by Debra Kayn
Her brows rose and her mouth opened as she took in her bare apartment. Finally, she dropped the bike with a clattering thunk. He stepped toward her, but she put her hand up, stopping him. This was not the reaction he’d imagined receiving.
“Where are my things?” she said.
He tightened his lips over his teeth. For the first time, he wondered if he’d pushed her too fast. He thought women liked surprises, and she’d liked the phone he fastened to her bike earlier. Clearing an apartment out wasn’t much different. “About a half hour away, heading north on I-5, in a moving van.”
She looked at him, looked at her bare room, and settled her gaze on her bike lying at her feet. Fuck. He was in trouble.
“I know how much you still have to do with your clients; I thought I’d settle things here at your apartment. I already paid the rest of your lease, since you won’t be working downstairs in the gym to keep up your end of the agreement. I gave your food to the Fredricksons because they need all the help they can get living on social security, and I knew you’d want to help them,” he said, hating the way he sounded desperate. “Now you can concentrate on making your contacts and we’ll be ready to go tonight without leaving anything behind to worry about.”
She stepped over the bike and walked down the hall without saying a word. He blew out his cheeks and expelled the air while she was gone. She was supposed to be happy. They were starting a new life together. He’d taken care of everything, and all she had to do was concentrate on being happy.
Crista returned to the living room with both his bags hanging from her sides. She approached him and dropped the luggage at his feet.
His chest tightened. “What’s wrong?”
“Get out,” she whispered.
He stared in disbelief. Her eyes shone bright with emotion and her chin pointed at him in disapproval. He shook his head, trying to understand what he’d done wrong and came back empty. Okay, he’d cleared her apartment out without her asking, or actually giving her consent on moving in with him, but this was Crista. She’d come around and when they were in the air, flying to Washington, she’d be thankful for all his hard work.
“Sweetheart, give me—”
“Get out.” She crossed her arms and stepped away from him. “I’m not leaving with you, and I’m not moving in with you. If our friendship means anything to you, give me that much without arguing with me.”
“What the fuck is going on?” he mumbled, refusing to move an inch. “I love you.”
The words seemed to bounce off her. She closed her eyes an extra beat and when she gazed back at him, she wasn’t really looking at him. He reached for her and she trembled, so he dropped his hand. He hated seeing her upset and pushing him away, and he hated not knowing what had happened.
Respecting her, he kept his distance. “You’re killing me.”
“That’s the last thing I’d want to do,” she said, her voice hollow and lacking her normal joy for life. “But if you don’t leave, you’re going to rip my heart out and I don’t know if I can survive when that happens. Please. Go. Please.”
She frightened him. Something had happened, and he was damn sure her change in attitude had nothing to do with him packing up her apartment. She’d been right there with him this morning in bed, rocking his world, blowing his mind, and loving every second of it.
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I’ll give you space.”
She remained quiet. He inhaled deeply. “I have an hour before we have to leave for the airport. I’ll go down to the beach and come back in thirty min—”
“No.” She sniffled. “I’m not going with you, and you’re leaving.”
The hell he’d leave her alone like this. “I’m calling Shauna, and she’s going to talk to the other girls. I’m not going to leave you alone. If you won’t talk to me, talk to them, okay?”
She pinched her lips together and nodded.
He stepped toward her one more time, backing her against the wall. She could protest all she wanted, but he was damned if he was going to walk away from her without her knowing how much it hurt him to drop everything.
He hooked her neck and held her in place. Tension warmed his fingertips, and he brought his forehead down on hers. “Don’t think I’m running away, sweetheart. You’ve left me no choice. I have to go to Moses Lake, but I am not giving up on us, on you. I’ll call you tonight, and if you don’t want to talk, I’ll call you tomorrow morning. I’ll keep trying to talk with you until I’m done in Washington and I can get my ass back here to you. I love you, don’t you forget that.”
