by E. A. James
A blonde woman stuck the mic in his face as soon as he pulled his helmet off his head. His curly black hair fell over his eyes, and he smiled while pushing it back.
“Liam, how do you feel about your performance today? You were killing it out there.”
His black paint framed his sweaty hard brown, and his teeth gleamed white into the camera.
“I felt really good throwing the ball today. I was able to see the field really well. I have to give credit to the offensive line they were the ones really making things happen for me, keeping the pass rush off of me to make some plays out there. If it wasn't for the blocks they produced, I probably wouldn't have had the game I did.”
Good looking and humble too, what kind of man was this? I sighed and continued writing as the night crept in.
CHAPTER TWO
Houston Texas – 9:32 a.m.
It is very disorienting waking up in a hotel room. As many as I’d been in over the years, I should know their interior more than I knew my own home, but that wasn’t the case. I had to blink the sleet from my eyes and look around.
Where the hell was I?
Then it all came rushing back. Houston. I looked around, and my eyes landed on the logo on the free notepad they leave in hotel’s room. Holiday Inn. I wasn’t alone. I shut my eyes attempting to remember the night before but it was just a blur of colors and good times.
Ok, what about the brown haired girl on top of me.
She was pretending to be sleep. I could tell, her breathing wasn’t deep enough. I understood the logic. The longer she slept, the longer she could lay on me. At least, that’s what she thought, but alas, this party had to come to an end.
I moved to get up, intentional shaking her from being on top of my chest. Her name was something like Bonnie. My brain was still trying to piece together where I picked her up from.
“Morning,” she said seductively, trying to attach herself to me again. Not today. I just woke up, and I was already tired. Jesus, is this what it feels like to be old?
“You have to go,” I said planting my feet on the floor.
She was as enthusiastic to stay as the women before her were.
“But I was thinking we could have a morning recap of last night.”
Don’t they all? Every single one of them, in more ways than one, try to stay but few have succeeded and they all end up leaving…even Maddie.
“No can do Bonnie.” I shrugged her off to brush my teeth. What was it with women wanting sex before they brushed their teeth anyway? I don’t know where your mouth has been. Aside from being on my cock last night, it was suspect.
“It’s Shawnee!” She actually had the nerve to sound angry. Tomato, tamato girl. She knew what it was when she offered herself up in front of the locker room.
I wasn’t going to apologize. She couldn’t make me feel bad. I already accepted what I was. She couldn’t change my colors any more than I could attempt to turn her into a housewife. I love women and women love me. I lost count of how many I had slept with a long time ago. It’s a win-win sleeping with me as far as I’m concerned. They can say they slept with an NFL player, even if no one believes them, and I can get a night of satisfaction. Most women like the fact there are no strings attached. It wasn’t hidden knowledge that I slept with different women. They knew I was a traveling athlete, what about that screamed husband material? When I was out, I kept a different one on my arm almost every day of the week. I was careful and, most importantly, I never lied to a girl. I'd always tell them straight: I don't want a relationship, and all I'm interested in is having fun. No relationship, no stress. Don’t get me wrong - I love women, and I try my best to respect them, but as far as was concerned, I had already met and lost “the one.” No need in repeating that painful experience.
I started throwing the little bit of clothes I brought with me into my suitcase. Suddenly I had the urge to get out of here. Despite the benefits of endless companionship as an athlete it was getting old.
“Where are you going?” she asked alarmed.
“Small Town.”
“Where the hell is that?”
I smiled, happy that she didn’t know where it was. I was going home, back to my shitty little town where nothing ever happens. This fast lane life was slowly killing me…not that Small Town didn’t have its own share of choking memories.
I froze, holding my bag and thought about her.
Blond hair, big smile, infectious laugh and bangs that hid bright blue eyes. Her eyes were my favorite feature about her. She could play any instrument her fingers touched. I remember she was going to the most prestigious music conservatory in the country. Some place I had never heard of. I tried to find her, I tried to keep in touch through my little sister Cara, but she slipped away. Like sand running through my fingers, she was gone, but my heart still bore remnants that she was there. I could still imagine her smell and the soft skin under my hands the one time we made love.
Every man has the “one that got away.” Maddie Lattimore was mine. For some reason, she pushed me away, and I didn’t realize that I loved her until it was too late. Maybe I was too young, maybe I just had no idea what love really is…but now, four years later, I knew that I loved her. I probably always will, too. I didn’t realize what I had until it was gone.
