A Blast from the Past (A Second Chance Romance)

by Cummin, Sharon

  I felt tears run down my cheeks. When I felt someone touch my arm, my eyes snapped open and my body shot up. I had been watching the stars and thinking about the past.

  "Are you okay, Livie?" I heard his deep voice.

  He sounded concerned, as if he really cared about the answer. I knew better than that. He didn't give a shit about me. He never had. I was pretty sure he never even thought of me once after he left. He wasn't who I thought he was. I felt anger rising inside of me. Quickly, I brushed the tears away. He reached over and pulled my chin so I had to face him. His grip was strong. I was surprised. When our eyes connected, all I could think about was that one night. I pulled my chin from his grip and got to my feet.

  "Are you crying?" he asked softly.

  I shook my head and narrowed my eyes.

  "Stop acting like you care," I snapped.

  His eyes widened at my response. He sat down and put his head in his hands. I heard him breathe deep before looking back up at me.

  "What?" he snapped. "What do you mean acting like I care?"

  "Don't sit here after having nothing to do with me for sixteen years and act like you give a shit about me. I can't deal with that. What are you doing out here? I don't remember inviting you."

  My voice was loud. I could hear the anger dripping from my words, so I'm sure he could hear it too.

  "I do give a shit about you. I can't believe you would even say that. I saw you walk passed the window and wanted to come out here."

  "You left me," I said.

  I couldn't stop the tears from dripping from the corners of my eyes. He looked a million times sexier than he had when he left. It was all so hard, and my emotions were getting the best of me.

  "You knew I was going back to New York. I told you the day I moved here what I was going to do," he said, his voice getting a little louder.

  "We spent four years together, Zander," I yelled. "Did that mean anything to you? You were my best friend. I thought you were anyway. Apparently we weren't as close as I thought. You quit talking to me out of nowhere. You cut me off completely."

  By the time I was finished with my thought, I was yelling louder than ever and could hear my voice echoing through the trees.

  "You got married," he snapped, as he stood in front of me and narrowed his eyes down at mine. "I quit talking to you when you married him."

  I stood still and looked back at him. He looked more pissed than I had ever seen him.

  "Whatever," I said, as I shook my head at him.

  "Don't you shake your head at me, Livie," he said sternly.

  "Don't you ever fucking call me that again," I snapped. "My name is Olivia. Do you hear me?"

  "I'll call you whatever I want. Do you hear me, woman. You'll always be Livie to me," he snapped back.

  I let out a loud huff and turned to walk away from him. He reached out and grabbed my arm. I winced and pulled away, as I rubbed the scar on the spot he had grabbed.

  "What?" he asked in a soft voice. "Why did you just wince when I touched you?"

  "Don't worry about it, doctor. It's all good. If you had been there when I needed you, you would have known what that was about. I need to go."

  The look in his eyes was so intense and filled with emotion. I needed to get away from him as fast as I could. His hair was so soft, and his body looked so good. The worry on his face was almost enough to get me.

  "What the fuck happened to your arm?" he asked.

  His voice was so deep and there was darkness in his face. I saw his hands clench at his sides.

  "Did he hurt you, Li," he stared, but I held up my hand.

  "Olivia," I said sternly. "Call me Olivia, Zander."

  I could see his chest rising and falling under his dress shirt. He was angry. What the hell was he wearing dress clothes for again, I wondered? He was wearing them earlier in the day when he came back with his mom as well. Didn't the man own a pair of jeans anymore? Was he a stuffy ass now, I thought?

  "I have to go," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Since you're here with Carol, I'll just see you at the viewing. I'm really sorry about your dad."

  "You're so mad that I stopped talking to you," he snapped and got to his feet. "I didn't hear you ringing my phone. There's no way you would have ever visited, but you could have at least called me. You didn't even tell me you were marrying him. My mom told me. I had to find out from someone else. Why didn't you tell me yourself?"

  "You're something else, Zander," I said with a smirk. "You think I'm this small town girl that could never find my way around a big city. I have news for you. This small town girl went to New York the week before I agreed to marry him."

  I turned and began walking away.

  "You were in New York?" he asked from behind me.

  I kept walking faster than before.

  "Stop, Livie," he yelled after me. "What do you mean you were in New York?"

  I moved even faster, pulled my door open, and quickly shut it behind me. My body slid down the door, and I wrapped my arms around my legs as the tears moved down my face like a waterfall.

  Chapter 6

  Zander

  What the fuck was she talking about, I wondered? The first thing I needed to figure out was what the hell happened to her arm. It better not have been Mike. If I found out he touched her, I knew I would end up in jail. I'd crush him if he hurt Livie. She might not have thought it was my business, but she was wrong. It was very much my business. She thought I didn't care about her. It hurt when she said I wasn't there when she needed me.

  I sat down on a chair and let my head fall to my hands. She said she had been to New York. I couldn't figure it out. Why was she there? Where exactly in New York had she been? She said it was a week before she accepted Mike's proposal. I couldn't believe she went by herself. She wasn't a big city girl at all. I remember her saying she would never go someplace that big. Maybe she was just pulling my leg, I thought. If she had been there, why the hell didn't she come and see me? How could she go that far and not visit me? I thought about her all the time. There were times I turned around and thought I saw her or thought I heard her voice. It never ended up being her though. I was always disappointed.

