My thoughts, along with my body, slam into something. The air whooshes from my chest seconds before I fall to the ground. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” I say when I see a man on the ground next to me. I must’ve walked straight into him. “I didn’t see you. I…” My voice trails off when I notice the same man from the other night staring at me.
“Please, I need your help,” he mumbles as he attempts to right himself in what appears to be the same dirty clothes he was wearing the other day.
Logically, I know I’m safe. We’re surrounded by people on a busy sidewalk, but a crushing fear starts to consume me.
“I just need to take you with me to—”
I scramble to my feet and start racing down the sidewalk to my firm. Once I’m safely inside the building, my heart rate begins to slow.
The last time I saw that man, I was close to my apartment, but this time, I was only a couple of blocks from where I work, and the two are nowhere near each other. That has to mean he’s following me. An uneasy feeling rakes through me at the same time I can hear my dad ranting about how I’m going to get mugged, or worse, walking around New York by myself all the time.
I’ve lived here for eleven years. This city feels like home to me. I’ve never once felt any anxiety living here. I’ve been in some fairly questionable places in my younger years, but nothing compares to the jitters that man has caused.
On the subway home, I found myself scanning everyone around me, looking for the man who’s apparently following me, but I didn’t see him. Instead, I got the heebie-jeebies when a rather bizarre man in tight leather pants sporting a camel toe decided it was acceptable to constantly touch me. His leg bumped into mine. He fingered my hair, but when his lips brushed against my ear, I had enough and snapped. I grabbed his long Bon Jovi hair and threatened to knee him in the balls if he touched me again. Surprisingly, my new admirer—along with everyone around us—gave me some much-needed breathing room afterward.
By the time I reached my stop, my mood was in the gutter, but I forced myself to stay alert on the walk to my building. When I finally made it to my apartment, I almost whine with frustration when I spot Jake.
“What are you doing here?”
His brows bunch. “I told you. I made plans for us.”
Slowly, my eyes wander from his sexy brown eyes down to his collared shirt and tie, to the dress slacks that caress his hips. My mouth starts to water as stylish Jake is unbelievably hot. Normal Jake is sexy as hell, but the polished version reminds me of the men I work with—only with Jake, it sets my body on fire.
“We have tickets to a show; otherwise, I’d be all over those dark, lustful eyes of yours, but we might be late as it is.”
“You have tickets to a show?” I repeat in awe.
“I was told shows in New York are a must see, so I figured I’d take you and see what all the fuss is about.”
“I’ve never been to a show before.”
He smiles. “Then let’s go lose our theater virginity together.”
I glance down at my outfit. I still have dirt on my skirt from when I hit the sidewalk earlier. “Let me change? I’ll be really quick. I promise.”
“Whatever you want.”
I start to roll my eyes at his effort to impress me, but I force myself to stop. I don’t have to be a bitch all the time, and I shouldn’t be one to a man who probably dropped a serious amount of money on last-minute tickets.
I race to my room and grab out my favorite black dress. The neckline is a little too low cut for court, but this dress fits me perfectly. It’s usually my go-to dress when we’re heading to Club Zen on a night I’m looking for more than just a drink. Tonight, it’s going to have to work its magic on Jake, because he looks like a million dollars.
I pull my hair down and run a brush through it before changing my shoes. I reapply my lipstick, grab my coat, then I rush to the living room where I find Jake waiting for me.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles as he takes me in. “You just went from a sexy-as-fuck lawyer to every man’s fantasy in less than five minutes.”
I smirk, but truthfully, I love his comment. I typically feel sexy after I drop money I don’t have on lingerie at Barney’s, but that doesn’t happen often.
“Are you ready?”
“For a night with you?” His eyes gleam. “Absolutely.”
I force myself not to react to the flutters in my stomach. I’m not used to feeling this way, and my first reaction is to call bullshit, but Jake claims he’s trying, and hell…maybe he really is.
“Come on, let’s go.” Jake holds out his arm for me.
I hesitate for a moment before I lace mine through his.
“I wasn’t sure how early you’d get home so I made us reservations for dinner after the show.”
“That sounds perfect. I had a big lunch.”
Jake flags down a cab like a pro and then tells him exactly where we need to go. “You’re starting to get the hang of this. I think I lived in the city for close to three years before I finally knew how to get around.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I did a lot of research online.” He gives me a weak smile, almost as if he’s embarrassed.
“Well, thank you. Outside of lunch with Jordan, I was about to chalk it up as a crappy day, until I saw you.” My throat starts to swell from my confession. I meant the tickets and dinner, not him…but that’s not totally true.
“I do tend to have that effect on a lot of people.” He smirks, and all I can do is fix him with a glare. “But it takes a lot more effort to impress you, so I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He gives me a dazzling smile, one that would have me out of my clothing and ready to mount him if we were back at my place. “None of that. At least not until later, unless sex in public is legal in New York?”
I groan. “No, actually it’s not. I think the city might want to consider posting a sign every few blocks reminding people it’s against the law. If they did, my client list would be a hell of a lot shorter.”
