by S. R. Grey
She tsks, “Now, now, you don’t know that. From what I gleaned, after scouring practically the whole internet as it relates to hockey, nothing happened that night with Landen and that chick. He was just hanging with her. And yes, it was wrong and a stupid decision on his part. But it was basically harmless.”
“Basically harmless, my ass!” I exclaim. “He shouldn’t have been ‘hanging’ with anyone of the female persuasion. And did you see how he had his hand on her elbow, leading her all gently through the crowd?” I huff. “That was disgusting. Oh, and let’s not forget the lovely photo of the two of them chatting in a bar all cozy-like. It makes me ill.”
Bettina ignores my theatrics.
Still appearing thoughtful, she says, “True, it wasn’t a good look. But if nothing happened—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I interject, cutting her off. “It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Is it really, though?” she asks softly.
I look down and twist at a loose thread on the throw pillow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I think you’re the one keeping this going, Cricket. It’s like you’re pushing Landen away.”
“Yeah, right,” I murmur.
I’m resisting the truth. In my heart, I know she’s right.
Good thing the girl is insistent.
“It’s true,” she goes on. “Didn’t you tell me he’s been leaving messages like crazy?”
“Texts too,” I admit.
“See!”
“They’ve slowed down significantly,” I throw out as a counterargument.
But Bettina isn’t buying what I’m selling. “That’s because you haven’t replied to a single one, you goofball.”
“Goofball?” I raise a brow.
“It’s the nicest thing I could think of,” she admits. “I have more colorful terms if you want to hear them.”
“No, no.” I cover my ears. “I can only imagine.”
Scooting over, Bettina makes me lower my hands. “Hey, listen to me.”
“Why?”
“Because this is what friends are for, to set your stupid ass straight when you’re all over the place and screwing up your life. I know you love Landen. And he loves you. Mistakes happen, but love is worth fighting for.”
“Why do you have to always make so much sense?” I murmur, giving in.
Smiling smugly, she picks my phone up off the coffee table and holds it out to me. “Here, call Landen.”
I panic, shrinking away like the phone is toxic. “No, I can’t do that. I’m, uh, not ready to talk to him yet.”
“Will you at least text him, then? Just let him know you’re willing to meet up and talk.”
“I don’t know,” I mutter.
Bettina blows out a clearly frustrated breath.
And then she asks, “Do you still love him or not?”
I nod. “I do.”
“Then I think you know what you need to do now.”
I take the phone, albeit reluctantly.
And then I send Landen one simple text, one that reads I’m ready to talk if you haven’t given up on me.
Never Give Up
After the game, I return to the locker room. It’s pretty subdued since we lost.
Ah, but you can’t win them all.
Yeah, I’m learning that.
Sadly, I’m starting to think I really may not be able to win Cricket back.
What else am I to believe?
After dozens and dozens of attempts to communicate with her, I think she truly might be done with me.
Maybe she never really loved me in the first place.
Damn, that hurts to think about.
No one in the locker room is in the mood to talk, and that’s fine with me. I get undressed and secure a towel around my waist.
My phone is in my bag.
For the hell of it, I decide to check for messages from Cricket.
I expect nothing, but whoa, wait!
There’s a text from her.
I can’t believe it, so I have to read it, like, six times.
I’m ready to talk if you haven’t given up on me.
Is she crazy?
Smiling so big that it hurts, I text her back that I’ll never give up on you, beautiful.
She responds right away: Do you want to come over and we can talk?
Me: Are you kidding? Just let me grab a quick shower and I’ll head straight to your house. I’m in the locker room now.
Cricket: Okay. And then: Landen?
Me: Yes?
Cricket: I know we have a lot to talk about, but I need to tell you I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe.
Me: Babe, you don’t even know.
Cricket: Okay, I’ll let you go so you can shower. I’ll see you soon and we’ll talk more.
Me: You got it.
My heart is soaring.
I can’t wait to see her.
Quicker than I ever thought possible, I toss my phone back in my bag, take a speedy shower, and get dressed.
My teammates are looking at me like I’ve just lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
I do feel a little unbalanced, but in a really good, happy kind of way.
Cricket is obviously giving me a chance to set the record straight.
At least, I hope that she is.
It’s all I really want, a chance.
I bet I can make things right if she hears me out.
I think we both ran scared, and now we’re coming together.
God, I hope we are.
With that in mind, I say goodbye to my teammates and practically run out to my car.
The drive to Cricket’s townhouse is a blur.
I’ve never been so happy I have a really fast car.
I’m also pretty thankful that the roads aren’t congested.
In what feels like no time at all, I’m knocking on the door to her place.
Though I still have a key, just letting myself in doesn’t feel right.
We need to work back to that.
Like always, when Cricket opens the door, I’m in awe.
Even in drab gray sweatpants and a navy blue hoodie, with her honey blonde hair piled high on her head in a messy bun, she still has the power to take my breath away.
Before I can censor my words, I blurt out, “Baby, I love you.”
Though she rolls her eyes, I catch her grinning. “Just get in here,” she mutters as she tugs at my arm.
Hey, she’s smiling and touching me. It can’t be all that bad.
I let her lead me into her living room, where she gestures for me to take a seat on the sofa.
I plop down, adjusting my dress slacks.
I hate that I’m in fancy clothes—I have on a crisp white button-down in addition to the nice pants—and she’s so comfy and casual.
It makes this all feel far too formal.
But as long as Cricket’s comfortable, that’s all that matters.
And she seems fine.
When she takes a seat in the chair beside the sofa, she curls her legs up underneath her.
