Love Under Quarantine_Simple

by Scott, Kylie

  “Damn. That was Dior.”

  “Bummer,” he mutters.

  No. Okay. I’m having a little too much fun with my characters now. The last two lines can get deleted.

  “The last thing I remember is walking back from Trader Joe’s. I got their last roll of toilet paper!”

  “I’m so sorry the bastard got away.” His expression is tortured—brow furrowed, and mouth a fine line. Is it angst or anger? The man is a complex mess of emotions that I cannot wait to untangle. Much like his beautiful mussed hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time.”

  “You tried.” I give him a smile. “That’s all any of us can do in times such as these. My name’s Katie.”

  “Eamon,” he says.

  “I know. I…I heard you on the phone one day.”

  His smile is wicked and knowing. More of a smirk, in truth. As if he’s aware of exactly how I’ve been spying on him. All the hours I’ve spent holding a glass to the wall, straining to hear him speak. And that expression on his handsome face, the heated knowledge in his eyes… I feel it all the way to my quivering loins.

  With regards to the last couple of words, Zahra will make me change it to pussy or center or something more eloquent. Still, I thoroughly enjoy strategically placing both the words loins (especially when they’re quivering) and moist throughout my work. It irritates the absolute crap out of my editor and never fails to amuse me. And when you work alone, occasionally amusing yourself is important. Bosom also warrants a small but passionate tirade from her. I’ll have to remember to include it sometime soon.

  Back to the words.

  My nipples instantly harden to peaks sharp enough to cut diamonds. Eamon knows I’ve been a bad, bad girl. And what’s more, he likes it.

  “Oh, you two crazy kids. Get a room already.” I toss a Starburst into my mouth. Which is when my cell rings for the second time today. Give me strength. Since when did people feel the need to talk when they can text? Another sign that the world is spiraling out of control. Then I see the name flash up on screen. Since we just spoke a short while ago, this cannot be good.

  “Mom? Are you okay?”

  * * *

  EVAN

  “Polly, tell me something good.” I huff through the pain. I’d set the treadmill at an incline and have already been going for half an hour. With this rain, knowing I’m not going to be seeing Sadie for a balcony rendezvous, I’m a bit edgier than normal.

  “Well hello to you too, Mr. Sparks. I can hear you working your body to the maximum. That bodes well since I do in fact have great news.”

  I lower the speed to a fast-paced walk. My heart is pounding, but that could be adrenalin or the surge of fear as I anticipate whatever my publicist has to say.

  “Lay it on me.”

  “Received the report direct from the team doctor.”

  “And?” Not that it’s going to show much of anything—because I haven’t done anything wrong. I may have smoked a little cannabis from time to time, but that shit’s legal in the state of California. And only socially after the season ended. It’s not like I’m a closet pothead. I’d never consider doing anything regularly that could affect me long term or prevent me from being in top shape come game time.

  “Cleared of all steroids. No sign whatsoever that you’d been doping.”

  “Thank you, God!” I smile. “And the other drugs?”

  “That’s where things get a little tricky.”

  “How so?” I hit the stop button and jump to the side until the treadmill stops. I wipe my face with the towel I’ve got hanging over the unit and focus on every nuance of her voice.

  She hums as though she’s reading or doing something. “According to the report, it says here you had high levels of Rohypnol in your system.”

  “The date rape drug?” I blurt, shock prevalent in my tone. “I don’t recall being given anything.”

  “Didn’t you say the last thing you remember was going into a bedroom with a woman who handed you a glass of whiskey? In a dark liquid you may not have noticed any visible change. Especially if you were already drunk. All she had to do was slip the pill in and then offer it to you.”

  “No shit?”

  “Yep.” She’s quiet for a minute. “Says here you tested negative for everything else.”

  “Release it. Along with a statement that I was drugged.”

  “Really? You want to go with the entire report?”

  “Hell, yes! I want my name and reputation cleared, Polly.”

