by A. J. Pryor
His eyes narrow and his lips form a tight line as he lowers his voice so only I can hear. “If I wanted to go through you to get what I wanted, I would have fucked you months ago. You’re right. Sunday night was a mistake. One I’ll make sure to never make again.”
Standing tall, he storms off.
“Can you fucking believe it? Thomas is trying to put Addison on Emily’s case.” I can’t go home, and I can’t go to the hospital, so I’m at the track, running myself ragged with Reed by my side.
“You knew she worked for the fucker.”
“She wasn’t on the case. Now she is.”
My lungs are beginning to burn and my legs are feeling the pain, but I don’t care. Addison wasn’t on Em’s case when I moved in, she wasn’t on her case when I decided I needed Addison in my life and I’m feeling a little sick inside at the fact that in addition to now working on helping Thomas out, she’s also emotionally farther away from me than I’d like.
“You should tell Addison why Thomas hates you so much.”
“That he thinks I killed Emily’s mom? I’m not telling Addison that.”
“I want to adopt her. Take over all her medical expenses and make sure she has the best care possible.” We are in a conference room at my attorney’s office, Thomas Feeley sitting across from me, and my personal attorney by my side.
“No.” Thomas is staring at me with complete hate in his eyes and I have no idea what I did to make him despise me so much.
Standing with such force that my chair falls over, I meet his dark beady gaze. “You can’t outright deny the request. I have the funds, I can take care of her.”
My attorney puts his hand on my chest and nods his head for me to quiet down, he’ll handle it. “Mr. Feeley, there’s no reason why we can’t come to some agreement on what is best for the child. Damian comes from a good family, and certainly has the means to take care of her.”
Feeley’s eyebrows rise. “I know how that accident affected your life Mr. Walker. You’ve only recently pulled yourself together. You’re not fit to take care of a sick little girl.”
“I’m not that person anymore,” I blurt.
He shrugs. “Maybe, but I can’t in good conscience concede to you adopting my client. I’ll allow you to visit her, I’ll allow you to pay for whatever you see fit with regard to her medical care. But I plan on finding a good home for Emily,” his dark beady gaze is locked onto mine, “one that doesn’t involve the person directly responsible for orphaning her in the first place.”
Fuck, he’s blaming me for Megan’s death? “I was cleared of any wrong doing in that crash, Mr. Feeley.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re innocent, Mr. Walker. You are not getting custody of Emily, and that’s final.”
I’d hated every single one of Thomas’s words, mostly because I knew they were true, but I wasn’t going to stop fighting. I know I’m not the best person to permanently adopt Emily, but I want her in my family, I want her in my life. And I will stop at nothing to figure out a way to make that happen.
“Damian! Stop!” Reed’s shouting at me, and I halt in my tracks staring at him. What the fuck is his problem?
He jogs towards me. “Man, you’re kind of freaking me out. You look like you’re about to lose it.”
Running my hands over my face and head, I shake like a wet dog. “I think I already lost it. Are you still seeing that girl from Starbucks?”
The way his face scrunches up in confusion tells me he’s not. “Good, we’re going out.”
“Going out and doing what?” He’s walking beside me as we head towards the car.
“Whatever the hell we feel like. I’m done playing the nice guy when it seems to get me nowhere.”
I assumed the let down in my moral compass would thrill him, but he’s looking very hesitant. “Dude, you’ve already woken up once this week knowing you royally fucked up, you really want to go through that again?”
I shake my head. “No, you’re wrong. I woke up once this week convinced I’d found the answer to life. So sure my future was living next door, only to discover, I don’t know shit.”
My mind is made up. I’m hitting the town, and Reed can either come with me or I’m going by myself, but I can guarantee you, I won’t wake up alone in bed tomorrow morning.
“Damian, can we talk?” My jeans are resting comfortably low on my hips, the top button yet to be secured. No shirt and water is still dripping off my hair and onto my shoulders. Addison is in my doorway, her eyes big and round focusing on my face and doing their best not to travel over my bare chest.
Not saying a word, my eyes roam from hers, down to her parted lips, eyeing her silken neck and resting on her breasts, which just days ago were nestled comfortably in the palms of my hands. Now they’re perched up in a workout top that is making my head dizzy. My body reacts to her, but I tamper it down.
Running a finger along her perfectly smooth cheek, I make our situation very clear. “I wanted to talk two days ago. I have plans tonight, so unless you need to borrow an egg or something, you best get back to your television, I hear it’s a great night on the Kardashians.” Resting both of my hands on her shoulders, I turn her and give a slight nudge in the direction of her own apartment.
Shrugging my hands off her body she looks back and narrows her eyes, her fists curled up on either side of her. I’ve pissed her off. Good. She can stew in her own anger for a night, I certainly have.
As I’m waving goodbye and closing the door, she sticks her foot in the doorway, preventing it from shutting all the way. My hand is shaking on the handle, my body tense and coiled tight. Sweat is trickling down my neck and onto my back as I resist the urge to throw open this damn door and pull her into my arms. I’m out of my league here and not sure how to react. There’s too much going on, my feelings for her, my feelings for Emily. I don’t want Addison working for Thomas Feeley, and I don’t want her calling us a mistake.
