“I told you.” Brent’s voice cradles my soul.
“You told me what?”
“That I would always come for you.”
I close my eyes. “How do you know where to find me?”
“Finding you is easy.” His lips graze the shell of my ear. “Because that’s where I find me.”
The water laps near our feet, and I melt into him completely. We’re finally one with absolutely no barriers at all.
~~~*~~~
The alarm on my phone gently alerts me that it’s time to get up. My hand clumsily grabs it from the space next to me on the bed. Groggy, I silence the tone and then place it on the nearby table.
In a very lazy and autopilot-like fashion, I toss Brent’s shirt into the laundry basket, and then shower. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, my hand brushes the raised, uneven skin on my left arm, evidence of a past pain. Nothing mends perfectly, and the scars are reminders. I barely notice it anymore, but it still causes my gut to flip. Not lingering too long on that thought, I hurriedly get dressed.
The sun has yet to rise as I slip on my jacket and pull my schoolbag over my shoulder, heavy with my laptop and books. Tugging the beanie hat over my ears, I go to the bedside table to get my phone. Quickly checking the time to make sure I’m not running late, I discover a text message from Brent. Opening it up, I immediately acknowledge the hour it was sent, around two this morning while I was sleeping. I must have been so exhausted that I never even heard the alert.
Brent: Change of plans. We lost, and the season is over. I’ll come to you. We’ll talk tomorrow. Hope you are sleeping well.
A guilty joy develops as I read the words a few more times. His season is over, and that means we can see each other without a forty-eight hour expiration. We can be together. It’s all I want.
I tuck the phone into my coat pocket and open the door. I need to get on the train soon, so I don’t miss my class. Entering the hallway, I turn the dead bolt and then walk to the end of the hall before quickly descending the steps. At the first landing, my shoulder brushes with another tenant on the way up as I hurry to exit the building.
“Whoa,” he says, grabbing around my waist.
My head snaps, meeting a pair of bright, magnetic eyes and a mischievous grin.
The world stops like a dream, but this isn’t a dream.
This is real. Fatigue echoes underneath his radiating joy.
“What are you…how?”
“I couldn’t wait.” Brent’s face relaxes, and he wraps his other arm behind my back, pressing our bodies flush together, our winter coats touching. “I hope you don’t mind.”
THIRTEEN
Just past three in the afternoon, I ride aboard the train back to my apartment. My stop is getting close, so I stand to wait near the doors.
Surrealism has encompassed my day, which has gone by in much of a blur. Brent’s arrival this morning was beyond unexpected and more than surprising, but I still had commitments to attend to.
After the initial shock set in and we held each other briefly, I needed to be on my way. I walked him to my apartment, listening to him tell me about his rash decision to catch the red-eye flight the moment the game ended. He rushed home, packed a few things, and barely got on the plane in time for it to take off. Once he appeared to be settled and he assured me he would be fine, I gave him a key and told him to make himself at home and that I would be back as soon as possible.
Thoughts of skipping my classes crossed my mind, but I couldn’t with the quarter quickly coming to a close, and I had a paper due. The day went by slowly as I counted every minute in a daze, still in shock that he was here and waiting for me at my house.
Our time apart is over.
The train slows, my stop is announced, and the doors open just as the car comes to a rest. With an energetic step, I exit onto the platform and descend the stairs to the sidewalk below. I only have to walk six blocks, and I am home in so many ways.
About a block away from the station, my phone rings in my pocket. Excitedly, I grab it, thinking it’s Brent, only to be disappointed by Cody’s name and image flashing on the screen. Sighing, I answer the call, knowing a conversation will have to happen soon anyhow. I’m supposed to be driving to his house in a few days.
“Hi, Cody,” I say, slowing my pace to hear him better. “What’s up?”
“Well, nice to talk to you, too,” he jokes. “So much for niceties.”
“Oh, come on,” I tease. “Are we going to start being nice to each other now?”
“Hey, I’m always nice.”
“Okay, if you say so.” I turn off the main thoroughfare filled with many passing cars and onto a quieter side street. “So, what’s up?” I ask again, completely avoiding the impending conversation.
“Shauna wants to know if you want to bring a dessert or an appetizer and if you are coming up on Wednesday night.”
“Actually…” This is it. “I don’t think I’m going to come at all.”
“And why not? What do you have going on that’s so important on Thanksgiving?”
It’s a fair question since my life has been pretty boring and predictable for the last few years.
“Well, I kind of have company,” I say, skirting around the full truth, “from out of town.”
“Oh, well, bring them along, too. We have room.”
The answer of, No, is my first instinct. There’s no way I’m subjecting myself to the torture of us all being in the same room…yet.
“I think we’re just going to stay here. I don’t want to put you guys out.”
“Don’t be like that. You won’t be putting us out at all. Who is it by the way? A friend from Florida?”
“No,” I hesitate, “not Florida. Someone from back home.”
“Your friend Lexi?”
“No.” I reach the end of the block, stopping for the rest of the conversation. “It’s Brent.”
