The thin barrier of her underwear isn’t enough. I can feel the heat between her legs, causing me to swell against the zipper of my shorts. She squirms on my lap, her breaths coming heavier when I tilt her head, my tongue trailing along her jawline. I nibble the spot below her ear then down to the crook of her neck, a place I have never forgotten makes her body respond to mine almost immediately.
My own body is on autopilot, not conversing with my head for our next steps. Simply rolling with the same I’ve always felt for her.
My dick is hardening with each swipe of her tongue, each caress of her slender fingers.
“Holy shit, Grady,” she gasps.
Her hand slides down my chest…
“Hey, why is the… oh shit. Sorry!” Drew’s voice cuts through the haze of lust and we both separate breathing heavily. Her chest is rising and falling like she’s just run a marathon.
Drew closes the door quickly and I expect Bri to be embarrassed, to jump off my lap and smooth her hair that now looks like the head of medusa thanks to my wandering hands. She surprises me, though, and stays right where she’s at. She looks at me under her dark lashes and swallows thickly.
The door creeks back open and his head pops in. “I told ya you had some explaining to do,” he jokes as I throw a pen at him. He cackles as his head jerks back, the pen missing its target. The door slams once again, my office becoming loud with its silence.
“That was… whoa.”
“I…” Suddenly at a loss, my words are swallowed by the heat of the moment we just shared.
“Yeah,” she agrees. To what, I have no clue.
“Now that, I’m not sorry for,” she grins, and I chuckle, shaking my head.
“If you’d have apologized, I would have known it was a bald-faced lie.”
Her dimples both pop and she stands up, but not before leaning forward and kissing me on the neck.
“Sorry I missed that spot earlier,” she says cheekily.
“We do need to talk,” I tell her once she’s a safe distance away from me.
Ridiculous… within the first day of being in her presence again, I’ve thrown all my anger, all the bitterness to the wayside.
But it’s not forgotten.
And I know, if there’s any chance of us working together for the next six weeks, of me holding on to my sanity, we both need to clear the air.
This can’t happen again.
“Yeah, we do. I apologize for getting carried away. That wasn’t my intention today.”
“No?”
“No, it wasn’t. I saw the picture,” she points to my old pickup that’s beyond recognition now, “and I, I don’t know, Grady. I lost all rational thinking. I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers.
A memory assaults me at her whisper. A dream, really, of the night I felt like I lost everything.
We’d been broken up for two years and it was the summer before my senior year at Southern Michigan State.
Staring up at the ceiling of the hospital room, I say goodbye to my family before being wheeled off to surgery. My mom still sniffling, my sisters telling me they’re coming back but with their bags because they’re going to sleep in my room with me. My dad’s eyes are rimmed with red. Mia’s still in her wedding dress, Cole in his tuxedo, jacket open, top buttons of his shirt undone as his tie dangles around his neck. Not exactly how either of them intended to spend the early morning hours the night after their wedding. Both promising me they’d be here when I get out of surgery.
Me telling them that’s bullshit and I’d be pissed if they didn’t go on their honeymoon.
I have a feeling they won’t listen.
Their honeymoon, luckily, is mostly refundable and they tell me as such.
I ask for a few minutes alone, and now I wonder if I should have.
I hear the door click closed and a tear escapes my eye.
If she would have been with me…
Bri’s been gone from my life for two years now, but I still think of her as a permanent fixture.
All day at the wedding, I felt like a part of me was missing.
When I walked down the aisle as Cole’s best man, I felt cheated.
Knowing she wouldn’t be walking down to join us at the altar of the church.
I stood beside my brother as he vowed to love and cherish Mia for the rest of his life, and I felt a punch to my gut because not only was she not standing beside Mia as she should have been, but she wasn’t even in the audience.
At the reception, it was impossible to not notice her absence.
To hear the murmurs amongst distant friends and family, wondering where Bri was.
Knowing usually where I was, she was also, even after all this time, it’s still confusing for people to realize we aren’t together.
And now, I lie in this hospital bed knowing if she had been with me tonight, she would no longer be with me.
A hard reality. The harshness of it hits me, finally understanding maybe this is the reason for her leaving me. Knowing she’s no longer mine is one thing, to even think about her not being in this world is an impossible reality for me to consider.
The doctor and nurses come in, telling me it’s time.
Pilon Fracture.
I broke both my tibia and fibula when the impact from the speeding car hit my pickup causing me to collide with the car stopped at the stop sign. I felt it immediately. Knew what this meant for the rest of my football career.
Cole’s a medical student.
He never shuts up about the things he sees in the ER while on rotation there.
Understands what the terminology means.
Right after he got here, he asked the doctors on staff what they discovered from the x-rays.
The look on his face was enough to tell me what I didn’t need to hear.
When I wake up in my hospital room, I’m not surprised to see a hand holding mine. What I’m surprised about is realizing the hand doesn’t belong to one of my sisters or my mom. Bri’s head is bent, resting on my hospital bed, her body curled up into a ball.
