by Blake Wilder
I shook my head.
Not a second’s hesitation.
I’d avoided the subject of dissolving our marriage with Charley as much as possible last week because, with each passing day, it only became clearer that we were good together.
No. Better than that. We were perfect.
Or we had been. Until she’d said those three little words.
I couldn’t begin to count the number of women who’d told me they loved me in the past. And I was pretty sure none of them had meant it, the words driven either by sexual lust or a lust for my money and fame.
Charley had meant them.
And…dammit…I loved her too.
All of those thoughts had drifted through my head as we lay there in the grass in my parents’ backyard.
But before I could admit my feelings to her, there’d been that goddamned knee-jerk reaction. The Alex Stone stonewall that popped up in the face of any sort of real emotion made an appearance, and before I could tear it back down, Charley had seen it.
And before I could backtrack, before I could confess I felt the same way, Bella had shown up.
After that, I hadn’t found a way to get us back to that moment. We’d been surrounded by our families and then, back at her apartment, it hadn’t felt right. If I’d said I love you to her then, she wouldn’t have believed me. Would have assumed I was saying it just to ease the tension between us. Or worse, she would have put it in the same category she’d put our date to the wedding—assuming my words and actions were born of pity.
Which was ridiculous.
“I’m in love with her.”
The second the words were out, it felt as if someone had popped the balloon. All the air flew from my lungs, my chest burned, my heart raced, my stomach ached.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Is love supposed to make you feel like shit? I feel like I’m dying here, man.”
Glen smiled and patted my arm. “Yep. That’s how you know it’s the real deal.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“Tough,” Glen said. “You’re on my shit list right now. First, you ignored all my good advice about prenups, and secondly, I’ve never even heard of this Charley, the woman who did the impossible and brought Alex ‘I’m never fucking getting married’ Stone to his knees. It’s clear you’ve known her forever.”
“I’ve told you about her. She was the tomboy on my hockey team growing up.”
Glen’s mouth actually fell open. “The one who gave you a fat lip before homecoming? The one you called a brute?”
Before I could reply, Glen fell apart, laughing his ass off. I was torn between punching him and cracking up myself.
No one was more shocked than me that I’d fallen hard for Charley.
It took Glen a few minutes to get himself under control.
“You finished?” I asked as the guffaws started to die down.
He nodded.
“Good. Because I screwed up and I need help.”
“You got it.”
Glen and I spent the next hour figuring out my next move.
Getting Charley to Baltimore and the game was step one. Then it would be time to start executing the rest of the plan. I was going to call in every favor ever owed to me.
And then, I was going to pray.
“I’ll get the car and meet you out front. You settle up the tab,” Glen said.
I walked to the bar to pay, then headed outside.
“Remember me?”
I turned at the sound of the female voice, a beautiful blonde stepping close and slipping her arm through mine.
She looked vaguely familiar.
Then the light went on.
The barracuda.
I tried to extract my arm casually, but the woman had a strong grip.
“I was just heading out,” I said coolly, hoping she’d get the picture. I didn’t want to have to manhandle her hand off me, but I would.
“Hey, Alex!” someone called out.
I glanced over as several cameras flashed.
I hated paparazzi. I shook off the woman’s arm before the hounds could descend.
Mercifully, Glen pulled up just at that moment. I climbed in, anxious to escape.
“Gun it,” I said to Glen.
I glanced back briefly to check on the barracuda. She was talking to the photographer.
Shit.
Charley
I closed the refrigerator door after grabbing a PBR. It had been three days since I texted Alex to say I wouldn’t make it to Baltimore until the weekend, and with each passing day, my anxiety had only grown.
Time apart had given me way too much time to think.
Actually, thinking was too mild a word. What I’d been engaging in was one long, never-ending panic attack, plain and simple.
I’d played the fool twice in two weeks—once with Ben and then again with Alex. My pride and my heart were beaten, battered beyond all recognition and I was done.
I had gone to the librarian’s conference and managed, thanks to the hectic schedule, to put Alex out of my mind.
Well, sort of out of my mind.
Okay, so basically, he’d been placed on simmer, always there, but contained.
My ability to forget about how stupid I’d been ended three seconds after I’d gotten home on Monday and, in a state of panic, I’d taken the coward’s way out and texted him, telling him I couldn’t make it until the weekend.
One night I could handle with him—maybe.
Six days? Nope. No way.
Now it was Thursday. The clock was ticking and my heart was in no better shape.
I took a swig of the beer, and then looked around my kitchen. It had been cleaned to within an inch of its life. Same for the rest of the apartment.
Whenever I was stressed out, I cleaned. Bella had taken one look around last night when she’d stopped by to check on me and suggested I bring my stress-ridden clean freak over to her place for a few hours.
I’d laughed last night, but now, I was out of stuff to clean and sort of considering it.
