by TC Matson
Realizing I just cussed my mother releases a new fear. Had I been standing in front of her, she’d smack me.
“Remember when you were learning how to dive?” Her tone is soft. “I told you there was nothing to fear and to put your hands out and fall head first. You did it. And then you got out of the pool and did it over and over for a solid hour. It wasn’t long before you added a bounce, but you did it.”
I dig my fingers into my forehead.
“Love won’t hurt you, Kyce. It heals. It makes you whole. Sure, it’s uncertain, but not allowing yourself to feel is detrimental and it only punishes you.”
“Do you have these types of talks with Ryker and Jackson?” I ask, annoyed. Not at my mom, but at myself for being such a bitch.
“That’s none of your business,” she says sweetly. “I need to get going. Jeopardy is about to come on. But son?”
“Yeah?”
“Dive,” she says.
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay and Kyce?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you ever cuss at me again,” she says, striking fear into me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I’m a ten-year-old again with my head hanging low.
After we hang up, the urge to throw my phone overcomes me. Instead, I text Jolie.
Kyce: I don’t like this.
It’s honest. It’s raw. And for some reason, it pisses me off.
I left Jolie’s place around midnight and went home. This morning, I woke up with the need to hit the gym to rid myself of all the anxiety, the anger, but most of all…the defeat I’m feeling.
Ryker’s holding a punching bag for Carter when I enter. He glances to me and then tells Carter to take a hike.
I guess my exasperation is written all over my face. Being a Hayes, Ryker gets it and understands what I need. He tosses a pair of gloves at me and holds the punching bag. I waste nothing, taking every ounce of my anger, all my frustrations, all my everything out on the leather. Everything I’ve pent up for months. I’m so fucking mad at myself.
I don’t know how long I’ve been beating the fuck out of this bag, but I’m out of gas. My punches have lost their power. My arms are numb. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest. Placing my hands on top of my head, I close my eyes and breathe, focusing on catching it.
Ryker slaps the back of my head, rattling my brain. “Don’t stop when it hurts. Keep going.”
Seems like everyone’s words are directed at my situation with Jolie.
I drop my arms, deflated to the core. “You and mom ever have heart-to-heart talks?”
He studies me for a fleeting moment. “When I was younger, yeah. She used her super powers yesterday?”
My chuckle is breathless. “So spot on it was scary. How the fuck did we get away with anything when we were kids?”
“She chose her battles. I’m assuming she felt what was happening with Jolie?”
I shrug and he shoves my shoulder. It pisses me off and I land a few more punches into the bag before I’m empty again. “Were you scared when you fell in love with Whitney?”
He drops his arms to his side. “Are we about to have a heart-to-heart?”
I shake my head, feeling a little embarrassed. Ryker and I…we don’t do heart-to-hearts well. “Nah.” I swing a few more times into the bag, pushing it around.
“Not really,” he answers. “Not having her in my life was what scared me. Falling for her was easy.”
For him to share that…it’s phenomenal. Usually our conversations are full of wordy jabs and smacks over the head. This conversation is uncomfortable and weird, like a hug between us.
“You in love?” he asks, his tone clearly as uncomfortable as I am.
Restless, I toss a kick to the bag. Ryker doesn’t hold it. Instead he just watches me. Heaviness lands on me. Emotions run through me. It all breaks me down. “This whole situation is fucked up. Overnight she went from something to fuck to someone I want to be with. It’s hit me out of nowhere. I want to move out of the friendzone into the real zone, but I’m swimming against a current.” I rake my hands over my face, the gloves slick on my sweat. “We started with boundaries and I’ve crossed every fucking bit of them.”
I’m mad at myself for feeling this way. Angry I’ve allowed it. Pissed I wasn’t strong enough to fight it.
“With Whit, I knew. I felt that shit deep in my fucking soul. I knew I wanted to be with her.”
