Looking defeated, E.J. sighed. “Look, this is a disaster for me too. It’s a bigger disaster.” His eyes welled with tears. “I’m fighting for everything here. I’m fighting for Edge’s life -- his future. Our future.” As if he was close to bursting from the stress of it all, E.J. spoke at rapid fire, telling me everything he was feeling. “She wants to take my son. My little boy. I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”
All of the anger and disappointment I’d wrestled with had to be cast aside. I think, for the first time in our lives, I finally understood who E.J. was behind the mask he wore. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help, but I’ve never been in this situation before. You could have given me a heads up. That would have at least helped me to know something big was happening.”
E.J. scrubbed his face with the backs of his hands. “Man, I didn’t come here to cry. I came here to talk to you. I wanted to explain I had nothing to do with whatever happened with my ex-wife. I never touched her. Not like that.” Sighing, he added, “She hates me. That’s why she’s doing all this.”
I felt sorry for him. To think someone hated someone -- the person they had a child with -- as much as this woman apparently hated him, made me sad.
He took a seat on my sofa, slumping down into it. “I’m going to lose my boy,” he said as his shoulders started to quake.
I didn’t have the heart to admonish him for the problems he’d created for me. My heart begged for me to comfort him. I had to. I sat down next to him and offered him my hand.
E.J. lifted his head up, deep pain in his eyes. He moved his head closer to mine. Heat penetrated between us.
I couldn’t resist. I closed my eyes instinctively, waiting for him to kiss me.
Chapter Ten – Razor
She played right into my hands. I told Kelly I knew what I was doing. Women loved me. Even my skank ex-wife still technically loved me. That’s why she was making my life a living hell right now. She wanted me. She needed me because without me, her life fell right back to where it started -- nowhere. I wasn’t a fool. I knew what it took to make women do what I wanted, whenever I wanted them to.
Hillary stepped out of the shower, a fluffy white towel wrapped around her. “Good morning,” she offered, her cheeks blushing.
“Good morning yourself, gorgeous,” I replied, taking in her curves. “You look hot.”
She put her head down shyly. “I should probably get dressed. Give me a few minutes. If you want; there’s some coffee in the kitchen.”
Coffee? Yeah, I didn’t come here for coffee, but if that’s what it would take to keep her on my side, then, I’d drink it. “Thanks. How do you like yours?” I asked as I climbed out of her bed.
While I let her finish getting dressed, I made a beeline for the kitchen to grab my phone and check my messages. As expected, there were at least a dozen phone calls from Kelly and a couple from friends and my coach. With all that had been going on in my life, I’d gotten sidetracked and had to skip a couple of practices, but I promised my coach, I’d make an appearance today. First, I had to close the deal with Hillary. I had to make sure she was ready for what I had in mind.
As I poured the cups of coffee, I noticed an open box of photos next to the kitchen counter. I figured, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. I had technically known Hillary most of my life, so the chances of me recognizing someone in the photos were pretty high.
I perused through them and found nothing particularly interesting, at first. There were what looked like family photos and photos from her college days. I thought, I recognized the school secretary as one of the people in the photos. Then, underneath it all, wrapped in tissue, were other photos. Wedding photos.
“What are you doing?” Hillary’s voice startled me. I hadn’t heard her come down the hallway.
With the evidence in my hand, I couldn’t deny I was snooping through her photos. I figured it was better to tell her the truth -- this once. “Sorry. I thought I recognized some of the people in the pictures. Is this the school secretary? The gal who was here? What’s her name again?”
“Her name is Felicia and yes, that’s her. But the big photo in front of you… she’s not in it. That’s my wedding photo,” she said, her voice breaking. “Put it away, please.”
I felt like an ass. It was obvious those photos were a sensitive subject. So much for trying to sway her to do what I needed her to do. I blew it. The pain in her eyes distracted me. I couldn’t think fast enough. I didn’t know how to recover from what I’d done. I was busted.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to upset you. I’ll put it back,” I offered, rushing to tuck the photo underneath the others.
“No, you can leave it there. I’ll put it away later. Why were you looking through my things? What were you looking for?”
Damn, how I wished I could turn the clock back to a few hours earlier when I had her legs up over my shoulders and her nails in my back. Way to go, playboy! Way to go! What was I going to do now?
It was time to remedy this situation, and fast. “Come here. Let me hold you,” I said, opening my arms for her slide into. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
She looked up at me, tears in her eyes. “It’s… pictures are hard for me. I have a hard time.”
In that moment, I realized how much pain she was in. I hadn’t even considered how much she was going through. I didn’t even ask her about her late husband. I was so focused on trying to trick her into pretending to be my future wife, I didn’t so much as take a second to consider everything she’d been through over the last couple of years. Now, I really needed to hold her, to comfort her.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her rigid body to me. “Please, forgive me. I was being selfish. Let me make you feel better.”
