Butt Ending: A Big Stick Novel 2 (Standalone)

by R. C. Stephens

  I’m still frozen, not sure what to say next. Why is he here?

  Oli gives me a questioning look. “If it’s okay, I’d like to give her a ride home.” He looks between me and Sierra.

  “Okay.” I nod to Sierra, realizing he’s not behaving in his usual dominating way and just ordering me into his car. I actually miss his bossiness.

  “See you later. I’m not hugging you since we’re both sweaty.” She smiles, but I can tell she’s worried. I’ve been a mess these last few weeks, and with Flynn having her hands full with the babies, I’ve been burdening Sierra with my broken heart.

  Oli doesn’t remove his gaze from me, I catch him combing over my body. There’s a fire in his eyes. I give Sierra one last glance to see she has a knowing smirk on her face. I can’t call her on it though.

  “Bye,” I finally reply slowly as she opens her car door. Jeez! I need to get myself together.

  I return my attention to Oli and his eyes are two burning flames. They lock on mine. So many questions run through my mind. Why is he here now? Why didn’t he call before this morning?

  “I’m parked over there.” He tilts his chin to the SUV. His car reminds me of all the fun, sexy times we shared on our drive to Canada.

  I nod and follow him to the car with the beautiful flowers that represent happiness and hope in my hand.

  He starts the car and turns the AC up. The cool air is welcome on my damp skin. His voice breaks the silence. “I have some explaining to do,” he begins.

  I turn my head to look at him. He seems torn up, and he doesn’t need to be. He never made me any promises.

  “You don’t have anything to explain,” I say. “How did you find me here anyway?” I ask, furrowing my brows together.

  “Flynn.” He tilts his head to the side as if it’s obvious. Of course.

  I bite my lip. Since the attack, Flynn has been calling more often and asked me to send her a detailed schedule with addresses for my daily routines. It’s her way of maintaining some control over my life while somehow in her mind ensuring my safety.

  Oli’s eyes drop to my lips before he returns his gaze to my eyes. He looks a little lost, maybe scared, or maybe I just can’t read him right and I have it all wrong.

  “I feel like I owe you an explanation.” He persists, only I don’t know that I want to hear what he has to say. Another “I’m sorry but I’m not the committing type” is exactly the bullshit excuse I don’t want to hear.

  “You don’t,” I say curtly trying to save my fragile heart. I let out an exasperated breath to cover my emotions. “Can you just give me a ride home.” I say, and it isn’t a question but more of an I don’t want to get into this right now. I’m hot, sticky and hungry. I don’t want to listen to him give me another brush-off—not after the perfect night we shared. I don’t want to be let down anymore. I’ve had enough people let me down.

  He sighs heavily and puts the car in drive. He shakes his head as he stares out at the traffic. “You’re damn stubborn, ya know that, right?”

  I let out a puff of air and sink down in the seat, my hand coming up to my forehead. “So, I’ve been told.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him chew the side of his lip. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he had something important to say.

  I push myself to sit upright and look straight at him. “What is it?” My tone is insistent, maybe slightly snappy but I feel like I’m at my breaking point with him right now. His mixed signals are maddening. This car feels too small to contain the two of us, even though it’s a large SUV.

  He runs a rough hand over the few days’ stubble on his chin. I take a long gulp, trying to clear the lusty fog threatening to settle over my mind. I turn into a horny mess around him, and I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. I can’t let anything happen this time because I’m not some woman he comes to just for sex. I need more. No, I want more.

  At the red light, he turns his head and narrows his gaze on me. “I need to say something . . . admit something . . . It isn’t easy . . . I need you to bear with me.” His tone is soft, raw, and filled with emotion. It tugs at my heartstrings, and the carefully erected wall I’ve built melts away.

  “You have my attention,” I answer in the same soft tone. That’s it—a small searing look from him, and I turn to mush. My tough attitude melts away. My heart beats at a staccato pace as I wait for him to say the words I’ve been wanting to hear for so long. I was wrong, Sloane, I want you now and always.

  “I’ve never considered a relationship before I started to spend more time with you.” He pauses, biting his lower lip. The light turns green, and he presses the gas pedal, pulling his attention away from me. Shit! He can’t say those words and just stop.