  “Doesn’t change what the coach found in your locker. If you weren’t taking it, one could question whether or not you were selling it or helping your team’s advantage by giving it to players that are less talented than you.” Her words are compassionate and yet truthful all the same. Unwelcome as all hell, but I’d rather know exactly what I’m up against.

  I run my fingers through my sodden hair. “For now, it will clear me of the doping allegations. The press doesn’t know about the locker.”

  “So far. Your team knows. All one of them has to do is leak it and we’re back to square one.”

  “Fuck!” I grip the roots of my hair. “It’s like I can’t catch a fucking break!”

  “I know, I know. It’s definitely a start. I’m sorry you’re dealing with this, Evan.”

  “Someone is setting me up.”

  “Do you remember anything about the woman you were partying with?”

  Closing my eyes, I think back to that night.

  Levi and I were shooting the shit in the backyard. We were at a friend of a friend’s birthday bash in a swank old school style home in Berkeley. People were smoking a heavy amount of pot and others were dancing or playing pool. There was a game of poker happening in the dining room and Levi and I were enjoying stogies and far too much whiskey.

  Out of nowhere, Coach appeared with some of the cheerleaders and a tall drink of water I’d not seen before.

  “Hey fellas, brought you guys a little something sweet.” He grinned wildly around his horde of women. None of whom were his wife. The guy was a total bastard. Great coach. Knows exactly how to win games and make the right plays. Though he is a total douche bag womanizer when it comes to the opposite sex.

  “Aw, Coach, you shouldn’t have,” I said, rather serious. I was enjoying my time with the guys.

  Levi on the other hand lifted his arms out wide in a T and said, “You definitely should have. Come on over here, beautiful ladies!”

  Two of them left the coach’s harem and cuddled up to me and Levi.

  “Hi, I’m Mindy,” the sexy blonde murmured, her hands already sliding up my chest.

  With the amount of alcohol in my system, I was thinking only with my dick, so I looped an arm around her and palmed her ass. She snuggled closer.

  Things got a little wild after that. Coach’s wife showed up and Levi and I headed her off before she could locate the coach who I was pretty sure was in the guest house banging a cheerleader or two.

  We chatted his wife up, and then at some point, Mindy encouraged me to follow her. And I did. She grabbed a glass from one of her friends and we went to one of the empty bedrooms. There she pushed me onto the bed, ripped off her shirt, and straddled me. She sipped from the drink and then handed it to me. I drank heavily from it while she pushed down the lace of her bra cup and played with her tits.

  “Keep drinking,” she said in a sexy timber I couldn’t do anything but follow.

  So, I drank. And watched her play with herself until things got blurry and I got too tired to keep my eyes open.

  That was all she wrote. I don’t remember anything after that. “Shit. It was Mindy that drugged me. But she drank from the cup too! At least it looked like it did.”

  “Who’s Mindy?”

  I start to pace the workout room. “I don’t fucking know. Coach brought her to the party with two other cheerleaders. I’d never seen her before.”

  “Sounds like you have a call to make to the coach and those cheerleaders.
See if we can pin down who this girl is.”

  “Got it. In the meantime, are you going to release a statement along with the results?”

  “Absolutely. Just keep in mind, it’s not a cure-all. It definitely clears you of taking the drugs and establishes that you were drugged. Outside of that, we’ll just have to see how this rolls out.”

  I grind my teeth. “Thanks, Polly. I know you’re working hard to clear my name.”

  “It’s my job. No thanks needed. How are you holding up?”

  I glance out the window at the dark sky and rain clouds coating the city in a dreary melancholy. “Fine. I’m safe. Got groceries yesterday. It was bad.”

  “Yeah. New York is discussing shutting down. Confirmed cases are running rampant. I’m already working from home and have stocked up on what I can fit in my postage stamp-sized apartment.”

  I smile, thinking that she is right. I’ve been to her place. The entire apartment could fit into my living room in Oakland. Even this apartment is three times the size of hers.

  “Be careful, Polly.”