I swallow. I feel everything I do for Jolie in my soul and it’s terrifying as fuck. “Whitney has made you into a pussy.” I deflect to a joke because it’s easier to deal with.
He slams a rib shot and it takes my breath, doubling me over. “Whit gives me my strength. My son has softened me.”
He walks away, taking off his gloves and tosses them on the edge of his ring. I park my ass on the bench, keeping my head held low.
“Have you ever taken her on a date?”
I shake my head, unable to look up.
“Start there.”
“I doubt she’ll show up if she knew it was one,” I tell him.
He leans back on the ring and crosses his arms. “You’re a fucking halfwit. Don’t tell her. Just do it.”
“Trick her into it? She’d kick my ass all over the fucking city.”
He barks a laugh. “I’m so fucking glad you’ve met your match. That girl’s good for you.” He shifts, crossing one ankle over the other. “If you do the date right, she won’t beat your bitch ass. Cook her a meal. Do something romantic. Whit loves it when I do. It may claw at your skin, but I promise you’ll enjoy the benefits.”
I take off my gloves, dropping them by my feet.
“Why’d you come to me with this and not Jackson? You know he’s better at this vulnerable shit than I am.”
Tilting my head, I glance to him. “Jackson would try talking me into marrying her.”
Ryker shoves off the ring and heads for his office. “Fair’s in town next week…”
“You going?”
“No, you fucking dipshit. Take your girl. Or go to the drive-in. Whit loves the place.” He glances at the clock. “I’ve got to get Carter’s training in and you’ve got to get the hell out of here with your mushy shit. I’ve got a reputation to keep.”
Chapter 19
“You sabotaged it. Didn’t you?” Jordon leans against my office door.
It’s been a week since I’ve talked to Kyce and I’ve struggled with not contacting him, which is causing me to be more…moody. Maybe that’s not the right word.
“You’ve been bitchy as hell lately,” he adds.
That’s the right word—bitchy. That’s what I feel like. I walked away from happiness, from my feelings, from Kyce. Most people leave when they’re unhappy or have fallen out of love. Me? I ran because I have been falling for a man who doesn’t reciprocate the feelings, a man who helped lay the boundaries and respected my stupid rules. Not my proudest moment, but it’s who I am.
“That must mean you started to have feelings for him and you ran because Chris still holds all that power,” Jordon says.
It pisses me off. “Like you have room to talk. It took you years to move on from Victoria.” It was a low blow and I know it. The look on his face confirms it. “Go away.”
“Yeah. It took me a long while to move on. It’s the very reason why I know what you’re doing will only hurt you. No one else, Jolie. You. You’re letting opportunities pass because of that worthless fuck. Haven’t you wasted enough time on him?”
I don’t answer.
“Jenna will be here after closing. I’m taking her for a little weekend getaway. I’d like for you to meet her. Will you stick around?”
The thought of my brother happy brings a genuine smile to my face. “Yeah.”
“I’m here if you need to talk,” he says before pushing off the frame and disappearing down the hall.
Talking is the last thing I fee
l like doing. Everyone wants to talk. Scarlett. Jordon. Mom. All I need to do is process it alone. Convince myself that everything I feel is fake and I’m protecting myself from heartbreak. I don’t know what’s worse—being left at your wedding or unrequited love.
With one, you’re forced to realize your hopes and dreams were all a façade and the love you thought you shared somehow dissolved. With the other, you’re forced to be with someone you know doesn’t feel the same the entire time. It’s a torture you put yourself through.
They both are equally shitty situations.
I’m perched on the window sill in Jordon’s office, laughing at a stupid meme he showed me on his phone, when there’s a soft knock.
Jordon beams.
She’s stunning. She has long, dark brown hair framing her oval face and falling over her shoulders. Her piercing come-hither eyes, the color of hot chocolate, gleam as they latch on to my brother. She’s tall and slender wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and cream pants in heels I’d definitely break my neck in.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I had a patient stay over.” Her voice is just as pretty as she is.