Not opening the door any further, I quietly say, “Addison, go home.”
She doesn’t move her foot. “No.”
The toe of her white running shoe shines brilliantly against the dark paint. I rest my head on the cool wood of the door as I hold it firmly in place, preventing her from opening it further.
“Take me running.”
Is she serious? “I already worked out.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
Clenching my jaw, I move my foot to hers. With every ounce of inner strength I have, I nudge her toe back outside and close the door, sliding the lock in place.
Pretending that didn’t just cut a hole right through my heart, I grab a dark gray T-shirt from my closet and throw on a black hoodie. Reed and I settled on a dive bar at the outskirts of town. Nothing fancy, and somewhere we can be nobodies.
Pulling on my beanie, I throw on my best ‘I don’t give a shit attitude’ and leave my place.
She’s still standing outside my door.
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
It takes me a moment to register that she is going to make this night very difficult for me. Her defiant eyes are blazing brighter than usual, her dark hair pulled up exposing her neck, and those lips, which I can’t get enough of, tease me.
Her arms are laced tensely across her stomach, her biceps slightly pronounced with the effort it’s taking her to keep this tough girl act up. I don’t want to go out and pick up some random girl tonight, I want to stay home and watch TV with Addison. Find out who the Salmon Ladder takes out this time. Tell her all about Emily and everything she means to me, what she needs when she’s released from the hospital. I want to be with Addison, but I don’t want to be another one of her regrets, once in a week is enough.
Stepping into her space, I place my hands on either side of her throat, my fingers feeling her rapidly beating pulse. My thumb tilts her head upwards and I lower my lips to hers.
I kiss her. My tongue, slipping into her warm inviting mouth, her knees buckle and I back her a
gainst the railing, keeping her upright as she whimpers into our joined lips. My hands never leave her silken neck, feeling her heartbeat intensify as I deepen the kiss.
Damn, she tastes so good.
Releasing her arms, she wraps them around me and pulls me closer. I’m insanely hard and pressed right up against her body.
Her hands find the hem of my shirt and roam over the bare skin on my back. Pulling away, I keep my fingers on her beating pulse as I stare into her eyes. “Go inside, Addison. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She begins to protest, and I give her one more peck on the lips as I quickly walk down the stairs and get into the waiting cab.
I give the address to the cab driver, but what I really want to do is bang on her door and go back to Sunday night. I want a restart on us, because while for the past few days I’ve placed all the blame on her, I’m the one who agreed to drunk sex, I’m the one who wasn’t strong enough to make us wait until she was one hundred percent convinced I was who she wanted. I’ve known all along that she was it for me, but Addison needed more time and I screwed it up.
Next time around, I’m going to do it right. And while leaving her on my doorstep with swollen red lips feels all sorts of wrong, it was my only option.
The cabbie drops me off on a dark corner in front of a rundown looking shack. Reed’s already inside drinking a rum and coke and I join him.
“You don’t look much better than you did an hour ago. This is a very bad idea, Damian.”
“Leave then.” I nod towards the exit. “Not like I need your permission or your company. I’m pretty sure I can get laid all on my own.” The words fall out of my mouth, but they are meaningless. My interest lies with one woman and one woman only. I just don’t like Reed giving me orders anywhere but at the track.
Reed’s eyes go cold. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish?”
I take a sip of my drink and stare straight ahead. Shaking my head, I turn to him. “Fuck, I don’t know. I feel like I’ve lost control. Emily’s situation sucks, Addison is killing me and for once, I want to know exactly what’s going to happen next. I want to be in control of the next day, not freak out every time my phone rings that it’s the hospital telling me something’s wrong with Em or wonder what the fuck is going on in Addison’s mind.”
“Dude, you know more than anyone you can’t control life, you just have to ride it. Addison will come around.”
A cold blast of air enters the bar. We look up to see a group of girls we used to hang with at the doorway. They spot us and the mood instantly changes.
“And if she doesn’t, we can come back here and I promise, I’ll be your wingman,” Reed says, right before he waves the women over to our side of the bar.
‘Big cup of crazy.’ That’s the slogan on my mug this morning, and it fits my mood perfectly. He kissed me. Damian kissed me then left. But that kiss, it said so much in the ten seconds that passed between us.
He’s mine if I want him.
I do want him.
My job . . . my boss can be a prick, but I love my job. I’m not officially on Emily’s case, there’s a good chance Thomas would never find out Damian is my neighbor and I can think of a million excuses why he can’t put me on that case. I can try this, being a couple with Damian, or at least committed sex buddies.
It’s a quiet morning. I didn’t hear him come home last night and he hasn’t left for the track this morning. I sit in my big white lounge chair and take my first sip of dark rich coffee.
My phone begins to play that damn Arctic Monkey’s song. I can’t let Matt derail me. He’s already taken up too much of my life. It’s time to move on.
“Matt,” I say, resolved to end this.
“Addy, I love your voice this early in the morning.”
I’m silent; the sound of his voice still shocks me. After so many years of waiting to hear it again, it now leaves me lost, every reason I had for answering this call dying on my tongue.
