by C. J. Pinard
***
The club had gone all out for us. By the time we got there, the place was already bustling with people. I heard a few people shout my name as I walked in. I smiled in their direction, but mostly ignored them. Jared and I made our way to the bar where our coach, the team manager, and a lot of our teammates were hanging out. We were met with a few fist bumps and a row of shots lining the bar. Jared wasted no time grabbing one and throwing it back. He picked up another and handed it to me, but I shook my head. When was he gonna get it through his thick skull that I didn’t drink?
The bar’s big-screen TV was playing highlights from the game, and I wondered how they had put them together so quickly. I was sure somebody with a computer background had done it for them. All the scenes from the game earlier today were spliced together in a carefully synchronized reel, complete with captions and players’ names on the screen. I saw myself slam the bat against the fastball and run around the bases. I was mildly amused by this.
I slid my gaze away from the big-screen TV and looked at Jared again, who had to have been on his third shot of whatever amber-colored booze was in those glasses, and shook my head. I was hoping he wouldn’t get all shit-faced and I’d have to drive him back to his apartment again.
The place was beginning to really fill up now. I could see it would be wall-to-wall people soon, and there was no shortage of very beautiful women in this place. They were here, no doubt, for the players and the drinks, but I didn’t mind. There were worse places I could be. Like at home alone.
And I didn’t want to be at home alone. Sometimes I enjoyed the solitude of my apartment, and at other times I loathed the very thought of it.
I had broken up with Samantha a couple years ago, and while it had taken me a while to accept what she’d done to deserve it, I did accept it, but it didn’t mean I liked it. Sam had been what I thought I was looking for in regards to my future – all beauty, brains, and street smarts, but it turned out she really was none of those things. Her physical beauty, with her long, dark hair, haunting eyes, and curves – was just a full-body costume she wore to hide the ugliness inside of her. It had taken me months – maybe even these two years – to realize this. But when I finally understood what she had exuded was selfishness disguised as beauty – was when I had realized that I really needed and deserved more than what Sam was bringing to the table. I was educated, smart, and talented, and she was using me for what I could give her, instead of giving me what I needed in return. I was looking for a partner in life. Someone who would be my equal and would stand by my side, not someone who would try to control me and try to rule over me. I also did not want to try to control anyone; I didn’t like timid, meek women who wanted me to tell them what to do. I was attracted to strong women who could hold their own and didn’t need a man in their lives, but instead wanted one to complete the map of life and love they had laid out for themselves. A man who would just be an accent to an otherwise full life that was just missing that last element. My future girlfriend – my future wife, partner – she would be my equal. My equivalent.
“Damn.” That one word broke me out of whatever lingering thoughts were flitting through my brain.
I looked at Jared with a questioning gaze and followed his line of sight to two women who had just entered the bar – with my brother of all people. I narrowed my eyes at Dalton and his rockabilly friends and wondered how they’d managed to wrangle two very beautiful women into this dive of a club.
My brother and his two friends were flanked by a blonde and a brunette. The brunette was very pretty with long, dark wavy hair and an innocent-looking face. But the blonde – my God, she was all flowing waves and sexy curves for days. She was taller than her friend, but her swagger and the way her clothes hugged her hourglass figure had me staring unabashedly like some perv. Her smile was something I knew I’d never forget, and the way she pointed at Dalton when she spoke caused me to have to bite back a grin. This blonde already seemed like she would be a force to be reckoned with, and I was always up for a challenge. She almost seemed… regal.
I managed to tear my gaze away and it swerved to Jared, who was, of course, staring at them too. His elbow found my ribs as he murmured in my ear, “Isn’t that your brother?”
I nodded, acknowledging my crazy younger brother, who had dyed his blonde hair jet-black and had gotten a few questionable tattoos and some of those huge gauges in his ears. I wasn’t embarrassed by him, but we definitely did not resemble each other much, unlike me and the youngest Lawless brother, Jory, who could probably pass as my twin if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“Yes.” My one-word answer since I couldn’t construct anything more intelligible at the sight of the voluptuous blonde.
Jared snorted and turned around to face the bar, where he was flirting with a very sassy, short-haired bartender with a few tattoos of her own.
I sat and sipped water while I watched my brother and his friends with these girls. They seemed to be on friendly terms, and I wondered where he had met them. They appeared to be having a good time, and I contemplated going over and joining them, but I also didn’t want to ruin any game my brother or his friends were trying to run with these girls. He usually got pissed at me for overshadowing him, especially with women, even though I never meant to. However, these girls didn’t seem like the tattooed rocker chicks I’d seen him hang out with before. Dalton was only 24 and loved being single, or so he always said.
After watching them for a few minutes, trying not to stare but keeping an eye on the group, Dalton made eye contact with me and smiled. He waved me over.
“I’ll be back,” I called to Jared, who was now talking to a brunette and a redhead. I plunked my ice water on the bar top.
He barely acknowledged me as I stalked off toward Dalton and his friends. I dipped my head at my brother. “What’s up?”
I saw him jab the blonde in the side with his bony elbow and I wanted to slap him for behaving like such a Neanderthal. “Miranda, this is my brother, Jace.”
