Fix Her Up

by Tessa Bailey

  Bethany snorted. “Do you think Kristin would miss a chance to give him a heart attack? She’s doing the Tough Mudder with us.”

  “Shut up.” Georgie gave in to her first laugh of the day. “Well, maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll keel over. You can have all the houses after that.”

  “Fingers crossed,” Bethany muttered, taking a turn off the avenue and bringing them onto an uneven road, trees hanging low on either side. “This is ominous.”

  They bumped down the road for a few minutes, bright orange sign markers guiding their way, before finally reaching the clearing. Tents were set up, advertisements splashed across their canvas tops. Music boomed through loudspeakers. A starting line loomed in the distance. Nerves started to jangle in Georgie’s belly as they parked the car and headed for the check-in. She’d bought new running shoes for the occasion and spent the week breaking them in, and even though they were destined to be ruined with mud, she was grateful to have them upon seeing the other decked-out participants. People took this shit seriously.

  Trying not to be obvious about it, Georgie turned in a circle while waiting in the check-in line, scanning the observation bleachers for Travis. Not there. She already knew he wasn’t there, because her senses weren’t tingling, the way they always did in his presence.

  Don’t panic. He’ll be here.

  “There’s Rosie,” Bethany said, nudging Georgie in the ribs. “Oh my God, she looks so cute. She should never wear any color but lavender.” She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, queen!”

  Rosie closed the passenger door of Dominic’s truck and waved. But she didn’t come join them right away. She lingered at the fender as Dominic, dressed in jeans and a fitted white shirt that showed off his heavily inked skin, sauntered around the front end of the truck . . . and whoa. Whoa. Animosity spiked in the air between husband and wife, but there was way more than just irritation there. Dominic looked Rosie top to bottom, sucking his bottom lip through his teeth. She tossed her hair a little, as if enduring the perusal, but even from a distance, Georgie could see the deepening glow of her brown skin.

  Dominic stepped into his wife’s space and tipped her chin up with a jerk of his own, as if they had an invisible string connecting their movements. He leaned in for a kiss—but their lips didn’t quite connect, and both of their sides heaved once, twice, before Rosie pivoted and left Dominic standing alone. His fist pounded the hood of the truck.

  “Jesus,” Bethany breathed. “I need to get laid after that.”

  Georgie nodded. “Same. And I’m getting laid now regularly.”

  “Braggart,” her sister scolded. “When am I getting sordid sex details, by the way?”

  “I don’t know if that should be a thing.”

  “Sorry, it’s a new club rule. All sexual exploits are to be discussed in great detail. Added it to the agenda this morning.”

  “You’re out of control.”

  Rosie reached them, the flush still painting her cheeks and neck. “Good morning.” She looked everywhere but their faces. “I need this today.”

  “You need something,” Bethany muttered.

  Georgie hip checked her sister. “Bethany.”

  “What? I’m just supposed to pretend I didn’t witness them air fucking?”

  “Ma’am,” prompted an exasperated voice to their right. “If you’re checking in, I need to see some identification.”

  Red-faced, Bethany unzipped the pocket of her running pants and handed over her driver’s license. Rosie and Georgie followed suit, trying not to die of mortification in the process. When all three of them were checked in and had been handed their official paper badges, they scooted off to the side to wait for the rest of the Just Us League members to do the same.

  “Sorry about before, Rosie,” Bethany said, using the safety pins to affix the number to the front of her shirt. “I have boundary issues.”

  “No, don’t apologize.” Rosie shook her head. “I’ve known for a long time something is off with Dominic and me. Like really off. But seeing your reactions only confirms it.” She narrowed her gaze on something over Georgie’s shoulder. Georgie turned to find Dominic watching his wife from the edge of the crowd, a cigarette tucked between his fingers. The hunger in his expression was nothing short of ferocious. “If you want to know the truth . . .”

  Bethany and Georgie waited.

  “The truth is we don’t talk. We avoid each other. He’s angry. I’m getting angrier by the day. But the attraction . . . it’s a monster. Sometimes the buildup goes on for weeks until we finally give in. We’re just about there now.” Rosie let out a shaky puff of air. “Obviously.” With a shrug, she broke eye contact with her husband. “And then the vicious cycle starts again.”