I lift my head, trying to get a better look at her. Dark, shiny hair up in one of those weird knotted buns on top of her head, one of my old t-shirts covering her upper body and a pair of black leggings tight on her legs. I feel wetness hit my hand, a sign she’s crying.
I lay my head back down and blow out a breath.
Pain radiates up my left leg, but the pain is a reminder I’m alive.
I shouldn’t be.
The accident was severe enough, and I saw the look on the EMT’s faces when they realized I was still breathing.
Relief, confusion, fear for how quickly they needed to work.
The person in the car I hit was injured—but nothing life threatening. Or life changing, unlike my injuries. Thankfully.
The driver of the other car?
The one who hit me…
Gone.
Must have been drunk.
Well over the limit.
Empty bottles in his car.
The scent of alcohol heavy in the air around him.
At least, that’s what I heard in both hushed tones and frantic shouts as the emergency workers were trying to save my life.
Three vehicles.
Three lives forever changed.
I try in vain to squeeze Bri’s hand.
Tears leak from my eyes as I once again realize if she was sitting next to me, there’s no way she would be here right now.
Crying for me.
I look down just as she lifts her head.
She stands, not releasing her hold on my hand.
“Hey,” she whispers, using her other hand to trace a finger over my forehead.
“Hey,” I croak out, my throat so sore it feels like I just got done swallowing gravel.
She bursts into tears, her body bending over in half.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry, Grady. I’m so, so sorry,” she cries.
I hold it to
gether for a few moments, staring at the woman who I still love so deep in every part of my soul.
The last twenty-four hours did not go at all as I had planned and it all comes out of me in one big rush.
Staring up at her green eyes, glossy from tears. Her cheeks splotchy.
She’s still so mother fucking beautiful.
"Bri…” like a pussy I begin to sob and lean toward her. She holds me in her arms as I cry my eyes out. “Who am I now?”
She sits back, holding my face in her hands. “You’re still Grady,” she says in a strong voice without missing a beat, instinctively knowing what’s rolling through my head.
“No. I’m not. I was the king on the field. The football superstar. Hometown hero. I’ll never play football again. Never feel the crunch of pads against my helmet. Never be the leader I once was. That's who I've always been, Bri. It's who I am."
Before I even finish what I’m saying, she’s shaking her head firmly. "No Grady, you are so much more. You've always been more. To me you've always been everything."
She holds me and cries right along with me until I fall asleep, the pain medications and exhaustion from the day taking over.
When I wake up, she’s gone, along with any trace of her presence.
Bri
I drop into the oversized chair of my temporary home just a few blocks from campus. My knees knock together as I relax into the cushion.
Before I left the field today, after the most unprofessional day of my career, Grady let me know he’d be calling me later tonight to discuss our next steps.
After rediscovering how amazing his kisses make me feel, I’m full speed ahead on the moving-forward train but I know we need to back up and start from the beginning.
I have two hours before we’re supposed to talk.
“Ugh!” I groan.
I walk to the bathroom and wash my face. I lean forward on the countertop, looking at the reflection in the mirror.
Do I look the same?
I don’t feel the same.
Or, if I do, it’s the same me I was a lifetime ago.
Being back in Grady’s arms, his taste on my lips, his scent surrounding me, I’m once again Bri.
After crying my eyes out, my face feels sticky and puffy, my lips still a little swollen, mascara smeared below my eyes.
I scrub my face and dry it before making my way into the small kitchen.
I pour a glass of iced tea and make some pasta for supper, curl my legs beneath me and settle in. I flip open my laptop and put the finishing touches on another story I’m working on at the moment. Simon made it clear that even though I would be doing Grady’s story over the next six weeks, I would still have to work on others as well.
Which isn’t a bad thing.
It gives me something to distract myself.
My phone ringing makes me jump so much I almost knock my laptop onto the floor.
I look down and see a much younger version of Grady smiling back up at me from the screen on my phone.
“Hey.”
“Hi. Does now work? To um, you know, talk?”
Listening to the nerves in his voice makes me feel only remotely better about the butterfly garden that recently took flight in my stomach.
“Yeah, now works.” I shift in my seat so I’m cross-legged, closing the lid on my computer and setting it gently on the floor.
“For the record, I don’t want to get into too much over the phone. I want to talk in person but we need time to devote to that.”
“I agree. But I can tell there’s something on your mind that you need to get out.”
He blows out a breath and I can hear movement in the background, an opening and closing of what sounds like a sliding door.
I wonder what his home is like and if I’ll ever see it.
His dad builds homes and he always said they would build us a house together. We talked often about what we wanted to live in one day—a gray two-story house with vertical siding, cream trim, rock accents, and a big backyard.
“You’re right – and I’ve been holding it in but need to say it,” he says, and I’m pretty sure I felt a butterfly flap its wings in my throat, feeling like I could throw up from the tone of his voice.
“Okay?”
“I’m not going to be able to forget the last six years.”
I expected that, just didn’t think I’d actually have to hear the words. It hurts. Badly. I fight against the feeling to fold into myself.