She gazed at his feet. He pulled back on her hair, raising her face to his. Her eyes heated, and she shuddered from his touch. She could deny everything, but he saw her respond. He kissed her softly, barely touching her lips with his, and sighed heavily. “Love you, sweetheart.”
She dropped her chin to her chest again, and he stepped away, picked up his luggage, and walked away from her. He closed the door softly behind him, and stood in the hallway, beaten.
Without wasting time, he pulled out his cell phone and called Shauna. But the call only added to his frustration and feelings of being useless when he couldn’t answer any of her questions.
“I hope to hell Grayson told you what’s going on with me and Crista,” he said as soon as Shauna said hello.
“Uh, yeah. I knew something was up when we visited California, so I asked him. He talked,” she said.
“Then tell me why Crista’s making me leave,” he said. “She won’t listen, and fuck … you should see her. It looks like someone ripped her heart out, and her devastation is aimed at me. I don’t know what I did.”
“Listen, honey. When a woman won’t even be in the same apartment complex with you, something is seriously wrong,” Shauna said.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He clamped his hand on the back of his neck and rotated his shoulders. “She’s scaring me. Crista never lets anything get her down and she’s about as low as I’ve ever seen her. She always talks to me and a few minutes ago, she barely even looked at me. I need you to fly out here and be with her. Someone needs to make sure she’s okay.”
“Okay. Let me get ahold of Grayson at the tennis center and have him come home and watch the baby. I’ll be on the first flight I can get. Meanwhile, I’ll talk to the other girls and see if Crista happened to call one of them. I’ll keep you posted,” Shauna said.
“Thank you. Call me. Whatever you hear or don’t, I want to know.” He disconnected the phone.
In his head, he knew he was doing the only thing he could manage to do. In his heart, he hurt for Crista. He loved her, and wanted to do more.
He stepped closer to the apartment door and leaned against the wood, straining to hear anything coming from Crista, but the apartment remained quiet. He left the door and walked to the elevator as if he’d never see her again. Nothing was real.
They’d never fought before. They’d bickered, they’d teased, and they’d grown tired of each other’s company in the past, but she had never pushed him away. If he weren’t due for a tournament, he’d stick around town and keep trying to talk with her. But he had to compete.
His tourneys paid his bills and allowed him to travel the world. Not to mention, he was the reigning world-class bass fisherman of the fucking world, and he wasn’t giving that title up any day soon. He exhaled loudly. Hell, he’d give the title up if that meant having her back with him and happy.
The elevator doors opened and Janelle stepped forward and laid her hand flat on his chest. “Oh, Bruce … you aren’t leaving already, are you?”
His body turned cold. “Go find someone else to bother, Janelle.”
“Bruce … ” Her lower lip came out and she leaned against him. “Is that any way to talk to your girlfriend’s best friend?”
He slung one of his bags into the elevator and grabbed her wrist before she could do anything else to embarrass herself. “You go
near Crista, and you’ll find yourself shacking up with your manager and out of an apartment. I don’t want you going near Crista or even saying her name. Do you understand me?”
She scoffed. “You can’t kick me out of my apartment.”
“Try me.” He dropped her arm and skirted around her. “Money talks, babe, and I have plenty around to make sure Crista’s happy. If that means getting you away from her and out of this apartment complex, I’ll do it. Cast your line somewhere else because we’re both done with you.”
Janelle glared and pursed her lips, creating wrinkles where real skin ended and Botox started. He pushed the lobby button on the panel of the elevator and watched the doors close, blocking out the woman who made Crista upset half the time she came around. He had no idea what had made him think Janelle was a catch. Crista was spot on. Janelle was a barracuda.
He rode the elevator down to the first floor, checked his watch, and headed to his rental car. He had two hours free, and he might as well turn in the vehicle and check in with Shauna again to make sure she was able to get away. One thing he was sure of, he wouldn’t get on the plane without knowing someone was taking care of Crista. No matter if he blew the tournament and stayed in Cali. Crista’s happiness meant more than money or his career.
