Every Breath

by Tasha Ivey

  Waiting for Callie’s signal so I can make my grand entrance, I pluck my favorite diamond earrings from my jewelry box and put them in my ears. My dad gave them to me last Christmas, telling me that they reminded him of me—simple and elegant, yet undeniably strong. My dad is such a charmer.

  I am definitely going to need that reminder of strength to make it through tonight.

  “Ma-ken-na!” When Callie strings my name out into three long syllables, I always know I’m in some kind of trouble. And trouble flies into my bedroom looking like a demon on crack. “What are you doing? I’ve been calling for you. He’s waiting!”

  “If you had let me open the door, I would’ve already been down there. You’re the one that convinced me that I should make an entrance, remember?”

  “And you’re still going to! Count to ten and then come down.” Callie storms back out, looking more nervous than I do.

  Okay, here I go.

  One . . . two . . .

  Scratch that. I’m definitely more nervous.

  Three . . . four . . . five . . .

  Oh, crap. I’m really about to do this.

  Six . . . seven . . . eight . . . nine . . .

  Breathe.

  Nine and a half . . .

  Breathe, damn it!

  Ten.

  After I take one last glance into the mirror, I make my way into the hall and down the staircase, feeling very Scarlet O’Hara while Callie and Drew watch my descent. I completely avoid making eye contact with Drew, but I can feel his gaze sweeping over me, leaving nothing but heat in its wake. Which, of course, makes me have to concentrate even harder on not tumbling face first down the stairs.

  “Told you she was hot,” Callie blurts out, breaking the deafening silence.

  “I never doubted you for a minute there,” Drew finally manages to croak out after clearing his throat a couple of times.

  As soon as he speaks, my eyes lock on his like a missile target. I haven’t ever noticed his eyes before, but they are a warm, inviting brown, almost like melted dark chocolate. His hair, though, is a rich shade of chestnut, the shaggy ends lightened from endless hours on the football field. The sun has also kissed his beautifully bronzed skin. A tan that I would have to pay an exorbitant amount of money for—not that I can do anything other than burn.

  Seeing him in my home makes me realize what a beast of a man he is. He makes my living room seem like a coat closet. He must be a whole foot taller than I am and literally the width of a linebacker. Callie told me earlier that he was playing pro football about two years ago until a head injury landed him in the hospital in a coma for a month. Doctors told him that if he ever got hit in the head like that again, he may not walk away from it, so he stopped playing. He just came back home and, luckily for every female in a twenty mile radius, took the head football coach job at the high school. It’s incredible how much game ticket sales have gone up since he’s been here.

  Once I near the bottom, Drew steps forward and gently grasps my elbow, assisting me down the last steps. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks. You do, too.” And, boy, does he. I’ve never seen the man in anything other than oversized t-shirts and athletic shorts, even in the middle of winter. But tonight, his faded, loose-fit jeans and tight black polo shirt are more than drool-worthy.

  “So,” Callie says, stepping between us, “where are you taking my best friend and when should I expect her to call and let me know she made it home?”

  I look over at her incredulously. Yes, she definitely hovers more than my mom.

  Drew lets out a deep belly laugh and turns to me instead of answering her directly. “Well, actually, Makenna, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind coming to my house. I already have dinner in the oven and everything set up so we can eat out on the deck. I have a great view of the bay.”

  Callie grins wide and waggles her eyebrows at me. “She thinks that will be perfect, don’t you, Mak?”

  I narrow my eyes at her before looking up at Drew. “That’ll be okay, I guess.”

  “You sure?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty showing in his eyes and his body becomes tense. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I know you don’t know me very well.”

  “Honestly, Drew, it sounds nice. I’m not a fan of crowds.”

  “Okay, then.” He relaxes and quietly exhales. “I’m ready whenever you are. And Callie, I’ll have Cinderella home before midnight, okay?”

  She nods at him but speaks to me. “You better call me as soon as you walk in the door.”

  “Yes, Mom.” I bite down on an emerging smile. Drew holds out his elbow, and I hesitantly slip my hand in the crook. “I promise.”

  Callie grabs her purse, and with a Cheshire cat grin, she practically skips out the door. As soon as the screen door slaps shut, I look up at Drew, who has his eyes fixed on the pictures lined up along my fireplace mantle. Three of the largest pictures are of Shane and me.

  “Is this your family?” Drew steps away from me, causing my hand to fall away from his elbow.

  “Most of them, yes. Are you ready to go?”

  Somehow satisfied with my vague answer, he beams at me and returns with his elbow extended again. “Absolutely.”

  As we step out the door, I notice the truck in the driveway is exactly what I would expect him to drive. Glossy black, four doors, dripping with chrome, and jacked up enough to make me wonder how I’ll get in without a ladder. Definitely a man’s truck.

  Drew notices my apprehension when he opens the passenger door and points to the step just underneath the door. “Step right there, and I’ll help you up.”

  He places his large hands at either side of my waist, and I can feel the warmth of them through the thin fabric of my dress. Trying really hard to ignore how nice that feels, I perch my foot up on the step just before he begins to effortlessly lift me, allowing me to sink into the buttery soft leather seat before he closes the door.

