Exposed: Book One of The Love Seekers Series

by Vickers, Maria

  When she finally started to come down from her merry high, I grumbled, “It’s funny, but I don’t think it’s that funny.” Then again, I had stewed on the dream for a few days.

  “No! No, you don’t understand.” She gasped for breath, and I worried that she was not getting enough oxygen. Her skin began to turn blue. Yikes.

  I hesitated, but asked, “Okaaaay. Care to explain?”

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to sit up, but fell backwards onto the floor again. Her whole body shook with her mirth.

  “Well?” I demanded, curious as to the reason behind her acting as if she had completely lost her senses.

  She took one more calming breath before she found me with her eyes, a large smile still on her face. “Right after we graduated from high school, I needed to grab something from his house–I don’t even remember what it was now. I knocked and thought I heard him say ‘come in.’ He hadn’t.” Her laughter built up again. “And when…when I walked…ahem…when I walked in, he was dancing to Prince’s 1999.”

  While it shocked me to hear this, it didn’t deserve a reaction as extreme as this. “I see.”

  “No, that’s not all.” She guffawed, laughing until she could barely breathe. “He was stripping, and O.M.G…he started to strip. I didn’t say anything since I wanted to see how long it would take before he noticed me there. He got down to only his socks and his Captain America underwear before I couldn’t take it anymore and started laughing. He heard me and spun around and…and tried to cover up with the curtain, but when he did that, his Captain America ass peeked through the window for all the neighbors to see!” Once again she struggled to breathe from laughing so hard.

  And this time, I joined her. I fell backwards onto my couch barking with laughter. I was very curious what Bryan Sampson looked like stripping as a teenager. Back before the tattoos or before he joined the Navy. Mel once told me that he played football in school and has always been on the muscular side. Him stripping, my mouth watered thinking about it.

  Bad! Bad Emma! If my fascination of him continued, I feared the consequences.

  After pulling herself up onto the couch, she collapsed on the couch and we both continued to laugh as we watched a movie and ate takeout. Imagining Bryan in Captain America underwear doing a striptease would forever be ingrained in my head.

  I thought about it when I went to bed, and when my dog woke me up from yet another Bryan dream, but this time Captain America Underoos replaced Batman.

  And when Bryan finally messaged me the next day, I blushed red and tried to picture him fully clothed instead of in only superhero underwear. I couldn’t do it. Once again chat saved me from embarrassment. I knew if we were on Skype or if he stood in front of me, he would be able to see my pink tinged face. Then again, if we were on the phone, he would probably be able to hear it in my voice.

  Bryan: Hey.

  His greeting popped up short and simple.

  Me: Hey back. Everything okay?

  I really wanted to ask him what he had been doing for the past three days, however, I remained polite.

  Bryan: Yeah. Have I mentioned u r not allowed to become crazy?

  Me: Bwahahaha! Did you get another stalker fan?

  Bryan: Fan?

  Me: Sure. They’re fangirls out for your hot body.

  Bryan: Ha! Not even funny. Not laughing.

  Me: LOL. So what happened?

  I tried not to giggle, but I couldn’t help it and wound up holding my side from laughing too much.

  Bryan: First, I had to pull extra duty shifts because of some bullshit, and then I come home to find that wacko waiting for me.

  Then my roommate brought home a different girl and she tried to convince both of us to fuck her at the same time.

  Not into the whole 3some thing. Not my thing.

  So between all that shit, I’ve been staying off the computer.

  Me: Damn.

  What else was I supposed to say? I sat there blinking at my computer screen in disbelief.

  Bryan: U can say that again.

  Me: Damn. LOL.

  Bryan: Haha. Hilarious. So what u been up to?

  Me: Nothing much.

  Bryan: That sounds like so much fun.

  Me: Yep. My life is the stuff of legends.

  Bryan: I see.

  Me: :P ;)

  Bryan: So r u ready to talk?

  Me: About?

  Bryan: What do u think?

  Me: Weather? LOL.

  Bryan: Funny.

  Me: I thought we already covered that.

  Bryan: We did. LOL. So tell me.

  Me: You first.

  Bryan: Me first? Okay. I have one younger sister, Rayne. She is 6 yrs younger. When she was born, I tried to sell her to my neighbors. I even made a poster and took it over to them.

  Me: LMAO. No, you didn’t. Really?

  Bryan: Really. I don’t really remember doing it, but my parents kept that stupid poster and have photographic evidence.

  They love retelling that story every time the whole family is together. :P

  Me: Your poor sister. LOL.

  Bryan: Yeah, and for some reason she still loves me.

  Me: I wouldn’t. ;)

  Bryan: Well, I’m not trying to sell u. :P

  Me: Good point. So do you get along with your sister now?

  Not trying to sell her anymore?

  Bryan: Nah. I guess I’ll keep her around for a while. LOL. She is one of my closest friends now, but when she was a baby, she cried, ate, and pooped.

  That’s all she was good for.

  Me: Damn babies and their neediness. LOL.

  Bryan: LMAO. Does this mean u don’t like kids?

  Me: I actually love them. U?

