Play to Win

by Kelly Jamieson

  “Dude, it’s okay to cry.”

  “Jesus!” I glare at him. Then I sag, my head dropping. “I’m fucked.”

  “How so, bro?”

  I can tell he’s keeping his tone deliberately casual, and I’m grateful, because he’s right…I might cry.

  “You’re right,” I mumble to the table. “I love her. I want her back.”

  “Say what?”

  “You heard me.”

  He chuckles. “I did.” He drinks his beer. “So tell her that.”

  “She wants a divorce.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t believe that.”

  I lift my head and peer at him through burning eyes. “Why not?”

  He lifts one shoulder. “Just the things she said when we were talking. The way she talks about you. She’s crazy about you.”

  “She hates me.”

  “You hurt her feelings, man.”

  I bury my face in my hands. “I did. She makes me lose my mind. I do crazy things around her. Things that aren’t like me.”

  “Being horny makes you impulsive. That’s why.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I lift my head to frown at him.

  He looks affronted. “No, it’s not. The Japanese even have a word for it—Kenjataimu.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  “I’m serious. That’s why you’re supposed to jerk off before making important decisions.”

  “I’ve gone my whole life without knowing this.”

  He chuckles. “Come on, every guy knows that rubbing one out is good stress relief.”

  “True.” But no…it’s not just sex. “She makes me…I don’t know. She makes me want more. She makes me want to make her happy…even if it means jumping into a pool with my clothes on.”

  “What?” His forehead creases.

  “Never mind.”

  “Okay, what are you going to do now? About Lacey?”

  I probably don’t deserve her. All my life, I’ve felt like I don’t deserve the things I want. But I can’t think like that. She’s too important. I can’t let her go that easily, without at least trying. I square my shoulders. “I need a plan.”

  “Of course you do.” He lifts his beer. “I expect nothing less from you. How can I help?”

  Chapter 26

  Lacey

  I’m stretched out on my bed in the apartment, staring at my penguin. Just looking at it makes me want to cry, but I keep doing it. Basically, I’m torturing myself.

  Théo gave me a replacement penguin. That makes my heart hurt.

  He came to see Chris. Gave him a stern talking-to. Chris was actually impressed with Théo, although he admitted to being annoyed at first.

  He left me heart-shaped rocks he found on the beach because he knows I like them.

  I turn my face into the pillow, hot tears sliding down my cheeks again. I’m a mess.

  I miss him so much.

  I also miss his crazy, messed-up family and my new friends.

  Chris works eight to four at the factory, but often works overtime because he’s trying to make as much money as he can. Plus, working more means less time for the temptation of gambling. He’s also started taking anti-depressants. He went to see a doctor who thinks he has depression and that gambling was his way of self-medicating. It’s only been a couple of weeks and apparently it takes a while for the medication to work, but I hope that helps. I’m proud of what he’s done so far. He even paid the rent on the apartment for this month.

  We had a long talk when I got back, both of us ending up crying. My disappearance, leaving him on his own to deal with things, was enough of a kick in the butt to scare him. He actually thanked me for it, and broke down over how badly he felt about how he’d treated me. I love him and I want to believe him, and so far he seems to be back on the right track with his life, but I’d be lying if I said I was completely confident about it. But now I know what I have to do if he relapses…I have to let him deal with it.

  I’ve been hanging out mostly alone in the apartment. I got a job at Mary Jane’s but I’ve only worked one shift so far, mostly learning about the different types of marijuana on the menu. Tonight I brought home some Blueberry Muffin to try. I roll off my bed and find the stash to light up a doob. It tastes like—duh—blueberry muffins, and is supposed to help with anxiety, chronic pain, and nausea.

  I’ve never smoked marijuana even though I worked as a budtender. I just pretended I knew what I was talking about. But I’m miserable and this might be better than drinking a whole bottle of wine. Again.

  I swipe another tear away, tired of feeling sorry for myself.

  Soon I am pleasantly mellow, with no more tears. I spy my knitting bag and reach for it. I’ve also been knitting like crazy. I now have about a dozen cute knitted penises. Is that the right plural? Hmm. Penii? I don’t think so. I giggle as I lay out all the cute pink sculptures, complete with testicles, on my bed. Now I’m branching out into something more functional—willie warmers.

  I relax back into the pillows of my bed, my fingers moving with the needles and wool. This is really coming along.

  A loud knock on the door doesn’t even startle me, I’m so serene. Maybe Chris forgot his key? I slide off the bed again, carrying my knitting, to open the door for him.

  It’s not Chris.

  It’s Théo.

  “Wow. That Blueberry Muffin is hallucinogenic.”

  His eyebrows snap together. “What?”

  I reach out a hand and touch his chest. It’s warm and solid. “Are you really here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You feel good.” I caress his pecs.

  “Uh. Thanks.” He gives me a squinty look. “Are you drunk?”

  “No!”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I let him in and close the door. “You’re just in time. I’m knitting a willie warmer, and you can try it on.”

  “What the…” He sniffs the air. “Are you high?”