Silence.
It’s heavy, intentional, and full-of-judgment silence.
“Cody?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right. Did you say Brent? As in Cromwell?”
“Yes, of course. I don’t know any others.”
Silence.
I don’t even hear his breaths.
A couple walks hand in hand at the park across the street, traveling the length of six cars parked along the side of the road, as I wait and listen to nothing on the other line. Cody’s quiet is more frightening than his moments of rage.
“He’s here in town,” I say tentatively, “and I’m going to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
A long sound of air enters through the phone as Cody takes a calming breath.
“Why didn’t you just tell me before?” he questions.
He’s trying to be reasonable. We’ve both come a long way.
“I didn’t know he was coming, I just found out this morning.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you seeing him? Or is he just here to get in your pants?”
That hurts. It hurts badly.
“That’s none of your business,” I reply defensively, continuing toward my building. “But if you must know, I’m seeing him. Okay?”
“And you’re just now telling me?” He’s flabbergasted.
“We literally just decided to spend the holiday together last night. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not talking about Thanksgiving. I’m talking about him. How long have you been seeing him?”
“About a month.” Might as well give it all to him. “I went out to L.A. a few weeks ago, too.”
“Wait.” Cody exerts a few tongue-tying sounds, not making any sense at all. “What the hell? Now, you’re taking secret trips across the country?”
I don’t know how to respond. He’s got me there. At the time, I wanted to keep what was happening with Brent and me a private thing since I wasn’t sure where it would lead, but in retrospect, traveli
ng two thousand miles and not telling anyone is a big deal.
“What are you?” he continues. “Are you ashamed or something?”
“No. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I just didn’t want to deal with the shit I knew you would hand out—like you’re doing now.”
“Hell yeah, I’m giving you shit. Do you need a reminder of what happened? ’Cause I’m happy to recap it for you. That fucker left you, and I had to pick up the pieces. Shit, Ruby! How could you even forgive him for what he did?”
“Because there’s nothing to forgive. He didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”
“You must be blind. You want to go through that again? Back there?”
“I’m not going back there,” I tell him through tight lips. “That was a long time ago. I’ve paid my dues, too.”
“It’s not about paying dues, and you know it.”
“Stop, Cody. Fucking. Let! It! Go!” My voice rises. “He’s suffered, too, and it’s my life. I’ll do what I want, so stay the fuck out of it.”
“Fine,” he snarls. “When you hit bottom again, don’t think I’ll be looking for you.”
“I don’t want you to.” I’m about a block from my building and so full of rage. I fucking hate Cody right now, and this conversation needs to end. “I’m hanging up. Tell Shauna I’m sorry. I’ll call you later once you get your head out of your ass and want to talk like a grown-up instead of some overprotective asshole. You’re not my father.”
“Yeah, it’s a good thing I’m not, or you’d still be on your ass in some ditch in Florida.”
“Look who’s talking,” I bite back. “You’re no angel, you know. And he was your friend. I never would have gone down and stayed with him if you two weren’t so close. Thanks for the introduction. So, maybe Florida is your fault. Ever think of that?”
“Oh, shut up, and go fuck the asshole who can’t handle it when things get tough. I hope Brent leaves you on your ass once and for all, so you can finally realize he’s just a pussy.”
“Fuck you.” I end the call, hanging up on him, not wanting to fuel the conversation any further.
Furious, I lean against a nearby tree to calm myself. Defending Brent against Cody’s interpretation of events is impossible.
Cody does care and is just looking out for me, but his tact certainly hasn’t gotten much better over time. He obviously still blames Brent for too much, which I will never understand. He and Mara are the only ones who know what really happened between Brent and me, and for some odd reason, both of them only blame him. What they don’t understand is that no one’s to blame. It was just a shitty hand, and afterwards everything fell apart.
Maybe I’ve come to terms with that more than anyone because it was the only way to move on with my life. That time after, with me alone and then in Florida, wasn’t pretty. Cody saw me at my worst, but that wasn’t Brent’s fault. That was my own stupidity. It was a circumstantial spiral in which being saved wasn’t really an option. You can’t save someone until the person wants to see the light, and I was content with shuffling through the dark. It was easy.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I leisurely walk the last block to my place, getting into a better headspace, calming my anger, before entering the building. I won’t let my dispute with Cody or his views sway me in any way.
I walk up the familiar red-carpeted steps, unlock the door to my apartment, and head inside. Turning the corner around the small entryway, I find Brent sitting on my bed, and all my anger and frustration is taken away. He’s here, and so am I. Being together is what’s important. It’s what matters to me.
“Hi.” His voice puts me even more at ease. “How was class?” he asks, swinging his legs off the bed.
“It was okay. The day went by so slow.” I drop my bag to the floor and then sit next to him on the bed. “How was your day?”
“Lonely.”
“And now?”
He takes my hand. “Perfect.”
