Tackled by Love

Home > Other > Tackled by Love > Page 6
Tackled by Love Page 6

by Rachael Duncan


  I’m an idiot. The first girl to really catch my eye since I was 16-years-old and I make her uncomfortable and remind her of a past she wants to forget. Just great.

  “Don’t I feel like an asshole,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

  Mom pats me on the back. “Autumn will be okay. She’s still dealing with her own insecurities and this town reminds her of that sometimes. I think she would’ve left a long time ago if it weren’t for her dad.”

  My mom goes into her office and I look at the first delivery slip. If I really think back on it, I can remember Autumn getting harassed every now and then. I never participated in picking on her, but I never spoke up and stopped it either. That kind of embarrasses me too. I was popular and carried a certain amount of influence. If I stood up for her, I’m sure I could have made a little bit of a difference and deterred some of the bullying.

  The rest of the day is spent with me running in and out of the bakery. I had no idea Mom’s business had picked up so much, but she’s doing really well for herself. I had helped her remodel the place to give her more work room to do bigger cakes, and it looks like it’s paying off.

  I only catch Autumn’s eye a couple times where she gives me a tight-lipped smile. To be honest, that kind of disappoints me. Then I’m confused as to why I feel that way. I’m still technically married and it’s been a really long time since I’ve even thought about another woman that way. I might have had a lot of girls throwing themselves at me and practically shoving their pussies in my face, but I never acted on any of it. I was always faithful and loyal to my wife and my vows. That thought makes me feel a little bitter, since I wasn’t given the same respect when she walked out on me.

  ***

  I told Mom I’d cook dinner for her and Dad this evening. I hope she’s not too excited about it since my culinary skills only go so far. While I’m at the grocery store, I run into a few girls that I’d be perfectly okay with never seeing again. They were your typical mean girls in high school, and unfortunately, they were friends with my girlfriend at the time. For the life of me I couldn’t understand what Val saw in them since she wasn’t one of those girls that spread rumors and fed off of gossip.

  I see Alexa sneer at me and I roll my eyes.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” she says.

  “Nice to see you too, Alexa,” I deadpan.

  “She has every right to leave you, you know. You promised to take care of her and now you can’t. The whole town is talking about it. No one blames her for wanting to divorce your washed out ass,” she says, examining her long, red claws. I’d really like to strangle her with them.

  “Is that so? If that’s the case, then I’m glad I’ll be rid of her then. Have a good one.” I walk away, leaving her with her mouth hanging open.

  The thing I loved about growing up in a small town was everyone knew everyone. The thing I hated was because everyone knew everyone, they knew your business too. Word quickly spread that Valerie left me and by the time I actually made it back, the whole town was well aware that my marriage was falling apart. It also didn’t help that it was being splashed all over those damn, sleazy tabloids. Nothing like seeing your face on the front page of a magazine that’s speculating as to why we’re separating. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the fact that we were both from the same town made the locals go crazy over the gossip, causing them to pick sides. At first, people felt bad for Val, the doting wife whose life was being turned upside down because of my injury. How could anyone be expected to stay with such uncertainty and instability? Her old clique would go around telling anyone who’d listen that they should all support her. That I’m the reason behind the lifestyle that she’d grown accustomed to and now I couldn’t give that to her. I can’t fucking believe this shit! What about for richer or poorer? I guess all she heard was for richer or richer. But for the most part, people have been real supportive of me, seeing Val for who she truly is. Words like gold digger and money grubber quickly circulated and became the town’s new favorite saying. Whatever. I just tried to stay the hell out of it and move on with my life.

  Once I arrive home, I go to the kitchen and start the prep work for the very “fancy” dinner I’m making; spaghetti and meatballs. I know, I know. It’s not gourmet or anything, but I’ve perfected the red sauce and meatballs. Really, it’s one of the few meals I actually know how to cook.

  A little while later, my mom enters the room. “Mmm, that smells good, son.”