Jake laughs. “Shit, you sound like you work on an episode of Judge Judy.”
“More like an episode of The Walking Dead. I can’t reason with most of my clients. On the very rare occasion, I’ll defend someone who truly made a mistake and just wants to move on, but most of the time, it’s outlandish people who think they’re above the law.”
My eyes dart down to the seat when Jake’s hand slides over mine. “Do any of these people ever get mad and take it out on you?”
All the time, but I know what he’s getting at. It’s the same question my dad regularly asks, and the answer is no. I’ve never had a client come after me because of the outcome of their case.
“No,” I weakly answer, wondering about the guy from earlier as the cab pulls up to the theater and stops.
Jake pays and then grabs my hand again.
“School of Rock?” I’ve overheard a few of my colleagues talking about how awesome this show is.
“I’ll be honest…” Jake sighs. “Getting dressed up and watching people on stage singing and dancing doesn’t hold a lot of appeal to me. I’d rather be drinking a beer and watching Sports Center from the luxury of my own couch, but I thought I’d go out of my comfort zone and try something new.” He cups the side of my face. “With you.”
My stomach starts to turn with flutters as his dark eyes penetrate mine. We both know he was referring to more than just tonight, but my anxiety gets the best of me. “It’s cold, Girard. Maybe we should go inside?” I tilt my head with a grin, avoiding his heavy stare.
Instead of acting annoyed, he gives me a coy smile. “Then let’s get out of the fucking cold.”
Almost thirty minutes pass before we’re finally in our seats. I swear every woman we walked by stopped to stare at Jake, and truthfully, I can’t blame them. He must’ve had a haircut because his sandy-blond hair is shorter on the sides today, but it’s still longer on top. And a few days’ worth of stubble decorates his chin. I can’t figure out if he’s growing a bea
rd or just being lazy, but either way, the scruff is smoldering on him. Add that to his suit, and he looks like he belongs on a movie set, not a football field.
“Maybe you were right?” I mumble.
“I’ve gotta say, I love hearing those words come from that beautiful mouth of yours.” Jake gives me a wolfish smile.
“Don’t get used to hearing that. Your head is already too big. The last thing I’d want is for it to finally explode.”
Jake laughs and squeezes my hand. “Do tell. What am I right about?”
I glance around, feeling people’s eyes on us. “Maybe more people recognize you than I thought.”
Jake’s eyes thin as he glances around. “I don’t think anyone here recognizes me.”
“People were staring at us, believe me.”
“Lacey, if anyone’s looking at the two of us, it’s because they’re wondering how a man like me could have a woman as beautiful and classy as you on my arm.”
“Jake,” I sigh with frustration. “Sometimes you make my ears bleed.”
Instead of getting pissed, the jerk laughs again. “If we go a whole night without a sarcastic comment, I might have to run you to a hospital or check your purse for a gun. You could be plotting my death.”
I force myself not to laugh as the lights dim and the show starts. Jake drapes his arm over my shoulder, reminding me that this is a real date.
I’m not sure how, but in a matter of only days, it feels like my life has changed. I’m not about to fool myself into believing I can keep a man like Jake, but he’s pointed out to me there’s more to life than just working. When he does finally leave, I’m positive I’m going to be smacked with the reality of how lonely my life really is, but maybe…maybe it’s time I finally put one foot in front of the other and start walking toward a life I once upon a time dreamed was possible.
16
Jake
“Holy shit, that was hilarious. That’s exactly how I’d act if I were to teach kids.” Lacey’s face lights up.
Tonight is going perfectly. I can’t honestly remember the last time I put this much effort into anything that didn’t have to do with football. But I knew if I wanted to impress her, I needed to give her a night she wouldn’t forget.
The cab pulls up in front of the restaurant I have reservations for. “I was told this place has the best sushi around.”
“Sounds perfect,” she says as we get out of the cab.
Once we’re at our table, I order a little of everything.
“Is it safe to say you eat sushi like you do pizza?”
“I could eat.”
“No wonder football players get paid so much. Half of your income goes to food.”
My mood starts to dip with her comment. She likes to remind the two of us that we come from different worlds as often as possible. I pause my thought as the waitress places the spread of food I ordered in front of us. Once we start eating, I decide to address her comment.
“Getting paid a lot is just a perk of my job. Don’t tell the owner this, but I’d play for a lot less.”
She arches an eyebrow like she doesn’t believe me.
“Are you saying if your firm suddenly wanted to pay you a million dollars per year to be on retainer, you’d turn that down?”
Lacey chews on her bottom lip but doesn’t answer.
“Don’t get me wrong, the money is nice. I paid off my mom’s house, bought her a new car, and paid for my sister’s tuition in full. None of those things would’ve been possible if I wasn’t making a healthy income, but I love what I do. The paycheck is just a nice bonus.”
“Are you worried that something could happen to you?”
“No,” I quickly answer.
“Chase got hurt. Jordan claims he’s actually retiring because of what happened to him.”