She shifted in my arms. “I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I used to have it all together. Nothing ever bothered me. I used to let stuff roll off my shoulders. Things are so mixed up in my head these days.”
I felt like an ass. When did I turn into such a jerk?
“Tell me about him,” I said.
Hillary’s body went rigid again. “Seriously? You want to hear about him?”
I nodded, caressing her back. “Yes, tell me about him. Tell me about your life together.”
Her shoulders started to quake.
Sniffling, she whispered, “I’m so sorry. I feel stupid for crying in front of you. How dumb is it to start crying about your dead husband on the morning after you slept with another man?”
I didn’t have an answer for her. Holding her in my arms the way I was, did something to me. I couldn’t imagine ever not holding her close to me. It’s like she and I fit together perfectly. I’d never experienced that feeling before with another woman.
She tilted her head up toward me. “Are you okay?”
I kissed the top of her head, emotion welling in my throat. “Perfect. I’m perfect. Let’s sit down. Tell me about you. I want to know everything. I want to know about all the happiest moments of your life and all the sad moments and everything in between.”
Hillary placed her small hand in mine and led me over to the sofa. “Let’s make a deal,” she started, “if I tell you all about me, you have to tell me everything about you. I mean, everything. Tell me how your life -- your love life -- got to this point.”
I gulped. Damn, she was asking for a lot. I hoped what I said wouldn’t send her running for the hills because my love life was a series of one disaster after another.
We sat down on her large sectional sofa -- almost too large for the room -- but incredibly comfortable, like home. I pulled her to me, enveloping her in my embrace. I don’t know if it was to comfort her or myself more, but her warmth and touch made my spine tingle.
There was a long silence between us, our fear palpable.
“He was everything,” she blurted out. “He made me so happy. All the time.”
I swallowed hard.
She’d only said a few simple words and I already understood how difficult it would be for someone as inadequate as myself to compete with him.
“Sam was like no one I’d ever met before. He was kind and gentle but also tough and fierce at the same time. He always made me feel like I was special. Like I mattered,” Hillary recounted.
“You are special. You do matter,” I said, surprised by my candor with her.
Her cheeks flushing, Hillary put her hand to her face. “I shouldn’t be saying this stuff to you. I should be talking about us. About you and me. About how you make me feel.” Sighing, she added, “It’s like I don’t know how to do this anymore. I don’t know how to be me anymore.”
That was the most heartbreaking thing I’d ever heard a woman say to me. Didn’t she see how great she was? Didn’t she know how beautiful and sexy she was? If I was a better man -- a man, who knew anything about love at all, I’d hold onto her for the rest of my life. But, I’m not that man. I don’t do love. I don’t do forever and ever. I do what’s good for me now. I get done what needs to be done to make sure Edge and I are alright. I don’t need a woman in my life forever. I just needed her -- this woman -- to hang around long enough to make sure I can keep my son. I had to remember that or I’d mess everything up again.
“This is going to sound crazy, but…” Hillary’s voice trailed off for a moment.
“Now we’re talking,” I teased. “Let’s discuss your ass… your butt… your beautiful butt…”
Hillary shifted, moving closer to me. “All of this -- this between us -- feels right and wrong all at the same time. Do you understand what I mean?”
I nodded. “You want me. I think is what it means. In fact, I’m willing to bet that’s exactly what it means,” I said as my hand slid down from its position around her shoulders to her back until it rested on the small of her back -- my favorite place to be at the moment.
Hillary shot up straight, turning to look me in the eyes. “Just hear me out. Being with you kind of feels like I’m cheating on Sam. Is that crazy? As wrong as it sounds, I can’t help but want to be with you. Even though you have me all tied up in your child custody nightmare and you haven’t given me one reason to believe you actually care about me, I still want you and it feels wrong.”
Ouch! Where did that come from?
I grasped her full hips to pull her toward me again. “But it also feels oh-so-right, doesn't it?”
She blushed. “That’s what I’m telling you. I fully intended to never have to see you again, but as hard as I try, I can’t stop. I think about you all the time. You make me so mad, but you also make me want you. How do you do that? Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing with me? Is this what you do to women? Is this how things got so bad for you? I mean, I might be out of a job because of you and yet, here I am. I don’t know what’s happened to me. It’s like I’ve lost my mind or something.”
Hillary was making me lose sight of my goal. I was losing my grip. I could feel it. I had a plan -- an end game -- but listening to her, made me question myself and my motives and I didn’t like it.
“Don’t you have anything to say? Did I scare you?” Hillary asked.
