by Lindsay Becs
Just then my phone rings. Pulling it out, I see Troy’s face light up the screen. With a yell, I throw it. But it quickly starts to ring again and again. Standing up, I go in search of it, and when I find it, I see texts there too.
Troy: Ip it’s not what it looks like. I swear to you I wouldn’t do that to you. To us.
Troy: Please answer.
Troy: I love you.
Troy: I’m on my way home. I caught an earlier flight.
The phone starts to ring again in my hand, and it makes me jump. I hit ignore and turn it off, tossing it in a drawer. I strip out of my clothes and pull on one of his T-shirts, climbing into bed. Because regardless of what’s happening, smelling him and feeling his shirt on me comforts me. And I hate myself a little for feeling that way.
Hugging a pillow to my body, I curl into it and cry. I’m not sure how long it’s been when I feel someone crawl into bed with me.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Bianca tells me as she holds me, letting me cry.
“Why does this keep happening to me, B?”
“Because guys are assholes,” she says. “But I definitely thought Troy was different.”
“Me too.”
After a little bit, she gets up and makes some tea for me. I sip it as I tell her about his texts. She urges me to at least hear him out if I really do love him but to do what I feel is right. That’s the problem; I don’t know what is right or the truth or what I want.
That’s a lie; I do know what I want. I want things to go back to how they were when I woke up this morning feeling happy and in love with a man I thought felt the same about me. I guess I was wrong.
“Ip? Are you here?” I hear Troy yell from the door. It’s been a few hours since Bianca got here, and we’ve been watching Ben Stiller movies since.
Bianca looks at me in question of whether to stay or leave. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you later,” I tell her. “Thanks for coming over.”
Taking my hand, she gives it a squeeze. “You call me no matter what.”
I nod and hug her just as Troy comes into view of the bedroom. “Hi,” he says simply, looking uneasy.
Bianca gives me one last sad smile as she walks past him, and when I hear the front door close behind her, I look at him for the first time since he got here.
“Why?” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth as a fresh set of tears fall.
“I didn’t…” he starts, walking to the bed and sitting next to me. “I didn’t do anything.”
“It looked like you were holding another woman in a bar and kissing her on the street,” I say, looking down at my hands as they pick at fuzzies on the bedspread.
“I know that’s what it looked like, but that isn’t what happened.”
I look up at him then. “Then what happened?”
“Tiffany,” he starts, and I tense at the use of this woman’s name that I could have done without, “is my ex. We dated for three years. She chased the fame and loved the status more than me. She also loves alcohol. A lot. She’s been to rehab a couple times through the years, but it never seems to get through to her. I didn’t invite her out with me. She showed up, already drunk, and tried to hook up with me.”
“She’s an alcoholic?” I ask.
He nods solemnly and goes on. “She has been since high school. I’ve cleaned her up, sobered her up, and taken care of her so many times.” He sounds tired just saying the words. “As soon as I saw her state, I knew what she was after. I called a car for her and helped her out. She kissed me, but I did not reciprocate. I pushed her off and into the car waiting to take her home. I swear, I did not cheat on you, Juniper. I love you.”
My eyes fill with tears waiting to fall. “I love you too.”
“Are we okay? You believe me, right?” he asks nervously. “I can call my buddy Dean; he was there the whole time and he call tell you too. Or my mom can tell you how Tiff is—"
“I believe you,” I cut him off.
He visibly relaxes, and his head falls to my lap. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for putting you in this position of having to deal with this. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“I know.”
He sits up and looks at me a minute. “If you believe me, why do you still seem so far away?”
I lick at the corner of my mouth and drop my eyes. “Because I think I need some time to think about things.”
“What? Ip, no. Please don’t do this,” he pleads.
Sniffing, I wipe my hands down my face. “I just need to get away for a little bit. Sort my own shit out.”
“Please don’t leave me,” he begs.
“Don’t make this any harder than it is, Troy. Please?”
Nodding, he stands and steps away from the bed, and I take the opportunity to get up. Grabbing my suitcase, I begin throwing clothes inside. When I turn to go to the bathroom, I walk into him. He pulls me against his chest in a hug that has his whole body around mine, holding me close. I sink into it at first, and then I push back.
“I can’t do this, Troy. Please give me the space and time I need.” He places the softest kiss on my lips and then walks away. Hearing the front door open and close, I break again.
16
Some people should use a glue stick instead of chapstick.
TROY
Walking away from Juniper to give her the space she asked for was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Every fiber of my body was shouting to hold her and never let go. But I knew I had to give her what she was asking for if I wanted to have any chance of us working through this.
Pulling my hat on, I climb into my SUV and go straight to the gym. There isn’t much else I can do right now anyway; might as well work out my frustrations.
I ignore the constant buzz of my cell the whole afternoon. I know none of the calls and texts are from the one person I want it to be. At some point I’ll have to talk to someone, but that time isn’t now.
Thankful that there are only a couple of my teammates in the gym when I get there, I change and jump right in. I’m in need of working through a lot of emotions, and most of them aren’t positive ones at the moment.
