning in Tanner’s arms. It’s nice to see them interacting normally again. Quinn had taken a ton of grief and abuse from Ashley. It was very hard for me to sit back and watch. It wasn’t my place to interfere with the way she dealt with Ashley, and it broke my heart to see Quinn so torn up day after day. When she finally laid everything out on the table about the way Ashley has been acting there was a noticed change in Quinn.

  It never mattered to me she wasn’t herself while helping Ashley, but I’m glad she’s back. Her confidence was missing most of the time. She beat herself up a lot thinking she wasn’t doing enough for her friend.

  I adored and admired her drive for helping Ashley even when she didn't always want Quinn's help. I got to see just how hard she loves, how much she cares, and how determined she can be. I didn’t mind in the least that we had been put on the back burner. If anything, I think it has made me more drawn to her. It made our emotional connection just as strong as our physical connection.

  But I can’t say I don’t like seeing her smile as she is right now. I can’t say I don’t like the light back in her eyes. Her carefree attitude has come back, and she’s back to the girl I initially fell for, but with a lot more depth.

  “My father informed me Gerald is retiring in June. My name is being added to the list of new vice president candidates.” Her grin is infectious.

  “Finally,” Ash beams.

  “That’s fantastic news, Quinn,” Tanner congratulates her.

  “I’m so proud of you, angel,” I exclaim, wrapping her in a huge hug. “I knew you’d be able to get him to notice your worth.”

  “Yeah, it is nice to finally get some recognition,” she agrees. “It’s nice to feel good, to feel validated for once.”

  “Let’s go back to my place and have a celebration of our own,” I whisper into her ear.

  That gets her ass moving.

  “I really am proud of you, angel. I know how much shit you take at work from your dad. What’s the deal with you guys anyway?” I ask on our way to my house. I don’t understand where all this contention between them comes from.

  “Growing up, I did everything my father asked of me. I got good grades. Joined all the necessary clubs. I was in the fucking student government for fuck’s sake. When I found out what a total scumbag the man is, I tried to do anything I could to get away from him. He went to an Ivy League school and wanted me to go to one too, didn’t matter which one. I went to Ramapo. He wanted me to take one major, I took another,” she begins to explain.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Based on what you’ve told me about him, I doubt he took it well.”

  “He didn’t,” she confirms. “He threw a shit-fit my sophomore year demanding I change my major to finance.”

  “What made you change it?” I ask, wondering why she gave in to his demands.

  “It was Ashley who helped change my mind,” she says. “She helped me realize changing my major wasn’t just to please him but myself as well. I’ve always loved numbers but lost a little of that love when my fantasy world imploded. Ashley pointed out changing majors would make me ten times happier. I dreaded half of the required courses that were mandatory for art history. If I switched, I’d be taking classes I enjoyed and excelled in. She was right. My junior and senior
years were so much better. Plus, I didn’t have him breathing down my neck every other day to live up to the family name. Classes were much easier and more interesting. I spent less time stressing and more time enjoying my college years.”

  I’m very intrigued by her reference to her fantasy world, but I decide not to press my luck any farther tonight. This is the most Quinn has spoken to me about her father, and tonight is a good night. I don’t want to spoil her excitement by continuing to talk about him. I’ll have to wait for another opportunity to ask that question. “Well, I’m positive you’ll nail this promotion. It’s the next step for you. You’ll have your name on his door before you know it.”

  I can tell by the smile forming on her face that was just what she wanted to hear.

  Quinn

  I HATE AIRPORTS. Not the flying itself, just the airports. I hate them even more when I’m flying alone. You have to be here hours earlier than your flight, and after you’re done being security raped, you just sit around and wait for your plane to start boarding. It’s annoying. It’s crowded. It’s so damn loud.

  I can't even text Ashley or Alex. It’s two o’clock on a Sunday. She’s at the field for the game, and I’ve learned it’s useless to try and have a conversation with her while she’s watching Tanner play. It also means Alex is busy too. I don’t have anyone else who would care about the big news I got at these meetings, and I’ve already bought a new pair of shoes while I wait. There’s nothing else to do really to pass the time until my flight boards in about forty minutes.

  There’s a flash of green on the TV in the waiting area of the gate … a football game. I focus on it for a minute to see if it’s the Jets. At least I can burn time by watching the game, but then I notice it's just highlights and the score pops up on the screen, and it says final. Final? The game only started an hour ago. Then I realize I’m in California. It's five o’clock at home.

  I swipe my phone and pull up Alex’s number, hoping to maybe catch in between his post-game stuff.

  It doesn’t take long for him to answer. “Hey,” I greet him finally happy to have someone to talk to.

  I immediately know now is not the time to share my good news. His voice is distraught and downtrodden as he says, “Hey, angel.” He sighs. Alex is a very happy-go-lucky person for the most part, and I haven’t seen him upset except for when Daniel passed away.

  “What’s wrong? You sound off,” I ask. My mind starts to spin, thinking back, wondering if I forgot something or if I did something to piss him off. Is today the anniversary of his mom’s death? What?

  “Nothing. It's just been a long day. I'm all right,” he replies before changing the subject. “How were your meetings? You back home yet?”

  The sound of his unhappiness does something to me inside. I don’t like it. I answer his questions still trying to figure out if I’ve done something wrong or what could’ve happened to upset him. I just downplay it for now. “My meetings were as expected. I’m at the airport now.” I made this trip to meet with some venture capitalists out here. A great idea dropped into my lap at work last week. I’m almost positive this company’s new biotech will be huge, but I want to scope out what’s going on on this coast before presenting the plan to my father. I know he’s going to ask me if I did my homework and I want to be able to shove it in his face that I have.