I opened my mouth to speak -- to say something to diffuse the situation and get her back in bed with her legs wrapped around me -- but I couldn’t find the right words. It was like a part of me shut off. “I… I…” I tried.
Her shoulders slumped. “This is just another tryst to you. I get it,” she said, sounding defeated.
Chapter Eleven – Hillary
I sat in my car staring up at the building. After meeting with the superintendent of schools, I was in no better position than I had been the day they suspended me. Basically, he said, it was better I take a hiatus until matters were resolved, but he gave me no explanation as to what exactly that meant. So now, I was officially on standby, but encouraged to seek employment elsewhere in the meantime. Long story short, I was screwed.
Sitting outside the building like a fool wasn’t part of the plan, but since I’d had so much difficulty staying in an upright position when I left the superintendent’s office, I knew I’d not have the wherewithal to drive home safely -- not yet. I was dreading having to tell my new landlord, I might not be able to make my next rent payment. Then, I’d have to make arrangements with the utilities companies and live on bags of noodles until I could start bringing in a regular paycheck again. In the meantime, E.J. -- the reason I got into this mess in the first place -- was living large out in the suburbs in a big, old, fancy house with a staff to cater to his every need.
If there were people nearby, I didn’t notice them. My mind was on all of the problems -- very real problems -- I had in my life. How had things come to this and why? What did I ever do in life to deserve this?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. None of this was my fault. I hadn’t been accused of a crime. I didn’t know anything about E.J.’s ex-wife and I didn’t care. Why did I need to know anything about her? I wasn’t E.J.’s girlfriend. And, even if I was, why did that automatically make me her enemy?
“This is bullshit!” I pulled my keys out of my bag and turned my car on, prepared to have a conversation with the jackass football player who got me into this mess. In the week since I’d seen him last, I’d found more reasons not to like to him. He was a jerk, as far as I was concerned. “A jerk who is going to make this right or have to endure my wrath.”
I pulled out of the lot and onto Belmont Avenue, determined to confront E.J. and set things right for myself. He couldn’t help me with the superintendent or the school board, but watching him squirm would at least make me feel a little better about things. I’d been waffling too long and needed to get these things off my chest before I imploded. I didn’t understand what had gotten into me since I returned home. I accepted a new job, thinking it would be a nice distraction from the heartache. I figured wrong. Although, I loved my job, I was in no way prepared for the stress it added to my life. Least of all, I hadn’t anticipated that a five-year-old like Edge would change everything in my life. When I learned who Edge’s father was, my life fell apart to a degree I never knew existed.
Pulling up in front of E.J’s house only made me angrier. His house was the size of a small town. It looked like the kind of place most people could only dream of stepping foot in one day, let alone live in. All it said to me was life was completely and utterly not fair. The boy who spent his days talking down to people and making fun of every girl and boy he ran across, grew up to be a wealthy man, who used women for his own pleasure and laughed at every other man on the planet. Yet, somehow, I ended up without a job and with no one who loved me and no one left to love. How was it at all fair in the scheme of things?
I left the driver’s side door open in case I lost my nerve after ringing the buzzer on the front gate. All I’d have to do is dash back to my car and hightail it out of town as quickly as my clunker would get me back to the opposite side of the city.
“Razor Residence,” a small female voice said into the intercom.
“Um, hello?” I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’m looking for E.J.”
The woman on the other end asked, “Who can I tell him is here? He doesn’t have an open door policy, you know?” The woman behind the voice giggled.
I could just picture what she looked like. By the sound of the voice, I imagined the woman would be a petite blonde with more boobs than brains. “It’s Hillary. Hillary Jackson. I need to talk to him.”
The intercom went silent.
“Well, damn.” I thought I was being turned away. I had half a mind to hop over the gate and go bang on his front door, but then, the gates hummed and opened slowly. “The great wizard has granted my request to enter.” I jumped back into my car and drove into the drive before they changed their minds.
When I pulled into the circular drive in front of the house, some of the anger I felt had turned to a burning rage. Life was simply not fair.
The front doors opened and out stepped a petite brunette, dressed in business attire. “Hello,” she offered with a friendly wave. “Sorry for the delay at the gate. I didn’t recognize the name, but Razor told me who you were. I apologize.”
“Razor? You call him Razor?” I asked as I walked to the door.
“Yes, everyone calls him Razor.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “What do you call him?”
I got the feeling she was more than curious. “I call him Edgecott -- E.J.”
Her eyes popped open wide. “Really? Hmph, okay. Well, he’s in his office waiting for you.”
I stepped inside the massive foyer. Along the walls were portraits of Edge and his dad mixed in between some vanity photos. “It looks like a museum in here in the daylight.”
The brunette offered a forced smile. “You could say that, but this is his home. That’s his son.”
Razor's Edge: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Boys of Football Book 2) Page 7