She told me she was betraying her friendship to Cara by being with me. That our relationship wasn’t worth risking their friendship. How could I argue with that? I never even thought to ask Cara. I didn’t want to cause any unnecessary arguments. Cara had been known to act like the older sibling and if she knew that Maddie broke my heart, she would have tried to break that girl’s nose. It didn’t matter now though, that was the past and I had to put it all behind me. Even if she was the only girl to make me feel something, the past was about to meet the present for this wedding.
CHAPTER THREE
Small Town, Texas – 8:12 a.m.
Today’s the day. I get to see my old best friend and meet her fiancée. My hands are shaking so bad that I can’t even pretend I’m not nervous after I nearly gouged my eye out with eyeliner and dropped my foundation twice. I had my best black dress on and more makeup than I wear to church, what was I doing?
Cara cajoled me into having lunch at her parents’ house, so here I was, in front of one of the only mansions in Small Town.
She screamed when she saw me and jumped into my arms.
“Maddie!!!”
Well when you’re greeted like that, it’s hard not to feel guilty.
“Hey, Car.”
“Oh my God, let me look at you,” she says, stepping back. “Turn around!”
“No! I am not a car at an auction.”
“You’re so silly girl. It’s been four years, and it’ll probably be four more after this wedding situation, so I need to lay my eyes on you. Make sure I have a good memory to hold on to.”
She walked around me, circling me and eyeing every part of my body. I felt like I was under a microscope and not only could she see all my flaws but my fears.
“Girl you finally put on some pounds,” she exclaims slapping my behind. It actually jiggled. “You used to cry bloody Mary at the cheerleaders who had curves in all the right places. I see someone finally filled out.”
If only she knew, this was baby weight.
“Well look at you,” I said trying to remove the attention from myself. “Marrying a Hollywood man.”
Cara blushed. She actually blushed!
“Wow. This must be serious. Where is the mystery, man?”
She blushed again and ran around the corner. Pulling a tall, thin man by the hand, we were formally introduced. “Maddie, I’d like you to meet Blake Witherspoon.”
He looked every bit of a Hollywood producer. Even his name sounded Hollywood. His hair was slicked down with gel, and his facial hair was perfectly groomed. He was too well put together, nothing like the cowboys around here. Standing beside him, I could see Cara was worldlier too. She wore bright red lipstick and had on
false eyelashes. They belonged together. They would never fit in here in Small Town.
“Hello,” he said, grabbing my hand to shake.
“Cara Witherspoon, you’ll even sound famous,” I said. She giggled infectiously.
“So tell me how you two met.”
“Well we met on a layover flight on our way back to the city.” Cara had moved out to LA right after graduation. “It’s funny because I noticed him while we were waiting at the gate. But you know me.” I did know Cara, she hated making the first move, as bold and fearless as she was, she still believed in a man taking control.
“When I got to my seat, I saw that the seat beside me was empty and thought, how awesome would it be if he ended up next to me? Sure enough, a family in his row wanted to sit together so he asked the flight attendant if he could take the empty seat beside me. We spent the entire flight talking. By the end of the flight, we exchanged phone numbers. A week later he asked me out to dinner. Since I had just moved into the area, he took my work address. We found out we worked right down the street from each other. He’s a movie producer and you know I’m a scriptwriter. It was just meant to be,” she squeaked.
“That’s so sweet.”
She blushed and pulled him closer. “He’s perfect.” He leaned down and kissed her nose, and I tried not to look more like a loser.
“So tell us about you.”
We walked from the foyer to the dining room, and the food was beginning to be served.
“Oh gracious, I haven’t even seen the ring!”
She gladly extended her hand and almost blinded me. It was huge.
“It’s beautiful,” I said honestly.
“Isn’t it?” she sighed.
I hoped we could continue with the focal point change over food.
“So how long have you been dating?”
“About a year, you little procrastinator. Tell me what’s up with you?”
“Nothing’s up with me. I’m boring and doing nothing with my life. You’re more entertaining. Tell me what you’ve got planned for the wedding.”
Those were the magic words. Cara went on a tangent about summer colors, flowers and gift registries. Bless Blake, he seemed excited to talk about it with her. I didn’t have to say anything for the rest of lunch.
My nerves were at their ends, trying to figure out the best way to get away. If Cara was here, that meant Liam was on his way, and I did not want to be around when that happened.
“Listen Car, I have to go.”
“Oh but you just got here,” she whined.
“I have to work,” I said standing.
“Well wait a second. Here.” She handed me a very fancy invitation. White with black lace embellishments and silver wording.
You are formally invited to the wedding of Cara Shields and Blake Witherspoon. May 18, 2016. 2:00 pm.