  The car comes to a halt as we wait in traffic. “It made me realize I’ve been running from some issues . . . issues that prevent me from wanting to take things further with you.” His gaze looking lost and torn.

  Fuck! Wow! My head is spinning. “Can you maybe elaborate? I’m sorry, but you’re being vague. I don’t mean to push, but I want to understand what’s going through your head.”

  He nods a few times, like he’s convincing himself of something. “The accident fucked with my head. My mind is sometimes a dark place to be, but it didn’t matter because my lifestyle . . . it worked for me. The non-commitment, parties—they were easy ways not to deal with shit. My life was smooth sailing before you, well, before you showed up to the gala wearing that green dress I got you.” He winks and smiles, no doubt trying to play off the intensity of the conversation we had that night.

  “Oli,” I say as a faint whisper.

  “Seriously though.” His face straightens, the skin over his chiseled jaw turning taut. “I’m fucked up, Sloane. I didn’t mean to not be in touch after the night we shared . . .” He pauses, a dark look washing over him. “I have issues to work out,” he admits as he pulls up to my building. I sit and wait for him to finish what he has to say. “Thing is, I think for now, we need to be friends.”

  His words pierce me like a jellyfish sting, so unexpected that they create a slow burning through my heart.

  He shakes his head. I can’t believe he’s feeding me this friend-zone garbage again. I want to scream and basically lose it on him. Instead, I take a long breath, trying to gather my emotions so I don’t say something I will regret later.

  As if reading my thoughts, he says, “Don’t look at me like that.” His brows furrow together, and he looks sorrowful. “This isn’t a ‘let’s be friends’ speech. This is me saying I need to get my shit together and figure things out because I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Great, so this is Oli in his Mr. Nice Guy uniform, trying to do the right thing. This is the reason I began to like him in the first place—because he always tried to do right by his sister, my best friend. The thing is, I know he has demons. I met him a few months after his parents were killed and yes, I was enthralled with his good looks, but after spending time with him and Flynn, I realized he operated on autopilot. Playing for the NHL, parties, women, making sure his twin sister, had a bubble around her so she wouldn’t break from grief. I don’t think Oli had anyone to lean on because Flynn was too fragile, and his best friend, Myles, lived in another city.

  “You don’t want to hurt me,” I repeat his words. Truth is, I know he’s broken. How can he not be after everything he’s been through? I know from Flynn a little bit about Myles’ issues with the accident, and heard his heart-wrenching speech the night of the Mothers Against Drunk Driving gala. All their lives were changed forever.

  As much as I want to tell him that friendship isn’t enough for me, and that I would rather not see him, I can’t do it. I just don’t have it in me. I’m already in way too deep, more than I anticipated after just one night.

  I massage the sides of my temples, trying to come up with the right thing to say. “I get it,” I say, hoping that I truly do.

  He lets out a breath. “Good.” He places a hand over his h
eart. “I like hanging out with you. I don’t want that to stop,” he admits with a small smile. I can’t say the same, because I feel like we’ve entered some grey zone in our relationship. Will he date other women? Has he already fucked other women on his road trip? I don’t know that I can handle just being his friend, but I also know I can’t walk away now and wonder what might have been. And this last month of not seeing him at all felt terrible.

  He lifts his thumb up to my cheek and brushes it against my skin. His touch lights me on fire. “I’ll be in touch.”

  I need space to process everything that just happened. He was so vague, yet there was a deeper meaning behind his words. It’s clearly hard for him to communicate his feelings. I’m assuming he isn’t used to it.

  “Bye, Oli. Thanks for the ride.” I force a smile and leave his car. Fuck, how did I end up here?

  I head to my apartment in a daze. My future is uncertain, yet there is one thing I know for sure: Oliver Russell is a part of me. I will take what I can get, and pray that my heart will be in one piece when it’s all over.

  One month later

  “Hey, so are we meeting up for drinks tonight?” I ask Flynn as I lie back on my couch on a Saturday morning with my cell pressed to my ear.

