by Nikki Wild
“Go on.”
“I don’t know. You’d need to be creative. Maybe something like Chez Louie, scandal free since nineteen eighty-three.”
“Hey, I kinda like that.”
“You have a big enough social following along with mine and the newspaper account to get the ball rolling, I think.”
“That’s actually a damn good idea,” he said excitedly. “Can you…”
“Already on it,” I interrupted as I sat down at my computer.
I searched my archives for an old photo of Chez Louie when it first opened two years earlier. When I found the folder containing everything that had been shot, I saw an archived photo of Toby and his parents.
He stood in between his mother and father in the photograph, his hands over their shoulders. I opened the photo and cropped it to zoom in on them and the Chez Louie sign. As I worked, my love for Toby poured out of me.
Even if he never wanted to speak to me again, I needed to do everything possible to hide anything negative about him.
The best way to do that was to start-up a campaign backed by people who supported him. The power of social media might help.
“That’s brilliant,” Billy said, standing behind me.
“Ain’t it, though?”
I smiled. While it wouldn’t be enough for Toby to want me back, it might undo some of the damage caused by me leaving those sensitive files out in the open.
“You go,” Billy said in a supportive tone, rubbing my shoulders.
“Stop. You’re messing me up.”
He pulled his hands away.
“You do your thing.”
“Will it work?”
“You have about ten thousand fans and followers, right?”
“Yeah.”
“With my two-hundred thousand, that’s a good start.”
“The main newspaper account has half a million. We need to use that one with a brilliant hashtag.”
“Who’s managing editor tonight?” he asked, peering out at the other cubicles in the newsroom.
“Nancy, I think.”
“She’s going to say no.”
“That’s why I’m not going to ask her.”
“Haley, you can’t. You’ll be written up or fired.”
“It’s worth the risk. I’ve done enough damage. It’s time to make things right. You should go now if you don’t want to be involved.”
“Are you crazy? I’m right here with you. Let me know when the photo is ready to blast out.”
“Give me another five minutes.”
I stared at the screen in front of me, manipulating the text on the photo to make it pop.
Would it work? I wasn’t sure, but I had to try.
Toby meant the world to me.
My cellphone rang. As I glanced over at it on the desk, the battery died. Instead of stopping to plug it in, I kept working, wanting to get something spreading online before Monday Night Football the next day.
Twenty-Seven
Toby
After Haley left, I paced back and forth in my living room, pumped full of energy. I called Coach Harris. When he didn’t answer, I went upstairs to get my tablet to check the damage online.
Most of the idiots calling for me to be cut from the team didn’t understand the whole story. I wasn’t able to come out and say my ex-wife had done it to me because I had no proof.
Upstairs, I grabbed the tablet and sat down on my bed. As soon as I turned it on and read the message boards at ESPN. I glanced over the comments. They were getting uglier.
How the fuck could she do this? Either of them. I needed someone smart and discreet.
I stood up, still holding the tablet, and headed downstairs for a glass of water. At the bottom of the stairs, I saw a new thread pop up with the hashtag #ChezLouieLives.
“What the hell?” I muttered as I tapped the screen and opened the thread.
My eyes were immediately drawn to an old photograph of me at my parents at the Grand Re-Opening for Chez Louie two years earlier. Who posted the photo? I wondered as I scrolled down the page.
The comments were surprisingly positive, saying that the naked photo leaked by an anonymous person wasn’t a big deal and that helping the local community mattered more.
I flipped over to Twitter and saw the hashtag trending on their front page. Oh, shit! Emails poured into my inbox again, this time with more positive subjects – at first.
The trolls soon went into overdrive, causing #TobyCock to rise up out of nowhere as a popular hashtag in the emails flooding my inbox and the posts on Twitter and Facebook.
“Fuck,” I said, throwing the tablet on the carpeted floor.
Unsatisfied with the thump, I turned and kicked the nearest object, which turned out to be the stairway bannister. Pain flashed through my foot as my foot made contact.
“Fuck!” I yelled again, much louder.
My toe throbbed. I almost fell to the floor when I tried to put all my weight on it.
While most people would have been able to get a ride to the hospital or call an ambulance, I did not want a fresh wave of memes to hit the internet about me.
I stumbled forward toward the door, stepping on the tablet and cracking the screen. What the hell is going on today? Am I cursed or something? I took another step.
“You got this,” I told myself then thought, call Haley!
I threw the idea away without giving it a second thought. She was the one who had gotten me into this mess by taking those damn photos in the first place.
When I made it to the front door, the pain in my big toe worsened. Even if I somehow got back on the team before the playoffs, I’d never be able to play with a broken toe.
Had I broken it? I needed to get to my private doctor. Coach Harris would go ballistic if he found out I’d hurt myself too. The Browns would be the laughingstock of the league.
Step by pain-filled step, I walked down my front steps and toward the Maserati. Even with favoring my left foot, the pain in the right one intensified as I hobbled closer to the driveway.