Jordon hugs her and drops a kiss on her cheek. “No worries. I’ve been catching up with Jolie.” He turns to me. “This is my sister.”
Her petite hand has a powerful shake. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her nose is upturned slightly, but not in a snobbish way. Her lipstick is a deep shade of red that screams power. My brother hit a jackpot.
“He won’t tell me where he’s taking you,” I tell her.
“Me neither. I was instructed to pack comfortably, to bring a bathing suit in case the place has a pool, and to bring a book,” she says.
The beach. My brother loves the beach. When he was old enough to drive and young enough to not have a career, he went at least once a month for years until he met Victoria. She hated his paradise. Hated road trips, hated the smell, hated the water. She somehow forced him to quit going to his favorite refuge. He went back a few months after their divorce was final, but he hasn’t gone back since.
Him taking Jenna is colossal. He’s thinking seriously about her and it makes my heart smile.
My gaze slides to him, knowingly. “I’m sure wherever he’s taking you will be spectacular.”
Jordon pushes his chair under his desk. “I’ll be back Monday. If you need me before ju—”
“Stop. I can make it a few days without you, possibly longer.” I grin. “Go have some fun and don’t worry about the home front.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Jenna tells me. “We should have a dinner together soon.”
“I’d like that,” I say, meaning it.
Jordon’s eyes have the sparkle that’s been missing for years. They shine with happiness, pride, and adoration. I want to throw my arms around him and hug the shit out of him, but instead, I smile watching them leave.
This morning, Scarlett called me and suggested I meet her downtown so we could go to the grand opening of some art shop and then grab something to eat afterward. The food sounds great. The art…it’s not really my thing, but I decided to go so I can get out of the house instead of sitting here alone.
I window shop as I pass by the stores, perusing what’s on display. I haven’t walked the streets in a such a long time that I forgot just how much I love it. Fresh air invigorates me and soon I find a little pep in my step. This is exactly what I needed. Mix up my mundane routine.
Scarlett: New plan. Art Shop is packed. Meet me at the bistro.
Jolie: 20 mins.
I push the time so I can continue my thought-releasing journey.
As I pass a clothing store, an outfit on a mannequin catches my attention. Dark washed skinny jeans, a black t-shirt with a grayish scarf and black suede ankle boots. It’s trendy and cute, and that mannequin rocks the shit out of it. I’d look badass in this. The mannequin beside the perfect outfit…not so much. That’s a hippy train wreck with all the flowers.
As I start to step away, my shoulder slams into someone.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” I spin around.
An older woman smiles at me. “It’s—”
“Jolie?”
My breath snags. My gaze lands on him. “Kyce?”
The lady between us watches, her head bouncing from him to me before a small knowing smile rests on her lips.
“How are you?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“I’m good,” I say glancing around for an escape route, desperate to get away. “I’m so sorry I ran into you. I wasn’t paying any attention,” I say to the lady.
“It’s really okay. I’m Audrey, Kyce’s mother. And you are?”
Kill me.
“Jolie. I’m…” Your son’s most recent booty call? “A friend of his.”
Her brow tics slightly and it reminds me of Kyce.
“I have to get going. I have to meet a friend at Delizie’s in a few moments.” I keep my view on Audrey, desperate not to look at the man who has my head so screwed up.
“Oh. That’s where we were going for lunch,” she says sweetly.
“I thought we were—” Kyce starts but she interrupts him.
“You never listen. Do you? I said 5th Street Grille sounded good but I’d rather have Delizie’s,” she tells him softly.
He scratches the back of his neck.
My heart is in my throat.
“We can walk together,” she says and now my pulse is in my ears.
“I…” I stop, unsure how to tell her it isn’t a good idea and that I prefer her son to stay the hell away from me.
“Mom, she’s in a rush,” Kyce tries intervening again.
She pats his stomach. “Guess you need your running shoes on to keep up with us.”