Chapter Seventeen
According to her wristband pedometer, Crista had walked four and a quarter miles since Bruce left. She continued to pace the apartment. Her chest ached and despite the small area, now bare of her belongings and what she couldn’t deem as real exercise, she panted for breath.
She hurt worse than anything she’d ever experienced.
Her stomach spasmed. Her heart raced. Her head pounded.
Most of all, she was numb and had to keep reminding herself that Bruce had cheated on her. He might not have actually screwed Janelle, but he’d had her in the apartment keeping her busy. She sniffed and pivoted on her foot to continue marching down the hallway.
He’d ripped her heart out and left her vulnerable. She pressed her hand to her chest without missing a step. She hated being vulnerable.
She sniffed. I will not cry.
Worst case scenario, she’d still see Bruce in social gatherings any time their group of friends got together in Cottage Grove or at an Olympian event. Her friends would expect her. His friends would demand Bruce’s appearance. She stumbled and caught herself on the wall. God, how could she see him again knowing what they had, what they could do in bed together, what he meant to her?
She held her breath and squeezed her eyes closed. I will not cry.
Bolstering through the pain, she forced herself to keep moving. She sought the place where her mind emptied and her body moved automatically. Only in the athletic zone would she escape the pain of his betrayal and the worst day of her life.
The doorbell rang. She froze. He wouldn’t come back and blow any chance of them remaining friends, would he?
“Crista, open the door,” a voice sounding exactly like Shauna’s penetrated her apartment.
Relief swept through her, leaving her shaky. Bruce had kept his word on calling in the girls to take care of her. She ran to the door, flung it open, and soaked in all the female karma coming from Shauna, Dana, Diana, and—she blinked at Gary’s wife Angie. Her vision blurred, and before she could motion them inside, they’d surrounded her. Protected within the safety of her girls, she finally allowed herself to do what she never succumbed to in competition.
She cried.
She’d lost.
She’d failed.
Arms gently guided her inside. With her friends’ help, she sat on the floor, bookended by Shauna and Diana on each side of her. She held her face in the palms of her hands and gasped through the sobs. Between wails of self-pity and sorrow, she told them every little detail.
The mixed feelings, the declaration of love, Bruce’s fascination with Janelle, her own lack of confidence, and most of all how much finding out Bruce invited Janelle to her apartment hurt her. She had no idea how long she talked, but she continued until her eyes were swollen and she’d destroyed a half a box of Kleenex.
When she couldn’t cry any more, she leaned against Diana and stared at Dana who sat on the floor across from her. Juan’s pretty, kindhearted wife wiped the tears from her own face, making Crista feel even worse. Every one of them came from a different background, but they had one thing in common: their men were all professional athletes just like Bruce.
“I’m sorry.” She lifted her head off Diana and swiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I don’t know why I fell apart. I never do this, and I didn’t mean to put all of you in a bad position, being Bruce’s friends, too. I would never have called you … not yet. Bruce should’ve just left, and forgotten about me.”
“That’s part of your problem.” Diana nudged her with her shoulder. “You’re strong and badass. Bruce—God, he’s like the rest of our men. He’ll treat you like you’re incapable of putting a new toilet paper roll on the hanger. It’s a jock trait. He’s bound to take care of you and if he can’t do it, he’ll call everyone he knows to fix the problem.”
“Great … ” She curled her lip. “Now I’m a problem.”
“We’re not saying that,” said Shauna. “It’s just that I heard Bruce’s voice. He seemed sincere, and he was scared. Our guys don’t get scared unless there’s a reason to be worried.”
“Yeah, he’s scared I caught him with the bitch down the hall,” Crista muttered. “He pushed and pushed me, and now I’ve lost all my belongings.”