  “Just a little.” I smile. I hold up my knitting. “See? Isn’t it cute?”

  “Baked as a fuckin’ cake,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Now what the hell do I do?”

  I eye him. “I don’t know.”

  He sighs.

  “This one looks like a rooster, see? But I can also make an elephant.”

  “What is that?”

  “I told you. A willie warmer. Peter heater.” I pause. “Cock sock?”

  “Jesus.”

  “I don’t think this is big enough for you, though.”

  He rubs his mouth. “This isn’t going how I planned. But I should have known that, when it comes to you.”

  “You always have a plan, don’t you?” I motion to the couch. “Have a seat. Would you like a drink? I’d offer you a toke but I only had one.”

  “Thank Christ for that. I’m good.” He walks over to the couch and sits, setting a colorful gift bag on the floor.

  I take a seat too. “So what’s your plan?”

  He sits. “Aren’t you still mad at me?”

  “Yeah.” I resume my knitting. “Why are you here?”

  He doesn’t answer right away. Then he starts laughing and shaking his head.

  I stop knitting and cock my head. “What’s so funny?” A smile tugs at my lips.

  He laughs harder, falling back into the couch cushions. “You. This. Us. Jesus, Lacey.”

  “Uhhhh…”

  “Yeah, I had a plan. I came here to bring you home. After I grovel for a while. We’re not getting a divorce.”

  “Oh.” A bubbly sensation starts fizzing in my chest. I set aside the willie warmer, my eyes fastened on his face. “Please proceed with the groveling.”

  He stops laughin
g, though his lips still twitch. He slides off the couch and moves in front of me on his knees. He takes my hands. “It wasn’t supposed to be quite like this…you will remember this, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I’m not stoned.”

  “Just a little high.”

  “Actually, I think it’s wearing off because I’m starting to freak out.” My heart is racing so fast it’s in my throat. My hands are trembling and I curl my fingers around his.

  “Don’t freak out. Okay, first…I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I fucked everything up.”

  “Yeah.”

  He huffs another laugh and drops his head forward briefly. “I don’t believe anything was going on between you and JP.”

  I meet his eyes, all humor disappearing. “Really?”

  He holds my gaze steadily. “Really. Okay, I was upset when I walked in and found you two. I was shocked, and you can understand why.”

  “Yes.” My tone is soft.

  “But once I thought about it and analyzed the odds of something like that happening again—”

  I can’t stop the laugh that escapes my lips. “Oh my God.”

  “And the fact that I do trust you, Lacey…I knew there was nothing going on.”

  “Plus I kept telling you over and over in every text and voice message I left. All damn weekend.”

  “That too. And that’s what I’m really sorry about. I should have talked to you. But this is what freaked me out—the fact that I was so hurt and jealous when I saw you and JP together. I…” He stumbles a bit, and I can see this is hard for him. “That meant I really cared about you, and I didn’t want to, because I knew you were leaving at some point. Our marriage wasn’t real, and I kept telling myself that was fine, because I was too busy with my new job, trying to prove myself and build a winning team. I had no time for a real relationship.”

  I nod, my throat squeezing.

  “But it was a real relationship…it is. I’m in love with you, Lacey.”

  I go very still. I stare at his face, his dear, familiar, beautiful face. His eyes are earnest, a little notch between his eyebrows, his mouth firm but with a hint of anxiety. “You are?”

  He nods slowly. “I love you. I couldn’t help it. Everyone loves you. But not like I do. I love your honesty. Your open heart. Your loyalty to people you care about. I love how you looked after your brother, even when I disapproved of it. I love your fifty billion hair products all over my bathroom.”

  “My hair is high maintenance.”

  “And I really love your hair.”

  I nod. I know this.

  “I love how you’ve made friends with my family and the people who live around us. I love how parties just seem to spring up out of nowhere when you’re around.”

  “Are you sure you love that?” I bite my lip. I know there are times he likes to chill, just the two of us.

  “I do love it, as long as I get you to myself sometimes. I love that you laugh at my bad jokes. And I love your massages. Actually, it’s not the massages…it’s the fact that you know when I’m stressed and you’re willing to give up your fun to make me feel better.”

  “Because…” I choke up and have to swallow past a massive blockage in my throat, blinking my eyes. “Because I love you too.”

  “Ah.” He lifts my hands and kisses them, keeping his eyes on me.

  My heart swells up huge in my chest and I pull in a shaky breath, fighting tears. “I love you too. I love your bad jokes.” A smile trembles on my lips. “I love your nitpicky OCD tendencies. I love that you went to see Chris and kicked his ass.”

  “I didn’t have to kick his ass. He was already doing what he had to do.”

  “Still.” My chin quivers. “You’re so generous and smart and honest. I love you.”

  He closes his eyes and presses my hands to his lips. I think he might be about to cry.

  “I love you,” I say again softly.

  He nods and opens his eyes, and they’re shiny. “I also came here to give you this.” He reaches behind him to grab the gift bag he brought and hands it to me.