  Oh my. It even smells like a man in here—a delicious combination of leather, cologne, and testosterone. Well, if testosterone had a scent, this would be it.

  Within seconds, Drew jumps in and the truck roars to life with the signature purr of a diesel engine. He looks over at me with a smirk and suddenly leans over in my direction, reaching for me. I’m convinced this guy is about to jump me right here in my driveway, and I run through a list of appropriate reactions in my head, disappointed that this date is going to end before it ever even started.

  That is, until he pulls my seatbelt across me. “Safety is always first, Miss Madison,” he says softly as the buckle clicks into place. His eyes meet mine before he backs away, and the corners of his mouth turn up ever-so-slightly.

  Whoa, this guy has some game. I don’t know whether to be impressed or nervous. Oh, who am I kidding? Definitely nervous.

  Once he pulls out of my driveway, it hits me. I’m on a date. I’m going to another man’s home. On a date. I’m alone in a truck with a man.

  On . . . a . . . freaking . . .date. Did I mention that?

  I thought I was ready for this, and I know I should be, but why am I so nervous all of a sudden? Yes, I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember feeling quite like this before. Not even when Shane and I first started dating.

  Everything came easy when I was with Shane. We met on my very first day of college. I had chosen ballroom dancing for my physical activity since dancing had always come easy to me, especially after the years of ballet and jazz classes my mom forced me to endure. I remember walking into that cavernous room full of total strangers and spotting him immediately. Unfortunately, he already had a partner, and an even more unfortunate fact was that there were only 4 guys in the class with 16 girls. So, naturally, I got stuck with a girl.

  But, when I walked into class on the third day, he walked up to me, grabbed my hand, and led me out to the floor.

  “My partner will be here in just a minute,” I told him.

  He just flashed a relaxed smile. “Actually, she won’t. She�
��s dating my roommate, and she told him that she was switching to bowling.”

  “Oh,” I said. “But what about your partner?”

  He shuffled his feet and looked up at me through his long lashes. “Okay, we have two options here. I can either give you the truth, which is incredibly genius, if you ask me. Or I can make up some crazy story about how she fell down a flight of stairs or slipped in a mud puddle. It’s your choice.”

  “In that case, I’ll take the truth.”

  “Well, after I found out your partner was leaving, I told mine that I needed her help with something, and if she assisted me with this plan I had, she would be doing a great service to poor, hopeless men like me everywhere. She agreed, and now she’s my hero.”

  “I’m not following.” I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. I mean, he was seriously hot, but I was certainly questioning his sanity at that moment.

  “It’s simple, really. You see, I told her that there is this insanely gorgeous girl that I’d beg, borrow, and steal for, just to dance with her one time. So after I begged her to drop the class and promised to let her borrow my car later, I now have the chance to steal that dance.”

  And for the rest of the semester, he was my dance partner . . . and my boyfriend. There wasn’t ever one awkward moment where I was nervous or didn’t know how to act around him. He had this good-natured personality that made him so easy to talk to. That is, if we could stop laughing long enough to talk . . . or stop kissing.

  Drew tapping softly on my shoulder pulls me from my memories. “We’re here.”

  I am completely and irrevocably in love . . . with Drew’s house. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of having a home like this one day. Enormous windows cover nearly every space on the façade, allowing me to literally see right through to the bay on the other side. Iron railings stretch across both the front porch and balcony, which wrap completely around the house. It’s elegant, but simple. It’s stunning.

  “How is it even possible that this is your house?” I have to ask. I mean, this place is not befitting of a football coach. I almost expected a dirty, dumpy little shack.

  Drew fumbles with his keys until he finds the right one. “Oh, I can’t take all of the credit. My grandfather built most of the homes in this area, and this one was my grandmother’s thirtieth wedding anniversary present. I was the only grandchild, so when they decided it was too much for them to keep up, I bought it from them. But, honestly, I think I always knew I’d end up here.”

  He opens the front door and ushers me inside, stopping to kick off his shoes. “This is my second favorite room.”

  “Only your second favorite?” I laugh as I follow him around the room. The floor plan is open, revealing the living room, kitchen, and dining area all in one massive space. Between the living room and kitchen is a gorgeous rock fireplace that towers all the way up to the honey-colored wood beams stretching across the ceiling.

  “We may need to wait a while before you see my absolute favorite.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, uh, I don’t typically take women into my bedroom except for . . .” A silly grin spreads across his mouth.

  Oh.

  What do I even say to that? I have no response other than to stare at him with my mouth hanging partially open, begging for something remotely clever to say.

  Out of nowhere, Drew’s laughter booms through the room. “The look you just had on your face reminded me of a poor, little mouse that had been backed into a corner by a cat. I was only kidding. The only woman that’s ever been in that room is my mom when she insisted on helping me decorate. Come on, I’ll show you.” He winks and grabs my hand, dragging me up a glossy set of wood stairs and down a short hallway.

  He opens the first door to the right, but I can hardly see anything until he moves across the room and begins opening a series of French doors. Three sets of doors, to be exact. The entire back wall of his monstrosity of a bedroom is now open to the balcony with a breathtaking view of the bay. The sun melting into the horizon fills the room with warm copper tones, and the brackish breeze gently brushes my hair around my face.