“I love when Juan forces me to let him make the decisions.” Dana crawled closer and sprawled out on her stomach near Crista. “Before I met him, you should’ve seen me. I walked around as if I had a stick up my ass and I was late for the business deal of my life. Because he never gave up or pressured me about my need to organize every little detail, I found out it was okay if I wasn’t always in charge. The weird part was, I needed to use him as an excuse to step back and calm down.”
Crista drew up her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs. Was that what she was doing? No … she’d already decided to step back from competing and concentrate on training others before he’d shown up. Bruce had fallen into her plans; he hadn’t tried to change her.
“There’s more to it than personalities clashing or one of us wanting to change.” She plopped her chin on her upturned knees. “He coerced me into setting him up with Janelle. We totally baited her. I helped him get close to her. He came to me … okay, I went to him afterward, but we both know he wanted Janelle before me. She’s perfect. You all would hate her on sight.”
Shauna snorted. “Damn right. Any woman who stabs any one of us girls in the back gets put on our hate-for-life list.”
“We have a list?” Diana raised her brows. “Who’s on it?”
“Every bitch that Grayson ever dated, dreamed about, talked to, or looked at more than three seconds,” Shauna said. “Including the sixty-two-year-old cashier at the store back home. Little slut, always helping him load the cart and taking it to his car for him … and he lets her.”
Angie nodded. “Gary’s old one night stands are on the list, too. Not the ones who flirted with him and failed. Just the ones he slept with.”
“Every woman in the world, except the ones in this room, and especially the woman who gave Juan that stupid nickname. If I knew who she was, I’d punch her in the throat,” Dana said.
“Amante Español,” Shauna muttered. “Sexy name, but wrong … so wrong.”
Even though they were trying to make her feel better, they were all forgetting one important thing. She inhaled and swallowed so hard, they all heard the gulp. “It’s different. You all have your man in your life. I don’t. Bruce is my best friend … no offense, but he gets me. I lost everything today because I couldn’t win over Janelle. I can’t see him again because it’ll destroy me, and that means I’ll never be around when everyone gets together. I just can’t. It feels like I’m dying and he’s only been gone a
few hours.”
To her surprise, through the pain, she was also angry, and that antagonism was directed at Janelle. Crista had sat back and watched her so-called friend go after every man in the apartment complex who had a girlfriend or worse, was married. Instead of telling her off for the bitch she was, she’d tried to remain on friendly terms because they were neighbors.
Enough was enough though, and if someone didn’t stop Janelle’s nasty little habit, the supermodel was going to break up a sacred union. Crista stood, her mind finally made up on how she could solve one of her problems.
“Wait.” Shauna heaved herself off the floor and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
“To cross one bitch off the hate-for-life list,” she said, walking to the door.
“Oh, shit,” Diana said. “She’s going to kill the supermodel.”
“Stop.” Angie ran to the door and blocked Crista from leaving. “Let’s talk about this. Maybe there’s more to the story and Bruce is innocent. Have you ever thought of that?”
“Innocent? Janelle answered my phone. Bruce was with her, I heard his voice. There’s nothing more to say,” Crista reached around Angie’s slim waist and pulled on the door, forcing her friend to move away. “I’m done feeling sorry for myself and comparing how I look and act to a woman who fried her brain from all the hair dye and diet drugs she’s abused for the last five years. She’s not ruining my life or anyone else’s, ever again.”
She marched out of the apartment, down the hall, and knocked on Janelle’s door. When Janelle opened it, Crista said, “For three years, I’ve stood back while you made a fool of yourself by going after everyone’s man in the apartment building, but it stops now.”
“What are you talking about?” Janelle fluffed her hair. “I’m getting ready for a party, and I don’t have time to figure out your simple little problems when I have a big decision to make that involves Armani and Klein.”
Defensive and pissed, Crista planted her foot in the doorway, blocking the door from slamming. “What makes you think you’re better than I am? That you can flirt and steal Bruce away from me?”