  “Sorry, babe, babies don’t feel well. They were up all night, coughing. I took them to the pediatrician today and he said it’s just viral, but still they’re so small,” she coos.

  “Oh no. I hope they feel better soon,” I say.

  “”Thanks. I don’t want to leave them alone with Myles. Kevin’s cough sounds pretty bad. Every time my poor boy coughs, Myles picks him up and wants to run to the emergency room.” She laughs lovingly. Flynn’s babies are completely adorable. I love them with all my heart.

  I never really pictured myself in a doting motherly role like her though, since I worry I’d be like my own mother and pass the poor baby off to go out and socialize.

  “I swear I never pictured tough Myles being such a neurotic father,” she continues. “Besides, he’s leaving tomorrow for over a week, so I think it’s best I stay in anyway,” she says in an apologetic tone.

  “Schnookums, don’t feel the need to apologize. I love that you’re such a dedicated mom and wife. I know I’ll never become a mom, so I’m grateful to have you and the kids in my life. I hope the kiddos feel better soon.” I get up from the couch and head to the bathroom to look in the mirror since I want to head out to grab a coffee from Starbucks. I’ve been taking walks on my own outside again—only short distances, but it’s definitely an improvement. Those Krav Maga classes are doing their job with helping me rebuild my self-confidence.

  “Sloane,” she berates me with a huff. “I hate to hear you speak that way. My brother’s got issues, but there are other fish in the sea.” She sighs.

  I told her about Oli and I sleeping together and how he pushed me away before deciding to friend zone me. Problem is, I see him all the time. It’s agony spending so much time with him while knowing his head and heart aren’t into a relationship with me. When he said to give him time to wrap his head around the idea of settling down a month ago, I didn’t think he would need an eternity.

  “He’s my brother and I love him. I tried speaking to him about all this but he’s as stubborn as hell. Myles also said he’s a hard-headed idiot,” she guffaws.

  “Thanks for trying. I love you guys for it.” I let out a long breath as defeat washes over me. After our last conversation, Oli spent another month traveling and conquering his dreams. Now he’s back home. “I need to be realistic about him. He’s been open and honest from the start. Just because I can’t control my feelings for him doesn’t make him a bad guy. Maybe I’ll give that guy who paid for my coffee at Starbucks yesterday a call. He seemed nice enough . . . cute.” I try to convince myself, but the thought doesn’t spark any excitement.

  Flynn groans. “You’re such a Starbucks whore.”

  I chuckle. “A damn proud Starbucks whore. Too bad I can’t be called another type of whore.” I laugh and lock the door behind me then head to the elevator. It would be nearly impossible for me to reach whore status since Oli now takes up most of my free time when he’s in town and not training. Our friendly relationship has been very unhealthy for me in that sense. He’s a definite vagina blocker. Problem is, I’m not so sure I’m cock-blocking him.

  Flynn snickers, bringing me back to reality. “We both know you aren’t calling that guy to go out. You’ll probably end up hanging out with my brother,” she says, and it sounds like she thinks it’s a bad idea too. I leave my building and step outside to a muggy summer day.

  “Do I sense negativity in your tone?” I ask sarcastically as I walk down the street. It’s a sunny morning, and the warm breeze brushes across my face. These days, I’m either hanging out with Oli or going to Starbucks.

  “I don’t know if it’s good for you to be spending all your free time with my brother. I mean, I’m glad you guys have become good friends, but if you like him and it isn’t going anywhere . . .” Her voice trails off. Her words come from a place of worry and love, but still carry an unintended sting, even though deep down I’ve been telling myself the same thing.

  “You sound like my mother.”

  “You did not just say that to me.” She sounds offended.

  “Mama sex guru thinks I’m hanging with him since it’s easy to be with the unattainable. She thinks I’m using Oli as a scapegoat for the real problem.” I sigh and let out a heavy breath not wanting to think of the real problem.

  “I can’t believe you’re still speaking with your mother about sex,” Flynn guffaws. “But honestly, this time around I think she may be onto something. We now know your vagina isn’t hostile.” She snickers. “Let’s be honest—it’s unlike you to put up with the shit my brother’s been shoveling. Which tells me you’re running away from a relationship, just like him. Two peas in a pod, only you two aren’t sharing the same pod. You are in separate pods, and unless you’re willing to deal with your own past, I’m scared you’re going to get stuck in this state of nothingness.”