“I understand.” I answer.
“Do you?”
“I really do.”
“You hurt me,” he whispers.
If the earlier words sting, those three feel like he stabbed me in the heart. And I deserve them. I nod, even though he can’t see me. “I know,” I whisper back.
“What you did… not trusting me, our love. Not accepting me for who I am and putting your father’s mistakes on me, it wasn’t okay.”
I nod again.
I stand up, anxiety pouring through my veins as the overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia settles in, so I walk out onto my deck in the backyard.
The warm, fresh, night air greets me, wrapping around me.
“Did I lose ya?” he asks, and I wonder if there’s meaning behind his question more than just my silence.
Always the double meaning.
“No. I’m here. Processing.”
“I need to be honest. I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear it.”
“I want you to be honest with me, Grady.”
“But?”
Sitting on a crappy plastic chair, I tuck my knees to my chest.
“I made a mistake. A lot of them.”
“I’m no saint, Bri.”
A humorless laugh bursts from my throat. “Coulda fooled me.”
“Yeah, well. Don’t take this wrong but, you’ve not been around me for a while.”
“Unless you left your soulmate behind, made him feel like his love wasn’t worth it, spiraled out of control after your mom held your hand when you miscarried a baby, a baby who would have been a symbol of the love you know could have never been matched with another person, then I’m not sure your mistakes come close to mine.”
Shit. Ohhhh shit. I didn’t mean to say that. Not over the phone, anyway. What the hell is wrong with me? I had a plan. A plan that did not include a phone conversation but rather discussing it in person. He also made it perfectly clear we weren’t using this time over the phone to get into too much. It’s what he deserves and by the silence I’m met with on the other end of the phone, I’m pretty sure he agrees.
He’s silent for so long I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure the call wasn’t dropped.
“What did you just say?” His voice is quiet, low.
Fresh hot tears hit my cheeks again. Apparently, it’s all I do anymore.
Cry.
I sniff and lay my cheek against my knees and admit something I know I should have told him years ago. “Shit, Grady. I didn’t mean to discuss this over the phone. I wanted to tell you in person. I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t believe this, Bri! What the actual hell? You didn’t think I deserved to know… oh gee, before tonight? Over the phone?”
“I’m sorry! I promise I planned to tell you.”
“It was six fucking years ago, Bri! Six! Do you know how I spent the last six years? It wasn’t keeping secrets from you. Every morning I would wake up wondering if it was the day you’d finally reach out and every single night I’d go to bed disappointed. And now… now I find out you kept something like this from me?”
“I’m sorry. I know. It was wrong. I should have…”
“You’re damned right you should have.” He whispers out a curse word and then, “I apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“Don’t. Yell if you need to. Trust me, I reacted far worse.”
“Shoulda been there,” he grunts.
“I’m so incredibly sorry, Grady,” I whisper.
He sniffs,
taking a deep breath in at the same time. When he speaks, his voice is full of heartbreak and sadness. “Why are you sorry? For not telling me?”
“Well, yes, but also for it happening.”
“Was it your fault?” he asks, the calm suddenly hitting after the storm.
The question of the century. “I’ll never know.”
“I’m not an expert, but I can’t imagine a scenario where you caused it to happen.”
“I wasn’t… well, I wasn’t taking care of myself after we...”
“Wasn’t your fault,” he says softly, interrupting what I was about to say.
There’s no way to know why I—we—lost the baby. I found out I was pregnant about a week after I broke things off with Grady. I tried what felt like a thousand times to reach out to him, but my body wouldn’t catch up with my head. I knew I should have told him. My biggest regret is that I never did. If I had, maybe things would have been different. Maybe I wouldn’t have been too heartbroken to carry a child if we were together again. Maybe nothing would have stopped the inevitable from happening. I’ll never know. “Are you, um, are you okay?”
“No.” Always honest. I don’t think he’s ever lied to me, aside from trying to hide the fact that he wanted me as more than a friend when we were in high school. Not really a lie, though.
I blow out a breath. “Yeah, me neither.”
“I’ll repeat. This might have been one of the things you should have told me a long time ago, Bri.”
“I agree. I should have.”
“And definitely not on the fucking phone. Were you scared of my reaction?”
“No! I promise! That wasn’t it. I wasn’t thinking straight and I knew you needed to know.” I pause and blow out a breath. “When you said you were going to call me tonight, I thought you just wanted to clear the air about the story. What your expectations are. Then… I don’t know. I apparently didn’t know how to stop talking.”
“I’m gonna need a little bit of time to digest all this. And I need the entire story but I can’t do this now. Not over the phone.”
“I get it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I… you’re okay with me continuing with the story?”
Silence fills the other side of my phone, my heart racing while I wait for his answer. It’s not the story I’m concerned with. Yes, I want to do it but for more reasons than it being an amazing opportunity. The thought of not being around him… I shake my head. I can’t even go there. This job, it’s my second chance. I’ve tried living my life without him and it doesn’t work.
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