  “You too. I’ll be in touch soon and e-mail you the link when the press release goes out across the wire.”

  “Thank you, Polly. For having my back and believing in me.”

  “Again, it’s my job and I love doing it. We’ll talk soon. Be safe.”

  “Will do.”

  She hangs up and I immediately pull up Coach’s number.

  “Sparks, I’ve seen the report, son. It’s good news.”

  I make my way into the living room and sit on the couch. “Yeah, I’m relieved.”

  “Unfortunately, there’s still the matter of the contraband found in your locker. What was it doing there?”

  “Coach, I have no idea! I swear on my love of the game, I did not buy those steroids.”

  The coach sighs heavily. “That doesn’t solve the problem. It was in your locker. Now we have to test the entire team. The guys are pissed.”

  Fuck. If they didn’t already hate me for believing I was juicing, now they’re going to hate me for putting them through unnecessary testing.

  “I am too! This is my whole fucking life, Coach. I’ve worked my ass off to be here and someone’s trying to take it away.”

  “Just tell the truth. You’re selling it,” he states flatly.

  “Are you kidding me! NO! I said I’m not dealing, and I have no idea who put that there. I’m being set up and I’m going to find out by who!”

  Coach pauses and another sigh can be heard. “Not sure what to say. We have rules.”

  “I’m going to clear my name! Speaking of, do you remember the girls you brought to the party that night?”

  “Son, they’re cheerleaders on our team. Of course, I remember them. Tiffany and Jessica. That Tiffany is a good girl, but naughty as fuck. One of my favorites,” he says smarmily which has me trying to hold off the bile rising in my throat. Dirty fucker.

  “Not Tiff and Jess. Mindy, the other one.”

  “Hmm, Mindy. Can’t recall. She just appeared at my side at some point and then left me to go hang with you.”

  “So, you don’t know where she came from?”

  “Nah. I entered the party with Jessica and Tiffany arm-in-arm. You know how I like a twofer when I play.”

  I have to swallow and breathe through my nose hearing the way he talks about women I consider my friends. Though I’ve also fucked Tiffany—hell, half the team probably has. She likes to party. To each his own, I say, but still the way the coach views women is just gross.

  If I had bigger balls and wasn’t afraid to be kicked off the team, I might say something. Except these women are of age. They make their own choices. No one is forcing them to do anything. I actually checked in with Jess and Tiff about it in the past. They enjoy having a pool of men to party with and have wine and dine them. They feel safe with the team. Something about living it up in their youth too. Far be it for me to rain on their parade if it’s what they want to do. Honestly, it’s no different than how most of the guys on the team are.

  “Mindy is the one that doped me with the Rohypnol, Coach. I’ve got to find her and find out who put her up to it.”

  “Shit. Good luck, son.”

  “Yeah, sounds like I’m gonna need it. What happens now team-wise?”

  “We test every player. If any one of them has juiced, they’re off the team. Breach of their contract. Since we’re still investigating, even your contract is uncertain.”

  Fuck me. Just as I suspected. Still, needing to hold onto my last hope, I make the suggestion. “Maybe whoever planted the dope is trying to frame me? It’s hard to believe, though. These guys are like brothers to me.”

  “You never really know a person, son.”

  And that right there is the problem. People do crazy shit for all kinds of reasons.

  “Well, I hope you’re wrong. Polly is sending out a press release with the full medical report. That should take the heat off me in the press.”

  “It’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Keep your chin up. Only time will tell.”

  “Thanks, Coach. Stay safe and keep me posted on what you find.”

  “Will do.”

  My mood plummets as I ease back against the couch and cover my eyes. This time next year I could be unemployed and unhireable. Though so far, I’m not feeling sick so I should be counting my blessings.

  Entering the kitchen, I pull down the huge bottle of whiskey and drink straight from the bottle. I walk over to the stereo system and put on Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Suck My Kiss.”

  Fuckin’ A.

  It’s going to be one of those days.