  “Thanks. It’s my famous recipe.” I lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek.

  She laughs softly and says, “Don’t you mean my recipe?”

  “Eh, whose recipe it is isn’t important,” I shrug and dip a wooden spoon into the sauce, slurping it off to have a small taste. It’s pretty damn good if I do say so myself. About another 30 minutes and it’ll be ready. I cover the pot and go to the fridge to get out a bottle of water. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I take a long drink before leaning back in my chair.

  “Thank you so much for running those deliveries for me. Autumn and I have had to get to the bakery super early just to make sure we have time to decorate and deliver.”

  At the mention of her name, I decide to dig a little. “So, is Autumn seeing anyone?” Subtle, Stone, real subtle.

  My mom’s lips quirk up in a knowing grin. “Why do you ask?”

  I shrug and rub my thumb against the condensation on my water. Glancing back up at her, “No reason, just curious is all.”

  She squints at me, “No, I don’t think she’s seeing anyone. It’s funny you’ve taken such an interest in her suddenly. After all, you are still married.”

  That last comment has me pulling back from my internal thoughts about Autumn. My mind had started to envision what it would feel like to wrap my fingers through her hair as I capture her plump lips with mine. But having my mother mention that I’m still technically married to the devil herself quickly douses any fantasies lingering in my head. Plus, what kind of man does that make me? I’ve been with Valerie for nine years and only three months after being told she wants a divorce I’m already thinking about what it’d be like to get this other girl underneath me?

  To be honest, I’ve had a lot of time to think over these last three months though. I was really upset when Val dropped the big “D bomb” on me right after my injury. It crushed me to think the love I had for her wasn’t reciprocated like I’d always believed it was. I pictured myself with her forever; having a half dozen kids running around and enjoying old age together. Now that I see her true colors, I almost feel relieved. I might have been fooled for the last nine years, but I won’t let that happen anymore. That’s why I’m not fighting her on the divorce. I’m not sending messages or calling her asking to work through this. The way I see it, she’s doing me a favor.

  All that still doesn’t explain my interest in Autumn; a girl I know next to nothing about. But I plan to change that, because that little twinkle in her eye she had at the bar when she laughed with her friends makes me want to peel back her beautiful layers and find out who she is.

  Sweat is running down my neck and pooling in my cleavage as I finish off the last few minutes on the stair master. I’m climbing away as I go over Landon’s reaction yesterday when he realized who I was.

  I know I should probably take it as a compliment, but it made me mad. He didn’t even know I existed when I was fat, and now that I’ve slimmed down, he suddenly sees me? Yes, I’m still bitter at my classmates for being such assholes. Nothing pisses me off more than running into one of the trolls that picked on me and have them ask me out on a date. I smile and politely decline, but internally I’m calling them every dirty name in the book and telling them to fuck off. I never repeat the words out loud because then I’d be letting on that they really got to me all those years ago. I didn’t cry or complain then, I’ll be damned if I do it now. To hell with them all.

  So why do I feel angry toward Landon? He never bullied me when we were in high school, but w
hen his eyes flashed with a mixture of amazement and disbelief, it set me off. Is it so hard to believe that I could be somewhat attractive? That I wouldn’t keep getting wider as the years went on? He looked at me like he couldn’t believe that was the same girl. Whenever someone gives me that expression, I just want to yell at them and say, “WHAT? DID YOU THINK I WANTED TO BE FAT?” Apparently, I have some lingering resentment that I still need to work through.

  I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that when I glance down, I’ve done an extra 15 minutes on this thing. I wipe my sweat off the machine and hop down. When I do, I collide right into a solid wall of chest muscles. A pair of hands place themselves on my shoulders to steady me, as I slowly glance up. My eyes scan this impeccable body, starting with a firm chest that I want to run my hands up. I glance a little higher to a very sexy, strong jaw showcasing a little stubble and quickly think of all the places I’d like to feel that stubble on my body. Feeling the heat of my desire, I take in his delicious lips and suddenly feel the desperate need to kiss them. I look up and lock my gaze with his hazel eyes that I want to get lost in. My first thought is, Where in the world did that come from? My second thought is, Oh God, I just collided my sweaty, smelly body into Landon and I’m slightly mortified.

