Exposed: An Anthology

by Brooke Cumberland

  I realize I’m still staring at him and my hands are still in his. “Nice to hear you remember my name today,” is all I say. I don’t know what to say. I want to ask about his skank—as Carissa would say, but I have no reason to. His hands are warm and comforting, and with all my strength, I make myself let go of him.

  “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry about that.” His eyes are soft, but I don’t budge.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” I wave him off, not wanting to remember last night’s events. “I’m going to go pop some ibuprofen and sit on a bag of frozen peas.” He grins as he swoops me in for a hug, taking me completely by surprise. I return the hug and pull back…way too quickly. I only just now notice he’s in his running clothes. “You’re running today?” I ask, remembering how drunk he was the night before.

  “Of course. I run in rain, snow, or shine. Wasted, sober, or hung over.” He chuckles as I roll my eyes at him.

  “Well, enjoy yourself. I’m going to go find me some peas now.” I wave off and look back at him smiling at me. I give him a half-smile back, and notice he’s eyeing me from behind. A shiver shoots down my spine as I walk away, knowing the view he’s enjoying.

  I grab some frozen vegetables and head toward the couch. I pull my shirt off, leaving just my sports bra and shorts on. I lay there for a good half hour. My eyes are closed, but I hear footsteps coming toward me. Assuming its Carissa, I don’t flinch.

  The footsteps stop at the end of the couch. I can feel the heat coming off the body hovering over me, and soon realize it’s not Carissa. My eyes pop open, and I see Eric standing over me.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, covering myself up with my shirt that I threw on the floor.

  “I came to check up on you,” he answers in the most sweetest, tender voice. He bends down on his knees making his face inches away from mine.

  “How do you keep getting in here? Don’t you knock?” I ask, returning his soothing tone.

  “I’m a firefighter. We don’t…usually knock,” he grins, knowing exactly what I meant. “Okay, fine. I was hoping I’d catch you naked again. Looks like I got half lucky.” He laughs, and dodges my hand as I go to slap his shoulder.

  “Geez, you really are a perv.” He pouts, putting his lower lip out as if he’s offended. It immediately puts a soft spot in my heart as I keep running—literally, into this man. Maybe it’s okay to let my guard down…

  Just as I’m convincing myself to go for it, he bends back on his knees and rises to his feet. “Well, sweetheart, I’m off for a forty-eight hour shift. Hoping I don’t have to save you this time.” He smiles, and steps back toward the door.

  My breathing quickens as he shuts the door behind him. I was so ready to kiss him, but perhaps I truly wasn’t. How the heck would I know anyway? It’s been three years since I’ve let a man touch me, and even that didn’t go far.

  It’s Sunday, so I decide to crawl back into bed to get a few more hours of sleep. Carissa is still passed out in her room, and isn’t usually up until noon on the weekends.

  * * *

  I wake up to the sound of metal banging around in the apartment. What the heck? I look and see that it’s half past noon, and decide I need to get up finally. I’m still in my sports bra, but I feel too lazy to get dressed.

  I step out of my bedroom, making sure to scan the hallway first. I walk to the kitchen, and see Carissa digging through the cabinets.

  “Where the hell is it?” she mumbles, not realizing I’m standing there.

  “What in the world are you doing, Riss?”

  “I’m looking for a pan. Don’t we have a frigging pan in this place?” she shouts, backing up out of the cabinet.

  “For what? You don’t cook.” I stand there and continue to watch her. I laugh as I see her get frustrated. She glares at me and asks where she can find one. “In the oven,” I respond. “It was the only available spot left.” I shrug, answering her silent question.

  “Oh, thanks.” She opens the oven and reaches in for the pan. She places it on the stovetop and turns the stove on. I watch intently, wondering what she’s up to. “I’m making lunch!” she finally exclaims as I don’t’ take my eyes off her.

  “Why?” Carissa was not a cook. Not even a little bit of a cook. She went to her grandmother’s house once a week and stocked up on her frozen meals. They were the best actually. She made us frozen lasagnas, casseroles, and soups.