I’ve been here for an hour when another teammate, Jude Timmons, walks in. He’s someone I keep my distance from usually. He’s not a bad guy, but the dude never knows when to shut up. I doubt today will be any different.
“Hitting it hard over there, Tipton,” he acknowledges as he sets up not far from where I am. I ignore him, but he doesn’t get the hint. “Thought you’d be all worked out since you got busy with that hottie in the pictures. Then you have your other mouthy girl here. Damn, dude, did you get your dick wet by two girls in the same day? You double-dipping? That’s talent,” he laughs.
My patience snaps and I’m on him, shoving him off the machine where he’s perched. Gripping his shirt in my fist, I thrust his body into the wall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t ever talk about my girl—singular—like that again,” I grit out through clenched teeth.
His hands go at his sides up in surrender. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, man. My bad for getting it wrong.”
I shove him again into the wall, for no other reason than it feels good, before letting him go and walking out. This day went to shit before it even began.
Not even bothering to shower, I gather my things and leave to head back home. Opening the door, I’m expecting to see Brutus, but he isn’t here. She took him with her. I drop my chin to my chest in defeat.
Stepping into the shower, I let the hot spray pound on my tense muscles, staying in there until my skin is pruned. I dry off and pull on a pair of shorts before grabbing my cell. Scrolling through all the missed calls and texts, ignoring all the shit ones.
I press on my agent’s number. Besides Juniper, he’s the next one who deserves the truth.
“Damien Montenegro,” he answers.
“Hey, it’s Troy.”
“Oh, you decide to call me now that I’m about to head ho
me for the night. I love when you think of others besides yourself.”
Letting out a sigh, I apologize and go on to tell him about what happened with Tiffany. He assures me that it’ll blow over fast.
“How’s Juniper doing with all of this?” he asks, and it surprises me at first that he’d be concerned for her since she isn’t his client.
“She was upset. Said she needed time away to think things through.”
“You guys still have three episodes of I Can Gym Too! to do. You going to be able to do that regardless of what happens between you?” There it is. The business man.
“Yeah, we’ll get it done. We still have time.”
“This is the exact thing I warned you about when you came to me with this show idea with your girlfriend.”
“I said we’re fine,” I grit out angerly.
“If you say so. Some people just aren’t meant for the limelight, Troy. She might do okay with her little show where no one actually sees her. But this—being with you—is a different story.”
“Yeah,” I agree roughly.
“I hope you two can work things out. I do like her.”
“Me too.”
We hang up, and I feel even worse than I did before. Damien might not always be soft in how he delivers things, but he’s not wrong either. Juniper and I talked about how our different jobs would affect our fans and careers, but we never really talked about the celebrity and media attention beyond that.
Next, I send a text to Dante in response to the ones he sent me throughout the day to check in on me.
Dante: You doing alright, bro?
Me: Not really.
Dante: How’s our girl doing?
Me: Our girl?
Dante: Your girl.
Me: She left.
Dante: Shit.
Dante: Like breakup?
Me: More like a break.
Me: I hope.
Me: Said she needed time and space.
Dante: Damn.
Dante: Want Laura to try to talk to her?
Me: Not right now. Maybe if she comes back to me.
Dante: When. Not if. She’ll come back.
Me: Call me a pussy but I already miss her so much.
Dante: You’re not a pussy. You’re just whipped like the rest of us fools.
Dante: These women have magical powers, I swear.
Me: Truth
Dante: I’m here if you need a friend for anything.
Me: Thanks
Leaning back on my couch, I scrub my hands up and down my face in frustration. Taking a chance, I turn my phone back on and go to Juniper’s name. Pulling up our string of text messages, I see all the unanswered ones I sent her before I got home and shake my head. The probability of her answering me now isn’t great, but I have to tell her how I feel.
Taking a chance, I press the call button. Hearing her voice telling me to leave a message hits me harder than it should. I miss her so damn much.
I leave a message, saying too much and not enough all at once. Fighting back my emotions the entire time, I word vomit into her voicemail before ending the call and tossing my phone aside.
I trudge to bed, flopping down with a groan. Climbing up to grab her pillow, I inhale, taking the smell of her with me, willing it to help me sleep. But I don’t. Sleep evades me the whole night as I think about everything, and all of it Juniper.
It’s been a week since she left, and I feel like a zombie. I go through the motions of practice and training, gearing up for our next game, but I feel none of it. I’m not sleeping well, and that doesn’t help either.
We have a game tomorrow, and I’m nervous about it. I’m not sure how it’ll go, but I know I need to get my head in the game.
“Tipton!” Coach calls to me. “Clean up and come meet me in my office.”
I do as he tells me and knock on his door after I’ve showered and dressed. “Coach?”
“Come in, have a seat.” I sit and wait for him to tell me what I already know is coming. “Troy, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean, Coach?” I try not to give way to what I’m feeling.
“Don’t bullshit me. I read the paper. I’ve seen the headlines. You’re off your game. What’s going on?” he asks again.