  Giving me a knowing grin that tells me I totally got caught checking him out, he says, “Sorry about that. Are you alright?”

  I blink a couple times before I realize he just asked me a question. “Y-yes. I’m fine. Sorry I just got sweat all over you. That probably really grosses you out.” I take a step back from him, looking down to hide my embarrassment.

  “No worries, I’m used to it. Usually it’s 300-pound guys that are sweating on me, so this is nothing.” I look back up and he winks at me. I swear I just swooned. Wait, me? Swoon? And wasn’t I just thinking about how much he pisses me off? I need to get my head checked, because clearly I’m bipolar. “Do you come here often?”

  At that lame attempt to start a conversation, I start laughing. And I can’t stop. He just said the most cliché line known to mankind and it seems so odd coming from him. For some reason, I thought he’d be a lot smoother than that. He starts chuckling beside me, then says, “Okay, that was really cheesy, wasn’t it?” His eyes are still lit up with laughter, making it a little easier to relax next to him.

  “Yeah, maybe a little. That’s okay though, I needed the laugh.”

  “Good, glad I could brighten your day at my expense,” he jokes. “What I meant was, how often do you come here during the week? This is my first time to this gym. My doctor has given me the okay for some light workouts and I don’t want to drive all the way in to town to use my trainer’s facilities. So maybe you could show me around.”

  My eyes start looking around the gym. It’s an old habit, one I wish I could break. But whenever an attractive guy is talking to me, I always scan the surrounding area for people watching. This stems from an incident at school.

  It’s my junior year and the only thing that keeps me going is the fact that I’m almost out of here. Walking to my locker, I count the days until I’m free. Only 256 school days left. It’s pretty sad that I have a constant mental tally of the time I have left to serve, but seeing the light at the end of the tunnel gives me strength to deal with the crap the kids give to me. Shutting my locker door, I turn around and see a guy leaning against the one beside me.

  “Hey, I’m Chad,” he says in a cool tone. Chad is the new kid in school. He’s very attractive and I’ve heard the popular girls whisper and giggle about him before. The fact that he’s talking to me has me feeling embarrassed and giddy at the same time. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I glance down at the floor.

  “H-hi, I’m Autumn.” I hate the fact that my nerves are showing by stuttering, but I’ve never had a guy be nice to me before.

  “So, I’ve seen you around and was wondering if you’d want to go out with me sometime.” My eyes snap up in time to see him flash me a cocky grin. I’m so excited I can feel my body vibrating. My insides are jumping up and down, shouting to the rooftops that I’m being asked on a date! And not by any guy either, but by a total hottie! I never thought I’d have this moment, but here it is and I finally feel like a normal teenager doing normal things.

  “Yes!” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. Trying to reel it back a little, I press my lips together, but it’s no use. The wide smile on my face can’t be contained. This is the first moment I’ve been happy since before my mom died and I want everyone to know it. I’m about to ask him when he wants to go out, but he speaks up first.

  “Good, I’ll need someone that’s as big as a horse to pull my car, in case it breaks down on me and my date.”

  As his words slowly sink in, my smile slowly fades. A few of the guys on the baseball team come from around the corner and give him high fives and slaps on the back as they continue to laugh at me. The nausea begins to creep up my esophagus and the bile burns the back of my throat. Trying desperately to salvage what little dignity I have left, I calmly walk away.

