Pump Fake

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by Lila Price


  I start to refuse.

  “Please?” she asks.

  Before I can start to weep at the kindness and love of my family—I’m lucky to have them, lucky that they’re always here for me—I grab the mail and go to my room. I shut the door behind me, staring at that one mystery envelope. Unable to stop myself, I open it.

  What I see inside makes me bite my lip.

  Even though I didn’t finish out the contract with Eli, he’s sent me a check for the rest of my fifty thousand dollar payment.

  As tears blind me, I rip it up and throw it in the trash where it belongs.

  I’m lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling after cleaning another house by rote. I’m not even sure which day it is since they all blend together. The only thing that makes this one different from the one before is that Ivy is standing above me, yelling at me.

  “Are you even listening?” She leans down to shake my leg. “All Mom’s medical bills are paid off!”

  I turn over, away from her. Nothing is registering. It’s all a haze, and I like it that way. I don’t have to think about how my chest aches. How I ache.

  Ivy smacks my hip. “I’m telling you that Eli wiped out our debts after you broke up, you idiot!”

  “You’re wrong,” I murmur into the mattress. “He could give a shit about me. Or us.” I’m sure he’s far too busy winning games to even remember his fake fiancé. Why should he?

  The Rustlers have been on a streak since I left Eli. I don’t try to follow the sports stories, but Vegas is in the grip of Rustler mania as they make an amazing run for a spot in the playoffs. It’s the first time in years the team could earn their way into the Super Bowl.

  And Eli is kicking ass to get there.

  He’s even getting back his endorsements, and fans are lining up behind him. They don’t seem to care why he and his great, fake love broke up. They’re just happy she’s gone.

  “Listen up! There’s more!” Ivy plops in front of me onto the bed. “But I’m not gonna tell you until you pick yourself up and start living life again.” She pokes at me. “Get. Up. This isn’t the Jen I know. This other one has been around way too long, and she’s starting to scare me.”

  I look up to see the sadness in her eyes and, without really thinking, I slowly rise to a sitting position. I don’t want to disappoint Ivy anymore. One look at her and I realize that I’m tired of being this person who can’t find a reason to move, because I truly do have a reason right here. My sweet little sister, and I don’t want her to hurt, too.

  Ivy beams at me—my reward.

  “First,” she says, “you’re gonna prepare to go back to school as soon as you can make arrangements to be there.”

  Even though the prospect is dull and empty, she’s right. My scholarship is still valid, and that means the money Eli gave me upfront can pay for another employee to take my place cleaning houses. The thought of putting my energies into helping people, getting through med school, finding a cure someday for Parkinson’s gives me a little more energy. I smile at Ivy, resting my hand on her arm.

  “You’re right,” I say.

  “Okay.” Her eyes are glistening. “And now that you’re off your butt, I’ve got interesting news.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t kill me, but I checked your texts.” She holds up her hands like a suspect in a crime movie. “You left your phone in the family room!”

  And I’d given her my password one day when she thought she’d lost her phone. Again, I can’t even care.

  “Anyway,” she says, “Courtney Dexter says that the wives found out the identity of the ‘anonymous source’ who was telling the press that you were acting like a diva and that the team and the wives hated you.”

  I haven’t thought about this in ages, but it slowly starts to dawn on me. I should at least care about those “anonymous leaks.”

  With every breath I start to take again, I do.

  Yeah, I do care.

  Ivy widens her eyes. “It was Lulu Preston. What a bitch, right? Courtney heard her gloating on her phone during a game and she called her out on it.”

  Somehow, I’m not surprised. “I should’ve known.”

  “Let’s take revenge on her, Jen, huh? You up for some of that?”

  Although the prospect perks me up ever so slightly, I don’t have that much energy yet. I kind of even feel sorry for the baby-waby spoiled brat. Still, Ivy is smiling at me, and I realize that she might not be taking this revenge talk seriously. She’s just trying to get me going.

  “One thing at a time,” I say to her, squeezing her arm. “Okay?”