  Seeing her looking up at the stars pulled at my heart. We used to lean back on our elbows next to each other and try to connect the stars to make shapes or animals. Her eyes were closed when I walked up, but she had a smiled on her face. It was killing me trying to figure out what she was thinking about. When I saw tears in her eyes, my chest felt like it was caving in. I felt like I couldn't breathe. She was my Livie. I could never stand to see her cry. The way she snapped at me when I said Livie was another life changing moment. That was what I had always called her. It was my name for her. How could she say that to me? There was no way I was calling her Olivia. It took all I had not to take her over my knee and spank that perfect ass of hers. She didn't need to be talking to me like that.

  I jumped when I heard a car door shut. The sun was shining through the trees. How did I sleep all night in a chair, I wondered? I stood up and walked out of the woods. When I looked up, our eyes connected. Livie was getting ready to back out of the driveway. Her face was serious. There wasn't even a hint of a smile on it. She backed out and was gone before I knew it.

  My mom wanted to get a new dress for the funeral. I wanted to make sure everything went exactly the way she wanted it. She needed to feel as if she had done everything she could for him. I knew it was important to her. My feelings about him were being put aside the best that I could. She loved him so much, and I loved her. When she mentioned Livie or her mother going with her, I suggested Livie's mom go. It bothered me that my mom took every bit of help Livie offered her after everything she had said to me over the years. I knew she meant well. I knew she wanted what she thought was best for me. It still pissed me off.

  Livie had called her mother and said she needed to stay late so she could bake things for the funeral. My mom needed to get shopping, and there was no way I was going wit
h her. My mom offered to have me watch the two kids while they went. When she walked in the door with both kids, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with them. They watched television for a little bit. I pulled out some cards and a couple of board games that were in the closet. They were actually very good kids. I was surprised how smart and well-behaved they were. Livie was doing a great job raising them alone.

  I heard her car door shut and walked to the door. She walked into her house and came back out moments later. I hurried to the kitchen and pulled stuff out of the fridge for sandwiches. She was going to think I had let her kids sit hungry. That wouldn't be good. She was already so mad at me. I had kept track of her, but she didn't know about it. Apparently, I hadn't done a good enough job. Something had happened to her. The way she pulled away and rubbed her arm left a sick feeling in my stomach.

  When she knocked on the door, I took a deep breath and opened it. She looked around me to see her kids sitting on the couch watching a cartoon.

  "Why is April and Jack here?" she asked sternly.

  I was slightly shocked by her attitude. She could have at least appreciated that I was with her kids. I had made it clear the entire time we were close that I didn't want children. Instead, she stood with her hands on her hips acting like them being around me was the worst thing in the world. It was very offensive.

  "My mom needed a new dress for the funeral. Your mom took her to get one. She was going to wait for you to get home so you could take her, but I figured after all of the baking you were already doing for us, you really didn't need to be shopping with her all night," I said. "I was just making them sandwiches. Why don't you come in and have one."

  I moved to the side for her to enter, but she didn't. She had no idea how close she was to going over my knee. The women I spent my time with weren't difficult. One of the things I liked about her growing up was that she never took shit from a guy. In that moment, I wasn't finding it to be such a good quality. Being difficult with me wasn't something that had ever happened before.

  "If you'd like, I can send them home when they're done eating," I said.

  "Why are you wearing suit pants and a dress shirt?" she blurted out.

  She seemed to always take me by surprise those four years we spent together. I knew I shouldn't have been surprised she was still doing it.

  "What?" I asked.

  "I'm just curious," she said with a shrug. "By the way, I can make my own decisions. There's no reason for you make them for me. You don't get to do that. Maybe I wanted to take your mom shopping. I've done it so many times. I'm not really happy about the fact that those two ladies decided to let some strange man watch my kids."

  "Some strange man," I snapped, as my eyes narrowed at her.

  "My kids don't know you. They know your mom, but they've never seen you before."

  "I wasn't thinking about it. I'm sorry. You're right. They should have asked you if it was okay," I said. "I wasn't making decisions for you. I think we both know you do what you want. You've always been that way."

  She pushed passed me and walked into the kitchen like she owned the place. I smirked when she went into the fridge and poured herself a glass of soda.

  "What's that smirk for?" she asked. "I'm here every day. You'd know that if you were ever around. So, what's with the suit? You going somewhere? I don't think there are any patients to see or meetings to go to. You do know where you are, right? Is that all you brought with you?"

  "No," I said.

  I could hear the attitude seeping out through my words. Who did she think she was, I wondered? She was acting like I wasn't the same man anymore. Just as I went to say something, a huge smile crossed her face.

  "I don't believe you," she said, as she took off around the corner.

  I was right behind her all the way up the stairs. She rounded the corner into my room, walked over to my closet, opened my dresser drawers, and burst out laughing.