My eyes landed on the fridge and I smiled. That could use a scrub.
I’d just pulled out the 409 when there was a knock at the door. I glanced at the clock. It was just after five. Bella must’ve knocked off work early today.
True to her word, she’d been right by my side since my return on Monday, listening as I talked way too much about Alex and the one glorious week we’d spent together.
The one thing I hadn’t told her about was the elopement. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t. It wasn’t like it would make me look any less like a lovesick fool, but for some reason, that secret felt like something meant for just me and Alex.
I walked to the door and swung it open. “You’re earl—”
I appeared to have surprised Ben as much as he surprised me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I—” He paused at the sound of my hostile tone. While I was crying my heart out over Alex, all I could summon for my cheating ex was barely contained rage.
Ben girded his loins. “I came to pick up the rest of my stuff.”
“Oh. Fine.” I turned around and pointed to a pile of boxes in the corner of the living room. Packing up his stuff was the first thing I’d checked off my cleaning-frenzy list. “It’s all there.”
“You packed it for me? You didn’t have to do that.”
I shrugged.
“How have you been?” he asked.
I stepped aside, sighing heavily as I waited for him to enter. I was not in the mood to make small talk with him. “Might take you a few trips to get it all to your car. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Charlotte, wait.” He stepped into the apartment and closed the door.
I whirled around on him. “Charley. My name is Charley, Ben. It’s always been Charley. You know that.”
He ran his hand through his hair, and for a second, he appeared almost nervous. “I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at the wedding last w
eekend. I got a little intoxicated and…I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
I had overheard the things he’d said to Alex at the bar, encouraging him to find a hotter, sexier woman. At the time, I’d been drunk enough—okay, horny enough—that the sting hadn’t been that bad.
Right now, it hurt like hell.
“I’m not in the mood to talk about any of—” God, I was suddenly too tired for this. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
I hadn’t made it two steps before Ben blurted out, “Beverly dumped me.”
I’m not sure what response Ben was expecting from me, but it was obvious I took him by surprise when I glanced over my shoulder and simply said, “Sorry,” and kept walking.
The fact that Ben followed me to the kitchen just confirmed how shitty my life really was at the moment.
“She was pissed off at me for the way I behaved at the wedding. Charlo—Charley. I made a mistake.”
“We all had too much to drink at the wedding,” I said.
He shook his head. “Not that. I mean with us. Beverly said I clearly wasn’t over you. And…she’s right. I’m not. I don’t think I ever will be.”
He wasn’t seriously here to try to get me back. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…
“There is no us, Ben. That’s over.”
“I just thought…after seeing what Alex did to you…it made me realize how horrible I’d been.”
“What Alex did?”
Ben pulled his cell from his pocket, clicked a few buttons and handed it to me. “You know how I read a couple of hockey blogs. This popped up this morning and…”
On the screen was a picture of Alex with a very voluptuous, beautiful, fake-as-hell blonde on his arm. According to the caption and a quote from the woman, Jeanine Sheridan, she and Alex were a serious item and she’d been helping him through the tough loss in game seven of the semi-finals. She even alluded to the fact there might be wedding bells in their future.
My blood turned to ice water. For days, I’d been a powder keg of emotion, throwing off serious sparks. Now, I felt nothing. I was numb.
“Sounds like he’s been seeing her a while,” Ben said, as I handed the phone back. “I’m really sorry, Charley. When I saw that, I realized cheating was a shitty thing to do to someone you loved and I—”
“Get your stuff,” I said, wanting him to get the fuck out of the apartment. He didn’t belong here, and if he said too much more, I wouldn’t be able to keep from slugging the asshole.
It was funny to me how a week ago, I couldn’t walk around the place without remembering Ben. Now, as I looked around, every memory was of Alex.
“Marry me,” Ben said. “We can book flights to Vegas tonight and elope. Just like you always wanted to.”
It was too much. It was all too fucking much.
I laughed. Loudly. Huge, gasping-for-breath, belly laughs, peppered with huge snorts. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t hold back the laughter, couldn’t reclaim control.
Jesus.
Ben looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Charley? Are you okay?”
“I’m not marrying you, Ben. Today or ever.”
He frowned, then glanced at the PBR on the counter behind me. “Are you drunk?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a tool. I’m sober as a stone, so this rejection is real.”
He scowled. “Fine. I can see I made a mistake in coming here.” Ben returned to the living room and he managed to get the rest of his shit out in two trips.
I basically held my breath until he was gone and then I sank down on the couch. With Ben out of the apartment, I’d expected the numbness to fade, the tears to start falling.
But nope. Nothing.
I felt like a zombie.
A zombie who knew what to do.
Grabbing my phone, I texted Alex.
Not going to make it at all.
His response came back in less than five seconds.
Why not?
Something came up.
Something with bleach blonde hair and fake tits.