“I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can! I’ve already sent the rest out but since I didn’t know your address, I decided it was best by hand.”
“Well if you insist,” I mumble, throwing it into my knockoff bag.
“The rehearsal dinner is in three days,” she calls out from the door.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be busy,” I call over my shoulder. There was no way I was getting close enough for people to ask questions. The truth will set you free they say, but I think they’re lying. The truth will hurt more people than my avoidance will.
“It’s at 6:00!” She practically screamed as I climbed into my old Tahoe.
“Please be there!”
…Not if I can help it.
I might have made it through the day by the skin of my teeth but I knew Liam would be in attendance at the rehearsal dinner, and I didn’t want to be anywhere he was as long as I could avoid it.
I could talk myself through the wedding and hide out in the back, but a rehearsal dinner was formal with fewer people so I would be avoiding that rehearsal dinner, at all costs.
CHAPTER FOUR
I returned to a house filled with people I don’t know. Of course, I’m greeted with fanfare….I am celebrity after all, or so they say. I don’t even want to see, greet them or talk to anyone but I have to play my role and be the celebrity - greet people, shake hands, and be the Liam they think I am.
“Liam, good game last week!”
“So good to see you, Liam.”
These people all thought they knew me….and in fairness, could probably remember every milestone I achieved better than I could. Although strange, it was endearing. Small towns tended to be like that. It was overwhelming, though, because I put Small Town on the map. The city was on my back and they were counting on me to make it proud. In the city, people asked for autographs, but they knew to keep their distance. Here, it seemed like I was the mayor and everyone just wanted a piece of me.
“My baby!” my mother called, running down the marble stairs.
“Mom what is all that in the back yard?” I say bending so she can kiss my head.
“It’s for Cara. You know she refuses to wed anywhere else.” She turned to walk away, expecting me to follow. “On one hand, I’m flattered. You really did have a beautiful house built for us. On the other hand, she’s driving me up the damn wall citing off all these ridiculous needs for decorations.”
I could only laugh, my mother, the perfect southern belle, never cursed unless she was angry.
“What kind of things Mother?”
“You know how hard it is to get anything sent here?” I opened my mouth to continue, but she kept talking. “Literally everything!”
“There are no white roses here! You can't find any damn orange flowers or whatever they’re called. You can’t find them here!”
My mother, Eleanor Fitzgerald Shields was a force to be reckoned with. Standing just under 5’2” in heels and with bright blond hair, she didn’t take even a little bit from anyone. She had no problems grabbing ears, slapping foreheads and getting her way. My father, Reginald, loved her so much he tolerated her not taking his name.
“So tell her Ma. Just tell her no.” She spun on her heels using the momentum from walking to face me. “
“You ever tried telling that girl no?”
Her Texan accent was more prominent the angrier she got.
“Yes, I have. Remember the time I babysat and told her she couldn’t have ice cream?”
She began walking again, ordering the placement of things and laughed. “Yes, I remember. She told you if she couldn’t have ice cream then nobody could.”
“Exactly. She took every last carton of ice cream out of the freezer, even the deep freezer outside, and set the cartons outside to melt.” I chuckled remembering.
“We didn’t find those damn things until the next day, and the entire back yard had all kinds of animals and ants.”
We laughed together as I looked at the change in our backyard. There were flower buds tied along the back of the seats. There were tables along the side of the yard for photos and heirlooms. The other tables were for food and the bar. The silverware was tied with lines in burlap. Ironically, as fancy as both Cara and Blake are, their background wedding was properly Texan, with the right dash of country.
There were mason jars of fresh flowers on top of plain, white-ironed linens. A sunflower pomander dangled from an outdoor chandelier for a charming twist along the lights decorating the tops of the gates. Cute wooden signs stood out in corners, with chalk writings of the intended destination. Some said food. Others said dance floor. I don’t want to know how much this was costing. Knowing Cara and her rich new boyfriend, it was probably a fortune they could afford.
It was cute but not something I really cared about.
“I’m going upstairs, Mama.”
“Wait. Wouldn’t you like some tea?”
I could only shake my head. “No ma’am. I’ll be down in time for dinner.”
“That’s my boy,” she said patting my cheek before I left. “And tell your father he better sign that check or else I�
��m coming in there.”
I already knew where she was sending me. My father lived in basically two places within our home. His man cave, which had a small putting green, or his office - where he pretended he wasn’t retired. On my way to find him, I ran into the bride-to-be herself.
“Cara!”
“Big brother!” She said running into my arms.