  “Hey.” Georgie squeezed Rosie’s hand. “You have a long history with Dominic and no one knows your relationship better than you. But we’re here if you want help. Or just to talk.”

  “I know. Thank you.” Rosie jogged in place, the redness beginning to fade from her skin. “Without your help, I never would have launched my Kickstarter last night. Help fund Rosie’s Empanada Factory. I already passed the thousand-dollar mark this morning.” She was practically trembling with excitement. “If you hadn’t put my empanadas on a tray at the meeting, Georgie, I probably wouldn’t have had the balls.”

  In disbelief, Georgie released a rush of breath, feeling Bethany’s hand rubbing circles onto her back. “Who needs balls when you have flaky dough filled with meat?”

  “Indeed.” Rosie’s lips spread into a smile, more optimistic than Georgie had ever seen it. “Right now, I just want to kick ass and take names.”

  Bethany threw back her head and whooped. “We got that covered!”

  By mile two, they wanted to burrow beneath the mud and let the earth reclaim their bodies as compost.

  “Oh my God,” Georgie wheezed, trotting over yet another mound. So many mounds. She hadn’t trained for mounds. “Whose idea was this?”

  Bethany made a strangled sound. “It was a collective—”

  “No. No, it was you.” Georgie splattered through a deep pit of mud. “You owe me new shoes and two hours of my life back.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Rosie panted, threading through the sisters on a spurt of momentum, then immediately slowing down. “Okay, it’s that bad. But we’re going to hit our second wind soon. I read about it.”

  They all screeched to a halt when a blond ball of light sped past them. “Hey, ladies. Sorry I’m late!” Kristin turned and jogged backward, somehow navigating the uneven terrain without looking. “Isn’t it a beautiful day? Strawberry tarts at the finish line!”

  “I’m going to kill her,” Georgie growled. “Who’s with me?”

  Both women raised their hands, then doubled over from the physical effort.

  “That’s it. That’s our motivation for finishing the race.” Georgie took Bethany’s and Rosie’s arms and tugged them along. “We’re going to murder my sister-in-law. Just keep repeating it to yourself like a mantra.”

  Somehow Bethany, Georgie, and Rosie made it through three miles of running. Ah, but then came the obstacle course. Several of the Just Us League members had caught up to them by that time. The desire to help each and every one of the women over the climbing wall and through the army crawl distracted Georgie from the pain of exertion. She’d expected a feeling of accomplishment. Satisfaction. But straddling her high school physics teacher and bodily dragging her through a mud pit while both of them laughed? It bonded them. Crossing the monkey bars, then jogging back to help Bethany prop up Rosie as she did the same? She wasn’t just part of a team, she was leading it.

  Georgie wasn’t sure what made her turn and look at the row of spectators lining the makeshift fence. Maybe it was the sparkle at the back of her neck. But when she glanced over, Travis stood there in a ball cap, his beloved face softened with a smile. And it was too much. The explosion of camaraderie. Her boyfriend’s support. The love she’d been keeping locked u
p inside herself for so long. The glue holding her together started to evaporate.

  I’m going to tell him. I have to tell him everything. It won’t stay inside.

  “You came.”

  A frown marred his forehead. “Of course I came.” Something was wrong, though. She could see it. Dark circles cradled his eyes, tension riding along his shoulders. “You’re doing great, baby girl. I’ll be waiting at the finish line.”

  Georgie nodded, relieved to have a better motivation than murdering Kristin. Taking one more worried look at Travis’s face, she turned and rejoined the women, doing her best to give them her whole focus. They deserved it. Once they’d completed all ten obstacles, they all crossed the finish line together and were immediately handed . . . beer? Bethany, Rosie, and Georgie shrugged and clinked plastic cups.

  “We look like we just crawled out of a swamp,” Rosie said, laughing.

  Bethany guzzled down half her beer. “We did.”