This time, it took him a lot longer to reply. When he did…
I rebooked your flight. You’re getting in early Saturday afternoon. Check your email for the ticket info.
I read his response three times, then went to my email. Sure enough, there was an e-ticket there.
I just said I wasn’t coming.
I could imagine his arrogant tone when I read his reply.
And I just said you were.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Are you insane?
Alex ignored my question.
There will be a car at the airport to pick you up to bring you straight to the game. I’ve booked a hotel room for us at the gala venue. You can change into your fancy dress after the game. Wear that green dress from the wedding. You look hot in that.
My head was seriously about to explode.
Are you listening to me????? I’m not coming!!!! Take Jeanine.
Who?
That took me aback, but before I could text back, he beat me to the punch.
If you don’t show up, I’ll announce our marriage to the press right after the game.
I reared back on the couch. Then I actually checked my contacts to make sure I was really texting Alex. None of what he was saying made sense. Why did my appearance there matter if he was dating someone else?
You won’t do that. Our parents don’t even know.
Alex didn’t miss a beat.
They’ll read about it in the paper.
I was pretty sure—sixty percent sure—he was bluffing about telling the press about our marriage. Maybe fifty percent.
Why are you doing this?
Because you agreed to go to the game and gala with me.
All I could figure was Alex Stone, stud of the century, was pissed about me trying to stand him up. Poor rich gorgeous sex god had probably never been rejected.
It was the only thing that made sense.
And yet, it didn’t. None of it did.
I kept flashing back to my week with Alex. Every single second of it had been perfect.
He’d been perfect.
He had given me a week I would never forget. He’d helped soothe my wounded pride and shown me that love wasn’t impossible, even for a gangly, inexperienced, rough-around-the-edges tomboy.
For the first time since he’d returned to Baltimore, I smiled—really smiled. If all he wanted was one last hurrah, then I was in. I’d show up for the game and soak up every bit of the night. I’d live in the moment with Alex for just one last night.
It wasn’t like the fallout from it could be any worse than this.
So on Saturday, we’d steal another night. We’d drink, dance, fuck…and sign the annulment papers. End it the way it began. With a bang.
I took a deep breath, then texted, Fine. I’ll be there.
See you Saturday, sweetheart.
Dammit.
I’d been one cool cucumber up until that second. Right until he called me sweetheart.
Then I fell completely apart.
Fourteen
Charley
I cheered as Alex sunk a goal—his second—into the net. Time was winding down on the third period. According to the Jumbotron, immediately following the game, there would be a special presentation, where I assumed they’d announce how much money they’d raised for their cause.
A huge part of me couldn’t believe I’d almost missed this trip. The entire day had been like something out of a dream. Alex had booked me a first-class ticket to Baltimore, then I’d been greeted at the airport by a limo driver, who’d brought me straight to the rink, where I’d been escorted to the owner’s box.
I was on my second margarita, surrounded by the wives and girlfriends of the other players, all of whom were super nice. Like me, they were dressed casually, in jeans and Baltimore attire. I was sporting my Alex Stone jersey.
They’d welcomed and included me in their
conversations. A couple had even brought their daughters’ copies of Tomboy Tess for me to sign, which surprised me. Obviously, Alex had told his teammates that I was coming. I hadn’t really expected that.
Even the owner of the team and his wife had introduced themselves and said they were glad I could attend the gala tonight.
The exhibition game featured current and former Baltimore players going up against a college hockey team. It was a friendly game and I could see how much fun it was for the younger guys to play against their idols. All the money benefitted a charity organization headed up by the owner’s daughter that provided money to foster children, so that they could participate in school athletics. According to the owner, they paid for equipment, registration fees, and even provided transportation to practices and games, if necessary.
“You must be Charley. Alex said you’d be watching from the box.”
I glanced up to see an attractive man in an expensive suit smiling down at me.
He extended his hand. “I’m Glen Martin, Alex’s lawyer.”
My chest tightened as he claimed the seat next to me. While I knew I’d come to Baltimore to sign the annulment papers, now that the lawyer was here, I realized exactly how much I hated giving up my secret, too-temporary status as Alex’s wife.
I fiddled with my wedding ring. While I’d taken it off whenever I went out in public, I put it back on the second I was home and alone. I had intended to pack it in my luggage this morning, but at the last minute, I’d slipped it from my left hand to my right, not wanting anyone here to spot it and get the wrong idea, but not wanting to take it off completely either.
It felt funny on the wrong hand, yet something told me it would feel even worse when it was gone.
“Nice to meet you. I didn’t realize we were signing the paperwork here. I guess I thought we’d do that tomorrow.”
“I’d intended to be here for the entire game, but I got held up at the office.” He looked up at the time clock. There were three more minutes left in the game. “Damn. We’re cutting it close. Would you mind coming with me? Alex asked if I’d escort you down to the rink for the end of the game.”