  On one side of the room, a worn, oversized leather chair draped with a navy blue quilt faces the open doors. In front of the chair, a matching ottoman holds a pair of glasses and a stack of magazines. A four-post king-sized bed facing the balcony is covered in a fluffy white comforter and an assortment of throw pillows in various shades of blue. It looks so soft and inviting that I have a nearly uncontrollable urge to climb in and curl up with a book.

  Almost seeming to read my mind, Drew smirks and rubs at the stubble on his cheek. “Well, what do you think?”

  “I . . . uh . . . It’s incredible. It would be my favorite, too.”

  He steps forward and brushes a wayward strand of hair from my eyes. “I think whatever room you’re in is my favorite.”

  I look up into his molten chocolate eyes as his fingers comb all the way through my hair.

  “We’d better go back downstairs and eat.”

  I have trouble convincing any words to come out of my mouth. “Okay,” I squeak before he takes my hand and leads me out.

  This is just too strange to me. I’m battling with so many emotions right now; I don’t know what to think. All at once, I’m confused, scared, and nervous, and I can’t seem to shake this nagging sensation that I’m betraying Shane. But at the same time, I find myself wanting this night to never end. Whenever Drew looks at me, I feel beautiful, and I can tell by his cryptic words that he would like to do more than just cook dinner for me. I feel like I’m on his dessert menu. Even though that freaks me out a little, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed that sense of attraction.

  I follow him downstairs and out onto the deck, where he has a stunningly decorated table, complete with a crisp white tablecloth with matching real napkins, gorgeous ivory china, flickering candles, and a chilling bottle of wine. The part that strikes me as a little odd is the crystal vase filled with gladioluses, which is one of my favorite flowers. Most men would pick roses or a more generic flower like daisies or carnations. The only thing that would have made it stranger is if he’d picked lilacs—my absolute favorite.

  “Wow. Just . . . wow.” I turn to look up at Drew, who is standing beside me. “This is getting creepy, you know.”

  His brows furrow deeply, and he swallows hard. “I’m sorry if this is too much. I was just trying to do something nice for you. Like I said before, we don’t have to eat here. There’s a restaurant close by. Do you want to leave? I—”

  I place my hand on his arm to stop him, pressing my lips tight and trying hard not to laugh at him. “Drew, no. It’s perfect. It’s just . . . first, you knew how I liked my coffee, and now, the gladioluses. How do you know these things?”

  “Oh, uh, honestly?”

  “Always.”

  Drew pulls a chair out to help me get seated before he moves to the other side of the table and does the same. “Do you remember the very first faculty meeting, right after you were hired last year?”

  “Of course. I was a nervous wreck having to meet all of those people.”

  He leans forward on his elbows. “I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but I watched you. From the moment you walked into the room until you left at the end of the day. I watched you make your coffee, slowing adding everything together until it was just right. I noticed how every time you were introduced to someone new, you bit your lip. I saw how you doodled on the handouts they gave us whenever they were going through presentations. And I also watched you pull a gladiolus from the table centerpiece after nearly everyone left, and you pressed it to your nose and closed your eyes while you smelled it. I couldn’t help watching you.”

  I sit back in my seat. He’s right. All of that really happened. “Why?”

  “Why? Are you kidding? You’re beautiful, Makenna. Hell, every man in that room noticed you.” Drew rubs his hand over his face. “I’ve even made unnecessary trips over to the elementary school just
to have the chance to bump into you.”

  My mouth just hangs open. I have seen him at the school quite a bit, but until now, I didn’t realize how strange it was for a high school football coach to be there all the time. “The day you came to sell me a raffle ticket for the football fundraiser?”

  He laughs deeply and covers his eyes for a moment. “You’re the only person I sold one to.”

  “How did I have absolutely no idea?” But I knew the answer to my question. I wasn’t ready to see it. I wasn’t ready to realize that someone was attracted to me. Am I ready now?

  Drew stands and walks around the table, gently placing his hand on my shoulder. “You were completely blinded by my charm?”

  “That must be it.”

  He winks. “I’ll be right back with dinner.”

  In his absence, I stare out at the fading sunset on the bay’s horizon, now only a horizontal sliver of luminescence radiating its glowing fingers upward into the wisps of clouds stretching across the deepening blue atmosphere. I surrender to the purity and simplicity of the gentle waves lapping at the shore and the briny scent tickling my nose. The immediate calm floods deep into my soul, allowing me to think clearly for the first time tonight.

  I’m not sure how I never noticed Drew’s surreptitious advances, and I’m still not certain how I feel about it. About all of this, for that matter. I’ve waited all this time for this imaginary weight to be lifted off of me, for me to finally feel ready to move on after Shane’s death, but I don’t recall that happening. So how have I fallen back into this so easily?

  Everything tonight has been surprisingly effortless. Being with Drew is definitely nerve-wracking, but in an omigosh-he-just-touched-me kind of way. And to be completely honest, I’m a little disappointed in the fact that I’ve tucked away the years of mourning Shane so easily. Maybe the weight has lifted a little.