“Injuries happen all the time, but I’m not worried about it. I have a greater chance of being in a car accident or dying in a plane crash than getting hurt on the field. The media just enjoys making shit look worse than it really is.”
“So Chase was faking?”
I sigh. “No, but Chase’s situation is rare, not to mention, he was told he was taking a risk by playing. I found that out after the fact, but he never should have been on the field in the first place.”
She nods, almost like she doesn’t believe me.
“Playing ball feels like I’m honoring my dad or something. He loved football. He’d take me to the park down the street from our house almost every night to toss the ball around.” I shrug. “He used to tell me all the time that I had what it took to be a professional player.” Our eyes lock. “I guess I believed him.”
“That’s a beautiful story, Jake. I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”
My chest tightens. “It was actually my fault he died.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about?”
“My dad was a police officer and my mom is a nurse. She’d work the night shift a few days a week so they wouldn’t have to worry about who watched me. One night, I woke up horribly ill. I had gotten sick all over my Batman pajamas. My dad put me in a bath then sat with me until he finally carried me downstairs. My stomach still hurt. The only thing that sounded good was Sprite, but we didn’t have any. I was eight and there was a drug store a few blocks from our house so my dad decided to leave me home by myself long enough to get me that fucking pop.” When I glance at Lacey, I can see tears in her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
“No, don’t be sorry.” She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “What happened to your dad?”
Anxiety forms in the pit of my stomach. My dad isn’t someone I talk about. I haven’t even told Chase what really happened, because this is a part of my life I keep to myself, but the desire to be honest with Lacey wins out.
“A man walked into the store and held the cashier at gunpoint. My father, being the hero he was, pulled his own gun, only he didn’t notice the second man in the store and was shot in the back.”
She gasps before placing her hand over her mouth, a lone tear falls down her cheek. “Jake, that wasn’t your fault. How in the world could you think that?”
“He never would’ve left the house if it weren’t for me.”
“You were just a kid. Any good parent would’ve done what your father did.”
As I silently hold her stare, shame settles in the pit of my stomach.
“You would’ve done the same thing, Jake. If your kid were sick, you’d run out the door like you had a football in your hand to get him or her whatever they needed.”
“How do you know what I would or wouldn’t do?”
“Because I’ve seen what a good person you are.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, completely unsure of how our night took a drastic turn.
“Jake, don’t live doubting yourself because of what happened that night.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t.
She abruptly looks away, her shoulders tense. Several long minutes pass before she finally looks at me again, and the magic we created earlier is long gone. “You were a sick eight-year-old boy. Nothing about our stories are the same.”
“Tell me then. Why are you living with doubt? Why are you so convinced a relationship won’t work?”
“Because I was a stupid teenage girl who didn’t listen to anyone when they told me I was throwing my life away for a boy who didn’t even want me. And I was…” She trails off while her eyes dance around the restaurant. When she looks at me again, I see her frustration.
“I was that girl. I had a dream. I had a plan, and I was willing to give all that up for a guy. For a guy who tricked me into believing we were actually something, when in reality, he was just using me.” She huffs. “Believe me, that was a hard-learned lesson I will never let happen again.”
“By not dating? By not giving a man who could actually treat you right a chance?” My voice h
ardens with the reminder that I’m paying the price for the fuckwad’s decisions.
“I did something stupid that cost me a lot more than just my dreams, and in turn, I live every day wondering what if, so yeah…I avoid men. I avoid the reminder of a life I was close to having.”
Anger, frustration, and even a little dose of fear starts to set in as I wonder—not for the first time—if I can get her to let go of the past and look toward something…with me.
The waitress unknowingly breaks the tension between us. “Can I get you anything else?”
Lacey smiles at her then looks at me.
“No, I think we’re ready for the check.”
Once the waitress walks away, Lacey gives me a grim look. “I’m sorry. Tonight, was going great, then it crashed and burned, and I feel like that’s my fault.”
“No, it’s fine.” My voice was curt, when I didn’t intend for it to be.
The smile she was forcing falls, and it makes me feel like an ass.
“I mean it,” I say softer. “Logically, I know you’re right. I was only eight. I shouldn’t blame myself for what happened, but I think you should really stop and ask yourself the same question. Whatever happened, whatever choice you say you made, you made as a teenager. I know I made some pretty crappy decisions when I was a kid. Maybe it’s finally time you laid your demons to rest.”
Lacey gives me a bleak look. “You might be right, but I don’t think I’m just going to wake up tomorrow and magically be a different person.” She glances at her watch. “I need to be up in about six hours for work.”
“Then let me get you home.”
After I pay the bill, we head outside where I flag down a cab, and before long, we’re back at Lacey’s. A part of me wants to go in, to wrap her up in my arms. To remind her that life is still worth living, but a doleful mood has set over the two of us, and I don’t want to give her another reason to push me away.
“I’d like to see you tomorrow. If that’s okay?”
“I have court tomorrow and my mood is really shot by the time I get home.”
Living With Doubt (The Regret Series Book 2) Page 13