  Bryan: They ok. Not sure I want any, but u never know.

  Me: True.

  Bryan: So why did u say life got in the way b4.

  Looked like we were going to be jumping into the deep end with both feet immediately.

  Me: Because it did.

  Bryan: That’s not an answer.

  Me: Did you ever see something and decide it wasn’t for you?

  Bryan: Sure. Who hasn’t?

  Me: That was me in a nutshell in high school.

  Guys were more interested in my sister.

  She basically told me no guy would want me.

  Bryan: WTF?

  Me: Ok, I typed that wrong. I wanted to go to college and already knew what I wanted to major in. If I wanted college, I needed scholarships.

  Bryan: Makes sense.

  Me: I worked my ass off studying and guys were put on the backburner.

  She joined the Navy and during my junior year in high school, told me that no guy would want someone smarter than him. That I needed to stop studying, dumb myself down, and let a guy take care of me.

  Bryan: WHAT?

  Me: I decided I wanted more than depending on a guy.

  Bryan: U should! WTF? And she was in the Navy, not living off a man?

  Me: By the time she said that to me, she had met the man she was going to marry. But yeah.

  Bryan: This is the same sister that Mel is friends with? The same one I met at karaoke?

  Me: My one and only sibling, Ellie.

  Bryan: That’s bullshit.

  Me: I know. It’s why I worked hard to get scholarships.

  Then I had to work my ass off to keep them, and then I worked on my Master’s, which meant grants and loans.

  Then working my ass off to finish my graduate degree.

  Had a couple of forced dates that my roommate would dump on me and the occasional boyfriend, but none of them were my priority.

  That’s about it.

  Bryan: Damn. Life huh?

  Me: Life.

  Bryan: I can see why u didn’t date much, but that doesn’t explain ur self-esteem issues.

  Me: Do we have to talk about that?

  Bryan: Yes. U need help and I’m gonna help, but I need to know.

  Me: Do you have
security clearance for that?

  Bryan: Haha. I’ve got ur clearance.

  Me: I don’t know if you do. I’m not a giant and I haven’t found one yet.

  Bryan: Rofl

  Me: :D hehe

  Bryan: I’m shaking my head at u. Talk to me.

  Me: What’s there to tell? Guys never really paid much attention to me.

  In high school, I was the geeky girl who always had her nose in a book.

  In college, more off the same.

  When I started working, I thought I would finally meet someone, but I only met losers.

  It felt as if the heat in my cheeks increased. Typing might have been impersonal, but the feelings of embarrassment, trepidation, and fear lingered. I wanted to close the chat and pretend none of our conversations ever happened, but at the same time, I reasoned with myself that this would be good for me. I hoped it would.

  Bryan: So u didn’t date much.

  Just a sec. Phone dying. Switching to computer.

  I waited for his return, silently praying he would be called away, and laughing at myself because that went against everything I had decided to do with my life.

  Bryan: Back.

  Me: Welcome back.

  Bryan: Back to the conversation. You didn’t date much.

  Me: Nope. I always thought the guy should ask the girl, and I always wind up tongue tied around guys.

  Bryan: You don’t with me.

  Me: You’re different.

  Bryan: How?

  Me: You’re just Mel’s friend.

  And that’s the way it needed to stay, I thought to myself. It may not have been the only reason, but it worked sufficiently enough. My crush wanted to grow and flourish. The last thing it needed was any further prodding or encouragement. So I reminded myself of his status, and told myself he would remain safely in the friend zone. By keeping him on FS chat instead of actually talking, I remained distant enough and out of reach. Not that he wanted to reach for me.

  Bryan: Ouch.

  Me: No, it’s just…”

  Bryan: I get it.

  Me: I guess I never had confidence in myself. My sister could get a guy at the drop of a hat, and they would take one look at me and never quite understood how to talk to me or act around me.

  Sometimes I wondered if she was right.

  Bryan: She isn’t. I would rather date someone who knew how to use their brain than a complete bimbo.

  Shudders.

  Me: Why the military?

  I decided a change in subject was in order. I needed a break from my situation, from the memories threatening to break free before I found myself back in that bedroom with people laughing at me, teasing me, and my boyfriend doing nothing to stop them. No, not right now. I didn’t want to deal with those memories.

  Bryan: My turn?

  Me: Yep.

  Bryan: Why not? I wanted to serve our country, to fight for it, and protect it.

  Me: And why did you join the Navy?

  Bryan: I grew up near the beach and loved the ocean. It felt like the perfect fit.

  Plus there is nothing like racing up into the air and soaring free when I pilot my jet.

  Me: I can only imagine the rush.

  Bryan: It is. I guess I’m a bit of an adrenaline junky too.

  Me: LOL. I can see that.

  Bryan: What about you? What did you do for an adrenaline rush before? What about now?

  Me: I used to skydive.

  Bryan: Wait. Really? You?

  Me: Yeah me.

  I understood what he meant about soaring free though the sky because I have felt that incomparable feeling whenever I used to skydive. Not many people knew about my penchant for jumping out of planes, especially my family. They would have probably thought I was crazy. However, I actually had several jumps under my belt.