  Curious, I take it and reach inside. Wrapped in bright pink tissue is…Pete. My heart leaps and my jaw goes slack. “Oh my God! You got him back!”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you do that?” I clutch Pete to my thudding heart.

  “I asked at the leasing office if anyone found your suitcase. They did. The guy tried to return it, but nobody was home at your apartment.”

  I nod slowly.

  “He kept it in the office for a while, and then he gave it to Goodwill.”

  My eyes widen. “You…”

  “He didn’t know which one it ended up at, so I spent today driving around to every fucking Goodwill store in Las Vegas.” He shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

  Because I’m smiling too. Hugely.

  “I finally found it in Paradise.”

  I laugh because it sounds funny. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “I can’t believe I remembered what Pete looks like.”

  I hug Pete tightly. My heart expands hard against my breastbone, obstructing my breath. My eyes sting and I squeeze them closed. He did this for me.

  “I didn’t get anything else back,” he says apologetically. “But this is what I was looking for.”

  I open my eyes and they fill with liquid. I rub a hand under my nose. “Thank you.” My heart is bursting. He did this for me. “Thank you so much.” My bottom lip trembles, and I sniffle and swipe my wet face.

  “And then…there’s this.” He reaches into the pocket of his jeans, digs around, and pulls out…a ring.

  My eyes go big as dinner plates.

  The diamond in the ring is nearly that big. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but it’s huge.

  He lifts my left hand. “You’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

  My cheeks heat. “Yes.” I didn’t want to take it off.

  “I love that. Now you can have the diamond engagement ring to go with it.” He takes my left hand and hesitates, peering up at me before sliding the ring on, waiting for my response.

  “We’re already married, you goof,” I say huskily. I wiggle my fingers.

  He slips the ring onto my ring finger. It’s a plain, shiny gold, the same as the wedding band, with one solitaire diamond. It’s gorgeous.

  “You’ll remember this, won’t you? I don’t want to tell our grandkids that I proposed while Grandma was lit.”

  I sob-laugh. “I’ll definitely remember this.” I slide off the chair to my knees too and throw my arms around him. “Although, the first time you proposed I think I was a little ham sandwiched.”

  He chokes on a laugh, and then our mouths meet in a long, heartfelt kiss. My heart is hammering, my body trembling. I’m floating and it’s not because of the weed I smoked…I’m in love and Théo loves me back.

  He lifts his head to change the angle of the kiss, going deeper, his tongue sliding against mine. His hands on my body are shaking too as he pulls me closer. Then he slides a hand up my back and into my hair, tangling in it, tilting my head so he can devour my mouth.

  I love him.

  I pour all my love into the kiss, my hands moving over him, and then kneeling on the rug isn’t working for either of us anymore and he plants a foot into the floor, standing and lifting me with him. He picks me right up off the floor and carries me into my bedroom while I cling to his shoulders, going straight to the bed. Then he stops.

  “What the…?”

  He’s staring at all the cute knitted peens spread over my bed.

  “I made those.”

  He turns incredulous eyes on me.

  I gaze back at him, trying for an innocent expression. “I missed you.”

/>   He cracks up laughing. “You missed one part of me a lot, apparently.” We fall together on the bed, on top of the penises. I’m laughing too now, until he kisses me again, rolling me under him. His weight on me is blissfully heavy, his hands in my hair send shivers sliding down my spine, his mouth moving on mine arouses a flood of longing, a yearning between my thighs.

  I’m breathless, dizzy, excited. “I need you,” I murmur when he kisses my cheek then my jaw, my hands clutching his shoulders. I lift my hips urgently against his thick erection.

  “Need you too, baby.” He sucks gently on my neck. “We’ll get there, don’t worry.” He brushes a kiss over my mouth. “Have more to tell you.”

  “Oh.” My eyes are heavy. I stroke my fingers through his thick, silky hair. “What?”

  He props himself on his elbows to look down at me. “I talked to JP.”

  “Oh! That’s so good.”

  “Yeah. I told him too that I knew nothing was going on that day. But I wanted to know why he was there.”

  “Emma.” She spits the word out. “He’s done with her. Thank God.”

  “So I hear. We talked things out. We’re good now. Mostly. Just don’t let me ever find you alone with him again.”

  I glare at him.

  He laughs and teases the sides of my neck with his thumbs. “Kidding. Anyway, he told me something that kind of stabbed me right in the heart. I told him I didn’t call you that weekend because I was so busy at the draft, but that was bullshit. I didn’t call because I was scared. But he also told me Emma said she ended things with me because I was never there. Always working. She felt she came second.”

  “Ohhhh.” I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and eye him. “I mean, she didn’t end things with you, but…I can sort of understand that.”

  “Yeah.” He screws up his face briefly. “My work is important to me. I work hard. I’ve been trying to prove myself again, like I did when I was a kid. But by making my work the most important thing in my life, I’ve lost other important things…and people. And the most important thing is…you. I don’t want to ever make that mistake again.” He meets my eyes. “Really. I promise to put you first…always.”

  My bottom lip quivers. “Thank you. But I know how important your career is to you. I want to support you in that.”