  “But we did it.” Georgie’s laugh turned into a sob, the earlier rise of emotions catching her around the throat again. “You guys, I’ll be back. I have to do something.”

  They gave her a mud-covered hug and sent Georgie on her way. Picking through the celebrating crowd on her own, the magnitude of what she was about to do hit. How would Travis react? Would he panic? Would it make him happy?

  Either way, she couldn’t look him in the face anymore and water down her feelings. Every time she kept the words crammed down inside, it hurt. And there was a bone-deep knowledge inside Georgie telling her Travis wouldn’t want her to hurt.

  The crowd parted and there he was. God, so absurdly good-looking in jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt rolled up to his elbows. He was looking for her, too, and when he found her, relief etched itself on every line of his strong body. Georgie didn’t care that she looked like Swamp Thing; she could only gravitate toward Travis, and when he opened his arms up, she ran and leaped into them like they were the gates of heaven. To her, they were.

  “You were amazing out there,” he said into her neck. “They got tired and you motivated them. You were the leader.”

  Her heart lifted. “I promised them they could help me kill Kristin.” Travis’s laugh was so genuine, she wondered if she’d imagined how tired he looked. “Will you kiss me even though I’m covered in mud of questionable origin?”

  His mouth found hers, gave it a teasing nuzzle. “I’ve never seen you more beautiful,” he rasped. “The way you smiled out there. The way you’re smiling now . . .”

  The decision to come clean, the lack of the burden. It had to be showing on her face. “Travis, I have to talk to you.”

  “I have to talk to you, too, Georgie.” The worry was back around his eyes, making her stomach clench, but his mouth continued to sample hers with distracting kisses. “Can we go somewhere—”

  “Travis.” Stephen’s voice broke through the personalized fog surrounding them. “How about you put my sister down?”

  Travis’s jaw bunched tight. “Not now. Please don’t do this now.”

  “You haven’t given me a choice.”

  “I can clear this up,” he said, throwing her brother a look. “Just let me talk to her first.” Travis faced her once again, pushing their foreheads together. “Ah, baby girl. I fucked up. This is going to get bad. Just promise you’ll give me a chance to explain.”

  Georgie’s breath started to come faster, scraping along her eardrums. This seemed bad. Needing to get some distance from the comforting feel of him so she could be objective, Georgie eased herself to the ground, staving off Travis when he tried to tug her back into the cradle of his body. “Explain what?” Keeping her chin up, she transferred her attention to a glowering Stephen. “What’s going on?”

  Stephen’s demeanor turned nervous—and that’s when Georgie started to become truly terrified. She’d rarely seen her brother look anything but self-assured, especially since they’d entered adulthood. “When Travis stood up for you at dinner, he was right. You deserve better. I realized I haven’t been treating you the way I should and I’m really sorry. And I just want to do right by you now. I wish that didn’t mean hurting you,” Stephen finished in a gruff voice. “I just thought . . . when he came to me about your relationship, I thought I saw a change in him.”

  Bethany bounded up beside Georgie. “What’s the serious-face summit about?”

  Concreted to the ground, Georgie ignored her sister. “Keep going.”

  Her brother gave a deep sigh. “It was all fake for him. He was dating you to help land himself the commentator job. None of it was real.”

  Relief landed on Georgie’s head like cement. “Oh God. Okay, Stephen. We have a lot to talk about. Now isn’t the time, but Travis and I both had our reasons for dating. At first.” She squeezed Travis’s hand. “It’s super complicated, but please trust me when I say this is real.”

  Stephen’s frown didn’t relent. “I heard what I heard, Georgie. He called you a kid last night. Said he’s been using you to his advantage. I’m as surprised as you are.”

  “Georgie, look at me,” Travis implored her. “I was full of shit when I said that.”

  Georgie couldn’t tear her eyes off her brother. There was more coming. Foreboding made her hands and feet feel like they’d fallen asleep, made her lips numb.

  “When Travis told me you two were dating, I told him to back off so you wouldn’t get hurt,” Stephen said, dragging a hand down his face. “I thought he’d leave you alone if I told him you’d been in love with him since you were a kid. But he didn’t. He . . . I can’t believe this, but he used it. He called you a kid with a kid’s crush.”