“I’ve officially moved out.”
“You’ve still been living with her?” My question is immediate. The revelation that while he’s been pursuing me, he’s possibly been sharing a bed with his wife telling me everything I need to know. The Matt Bryson I fell in love with, is not the same man who’s come back to claim me.
“No, I told you I left her and I did. She’s been staying with a friend until I found my own place.” I don’t know if I believe him and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust him. “I’m sending a plane ticket. I want you to come see me. You can stay in a hotel, but I want you to see the life you could live if you moved here with me.”
I hear the sliding glass door to my right begin to open. “Matt, I’m not moving to New York.” I hit end and focus on the balcony ready to see a shirtless Damian and forget the past two days—go back to the way things have been the past few months with an added benefit of having sex, and a lot of it. My phone rings again, and I mute it, not wanting to deal with Matt or anything other than making up with Damian.
“I’ll be out here wai—”
“Amber, don’t go out there.”
As a woman with dark brown hair wearing nothing but one of Damian’s white T-shirt’s steps out onto the balcony, I have to hold in my gasp. This woman is stunning. Long lean legs, dark silky brown hair and hazel eyes. Her shirt is completely see-through and her dark nipples are peeking through the white material. If I had to guess, she’s not wearing underwear.
“Hi, I’m Amber.” She’s perky and annoying. I hate her and can’t bring myself to respond.
Damian follows her out, two plain black mugs secure in his two large hands.
I don’t know what I was looking for, guilt, remorse, shame, but as he hands Amber her mug all I see is . . . contentment.
“Hi, Addison.”
I rub my eye with my middle finger and take a sip of coffee that feels like battery acid as it slides down my quickly closing throat. He sits on the edge of his lounge chair and she slides in behind him. Her hands inch up his back and rest on his shoulders as she begins to give him a small back rub. He stretches his neck from side to side “Ah, that feels good.”
Gross.
My eyes close and I’m about to get up when I hear her whispering. “Last night was fun.”
I should go inside, but the scene playing out in front of me has cemented me to my seat.
His back stiffens, and he doesn’t respond. Her hands begin to descend, trailing along the muscles of his back, slipping around his sides to the front of him. She scoots closer, her crotch up against him. “We should do it again,” she continues.
I stand.
So does he.
He’s frowning, and for a split second, I think I have it wrong. He doesn’t want this woman’s hands on him, but as he looks at me, a slight pain filling his eyes, he reaches down and pulls her up, ushering her inside and leaving me standing there like a fool.
I phoned in sick, and called an emergency meeting with my girls.
“I’m thinking he didn’t sleep with her,” Mia says as she snaps a picture of me.
“That’s very optimistic Mia. Did I mention her nipples were visible through her white T-shirt?”
“Ass,” Paige mumbles as she works on the computer.
“How’s this photo?” Mia is holding her phone under my eyes so I can see the head shot she just took of me.
I’m peering at the picture, wondering what reason Mia has for thinking he didn’t have sex with Amber. I can’t think her name without a bolt of jealously striking me directly in the heart. “Can’t we do this with a regular camera?” I ask as I look at the washed out photo.
“It’s easier this way.” She shoots a few more pictures as Paige begins to ask me personal questions.
“Hobbies.”
“I don’t have any.”
“Yes you do, you work out.”
“That was my hobby with Damian. I highly doubt we’ll be doing that anymore.”
“I’m putting kickboxing on her
e. You did that before Damian came along and now you can pretend you’re kicking his ass.”
I don’t want to kick Damian’s ass. I want to go back to two nights ago and take back that one word—erase the unease that’s invaded my system the past two days.
I peer over her shoulder. “Match.com? Isn’t there a better site we can use?”
“Nope, this is the one that’s going to get you back on your feet.”
“Unless of course you want to call Matt back.” Paige is taunting me.
“I’m not calling him and I’m not moving to New York.” Was I so different five years ago that he’d think a fancy lifestyle is what I’m looking for? Does he not know me at all or maybe we never really knew each other to begin with.
After Damian and his leggy one-nighter left me alone on the balcony, I spent the day on my couch eating ice cream and watching re-runs of American Ninja Warrior, which has done wonders for my self-confidence.
Not.
But seriously, now that these two have come over and demanded I do something to mix things up a bit, I’m slightly on board. Online dating could be fun. Right?
Maybe a little?
Who am I kidding. I can’t think of anything worse.
“Kill the account, Mia. I don’t want to meet someone online. I’m not ready.”
“Too late. I’ve got you set up . . . and it looks like you already have a match.”
“Um, desperate much. Don’t go for it, Addison, probably a rapist. Mia. Set her up with that chef you were telling me about,” Paige continues.
“Who? Lance?”
“I don’t know! You interviewed him a few weeks ago.”
Mia’s eyes widen. “Yeah, good idea. He’s great, super cute and . . .” as she continues to discuss the benefits of some guy named Lance, there’s a knock on my door. I’m half listening to her description as I open it wide.
“Hi.” His deep masculine voice punches me in the chest, his grin making my insides liquefy. But a vision of Amber, with her see through shirt clouds my brain and that intense heat of desire quickly turns to one of anger.