  I let out a heavy breath. “Don’t I know it. Fuck! Do you think I want to be in this ridiculous state? It fucking sucks, and I am so . . .” I stop myself from saying my next words, because Flynn doesn’t need to hear how sexually frustrated I am. I think my vagina may actually curl up and shrivel away from lack of use.

  “Go out with Starbucks guy. Forget about Oli,” Flynn says.

  “Really? This coming from the girl who went to great lengths to try and set us up on a long car ride to Canada?”

  “Yup, I can admit when I’m wrong,” she answers, and I hate that her words burn through my chest, but she’s right. Oli and I are driving in opposite directions on the freeway. There is no chance of a collision. She’s right I can’t continue on this way.

  “’Kay, I just got to Starbucks. Give Kev and Patty a kiss for me. I hope they feel better soon.”

  “Bye,” she replies, and the phone goes dead.

  My chest feels tight as I walk into Starbucks. Oli can’t be Mr. Wrong because I’m still so attracted to him. That hasn’t changed, even though I know it takes more than an attraction for a relationship to work. It requires the other party to actually want to be involved with you too.

  A few minutes later, I leave with my frappe in hand. As the warm sun beats down my back, I draw a cool sip of sugary goodness. Both Flynn and my mom have a point. I need to somehow confront my past. I’m just not strong enough to do it. I can at least admit that to myself now. Besides, my life doesn’t completely suck. I can pay my bills and have some leftover cash. My apartment rocks. I have good friends. You can’t have everything in life. I truly shouldn’t complain. Having a father as a pastor has taught me to appreciate modesty. At least I’m not a twenty-seven-year-old virgin anymore—that’s one less item on my bucket list. Now to check off ‘find the man of my dreams and live happily after.’ Okay, maybe that item is going to prove harder than breaking my hymen.<
br />
  Twenty-Seven

  Sloane

  I’m officially pathetic. It’s a Saturday night, and I’m curled up on my couch with a pint of Halo Top chocolate mocha chip ice cream, since I don’t want my loathing to add to my behind, and I’m watching The Wedding Planner because I’m a masochist. I take a bite of the ice cream and moan at its deliciousness. Just as I’m indulging in the frozen goodness, something whisks across my family room floor in the dark. I flinch and keep my eyes on the floor, but I must have just hallucinated. It looked like a shadow moving at the speed of light.

  I refocus my attention on the movie. It’s at the part when Jennifer Lopez has to act like she’s never met Matthew McConaughey. Fuck, he’s cute.

  Suddenly, bam, it happens again, and this time it was no hallucination. I have a fucking mouse in my apartment. I scream at the top of my lungs and stand on top of my couch. Considering I live on my own, it’s a poor-ass solution. I amble across the room, holding my breath as I make a straight line to my front door. In haste, I slip on the closest available shoes, Jimmy Choo ankle-sandal booties with a four-inch heel I splurged on last week. I would have preferred a full-on boot to protect my feet from the mouse, but beggars can’t be choosers, and right now, I need my feet covered.

  I was hoping to wear these shoes the next time I saw Oli because they make my legs look sexier than hell. The fact that I have stooped to this level to win him over makes me cringe, and Flynn’s words run through my mind. Oli and I are two peas in different pods. We aren’t going to work.

  I don’t have time to scrounge around my closet for another pair of shoes because if I turn my back, the damn mouse might make a run for it again. There’s no way I’m letting that sucker come near me or let him out of my sight. I’m terrified. As my heart beats rapidly in my chest, I think of my next move. I have my cell in my hand, but there really isn’t an emergency service to call for a mouse problem, and Flynn is too far away. In my sexy-as-hell heels and PJ’s, I make a mad dash toward my kitchen and pick up the broom. I need a weapon if that sucker is gonna make an unexpected appearance. From the kitchen, I flick on all the lights in the main room of my apartment and dash back to the couch. There’s no way I can be on the floor if that thing decides to make another run across my apartment.