Audrey jerks her chin and begins to walk in the direction of the bistro. My view darts to Kyce in a silent plea to get us out of this situation, but instead of sparing me, he lifts a shoulder and smirks.
Fabulous.
Jolie: Kill me. I ran into Kyce and his mother, LITERALLY, and now I’m being escorted to the restaurant.
Scarlett: How do you manage to get into these types of situations?
Jolie: The universe hates me.
Scarlett: Or loves you. Depends on how you look at it.
Jolie: I’m beginning to hate you.
Scarlett: You’ll get over it.
Thankfully, the walk is short and quiet as Audrey leads the way. Kyce pulls open the door to the restaurant and we step in.
“Thank you for walking with me,” I flash her a smile. “It was really nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy lunch.”
Her eyes are filled with so much warmth it reminds me of my mom and how she always looks at me. “Please join us for lunch.”
“I’m meeting a friend,” I remind her.
“He could join us as well,” she says and I want to laugh. What if I was meeting a guy? Kyce would die through lunch.
Instead of being evil, I place my halo on my head. “She. And that’s nice, but I couldn’t impose.”
“She—”
“Mom, please,” Kyce interjects. “She already has plans.”
“Don’t be silly. They both can eat with us. It’s not often I get to meet your friends.” There’s a hint of stern and a dash of a challenge in her tone. Her mind is made up and I’m not getting out of this.
“Mom…”
“If you Mom me one more time,” she warns Kyce and then blinks to me with compassion. “Please join us.”
Scarlett steps beside me and I exhale, happy as hell she’s here to help diffuse the situation. “Hey,” she’s all chirpy. “I’m Scarlett,” she introduces herself to Audrey before telling Kyce hello.
“Scarlett, I was just telling Jolie how I’d love for you two to join us,” Audrey says.
Hidden amusement and pure wickedness land on me when Scarlett casts her gaze to me. My soul drops from my body.
This bitch.
“That sounds great,
” Scarlett enthusiastically says the words that cause me to envision strangling her.
My mouth falls open. I want to call her all the names running through my head. I want to tell Audrey how I don’t need to be around her son. I want to run. But my body is frozen stiff.
Daggers are being thrown at Scarlett as she sits beside Audrey, leaving Kyce to sit beside me. I feel like he and I have been set up. Coincidence, the universe, and my best friend…they’re fucking evil back stabbers.
It’s a pleasurable torture being this close to him. He smells great, soap mixed with his cologne, clean and spicy, and I didn’t realize just how much I missed it. The warmth of his body close to mine causes my own to heat up, reminding me that at night I crave to feel his muscular arms wrapped around me. His voice is music to my heart…
It’s everything I’ve missed.
And I fucking hate it.
There isn’t much talk as we order our drinks. Awkwardness settles and Audrey and Scarlett strike up a conversation about the Art Shop grand opening and I hide into the descriptions on the menu, making myself appear to be preoccupied. I stay this way until it’s my time to order, now not hungry at all, ready to escape this hell.
“So, Jolie, how do you know my son?” Audrey asks.
I choke on the sip of soda. “We…um.”
“We met at a club. Some guy was harassing her and I stepped in to help. We’ve been friends since then,” Kyce saves it.
Audrey’s smile is prideful. “I’m glad you did. Is this the friend you were telling me about?”
Now it’s Kyce’s turn to choke, but I don’t save him, interested in his reply, but he doesn’t speak up.
“Thought so,” Audrey says and then leans closer. “He told me you were beautiful and fun.”
I’m sure he thinks I’m fun…
“Mom,” Kyce narrows his eyes.
She unfolds her napkin and places it on her lap. “I don’t know what you’re so annoyed about, son.” On her last word, she glances up and it’s clear there’s hidden reprimanding behind her stare.
While those two share a look, Scarlett must feel the awkwardness and finally saves the moment. “So, you’re Ryker’s mom then? You must be proud of him.”