You got this, I told myself, breaths coming quick and shallow as I fought through the pain. I’d done it many other times during games, but the pain-killers they gave me had made it tolerable.
The pain coursing through my body every time I stepped down on the foot was on another level. A lifetime later, I reached the car and got behind the steering wheel.
Too bad they don’t have those self-driving cars yet, I thought as I pressed the button to start the car. When I put my right front on the brake to get the car in gear, I cried out.
“Fuck!”
Using my left foot to hold the brake down, I put the car in reverse. My heart pounded as I gingerly disengaged the brake. The car shot backward, freaking me out.
I stomped down with my right foot, forgetting it was still over the gas pedal. The pain and my surprise at the sudden speed caused me to twist in my seat.
When I grabbed the steering wheel, the car cut to the left and slammed straight into an old oak on my front lawn. I took a deep breath. Two seconds later, the airbag went off.
“Fuck!”
Can this fucking day get any worse?
I smashed the airbag down. The pain in my toe increased tenfold as I reached into my pocket for my phone. After a few swipes and taps, I put the phone to my ear.
Come on, Haley. Answer.
The call went straight to her voicemail. Could I blame her for turning her phone off? I’d yelled at her like a total asshole. I’d shut the door in her face like a prick.
My only real friends were on the team, and they would be under orders from Coach Harris not to talk with me until he decided what to do with me.
I was screwed.
Twenty-Eight
Haley
The dead battery on my phone bugged the hell out of me, so I plugged it in. As soon as I did, I saw a missed call from Toby. Was he okay? I called his number.
“Haley?” he answered, sounding dazed.
�
��Are you drunk?” I asked.
“No, I hurt my toe.”
“Oh no, are you okay?”
“No, not really. I tried to drive myself to the doctor, but I crashed the Maserati into a fucking tree in my front yard. I’m currently being suffocated by my airbag.”
“Oh no, are you okay?” I repeated, dazed myself.
“I will be if you come and rescue me. The last thing I want to do is call an ambulance. It’ll be all over the fucking news in ten minutes.
“I’m on my way.”
Billy glanced up at me as I stood.
“What’s going on?”
“Toby hurt himself. Keep it on the down low, okay?”
“Yeah, of course. You going to get him?”
I nodded.
“See you at home later,” he said, flashing me a smile. “Hey, tell Toby he should tweet about it if it works. Could get #ChezLouieLives to go viral.”
“Yeah, I should probably tell him I’m behind that.”
“And me,” he said.
“Of course,” I said, gathering my things. “I’ve got to go.”
I waved as I walked away, heading toward the parking lot to go save Toby. Or at least try.
As I stood next to his hospital bed, staring down at him, I realized how much I loved him.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said as I stroked his arm.
“I’m feeling fine right now.”
He stared at me with his glassy eyes.
“Morphine will do that to you.”
“Good medical plan,” he said.
“And a good doctor.”
Dr. Jensen walked into the room holding what looked like an x-ray of Toby’s foot.
“What’s the news, doc?” Toby asked.
I squeezed his arm, staring at the doctor.
“It’s not broken,” he said in a calm, monotone voice. “You bruised it bad and broke the nail clear off, but you’ll live.”
When he mentioned the toe nail, I winced in empathy.
“Hey, as long as you didn’t cut it off, doc.” Toby laughed. “It’s not like I’m playing anyway.”
“Get some rest,” the doctor said then left.
“He needs to work on his bedside manner,” I said.
“Doc Jensen? He’s a good man.”
Toby grinned, his eyes closing.
“You should get some rest.”
“I love you, Haley.”
“That’s the drugs talking. I messed up bad with the photos.”
“Not your fault,” he said softly. “It’ll all work out. All in good time, you know?”
As his eyes closed, I wanted to wake him and apologize again. The thought of losing him terrified me.
I stared at him a few more minutes, watching his chest rise and fall.
I glanced over at Toby in the passenger seat after stopping at a red light. He moaned then giggled.
“Still feeling good, are you?”
“The pain is gone, and you’re here. I’m doing damn good. It’s not like I would be playing the rest of the season anyway.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I said. “We started a positive campaign about you. Hashtag Chez Louie Lives.”
“That was you? I saw that before I got mad and kicked the bannister.”
“Why did you kick the bannister anyway?”
His sudden honesty surprised me. Was it the drugs?
“Because the tablet didn’t smash,” He replied, laughing.
I reached over and patted his thigh a few times.
“Careful,” he said as I pulled my hand away.
“What? You okay?”
“You’re going to wake it up.”
“It?” I asked. “You haven’t named it?”
“No, it’s just it. You know, my dick.”
I smiled, my eyes on the road ahead.
He pointed out the windshield.
“Hey, that’s my house.”
“Did you want me to take you somewhere else?”
“No, this is good.”