  Booze. Music. Rain.

  CHAPTER 7

  QUARANTINE: DAY 7

  EVAN

  IT’S STILL RAINING. MEANS NO Sadie. I grimace as I plop three ibuprofens in my mouth and suck them back with a full glass of water. Last night’s pity party for one sure did a number on my head and heart today.

  Hitting the fridge, I pull out strawberries, spinach, yogurt, and an apple. I’ve left my giant container of protein powder on the counter for easy access. I pull a banana off the caddy and toss the entire thing into the blender. One after another I add the ingredients to make my morning smoothie. Except today, I double the amount, adding two scoops of protein powder and more strawberries than I normally would.

  I know she likes her sweets.

  The thought of Sadie makes me smile. I’m starved for any form of interaction with her. Because of the rain I can’t wait for her on the balcony. Did that once. Only thing I got out of it was wet.

  It took everything in me not to reach out to her yesterday, but I don’t want to seem pathetic. Today all bets are off. I’m going to call her. Right after I leave my sweet healthy treat at her doorstep.

  Good thing I slept in today. She doesn’t seem to be the type to get up early. And really, no one should call anyone before ten. That’s just rude.

  Once I’ve added the ice and mixed the entire thing together, I pour two huge glasses. Taking a sample, I note it’s definitely sweeter than I normally enjoy, but it still has a green hue from all the spinach. Guess it will have to do.

  I slip my sneakers on my bare feet, and head out my door and over to hers. After I set the drink down, I return to Jake’s apartment and dial the number she gave me the other day.

  Anticipation of hearing her voice sends a tingle to my stomach I haven’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever.

  “’Lo,” she mumbles.

  “Good morning, sunshine! Are you awake?”

  “Begrudgingly, yes.” Her tone is off and lacks the normal chipperness I’ve come to associate with talking to her.

  “I left a present by your door.”

  “Is it donuts?” Her voice rises a little.

  I chuckle and grab my drink from the counter. “Fried bread covered in sugar? Uh, no. There isn’t anything nutritious about a donut.”

  “
Then I’m not leaving my safe place to get whatever it is you left.”

  “Your safe place?”

  “Mmm hmm. I’ve wrapped myself in my favorite blankets, surrounded myself in pillows, and have a bag of peanut M&M’s to live off. I’m good right here. Here no one can harm me.”

  “Harm you. What’s wrong?” Anxiety twists inside my gut.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. If I talk about it, it makes it real.” Her voice catches and my stomach drops.

  “First of all, Sadie, go get the damn drink I left at your door.”

  “Is it coffee? If it is, this may be true love.” Her voice is teasing now but it doesn’t carry her normal spirited vibe.

  Fuck, why didn’t I think to add a cup of coffee? I enter the kitchen and put one of the pods into the machine and get the thing started.

  “You’ll have coffee in about sixty seconds.” I laugh but hear crickets on the other line. “Sadie, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong. Are you feeling sick?”

  “No!” She sobs. “My dad is. H-h-he has flu-like symptoms and they’re not testing him for COVID-19.” She chokes on her words.

  “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” I grab the now ready cup of coffee, take it outside, and set it next to the smoothie that’s rapidly melting. “There’s a cup of Joe at your door. Come out of your cocoon and get it, yeah? Then we’ll talk.”

  She sniffs and makes a snotty sound. “O-o-okay. Only because I need the caffeine.”

  “That’s good. Get your coffee.”

  I wait while I hear her shuffling around, and then I hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening and closing.

  “You made me a green drink? I thought you cared?”

  “It’s a smoothie. I want you to drink it. It has tons of vitamins and protein. It’s going to give you an awesome boost.”

  “I don’t want a boost!” she snaps childishly. “I want my daddy to be okay!”

  “Breathe, Sadie. Just breathe. Sit on your couch and tell me what happened.” I follow my own advice and hold the phone to my ear, not wanting to miss a second of what she has to say as I get comfortable on the couch.