  I missed the feeling of the air rushing over your skin and hair, of gazing into the distance and being able to see for miles where heaven met earth. Up in the sky, there was no worries about tests, school, making the grade, or my job. It was me and the feeling of pure bliss. My heart would race, and as I fell back down to earth, my adrenaline would spike and that familiar anxious feeling would arise. I never wanted the feeling or the rush to end.

  But it did.

  After I got sick, I stopped jumping completely and hadn’t been up since. I longed for that experience again, to feel the air whipping past me. Sadly, as much as I longed to soar through the sky again, I understood what the phrase pipe dream meant. Skydiving was my pipe dream.

  My obsession began in college. During the first semester during my Master’s program, one of my friends convinced me to go up in the plane, and then once I strapped myself to an instructor, I fell out of the plane and experienced nirvana. One time and I was hooked. After that, I would save up extra money from my part–time job and jump as often as I could. Of course after graduation and finding a full–time job, I went more often. Up there, I felt free without a care in the world. I was flying.

  Bryan: And now?

  Lost in my own little world, I had left him hanging for several minutes. Oops. But what did he mean now?

  Me: Now? Nothing. I write, but haven’t done much with it. That’s not really an adrenaline fix though.

  Bryan: Why not go jumping again?

  Was this man serious? Did he not understand? His question felt like a slap in the face.

  Me: I can’t.

  Bryan: Why not?

  I decided Bryan was either delusional or plain mean. Rubbing my chest where a familiar ache started to form, I pressed my other hand against my eyes in an effort to prevent the tears from falling. When I thought I was more in control, I responded again.

  Me: Hello? MG?

  Bryan: What the hell is MG?

  Me: Myasthenia gravis. In layman’s terms, I’m constantly fatigued and weak. My muscles don’t absorb the chemical from the nerve properly, and therefore, do not work as they should.

  It can affect any voluntary muscles in the body. Throat, eyes, legs, arms, mouth, breathing, etc.

  Bryan: Oh.

  Me: Yeah.

  Now he would realize how broken I really was and bid me farewell like so many others before him. If he didn’t, his gaze would be filled with pity, and I would hate him for that.

  Bryan: So why can’t you jump again?

  Wait! What? Did he really ask that stupid question again? Did he have rocks for brains? Did he like hurting me?

  Me: Because I’m sick.

  Bryan: You have a disease, you’re not dead. You might not be able to land on your own, but you can do a tandem jump with someone. It is possible.

  What? I hadn’t thought of that. A tandem jump? When I first started skydiving, I did several tandem jumps in order to learn how to skydive and then to train. Why hadn’t I thought of a tandem jump? Oh because after MG took over and claimed my body, my life changed and I never considered alternate possibilities for things like skydiving.

  There were other issues though. I struggled to breathe most days, so I didn’t know if they would allow me to go up or not. I’m not on oxygen or anything, but my normal breaths were shallower than normal.

  I would have loved to skydive one more time. To freefall and glide through the air. Nothing beat that feeling.

  Me: I don’t know. Maybe?

  Bryan: You asking me?

  Me: LOL. Maybe.

  Bryan: LMAO. I gtg. Have a date tonight and I need to get ready.

  I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Think of more questions little birdy.

  A date? That stung, but I reminded myself that he did not belong to me. We hardly knew each other and lived on opposite sides of the country. His only obligation, if I could call it that, was to advise me on how to get over my little (big) slump. That was all.

  Scrunching up my nose after re–reading his comment, I snickered.

  Me: Little birdy? :s

  Bryan: Yes.

  Me: Fine. TTYL.

  I kind of liked the thought of hi
m calling me little birdy, even if I didn’t know why he did it. The nickname was something between us, something only we shared, and that made me feel special.

  And later that night when my phone chimed with that annoying FS chat alert, I shot up in bed, startled out of slumber, because for some reason my ringer had been turned up to full volume, and squinted at my phone. My irritated expression switched to bewilderment almost immediately. Bryan messaged me. Odd, considering he was supposed to be out on a date.

  Bryan: What up?

  Me: Uh…nothing. Do you realize it 2am here?

  Bryan: It is?

  A couple of minutes passed and I thought maybe he had decided to disconnect the conversation when he realized how late it was. But that became wishful thinking.

  Bryan: Huh. U r right.

  Me: Are you drunk?

  Bryan: Maybe. LOL

  Me: Goodnight.

  Bryan: Wait! Bad date. Didn’t even make it past dinner.

  I rolled my eyes and ran my hand through my hair. In that moment, I knew I was going to ask because he expected it, and because I was curious, even if I wanted to slap him too. Slap or kiss? Both? No. No kissing. I would not allow myself to feel anything for him only to have my heart crushed.

  Me: What grievous sin did she commit?

  Bryan: Slurped her soup and tried to give me a foot job in the restaurant.

  Her feet stank.

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. Curley only lifted his head and dropped it down again, but I was pretty sure my dog shot me a look of annoyance.

  Me: Oh, how horrible.

  Did that sound sympathetic enough? I hoped so because I could not quell my laughter. Good thing he was either drunk or really buzzed.