  “Because I’m hungry.”

  “Okay…well don’t burn the place down. I’m not in the mood to see Eric again.” I cross my arms and lean up against the doorframe.

  “Again?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “Don’t ask.” I shake my head. “We need a better lock on the door, by the way.” She gives me a puzzled look as I walk away.

  I spend the day curled up on the couch reading sports magazines and checking out scores on CNN. It helps knowing that stuff for when the athletes at the university talk about it. I don’t like standing there looking like a moron, so I call it my “weekly research.”

  “You are such a boy.” Carissa plops on the couch next to me. “How can you stand to watch this crap?” She motions to the TV as the news anchor is going over stats.

  “I just stare at the hot athletes and drool myself into an orgasmic coma.” She turns to scowl at me. “Oh no wait, that’s you.” I smile as I tease her.

  “So, what’s going on with Eric? Are you going for it or not?” she asks, changing the subject. I roll my eyes at her attempt to get information out of me.

  “Nothing is happening. He probably views me like a sister or something anyway. So no, I’m not going for it.” I change the channel in an effort to shut her up.

  “Girl, you are in serious denial. Either you are suffering from a tumor, or you just can’t admit you want him to soak your panties.” She turns her face back to the screen as I turn on one of her ridiculous reality shows.

  “Where do you even come up with this stuff?” I mock, knowing she’s always been the outspoken one.

  “I told you. I’m excellent at reading people. And body language. I see the sexual tension between you two, and if you don’t get it on soon your pussy will combust.” She laughs and slaps my knee. “Seriously, Lane. You need to get back out there. Well…out there period, since technically you’ve hardly been out there in the first place.”

  “Oh sweet bejesus, you can be so annoying,” I groan as she’s fiercely smiling at me.

  “You know you love me.”

  We watch a Keeping Up with the Kardashian’s marathon on E! and somewhere between a divorce scandal and someone cheating on someone else, I fall asleep on the couch.

  I wake up sometime throughout the night and realize I’m still on the couch, only now there’s a pillow under my head and a blanket over my body. Carissa must have gone back to her room and covered me up. I drag my lazy body back to my room and hit the bed hard.

  My alarm goes off and I know it’s Monday already. I cover my head with my sheets and close my eyes again. Before the snooze goes off, Carissa darts into my room slamming the door against my dresser.

  “What the fuck is this?” she yells, holding up a note in her hand. I have no idea what’s she talking about, so I rub my eyes awake and sit up.

  “What is it?” I ask, holding my hand out.

  You should really start locking your door. There’s too many weirdo’s out there.

  Goodnight.

  “Please tell me you had a late night booty call or something?” She looks freaked out. I haven’t told her about Eric coming in those couple of times—uninvited.

  “It was Eric.” At least I’m praying it was. “He must have been the one to cover me up.”

  “That’s fucking creepy,” she mumbles, and storms out my door. Agreed.

  I skip my usual morning run and head right in the shower. I dress and get ready for my day. I don’t understand this thing with Eric. Why is he coming to check on me all the time? Why does he act as if he cares one minu
te, and then has skanks sleeping over the next? I convince myself this is exactly why I don’t date. Guys are messed up jack-holes.

  Chapter Four

  I’ve barely recovered from the weekend’s events. I all ready regret skipping my run this morning. My head is spinning out of control from over-analyzing everything that happened.

  Eric has seen more skin on my body than any other man has seen before. He sneaks into my apartment to check on me constantly. I run into him all the time at the very worst moments. One minute he’s all southern charm, and the next he’s rocking hips with another chick. Then, he comes to cover me up in the middle of the night—in the middle of his shift! He’s the most confusing man I’ve ever met.

  I swing through Starbucks drive-thru for a much-needed pick me up before I take the short drive to work. I need work to distract me today.