  And I mean that. I’ll tackle one thing at a time until I’m Jen again.

  As the Rustlers bust into the playoffs and start winning those games, too, I do as Ivy says and arrange to go back to school. I clean houses. My energy increases every day, but there are still the nights.

  Even now, I miss Eli. My traitorous body wants him, and so does my idiotic heart. But I doubt he’s doing the same thing, lying awake at night, feeling hollow without me around, and I’m going to get over the craving for him soon. It’ll take time, yet I’ll do it.

  Then comes the night when Ivy brings her computer into my room and sets it down on my desk. The screen is paused on an image of Mike Durham, a leading sports personality, and it clicks in my mind that Eli is supposed to be featured in a high-profile interview that’s airing tomorrow.

  Eli, the turnaround kid, has just made it with his team to the Super Bowl, and everyone wants to know how. During the time it took the Rustlers to win the division title and secure their place in the big show, Eli set all kinds of league records for his yards and touchdowns. He’s inspired, driven by something new that’s made him a changed man. A leader on the field, even with Michael Dexter back from his injury to make the team even stronger.

  Ivy looks serious. “An advance clip is out for the interview, Jen. It’s gone viral.”

  I close my eyes. How long will my time with Eli haunt me? Is my cursed name going to come up in this viral thing? Will the sports world have a fun time mocking me just when I’ve started to get myself together?

  Ivy sighs.

  “I know,” I say. “I should be strong enough to watch this clip, then blow it off because I need to move on.”

  “Maybe you should hear what Eli has to say in it before you dismiss it.”

  I stand there for a moment, her words ringing through me. I’m not sure I want to hear what Eli has to say. I’ve been doing better since I’ve tried to stop thinking constantly about him and our time together.

  The house seems so quiet. Dad and Mom aren’t home; they’re spending the night on the Strip for a well-deserved staycation, using a bit of the money Eli paid me. The air seems to flat-line through the room as I hesitate.

  But I’m stronger now than I was right after the breakup. I can take whatever Eli has to say.

  I reach for the computer’s keyboard and turn the advance clip on, holding my breath.

  Chapter 23

  When Eli appears onscreen, leaning forward in his leather chair with his muscled forearms braced on his legs, he has an extra intensity to him that I’ve never seen before. It’s in his clear blue eyes. His wayward hair is just as wild as before, but there’s…something else.

  Something so heartbreakingly similar to what I saw in him before I walked out his door.

  He speaks, and it strikes me that his confidence is still there, only different, tamed. “The entire reason I got my act together and became the man and player I am today is fully because of one person.”

  Nausea grips me, because I can predict what I’m about to hear. Bo Brennan, his beloved father, still has the ultimate sway over his son.

  “My ex-fiancée,” Eli says. “Jenna Collins.”

  I sink down to the bed. Ivy links her arm with mine. Already, I feel the scratch of tears in my throat, the heaviness in my chest rising to push at me.

  On the screen, the interviewer cocks his well-coiffed he
ad. “Jenna Collins? That’s ironic, given that everyone thinks she was the reason for your bad play all along.”

  Eli’s smile isn’t as cocky as I remember; there’s a melancholy slant to it that reminds me of how I’ve been feeling. “They called her my curse.”

  “Wasn’t she?”

  “No. In fact, when we broke off our engagement, she said some things that made me rethink my entire worldview. That night changed me for the better.”

  Is he spinning things for the press, creating yet another story that’ll sell?

  Once again, that upside-down sense of being caught between real life and fake life grips me. But, with all my heart and soul, I want to believe him.

  “I realize that Jenna is probably better off without me,” he says. “All I caused her was pain and misery, but…” He sits up in his chair, his gaze dark, desperate. “I still love her.”

  The word echoes through the room. Love, love… Love?

  I can’t take another breath. My heart can’t even beat as I process this. I’ve tried not to cry myself to sleep lately, but all those tears I pushed back overwhelm me now. I huddle over, wrapping my arms around myself because if he’s still playing a PR game, I can’t take it.