  The blood drained straight out of her. She couldn’t breathe.

  “What the fuck, Stephen?” Bethany muttered.

  For some reason, Travis calling her a kid landed the hardest blow. How many times had he demonstrated the opposite with his words and actions? Something about the revelation didn’t sit exactly right, but she was too bogged down in mortification to examine what it was.

  “A kid with a crush. So you knew how I felt the whole time?” Georgie whispered. “Poor little Georgie. God, you must have felt so bad for me.”

  Her mind cluttered up with images of the last couple weeks. Travis above her, his mouth open on a moan. Travis opening a takeout carton in a towel, winking at her across the kitchen. The morning on the baseball field when he picked up a bat again. Was any of that real? Her stomach pitched, sharp jabs of pain penetrating her rib cage. Finding their mark.

  “No. No, I didn’t feel bad for you. I knew . . .” Travis rocked back on his heels, a hand plowing into his hair. “The kind of love Stephen told me about wasn’t real. It was just . . .”

  “What?”

  “A young girl’s crush,” he answered quietly, his jaw flexing. “Hero worship.”

  The oxygen vacated her lungs. “You made that judgment without even asking me, didn’t you?” A punch of misery hit her in the stomach. “Do you have any idea how stupid I feel? Knowing you were aware of how I felt the whole time? Silly clown with her silly, meaningless crush. I guess you never took me seriously, either. Not me and not our friendship,” she managed, moisture gathering in her eyes. “The love didn’t pass, Travis. It just became so much more. I still loved the guy who hit the home runs and showed off for the crowd. I also loved the imperfect man.”

  “Don’t say ‘loved.’ Say ‘love.’” Travis made a rough sound. “And Jesus, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He tried to come toward her, but Stephen grabbed his arm, holding him off. “Let go of me. My girlfriend is crying.”

  “She’s not your girlfriend.”

  Georgie couldn’t even be sure who said those words. Her head spun too fast to keep up. She only knew it was true. He’d thought of her as a stupid kid, didn’t take her seriously, just like everyone else. He was aware of her feelings and sloughed them off like they weren’t real. They were. So real that her heart was capsizing under the rupturing pressure.

&nb
sp; “Georgie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Dominic joined Stephen to pull a struggling Travis farther away. It was a losing battle until security joined them, herding a belligerent Travis toward the parking lot.

  “Get off of me. Fuck. Just let me talk to her.”

  Despite all the doubt paralyzing Georgie, her heart shouted at her to run to Travis, making her cry all the harder. But in the end, she let her sister and friends close ranks around her, shielding her from the crowd as she absorbed reality. Shielding her from the man who’d broken her heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Travis lay on the couch in the darkness facing the door. Staring at the hinges and knob, willing them to move. But they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t move.

  He’d lost the one person who busted down his door.

  As he’d done time and time again over the last several days, he turned onto his stomach and searched for her scent in the pillow he’d brought from his bed. It, too, was gone. He’d sucked it all up on day one. Absorbed it into his bloodstream, along with countless swigs of whiskey and no food.

  His first night on the air was in a matter of days, yet the muddy clothes he’d worn to the Tough Mudder were stuck to his unwashed skin, a bristling beard overtaking his cheeks. Getting up to take a shower or make himself a sandwich sounded more difficult than training to be a fucking astronaut. Nothing could get him off the couch when he ached head to toe. Inside and out.

  He kept his face buried in the softness anyway, wondering if he could die from carbon dioxide poisoning this way. Worth a shot.

  Out of nowhere, the memory of Georgie crying slammed into his consciousness again and he let loose a bellow into the pillow, forcing himself to remember every nuance as penance. How she’d shrunk into herself, going from confident to unsure right in front of his eyes. How she’d trembled and cupped her elbows. Almost immediately, the mental torture became too much, so his hand dropped to the floor, searching for a bottle of whiskey with something left inside of it.

  “Come on.” He barely recognized the hollow voice emerging from his own mouth. “Come on.”