  "Do you even own a pair of jeans anymore? I bet you don't. You're probably too good for that. Is that it? Is it beneath you kind sir? Are you too good for jeans and t-shirts? Maybe it's not that. Have they turned you into a stuffy, boring man? Do you sit around with your pinky out while you drink? I bet your place is boring too. Are all the walls white? Is all of the furniture black? Have you turned serious? Is there any Zander left in there?"

  I heard a growl come from deep in my chest and saw her shiver in response. She stopped talking with her mouth wide open. My eyes narrowed and stared right into hers. I watched her shift from foot to foot under my gaze. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she let it out.

  "No," I began in a stern voice. "I'm not boring and stuffy. This is how I dress for work. I'm sorry that you don't approve. I do own a pair of jeans."

  "A pair," she said sarcastically.

  I took a step closer and heard her breathing speed up.

  "I'm not the same man I was before, Livie," I said. "That's true. You're not the same woman either. I can see changes in you as well."

  When I took another step closer, she put her hand up and I saw the long scar on her arm in the light. As soon as my eyes landed on it, she dropped her arm back to her side. I could feel her mind going and stepped to the side so she couldn't run from me.

  "What do you do for fun?" she asked with her head held high. "Tell me what you do all day."

  "I work," I said. "I work a lot. When I go home, I work out. It helps relieve any stress or tension from my day."

  "What else do you do?" she asked.

  I really wasn't sure what to say to answer her question. There wasn't much else. I worked, worked out, and screwed. That was it.

  "Do you really want to know anything else?" I asked.

  "You say you're not stuffy and boring. Drop the suit. Put on some jeans. You look like you have a stick shoved up your ass. Why don't you at least try and relax while you're here. To answer your question, I don't want to know anything else. I'm better off not knowing what or who you do in your spare time."

  She was really beginning to piss me off with her smart mouth. I was trying to get along with her, but she was fighting every single thing I said. She plopped her body down on my bed like she had sixteen years before. I shut the door and began unbuttoning my shirt one button at a time. When I undid my belt, unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and dropped them, I heard her breath catch.

  "What the hell are you doing, Zander?" she snapped.

  "I'm changing into jeans. Isn't that what you requested?" I asked.

  When I walked over to the dresser, I grabbed a pair of jeans out and turned back to her. Her eyes were focused in on my cock. It took all I had to hold my composure. I saw her tongue dart out across her lips.

  "My eyes are up here, Livie," I said with a smirk.

  "What?" she asked.

  I slipped one leg into my jeans and then the other. When I pulled them up and buttoned them, I made sure to adjust myself.

  "Your eyes were on my cock. I like the way your tongue darted out like you wanted to lick it."

  Her eyes widened, and she threw the pillow at me.

  "You're not eighteen you know," she said. "Grown men don't say things like that."

  I let my shirt fall from my shoulders and pulled my t-shirt over my head.

  "Damn," she whispered.

  When I grabbed a new shirt out of the drawer, I turned around and looked at her.

  "What?" I asked.

  "Nothing," she said with a smile.

  I pulled the shirt over my head and down my chest. She wasn't moving her eyes away from me. It made me feel good to see that her body still reacted to me. She could say every shitty thing she wanted about me, but her body told a different story.

  "I have jeans on now," I said. "Is that better? Do I look more like I did before?"

  She stood up and opened the door.

  "You look nothing like you did before," she said, as she took the first step out of the room. "It still looks like you have a stick up your ass though. All those
muscles aren't hiding that."

  I lunged forward, and she ran down the stairs with me on her heels.

  "Are you going to finish making us sandwiches?" she asked. "The kids are waiting."

  She purposely ran to where her kids were. Did she really think I wouldn't have to balls to do anything to her?

  "You'll pay for that," I said with a smirk. "My muscles aren't the only thing better about me. I've learned many new talents since I was eighteen. I could show you some of them if you'd like."

  I loved the way her facial expressions changed and her body reacted. She was so adorable. That hadn't changed a bit. She was even more beautiful than before. None of the women I've been with have ever come close to her. She was perfect. I just wasn't perfect for her. She deserved so much better than me.

  Chapter 7

  Olivia

  I was speechless when he dropped his pants in front of me. My eyes went straight to his package. The worst part was that he caught me looking. His naked chest got me again. I could see my tongue licking every single inch of that man. He did things to me. He always had. Sixteen years hadn't changed that. I was pissed at him and needed to remember that. If I didn't, he wouldn't make it back to New York without me jumping him. One more time wouldn't be so bad, would it, I asked myself? Of course it would.

  "What did Zander do with you guys?" I asked the kids.

  "We played cards and games. He likes cartoons," April said.

  "Does he?" I asked.

  "Yes," she answered. "He said you used to watch cartoons together when he lived here. He said you didn't want your friends to know."

  I shot a dirty look his way, and he smiled and shrugged. We all sat around the kitchen table eating the sandwiches he made for us.

  "Can you cook anything else?" I asked. "Do you have someone to do that for you?"

  "I can cook a couple of things. Since it's just me, I usually pick something up on the way home. I don't have someone that does it for me."

  "What about your girlfriend? Does she cook?" I asked.

  "I don't have one," he said, before looking at the kids. "Does your mom bake you good stuff? I miss her baking. What is your favorite thing for her to make?"