FOURTEEN
Brent leans in, kissing me softly, in a greeting-type fashion. It’s such a normal and comfortable gesture, easy and familiar, like he’s been doing it for years. He waits expectantly, and I giggle, not sure what to do now that he’s here, on my bed in my apartment. I’m still trying to grasp the surrealism of it all.
“So,” Brent says, his fingers flirting with mine, “what now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well”—he slides his body closer to mine, brushing our arms—“what do you usually do? You know, when the hottest guy on the planet isn’t sitting on your bed next to you?”
“Ha!” I bark. “Aren’t we full of ourselves?”
“Sometimes.” He bumps his shoulder with mine. “But you have things you need to do, right?”
“You want to know about my boring, mundane life?”
“Yes.” One side of his mouth turns up. “Actually, I don’t want to get in the way of it, so just carry on like I’m not here.”
“That’s going to be a little difficult, especially with you on my bed.”
He stands up, leaving me alone on the bed, and leans his back against the wall. “Better?”
“Yes.” I smirk at his distance. It’s a simplistic solution, like something a fourth grader would do. “That solves everything. It’s almost like I’m here all by myself.”
“Thought so.” He winks at me. “Seriously though, I don’t want to get in the way. What do you usually do when you get home on Mondays?”
“Nothing too exciting,” I reply, still in shock that he’s here. “Usually, I just go for a run, order some Chinese food from the place up the street, and then study for the rest of the night.”
“And wait for me to call, right?”
“Oh, yes, I forgot about that part,” I say with sarcasm. “I pine all day, waiting to hear your voice.”
“I knew it.” He lifts his brows and claps his hands together once. “Okay, well, let’s go.”
Brent walks to the other side of the room, opens his suitcase, pulls out a few items of clothing, and sets a pair of sneakers on the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Getting ready to go for a run,” he replies over his shoulder. “You said that’s what you’re doing, right? So, you’d better get ready to go.”
“A run?” I narrow my eyes at his back as he continues to sift through his clothes.
He turns around with some kind of high-tech fabric in one hand and running shoes in the other.
“You’re going to go for a run with me?”
“Yeah.” He walks to the foot of the bed, laying his items on the comforter. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I say, skeptical.
Brent reaches behind his head and pulls off his shirt. Then, he puts on the black one from his suitcase.
“I don’t know if we’re well matched. You kind of run for a living.”
He lifts his brows while reaching for the button on his pants. “Technically, I kick balls for a living.”
“Uh…”
His pants and boxers drop to the floor, and I jolt up in the same instance, walking into the closet area.
“What?” he calls to me. “Can’t take it?”
I peek over my shoulder. Brent bends toward his pile of garments on the bed, giving me a nice view of his bare ass.
“If we’re going on a run,” I say, opening the drawer where I keep my athletic clothes, focusing on the task and not him, “I don’t need any distractions.”
“What?” he asks, calling my attention. I look into the main room and Brent turns around, naked from the waist down, with his palms framing his groin area. “Is this a distraction?”
“It’s a big one!” I turn away, flabbergasted. “Holy shit, Brent!”
“Did you just say it was a big one?”
Shit! “Yes.” I take off my shirt and bra and then pull the sports bra over my head. “It’s a big one. Happy?”
“Oh, you have no idea
.” Brent leans on the doorframe to my small dressing area, now sporting a tight-fitting pair of underwear, outlining all his assets. “Very happy.” He licks his lips as his gaze cradles every inch of my physique. “I’m going to finish dressing. You should, too. And hurry…unless you want to do something else.”
“Wouldn’t you like that?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Brent goes back into the main part of the apartment. I finish getting ready in my closet, adorning myself in a tight pair of running pants and a long-sleeved fitted shirt. I grab my hat from the top shelf and my running shoes from the section below. Then, I join him once again on the bed, and we tie up our laces.
“You know,” I say, hopping off the bed and bending over in the middle of the room to stretch out, “you look like some kind of sports magazine ad in that outfit of yours.”
“No kidding,” he agrees, lunging toward the ground, also stretching. “I get a lot of stuff from sponsors.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. We all do.”
“Huh.” I walk to the door, exiting the apartment with Brent on my heels. “I had no idea.”
He takes my hand as we walk together down the hall. “Just a perk, I guess.”
Quickly, we descend the stairs and leave my building, merging onto the sidewalk.
I lead us down a few blocks until we reach the park where I usually start my runs. Jumping up and down a few times, I warm up my muscles in the brisk air.
“You ready?” I ask, lifting my foot behind me, stretching out my quads one last time.
“Sure. What’s the plan?”
I tilt my head down the street. “About half a mile to the lake and then a three-mile loop.”
“Sounds good.” He smacks my ass. “I hope I can keep up.”
“Har-har. I’m not as fast as you, remember? I’ll probably be begging you to be nice to me by the end.”
He raises his brows mischievously.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, defensive.
“Hey, you’re the one who said it. And don’t worry. I’ll be nice to you.”
Brent kisses me quickly on the mouth. His lips leave mine before I have a chance to truly enjoy the moment.
Deciding Tomorrow Page 9