  I met with a few different colleagues I have here over lunch the last two days and subtly probed to see what they were working with. I don’t think any of them have anything close to what I have, so it’s good to go on this one. Well, at least from my perspective, but daddy dearest will have the final say. I swear if he passes this one over, I may kill someone.

  “What time does your flight leave?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts of murdering my own father.

  “It’s supposed to take off in about half an hour. What’s going on with you? Still at the field?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m about to head to a meeting, though. We have some things to discuss regarding some of the guys,” he sighs heavily into the phone. I can tell he’s not fine. There’s this feeling in my chest I don’t know how to describe at hearing him this way.

  “You sure you’re okay, babe? You don’t sound fine to me,” I ask again, hoping he’ll open up a little. I know how hard it is to open up to people, but I’ve always found it super easy to talk to Alex. He listens, doesn’t judge, and gives me his theory on things, even if it doesn’t coincide with my opinion. I want him to feel the same about talking to me.

  “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” he assures me with what seems like forced casualness in his voice.

  “What are your plans for later?” I ask as an idea pops into my head. I can head to his place from the airport if he’s going home after. I would assume so. But what the hell do I know? It could’ve been a bad game, and maybe the team is going out for drinks or something after. It’s what people in the office do after a bad day at work. Maybe pro teams do the same thing.

  “I’m heading home. What time do you land? I always hate coming back home after being on the West Coast. The time difference kills me every time,” he laughs. At least it doesn’t seem forced now.

  “Yeah, it does suck,” I agree with him. Then my flight is called. “But listen, they’re calling my flight to board so I’ll text you when I get back home.”

  “Okay, angel. Have a safe flight,” he says before ending the call.

  I scoop up my purse and head toward the agent checking tickets at the gate. I hand my first class ticket to the attendant who smiles at me while waving me into the tunnel.

  By the time I’ve buckled my seat belt, I have a plan in place. I’m going to head straight to his place. I'll stop at the liquor store on the way to his house and then grab a pizza. I’ll be the one to comfort him for once.

  Alex has always been the one to be there for me when I have a bad day. And there have been plenty of them. It's one of the things I like most about Alex. He’s not like most guys who don’t want to talk to you when you’re in a shitty mood. They run at the first mention of PMS. And forget shark week.

  Not Alex, though. He wants to make my days better; he even asks if I want ice cream when I’m cranky. It's rare he needs some support. I’d like to be the one to hold him up for a bit.

  I place an order for Alex’s favorite pizza, mushroom and pepperoni, as I make my way to the liquor store, and then I’ll stop to pick it up before heading to Alex’s. I don’t want to have it delivered and make it there before me.

  After making all the stops, I head inside Alex’s brick apartment building and head toward the stairs. The elevator in this building is old as hell and slower than my grandmother. Alex only lives on the third floor, so I don’t bother with the elevator.

  I knock and try the door when I get to his apartment. He doesn’t always lock his door when he’s home. Finding the door open, I head inside and call out, “Hey, babe. I come bearing gifts.”

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, coming out of his bedroom, a towel around his waist and a shocked look on his face.

  Closing the door behind me, I smile. “You sounded like you needed a friend tonight.” I lift up the box in my hand as an offering.

  A genuine smile now replaces the look of surprise, and he charges forward and pulls me into his arms to kiss me. “That was very sweet of you, angel. I could use a slice of pizza and a beer right now.”

  “Put some clothes on then or no eating will get done,” I smirk at him glancing down at his towel.

  “Eating would get done, just not of the food,” he chuckles as he turns and heads back into his bedroom.

  Heading for the kitchen, I place the pizza and case of beer on the counter. I open the cabinets to grab some plates and pull two beers from the twelve-pack I brought and reach for the bottle opener magnet Alex keeps on his refrigerator.

  Just as I’m grabbing the plates of pizza to head into the living room, Alex joins me in the kitchen. “Can you grab our beers?” I ask as I pass him.


  “Sure.”

  We sit on the couch not talking, just eating our pizza and drinking beer. I can tell just by looking at him something is still bothering him. I’ll give him until he’s finished his first slice before I ask. I want to give him a little time to unwind in his own space before asking him to talk.

  I watch as he finishes his beer and then the rest of his pizza. “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask softly, placing my hand on his arm.

  “What?” he asks, shaking his head as if to expel the haze he was just in. “I’m sorry. Nothing. It’s just been a bad day.”

  “Hey,” I say as I lean forward to place my plate on the coffee table. I turn my body toward his and scoot a little closer to him. “Something’s bothering you. Talk to me about it.”

  Sighing, he softly tells me, “I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.”

  “Alex,” I rebuke. “You don't weigh me down by talking to me. That’s what I’m here for. You’re always there listening to me and all my problems; why can’t I do the same for you? I want to be the one you lean on for once.”

  I shock myself when the words leave my mouth in the form a plea. I think I shock Alex too. A small smile flickers over his lips before he starts talking.

  “One of our rookies has a high-ankle sprain and he refuses to listen to us. He's completely reckless.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask. I think football, in general, is pretty wild. You’re willingly playing a game when your body is getting banged up constantly.

  “He’s on a mission to break the rookie receiving record. This kid’s amazing. I mean, he’s really fucking good. He’s always doing the impossible. One-handed catches, breaking tackles, laying out for passes no one else will. He and Tanner are leading the league in touchdown completions. Last week, he was rolled up in a tackle and that’s how he got hurt. We all told him he needs to take it easy for the next few weeks and let it heal up, but he doesn’t seem to care. He jumped for a ball today in the end-zone when he should’ve let it go.” He shakes his head as if he’s replaying it in his mind. “It was high and thrown into double coverage. He wanted the touchdown. He doesn’t seem to understand that trying to make those plays when the team doesn’t really need them is going to get him hurt. He’s lucky neither of the defenders rolled his ankle again.”