I recount what’s happened over the last week or so, and he listens more patiently than I thought he would. It’s like I’m telling him about the latest romance movie with how lovesick and gushy I feel.
“Are you going to be able to focus tomorrow for the game?”
“Yes, sir.”
He stares at me a minute. “I need that to be true. I don’t want to see you or anyone else get hurt because you can’t keep your mind on the game.”
“I understand, Coach. I promise you I’ll be good for the game.”
“We can’t afford to lose this one; otherwise I’d sit you out.” This shocks me that he’d be so blunt about me being the linchpin to winning the game. “Do what you need to do, but get your focus where it needs to be tomorrow. I don’t care if you need to call her, go fuck someone else, or get drunk tonight. But you’re head better be here when we step onto that field.”
“Yes, Coach,” I say, grinding my teeth, angry at what he suggested.
He excuses me, and I walk back to the locker room to get my bag and head home. I’m sure not going to fuck someone else, but I could use a drink. I pour a healthy portion of Scotch into a glass and take a sip, needing the burn to help snap me out of the funk I’m in.
Three glasses later, I’m feeling pretty good and make the bright decision to call Juniper.
17
Some people call me crazy. I prefer happy with a twist.
JUNIPER
Walking away from Troy was so hard. I knew I needed to give myself time to think about my sudden insecurities, my career, our future together, but that didn’t mean my heart wasn’t screaming at me to stay.
I had walked the ten blocks to Forever Grey pulling my suitcase behind me as tears rolled down my face. I was a mess. Suzette took one look at me and handed me the keys to the company SUV. We loaded a few dogs in the back to justify me driving out to my mom’s farm. Within a couple hours, I was lying with my head in my mom’s lap while she ran her fingers through my hair.
“You ready to tell me yet why you’re here crying?” my mom asks, giving me more time than I thought she would before demanding answers from me.
“I got to work this morning and had an email with pictures of Troy with another girl. He said it wasn’t how it looked. That it was his ex and she’d been drunk and he pushed her away when she kissed him. She kissed him! Her lips were on his, and I can’t get that image out of my head,” I cry.
“Do you believe him?” Mom asks after a couple minutes. I nod my head against her leg, wiping my runny nose with the back of my hand. “Do you trust him?”
“Yes,” I answer through a stuttered inhale. “But I thought he cheated on me.”
“But you don’t now?”
I shake my head. “No, but I think I screwed up.”
“Then what are you doing here crying in my lap?”
I sit up and look at her, confused by her question. She’s my mom; she’s supposed to be on my side and cuddle me and tell me everything is going to be fine.
“Did you listen to anything I said?” I ask her, exasperated.
“I did. All while you soaked through my pants with your tears. But what I heard was that he took care of an old friend and someone sold him out to the press to gain a buck. He came right home to you. He apologized and told you what really happened. You say you trust him and believe him, so I don’t get why you’re so upset, Juniper.”
“I’m upset because…because…because I am,” I huff, crossing my arms across my chest and pouting.
My mom laughs at me, loud and obnoxious, pats my leg and then walks to the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” I ask, frustrated with her response.
“I’m going to start dinner. L
illy and Rose will both be here. Maybe you’ll get more sympathy from them.”
My mouth hangs open as she leaves me with still-wet cheeks and puffy eyes. My phone pings letting me know I have a voicemail, and when I see it’s from Troy, I don’t know whether I want to listen or not. Curiosity wins as I put my cell to my ear, making me cry for the hundredth time today.
“Hey, Ip, I know you said you needed time and space, and I’ll give you both for as long as you need, but I have to get this off my chest.” He pauses, letting out a deep sigh. “I love you, Juniper. More than I thought I could possibly love another person. You said you believe me that I didn’t do anything, but I can’t help but question that when you aren’t here with me right now. I’m sorry you got hurt, but the rumors and lies spread before I could even talk to you. I would never do anything to purposefully hurt you. I hope you know that. I never gave a thought to us being at the center of a gossip magazine headline, but here we are. It happened.” His voice grows harsher as he keeps going. “You know I hate all that shit and try to stay out of it as much as possible until I’m doing an actual article. Unfortunately, it’s part of what happens with this life sometimes. I hope it’s something we can work through and come out stronger because of it, but I also realize it’s not for everyone. I won’t be mad if that’s the case,” he says softer now, sounding defeated. “I only want what’s best for you and what makes you happy. And if I’m not it, that’s okay. It’ll suck, but it’s okay.” His voice cracks, and my heart does too. “But know this: there will never be another person I feel as strongly for as I do you. You are the perfect opposite to me, and yet we fit so well together. I love you, baby. I love you so damn much it hurts. Just thinking about getting into our bed without you there feels like torture. I’ll give you your space now. I’ll wait for you to come back to me. Hoping that you do soon.” He sounds on the verge of tears, pausing, then I hear him sniff. “Night, Ip.”
I listen to it over and over and let everything he said really sink in, hearing the emotion in his voice, every crack, sigh and sniff breaking my heart just a little bit more.