Miranda turned her head and fixed me with a flirtatious gaze. She shook my hand, and while the skin on her hand was warm and soft, the grip was a bit more forceful than most women’s, and this made me smile. “Nice to meet you,” she flirted, and her voice was girly and confident. “Great game, by the way.”
I smiled in genuine now, showing off the dimple on my right cheek that I couldn’t control but knew how to work to my advantage. I reluctantly slid my eyes away from Miranda and looked at her friend. “And you are?”
The demure brunette smiled shyly and shook my hand weakly. “Shayla.”
I grinned at her, then moved my eyes back to Miranda. I was just about to say something else but suddenly Miranda grabbed her friend’s arm and began to walk back to where they’d been sitting, but not before throwing me a look I couldn’t quite decipher, but it was something between curiosity and challenge. However, the vibe she was giving off wasn’t very invitational. I got the feeling she didn’t want me at their table. She didn’t fawn over me like a lot of women did, which I really didn’t like but was getting used to, and I decided I was just gonna go back to the bar and Jared, and let Dalton and his friends have a nice evening with the girls.
I found Jared in a corner booth with the two women he was with earlier. As soon as Jared saw me, he commanded the beautiful ladies to scoot over. Instead, the redhead got up and ushered me into the booth with a flourish. I shot her a wink and slid over, and she climbed in after me. I was now the cream filling in a very hot girl cookie.
“Ladies, this is Jace. Jace, this is Tracie and Alesha…”
I heard him, and aside from smiling politely and pretending to care about their names or any part of the conversation, my attention was still at another corner table where my brother and Miranda were. I didn’t want to stare, but I found my eyes drifting over there several times during the night. At one point, Jared got up and left, leaving me alone with the girls, which caused me to have to pay more attention to them.
>
They were nice enough, but pretty boring. After about an hour, I told them it was time for me to go, and they both got up and left, too. As I was getting into my car, I heard someone call my name.
“Jace. You want some company tonight?”
I turned around to see the redhead leaning against her little white sports car, a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes.
Folding my arms over my chest, I hesitated a little bit longer than I should have when I replied, “No, but thanks for the offer.”
A wry smile twisted up on her shiny lips and she shrugged a pale shoulder. “Your loss, Mr. Lawless.”
As she got into her car and squealed out of the parking lot, I hoped she wasn’t all in her feelings over my rejection. Her proposal was way too hookerish. Besides, I couldn’t get a pretty, voluptuous blonde out of my mind. I’d definitely be calling Dalton later to see where he’d met such a delectable creature.
Chapter 3
I stared straight ahead as the gunny barked orders at us. His words were like blah-blah-blah in my brain, even though I knew I should be paying attention to his rant. This particular instructor was known for his mouth and snark, and while I didn’t want to disrespect him, I did dismiss him mentally a little bit.
I’d been in the reserves for over two years after four years of active duty, and had learned quickly how to read people. I happened to know this particular gunny was a bit full of himself. I snapped to attention when I heard him use my name.
“Drop and give me fifty, Lawless, you cocky fucker!”
I did as I was told, not sure what had warranted his outrage, but not daring to ask. After fifty pushups were achieved, I bounced back to my feet at full attention, hiding the smirk under the impassive mask I had placed on my face. My biceps and pecs were throbbing, but I ignored it. I was pumped on adrenaline and secretly happy I’d had to do the pushups.
A fellow Marine standing next to me named Abe Andrews that I did weekend drills with spoke out the side of his mouth as the lieutenant made his way down the line.
“Next time at least say, ‘yes, sir’ instead of staring off into space, dumbass.”
I furrowed my eyebrows together, still looking straight ahead, but speaking to Andrews. “What the…?”
“Later, dude,” he whispered as the boss came back up the line and eyeballed us all as if he wanted to murder us in cold blood.
I kept my gaze straight ahead, my arms and chest still burning from the pushups but feeling a bit of a rush from the impromptu exercise.
“Dismissed,” he barked, and we all turned on our left heel and walked in formation back to the mess hall.
***
Abe Andrews shoveled something wet and disgusting-looking into his maw before he swallowed and pointed a fork at me, his brown eyes scrutinizing.
“What’s up with you today, Lawless? You off your game?” He snorted and took a swig of milk from a small cardboard container that reminded me of elementary school. “No pun intended.”
I shook my head. “No, man. I’ve been doing this longer than you, so I believe that negates your right to ask me about my game.”
He set his milk container down and raised a bushy eyebrow at me. “Did you just say ‘negates’? Who fuckin’ talks like that?”
“I do, asswipe,” I answered as I poked some green beans with my fork and inspected them before I lifted them to my mouth. “I went to college. It makes you all smart and stuff.”
I let that last part come out as a facetious comment. Andrews wouldn’t take kindly to me acting like a college-educated pompous ass in front of him and the rest of my platoon.
“Go fuck yourself, college boy,” he grumbled before he slid the side of his plastic fork along the remaining slop on his plastic tray and shoved it in his mouth.
I snorted. “I don’t need to. I have hordes of women to do that for me.”