I looked over at his bandaged foot on the floorboard.
“You’re the save the Chez Louie person, huh? I paid Billy to help me, I probably should have told you that.”
“He helped too,” I said as I pulled into the driveway.
The tow-company I’d called had put his wrecked car into the three-car garage attached to his house. I promised them an extra hundred dollars if they kept quiet about it.
I turned to him after stopping the car. He smiled.
“Still high?” I asked.
“Not too bad. Why?”
“I wanted to talk about something serious.”
“Ah, and you don’t want me cracking jokes?”
“We’ve got something special here, Toby, and I don’t want us to ruin it.”
“Me either.”
“Let me help you get inside.”
I opened the door and got out. Walking around the car, I looked inside and saw him staring straight ahead. He needed to be in bed resting.
“Here we go,” I said as I opened the passenger door.
He grabbed my hand to steady himself as he stood, swaying back and forth slightly.
“You okay?”
“I got this,” he said, putting his arm around my back.
I held him up as best as I could as we made our way to the front of his house. He unlocked the door then turned before opening it.
“Thanks for coming to save me.”
“No problem. I’ll see you later,” I said, looking up at him from the bottom of the porch.
“You’re leaving me?”
“I’ve got to go,” I insisted. “I’ll call you later, okay? Get some rest.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, then turned to go inside.
I hid my smile as I watched him close the door behind him.
Maybe everything would be okay after all…
Twenty-Nine
Toby
I stood and surveyed my living room. The bannister of doom came into view. While comfortable, I had no companionship, a person to love and be loved by.
Hearing a knock on the door, I turned around. Had she forgotten something? I opened it, carefully resting my weight on the aluminum crutch.
“Hey, I changed my mind and want to stay.”
She smiled, a look of lust and trust in her eyes.
“Come inside.”
I hobbled backward.
“Be careful,” she said, putting her arm around my waist. “Let’s get you in bed.”
“Yes, Nurse Haley. You going to give me a sponge bath?” I teased.
“If you want one.”
I slipped an arm around her for support as we carefully climbed the carpeted stairs.
Neither of us said a word as we wound up in my bedroom.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she said.
As I propped myself up with the crutch, she slipped my pants down. The shirt proved more difficult, but we managed to get it off as well.
“Get in bed. I’ll be right back.”
I watched as she walked to the master bathroom, her hips sensually swaying back and forth. She had returned with a bowl and a sponge by the time I crawled into bed.
“You’re serious,” I said, smiling at her.
She stopped next to the bed. I took a deep breath as she set the bucket down on the carpet and dipped the sponge in. Water dripped from it as she squeezed.
I stared at her beautiful face as her delicate hands pressed the wet sponge against my flat, hard stomach. She sensually moved it up my chest, studying my body.
My heart rate increased as she moved the sponge lower while looking straight into my eyes. Those green eyes. The sponge moved to the left, just missing my cock.
It slid over my thigh, all the way down the leg. As it ran up the other, my breathing increased. I saw my bandaged toe but felt no pain as she caressed higher.
This time, she lightly ran the sponge over my cock, causing it to twitch as blood raced be
tween my legs.
She lifted my cock with one hand and gently wiped it with the sponge in her other. I laced my hands behind my head, unable to take my eyes off her.
The curiosity, wonder and joy on her face made me smile. After washing my entire cock, she straightened up and smiled.
I heard the sponge splash into the water. She stripped off her Pixies tee-shirt. Her breasts popped out, wonderful as ever, somehow seeming even more beautiful and prefect than before.
As I watched, caught up in the moment, she walked around to the other side of the bed before crawling onto the mattress. I took a deep breath, the anticipation killing me.
“Let me know if it hurts too much,” she said, running her hand over my thigh.
I sighed, more than content. Between the drugs and excitement, my toe was the last thing on my mind. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft of my cock.
Her eyes staring into mine, she tugged a few times before bending over and swirling her tongue around the tip. My heart rate went up a notch as my worries slipped away.
Teasing me with her hand and mouth at the same time, she made me forget everything wrong in my life and the world in general.
My cock pushed past her lips and into her mouth. I stared down at her as my chest rose and fell quickly. All my attention focused on the way she sucked my thick cock.
The world wasn’t big enough to contain my love for her in that moment. I moaned as she worked her head up and down, those wonderfully wet lips pressed tightly against my skin.
The physical suction excited me, but the hunger in her eyes did so even more. I loved the way she unselfishly gave me pleasure, and I wanted to give her some of the same.
I placed my hand between her legs, feeling her wetness. She moved slightly, giving me better access as I slipped a finger into her pussy so tight and right in every way.
As I fucked her with one digit then two, she sucked harder and faster, bringing me to the very edge. Every time I got too close, she moved her mouth off my cock.
We went back and forth, pushing each other to the very edge then backing off, building up the sexual tension to unimaginable heights. She sat up and stared into my eyes.