  Damn him. What is he doing?

  The clip ends on the computer, leaving silence except for the sound of my crying. The reminder of his final words takes over all the other echoes in the air.

  He says he still loves me. I had no idea that he ever did. And if he did, why the hell didn’t he ever tell me?

  Damn him.

  Ivy hugs me. “Jen?”

  All I can do is keep crying, deep, shattering tears pulled out from the very core of me.

  Ivy continues. “Um… So when I saw what Eli said, I kind of called him.”

  A sob catches in my throat, the oxygen trapped in my lungs. I never did erase his number from my phone. I got rid of all the gifts he gave me, but this was one thing that I couldn’t bring myself to trash.

  “I left a voicemail,” Ivy says. “I don’t know when he’ll get it, but you’ve got to go to him. Now. Don’t mess things up any more than they’re already messed up. Hear him out.”

  I look up at the computer screen to see the naked emotion in Eli’s frozen image. It’s there in his eyes—love. It’s that something I kept seeing in him that I could never explain, that he always tried to hide from me…

  Ivy’s so right. I can’t throw this away.

  I hug my smart little sister, then rise from the bed to get my phone, which I’m pretty sure I left in the family room. When I get there, I can’t find it. I tear apart the couch cushions, open and shut drawers, my heart pounding in my head and everywhere else.

  “Ivy?” I yell. “Where’s my phone?”

  Headlights shine in the window, and the illumination washes over me. My pulse thunders, shaking me all over, making me tremble. I slowly walk to the window and look out.

  Eli is standing outside next to a new sports car, a looming silhouette, his hands fisted. Taking a stabilizing breath, I walk to the door and open it, exposing myself, letting the light shine over me and the love that I know he’ll see in my eyes.

  We lock gazes as the purr of his engine marks the passing seconds.

  He said he loves me, I think. I need to know if it’s true, because I can’t live without knowing. I can’t live without him.

  He shuts off the engine. There’s a suspended silence as his headlights stay on. Then he slowly moves into their beams.

  It’s only then that I can see the hope in him, the devastation of needing me.

  “Jenna…”

  I don’t let him finish. I run to him, and he catches me, holding me so tight that I can’t breathe. Then he’s kissing my face all over, taking me in until he finds my lips. We kiss with desperate ecstasy, finally back where we belong.

  Where we always belonged.

  He rests his cheek against mine. “I got Ivy’s message, so I came right over. I couldn’t wait another minute. You saw the clip?”

  “Yes.” Eli, his soap-and-musk scent, his hard body, him. I’ve got him again, just as if he never left. And he never did truly leave me, there, in my yearning heart.

  His voice is shredded. “You heard what I…?”

  “Said about loving me? Yes, I did.”

  He lets me slide down his body. The car’s headlights flick off, leaving us in the soft, buttery light from the apartments. He cradles my face, tenderly caresses my cheeks with his thumbs.

  “I’m here to tell you in person, Jenna. I love you. God, I love you so much. That night you left changed everything. You were the only one who ever told me how my dad was holding me back. Or maybe I just never heard it from anyone else when they tried to point it out. You’re the one who matters. Only you, Jenna.”

  Nearby, I hear footsteps, and I vaguely see Ivy walking into a neighbor’s apartment. After the door shuts, I realize that I’m standing here in a parking lot, in public, where anyone can see the most private moment Eli and I have ever shared.

  No more shows.

  After I bring Eli into my room, I fall into his arms again. He strokes my hair then takes it out of its clip and lets it fall down my back.

  “Just so you know,” he says, “you were never a curse.”

  “I wasn’t sure about that.”

  “You were the opposite. After you left, I realized that what I needed to shake off was my dad. When I told you that I was his shadow, I was wrong. He was my shadow, and if I didn’t separate myself from him, that would be my curse. You weren’t what was holding me back, Jenna.”

  I look up at him, and I don’t see the lost boy anymore. I only see the man everyone said Eli Brennan could be.