He stopped mid-chew and stared at me.
I bit back a smile, just as a big one spread across Abe’s face. I looked up at his dark brown hair in his regulation haircut and thought he had the biggest head I’d ever seen. Which would make sense, because while I was about six foot two, he towered over me at least six-five. I’d met his wife once or twice, and she couldn’t be more than five-foot-three and wondered briefly how that worked out for them in the bedroom.
Then I quickly told myself to stop thinking about anything relating to the bedroom. It had been a while, and I didn’t need to be thinking about sex or anything to do with a velvety, beautiful female form. I mentally chastised myself for not taking advantage of the advances of those two blondes in the bar from last weekend when I was there with Jared, or the redhead with the sports car. It seems I should be taking advantage of that shit – I was still in my twenties and had some wild oats to sow, or so I kept being told. But that just wasn’t me. I was still looking for Miss Right, and hoped one day she would drop in my lap. Because I sure as hell wasn’t having any luck finding her on my own.
As my weekend came to close, I packed my minimal belongings into the camouflaged pack and threw it into the trunk of my blue Mustang in the parking lot of the hot, dusty California Navy base I found myself on. This base was near Nevada, and with a three-plus hour drive ahead of me, I was anxious to get home. I had some things to attend to in regards to my computer business I was trying to get off the ground. After drills, I had gone back to the barracks to find my phone was blown up with emails and notifications about things that needed attention. Sometimes between the baseball, the Marines, and my business, I wondered if I was spreading myself too thin. But I realized how much I loved being busy and having things waiting for me. It was then it dawned on me why I didn’t have a woman in my life; I didn’t have time for one. Or I should say – I didn’t make time to try to find one. In between all these work obligations, I still had to carve out a few hours a week to get to the gym. It was a flat out necessity for two of my jobs.
As I drove home that day, I thought about my growing bank account and smiled. I was happy I was able to sock away so much dough. Tax season was coming but I would be ready for it. The reserve money from the government would pay for that, as I never touched that account, and used the funds from my small business and what little the minor league team paid me to pay my bills. Living in the San Francisco Bay Area was not cheap by any stretch of the imagination, but it was home, and I made it work.
But all the money I earned – it wasn’t going to keep me warm at night. It wasn’t going to console me when I was down. It wasn’t going to congratulate me on a job well done. It was just a bunch of numbers in a computer. And even though I’d been called an overachiever more than once, there was one thing I was yet to achieve – a true love for a lifetime that I was still looking for. She was out there, I just knew it. I had to find her, because clearly, the gods weren’t going to just drop her out of the sky.
***
“Jory, you need to get your shit together,” I ground out calmly, but really wanted to yell at my younger brother, who had his butt planted on the sofa at my parents’ house in the middle of the day on a Thursday.
He leaned over and spit a stream of brown dip into one of my dad’s San Francisco Giants plastic cups. “Get off my ass, dude.”
I blew out a breath and shook my head as I asked, “Why aren’t you at work?”
He set the cup down, his aqua colored eyes that matched my own boring into me. With a firm set to his jaw, he spat out, “The foreman said he didn’t need me today.”
I made a disapproving noise from my throat as I opened the fridge. “What? At that bullshit concrete laying construction company you pretend to work for?”
He craned his neck around from the sofa to look back at me, the remote still in his hand. “Hey, at least I have a job.”
I shut the fridge. With a green apple paused at my mouth ready to bite, I threw out, “Jory, you have a daughter to support. You can’t keep making excuses about there not being any work.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t
tell me how to parent. You don’t have any kids.”
I bit into the apple and swallowed down its tart sweetness. “And you act like you don’t have any. Step up your game, dude.”
He threw me a facetious grin. “You’re the pussy who couldn’t even hold on to Sama–”
I cut him off and pointed at him with my apple. “No, Jory, you don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to mention her damn name.”
He grunted, but made no other reply, except to turn the volume up on the obnoxiously loud car race he was watching.
I turned on my heel and slammed the front door, got into my car, and left, stuffing down the emotion Jory had elicited. I had come to my parents’ house just to hang out and unwind, catch up with my folks, but they were away in Santa Cruz for the weekend and the only person home was my shithead younger brother, who was irresponsible, immature, and just an all-around dick. He still crashed at my parents’ house because my mom, Peggy, was too attached to him. He was the baby of the family, and he damn sure acted like it.
There were four of us. My sister Darcy was the oldest. She lived with her husband and two kids here in town. She stayed home with the children while her husband Allen worked in Silicon Valley doing computer programming.
My brother Dalton also worked with computers, mostly fixing the interior guts of the machines, but he kind of only worked when he wanted. He spent his time tinkering with his acoustic guitar, hoping to become a musician instead. He even embraced the whole rocker scene. The big, round, black gauges that stretched out his earlobes and the nose piercing were definitely his way of standing out and being different. Our whole family had blonde hair in some shade, and he’d rebelled against that, too, dying his platinum locks a jet black and then sticking goop in it so it stuck up in every direction. He had also gotten multiple questionable tattoos all over his body, the letters “D-A-L-T” tattooed across the fingers of his left hand.