  “Velaney, sweetie. You wouldn’t believe what those dumb fucks did!” Coach yells from his office chair. I know exactly who he’s talking about since I just bandaged a couple of guys over the weekend.

  “Let me guess, just for fun,” I smirk. He glares at me. This isn’t the first time his players haven’t followed orders. “Did Thing One and Thing Two mess up their hands again?”

  “Worse.” He slides his chair and opens the door up wider. There sitting across his desk are the same players I wrapped up previously, only this time, they both have double shiners.

  I walk over to his office and sit on the edge of the desk. “This is a little more than the typical boys will be boys, don’t you think?”

  “Dude, whatever! People think they can mess with us! We have to prove them wrong!” Trey nearly yells, holding an ice pack to one eye.

  “Yeah, those motha-fuckers won’t be messing with us again!” Brandon continues the roaring.

  “You want to end your damn careers? Get a grip!” Coach yells back and storms out the door. “Fix those morons up and send them back home,” he yells from the hallway.

  “You two have a death wish? You’re going to get in a fight with the wrong guy some time.” I continue my lecture as I look over both their injuries. “I’m diagnosing you both with stupidity disease.”

  I check out their wrists and make sure they don’t have a sprain. I rub out a few knots and make them do a few routine hand movements. I tape up their sore wrists and stand in front of them. “Now go home and try to stay out of trouble!” They moan at me once again and leave.

  I see a few more players and spend the rest of my day doing paperwork. My mind stays focused on work, and by the afternoon, I feel much better.

  “What are you smiling about?” Carissa asks as I plop on the couch. She’s cuddled into the recliner, and is reading one of her infamous must have you now romance novels.

  “Nothing. What? I can’t smile?” I smirk.

  “No…that’s a smile that means something. I can tell, remember?” She grins, raising her brows at me to spill the news.

  “There’s no meaning…just that I’m content.” She glares at me as if she doesn’t believe me. “Seriously, Riss. I’m happy. I love my job. I love you. What’s not to be happy about?”

  “Would this happen to have anything at all to do with Eric?” She sets her book down as if we’re getting into deep conversation.

  “There’s nothing going on with Eric. That’s just it. I’m content with that. I’m not going to let myself get involved with a man like him.”

  “You mean a fucking sexy firefighter with southern charm? The one who’s always around and apparently sneaks into our apartment in the middle of the night just to check on you?” Well, when she says it like that. She sits on the edge of the chair, closer to me now. “Lane, you know I love you. I do, but sometimes, you’re a real pain in my ass.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I laugh at her blunt humor. “I don’t get him. Why is he so sweet and charming, and then pretends to forget my name when his bimbo is around? Come on, explain that to me.”

  “He’s trying to get your attention, Lane! He doesn’t know how fucked up you really are, so he’s trying amateur techniques. You need to let him in. Tell him you’re interested, and he’ll stop being a twat waffle.” She sets her palms down on my knees. I let out a small laugh.

  “Gee, doc. How much do I owe you for the psych session?” I tease. I hated situations like these. I was never good at hearing it like it is.

  “Fine, don’t take my advice. But for the love of all that’s holy, get laid already, would ya?” She leans back and grabs her book again.

  I ignore her and decide to go for an afternoon run. She just put a black cloud over my good mood. Damn her.

  I decide to run up to the woods instead of my traditional routes. Staying on path before sunrise is mostly a safety reason, but since the sun was still up, I went for a nature run.

  The traffic is low for a Monday evening, and the grass is greener than usual. I don’t know if I’m noticing these things because I’m more attentive, or if I’m obviously trying not to think about him. I run past a few dog walkers, a couple mother’s pushing strollers, and several bikers as I make my way up to the woodsy part of my neighborhood.

  The air is cooler over here, which feels amazing against my sweaty, hot body. I stop and run in place while I reprogram my iPod. I begin running again to Macklemore and lose myself in the music.

  I’m dripping with sweat, more than usual. The cool air helps me breath, but the deeper I run, the farther away from the city I get. I’ve never been this far up the woods before, and soon I realize I’m not quiet sure I know where I am.