  I was completely horrified and crushed. I felt the ache in my heart from years of this shit grow exponentially. That was probably the closest I ever got to crying in front of everyone. To go from having such high hopes of making a friend and having a date, to the massive blow of being at the butt of another vicious joke was almost my undoing. To make matters worse, someone was right around the corner of the hallway filming the whole thing. That recording soon circulated through the whole school and everyone got to watch my devastation and humiliation over and over. Ever since then, I’ve been very cautious when approached by a guy.

  A light touch to my arm brings me back to the present. Snapping out of my daze, I look up at Landon, whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I ask, giving him a tight smile.

  “Are you okay? You looked a little ill and started scanning the room like someone was watching you or something.”

  With his hand still on my arm, I feel a strange sense of comfort. Like I’m pulling his inner strength and confidence into myself. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was supposed to meet my friend here and she never showed up. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss her before I left,” I lie.

  “If you don’t have time to show me around right now, we could always reschedule.” I look down at the hand that has yet to leave my skin. Landon catches my line of sight and smoothly removes his hand.

  “No, no. I don’t have anywhere I need to be at the moment, so I don’t mind giving you a quick tour.”

  Landon flashes me a smile that I know has the power to melt panties off of women. “After you,” he gestures for me to start ahead of him.

  We spend the next 15 minutes or so walking around the gym where I show him all the equipment. I even tell him about the classes they have here, although I doubt he’d go to any of them. Zumba just doesn’t seem like his thing.

  “I’m going to grab a shake, do you want to join me?” I find myself asking.

  “Sure,” he says with a smile. Once we order our shakes, we grab them and take a seat at one of the tables they have set up nearby. The silence stretches between us and I start thinking of anything to fill it because it’s starting to make me feel uncomfortable.

  “How’s your knee feeling? I noticed you still favor the other side slightly.”

  “It’s getting better, just taking longer to heal than the last time,” he answers, looking down at his drink. He sounds slightly bitter and I’m sure he’s thinking about how this made him give up football for good.

  “Well, at least you have a good support system. You’re all Brenda ever talks about and I’m sure she’s taking really good care of you at home. Some of your teammates have spoken publicly about their support for you and wishing you well. So at least you don’t have to do it alone.” I take a sip through my straw.

  He lets out a huff that sounds like an attempt to laugh, but not quite. “Yeah, a good support system. So good, in fact, that my wife
left me because of it.” He starts clenching his jaw and I know this is a topic we need to quickly move away from. What the hell happened though? How could she just leave him like that?

  “Because I couldn’t play anymore,” he shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but I can tell it bothers him. Oh, shit. I said that out loud?

  Dear Brain-to-mouth Filter,

  You suck.

  Sincerely,

  Autumn

  Not able to help myself and since I’ve already started to pry, I figured one more question wouldn’t hurt, “So she was just in it for the status? To say she was a quarterback’s wife?”

  “Yeah, and the money that came with it. As soon as she realized I wasn’t going to be pulling in the millions anymore, she bailed.” I’m a little surprised he’s talking so openly about this with me.

  “What a bitch,” I mumble before taking another drink.

  That earns me a chuckle. “You hit the nail on the head with that one.” His mood lightens slightly at my comment. I wish I could say I’m surprised by her recent actions, but I’m not. She was such a fake bitch in high school and got so much joy off of others’ misery. The fact that Landon seemed shocked by the whole thing just goes to show that he probably didn’t know her for the heartless person she is.

  He asks me normal questions you ask when getting to know someone. How I got into cake decorating, what I like about it, things like that. I notice he avoids all conversation that would involve high school, and I’m glad.

  As I’m about to walk out, I hear Landon yell out my name. I turn around and he says, “Mom said she was taking the day off tomorrow since the schedule isn’t too hectic. I’ll swing by to do the deliveries, so why don’t you give me your cell phone number so I can text you when I’m on my way. You know, so that everything will be ready when I get there.” I rattle off my number to him, and a few moments later my phone is vibrating. “I just texted you so that you’ll have mine too,” he says as he holds up his phone.

 

‹ Prev