  “Until I could be my own person,” he says, “I wouldn’t deserve you.”

  “But you always did deserve me,” I say. “I always loved you.”

  He smiles, and it’s not the cocky one he’s always used on me and a million other people. It’s true and beautiful—mine and all mine.

  “Then marry me,” he says. “For real this time.”

  As I cover my mouth with my hand, holding back a happy sob this time, he takes a ring out of his pocket. It’s not as flashy as the diamond he bought for our fake engagement. This one is elegant, with gems the pale blue color of his eyes. He slips it onto my finger, and I lean against his chest, more tears blurring my gaze.

  Happy. So, so happy.

  “Yes,” I say. And it’s the one yes I’ve always secretly hoped I could say to him.

  He kisses me again, deeply, sincerely, and I feel as light as a feather on a breeze. He lays me down on the mattress and lavishes an adoring gaze on me.

  “No superstitions?” I ask. “No saving up your energy for the Super Bowl?”

  “You’re the reason I’m going there.”

  What he does next isn’t rushed or a part of a sexual game: he spreads my hair out on the pillow below my head, toying with the curls. From his gaze, I see that he’s missed me, missed the natural way my hair does anything it wants to do, missed everything that we almost lost. He takes his time unbuttoning my blouse then spreads it open, running a gaze over me. He undoes my bra, gently touches my breasts, takes his time massaging me with his fingertips. All the while, the hunger I know so well consumes his gaze.

  My gridiron god. My Eli.

  He peels off the rest of my clothing, then his own. In the lamplight, his multi-bladed tattoo looks sharp and ready, makes him seem as if he can defend me from anything. We’ve been our own worst enemies, but not tonight.

  Not anymore.

  “Show me,” I whisper to him. “Show me how much you love me, Eli.”

  And he does, laying his hands all over me, worshipping my breasts, my waist, my hips. With his knee, he lightly urges my thighs apart, then leisurely skims his thumbs to my sex, making me stifle a moan. When he arrives, he strokes me there, opening me even more, then bends to taste my clit.

  His tongue flicks me, works me, drives me mad with p
ent-up passion. But I want him to be happy, too, and just before the steam inside of me bursts into a banging climax, I rise up and push him down to the bed.

  “Jenna,” he whispers again.

  He groans as I go down on him, taking him into my mouth. I whirl my tongue up and down him, showing him, without a doubt, everything I feel. Lust. Adoration. Love.

  So much love.

  He grips me tight, and I know he’s about to come, so I scratch my nails down his hard chest, leaving marks. They decorate part of his tattoo, black ink and red abrasions. The pained sensation is obviously enough to send him over the edge, because he grabs me by the hips, bringing me to him and setting me on top of his cock, sliding it in easily, deep and all the way.

  “Yes,” I say softly. “Yes, yes, yes…”

  With every yes, he fucks me, fucks me harder and faster until those familiar fists pound inside of me, knocking at me, wanting to be released. They bang and pound and throb and pummel me until everything inside of me rises up, then crashes down like a door that splinters into pieces.

  But Eli’s not done, and I reach under his cock, strumming his sack with every one of his thrusts. He curses, coming into me, fulfilling me in every way.

  After I sink down to him, he holds me. He’s still inside me, and this time, I know he always will be.

  I hear one last word from him as soft clouds take over my perception.

  “Yes,” he finally says.

  Epilogue

  “I’m soooo exhausted,” Ivy says, slumping back into a chaise longue by my parents’ pool. It came with the big house Eli bought for them after we got married.

  Wouldn’t you know, he used the bonus money his team received for winning the Super Bowl to give Mom and Dad this wedding gift? He also won MVP of the game, and he gave the car that came with the award to Ivy.

  Of course, she adores him more than ever.

  “You’re pooped?” I ask her while lounging in my own chair as nearby fans keep us cool under the spring sun. “Try keeping up with Eli in the off-season.” And I don’t mean the let’s-see-the-world vigor he applies to the trips we’ve been on. Our honeymoon still hasn’t ended, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

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