  I stop to get a glimpse of the view. As breathtaking as it is, leaves blowing, birds chirping, I have no idea how to get back home. The trail I ran wasn’t a straight shot. In fact, I ran off trail for a while before finding another one.

  The sky starts to get darker and I realize I must have been gone for hours now. It’s not like me to run this long, or this far even. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I consume myself so much in my thoughts and in the music, that I continued running.

  I look around frantic for any resemblance of which direction the city is. I’m surrounded by trees, bushes, and nature sounds. I decide to sit on the ground for a moment until my head clears and stops spinning.

  I grab my cell phone and notice I barely have one bar. Go figure. I dial Carissa’s number and wait for my phone to ring.

  “Ring, darn it. Ring!” I beg my phone and hold it above my head. I put it on speakerphone as I finally hear it ring.

  “Laney? Wh—you—been—worried.”

  “Riss? Are you there? Can you hear me?” I yell.

  “Lane? Hello?”

  “Riss, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m lost in the woods. I don’t know the way back to the city. I need help!” I try to remain calm, but deep inside me is panicking frantically. Before she can respond, I lose the signal.

  I decide to walk until I get a couple more bars. I try heading in one direction to see if my signal gets stronger.

  “Just my luck,” I mumble to myself. I lose the connection completely. I turn around and start walking in the other direction, hoping I’m at least getting warmer.

  The sweat that once covered my body is now cold. The sky is dimmer and goose bumps have peeked up and down my arms and legs. I hold my phone up again seeing if I get my signal back. It flashes, beeps, and shuts off.

  “Dead battery!” I yell. “Ugh, why! Why!” I scream, not even trying to hide the panic.

  I continue walking and soon realize I’m heading nowhere. I’m lost. I can’t tell which direction I’m in, where I came in from, or which way is out. I surrender to the woods and collapse next to a tree. I pull my knees up tight to my chest holding in as much body heat as I can. I lower my face to my knees as tears fall down my cheeks.

  I feel dumb for crying. Even more dumb for going into the woods in the first place. I felt high earlier—in a good way. I let that high take me out here and now I’m lost. Who’s going to find me way the h
eck out here?

  I ramble in my thoughts, and my eyes get sleepy. The tears continue, but I huddle up closer to the tree and let my eyes close. My head is heavy and my mind is exhausted. I let my body relax as my mind shuts off completely.

  My eyes shoot open as my body shivers from the cold breeze that has arrived. The sky is no longer there, and it’s completely dark. I’m surrounded by trees and darkness. I’m scared, but I don’t want to admit that to myself now.

  I sit back up and clench my knees up to my chest again. I rock my body slowly as I desperately beg for heat. In the midst of planning my funeral in my head, I hear a faint voice shouting. I must be hallucinating now. There’s no way someone’s out here this late.

  I rock some more, and hear it again. This time I stand up, urging my ears to find the voice. I walk a few feet to my left and notice the voice gets louder. I continue walking slowly trying to grasp where the noise is coming from.

  “Velaney!” I hear clear as day. Holy hot balls, someone is calling my name!

  “Over here!” I shout back, pressing my hands to my mouth to echo the words louder. “I’m here!”

  I crunch my feet against the leaves that have fallen and notice the voice getting louder and stronger in my direction. “Yes, finally!” I mutter to myself.

  “Velaney, I’m comin’! Don’t move!” the voice orders. It sounds like a man, not Carissa. Perhaps she called for help…

  “Okay, I’m over here!”

  “Keep talkin’!” he orders. I don’t know what to say. Therefore, I just keep yelling that I’m here. “I think I see you,” he says much quieter now.

  “Eric?” I ask, puzzled at the familiar southern tone. “Is that you?” At this point, I really don’t care who it is. As long as he gets me out of here, I’ll take it.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He comes within view finally. “Carissa called me.” He looks obviously stunning, but more so, he looks concerned. “Why are you out here so far away from the city?”