Placing her elbow on the arm of the chair, she leans forward and rests her chin on her fist.
Big azure eyes meet mine as she says, “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll always come for you, Cricket.”
We can’t help but smile at each other at the double meaning.
Looking away, she clears her throat. “Anyway, I think we should finally talk.”
Blowing out a breath, I tell her, “That’s all I’ve ever really wanted, a chance to explain my stupid behavior in Chicago.”
She bites her lip. “Look, I know nothing happened, Landen.”
“That’s true. But my actions were dumb. I don’t know what I was even thinking, hanging out with that girl. I clearly wasn’t.”
Sighing, she says, “I think I know why you did that, though. And I definitely know why I reacted the way I did, refusing to talk to you and not letting you come
to me and explain.”
I raise a brow and ask, “Can you tell me what that reason was?”
“Yes. We moved too fast, right from the start. It was too much.”
“Wait, Cricket—”
“No.” She holds up her hand. “Let me finish.”
I’m sufficiently cowed, as I should be.
“I’m sorry for interrupting you,” I murmur.
Softly, she reiterates, “We moved too fast, Landen. We did. Right from the beginning, when we agreed, as a result of you winning that bet—” Her eyes meet mine meaningfully. “—that we’d be exclusive.”
“You’re probably right,” I grudgingly admit.
Cricket sighs. “I mean, it was kind of cool in a way, not dating anyone else, not even considering other possibilities. But it made us essentially boyfriend and girlfriend right away.”
“It did.”
“And then a little time passed and we said ‘I love you.’”
She releases one long breath, and I do the same.
“True, we did. But…” I hold her gaze. “I meant it when I said it. And really, it wasn’t right away. We only said the words before I went away on the road trip. That was well into our relationship, Cricket.”
“Yes, but it suddenly put a lot of pressure on both of us on top of how we got started. Why else did you get cold feet?”
She’s right, and all I can do is shrug.
She sighs, and then says, “I think on top of our fast start, it became too much. I mean, what’s next, Landen? Marriage?”
She throws her hands up in the air.
But I just grin over at her.
“Landen, stop.”
I concede. “Okay, okay. I’m only kidding.”
“I know.”
If Cricket believes I was only teasing—which I’m not sure I was—why does she look so sad all of a sudden?
Interesting.
I make a mental note to think on that later.
I remind myself that we still have a long way to go to get there.
Man, I think the only speeds I have are zero or one hundred.
Is it nuts that I’m actually considering it?
Marriage, that is.
Shaking my head, I put that out of my mind and say, “Okay, I hear everything you’re saying, and you’ve made several valid points. Truth is, like I told you, I was feeling kind of freaked out, and I guess you could say I felt trapped. It all came to a head that night I hung out with the girl. Still, it was all of my own making. And you’re right. I should never have made you agree to see just me and only me in the beginning. It put a lot pressure on both of us. Maybe we didn’t see it then, but we sure see it now, don’t we?”
“Yeah.” She shrugs. “But I lost that bet fair and square.”
Softly, I murmur, “Can I share something with you about that?”
She looks really curious as she says, “Of course.”
“Even knowing what I know now, I’d still do it the same way all over again. I just don’t think I could stomach the thought of you seeing other men.”
Cricket rolls her eyes. “You would live.”
Her comment makes me worry, so I ask, “Do you want to see other people now?”
Saving me from complete heartbreak, she thankfully says, “No.”
“Thank God.”
“What about you, Landen? Do you want to see what else is out there for you?”
That’s an easy one to answer. “Hell no. I know what I want.”
“Do you, though?”
“I do.”
“Well, then I’m afraid you’re not going to like what I have to say next.”
My heart begins beating frantically.
Maybe Cricket was just punking me when she said she didn’t want to see other people.
Fuck.
“What is it?” I ask warily.
Sticking her hands into the big middle pocket of her hoodie, she eyes me defiantly. “Okay, here are the new rules. I’ll still date you, and only you. And the same goes on your side.”
“You got it.”
“But…” She holds my gaze. “I want us to take a step back. We need to start over in some kind of way, so we can get back to a good place. Can we do that, Landen?”
This doesn’t sound so bad.
A little confusing, yes, but not bad.
“Absolutely,” I say, still not sure what I’m agreeing to.
To my dismay, I find out when she smugly states, “You do know what I mean is that there will be no sex, right?”
A New Start
“Wait, what?”
It’s all I can do to not start laughing.
The look on Landen’s face is priceless.
“You heard me,” I tell him. Arching a brow, I then ask, “Can you live with no sex?”
Shaking his head, he looks down and says, “God, I don’t know.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. Like you’ve never had a dry spell?”
His eyes meet mine again. “I have, of course. And that’s fine. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you, and not be allowed to touch you.”
“We can still kiss,” I offer helpfully. “And hold hands.”
“Er, uh, maybe a few other things too?” He waggles his brows.
Damn, he’s so handsome, even when he’s being silly.
He thinks he’s going to have a hard time?
Ha!
I’m going to be dying of unfulfilled lust for this man.
I want to agree to “other things,” but that would defeat the whole purpose. The reason for my “no sex” rule is to redo what we moved too quickly on. Since we don’t want to totally not see each other, this is really the only part of the past we can change today.
I want us to ultimately reach the same point where we were prior to our problems, before things got stressful for us and consequently bad.
So I’m thinking if we follow this one simple rule, we shouldn’t feel trapped or like things are moving too quickly.
It’s all about control, and that starts with self-control.
Sighing, I maintain, “No sex means no sex, Landen. Not in any way, shape, or form. As you recall, we didn’t fuck right away.” He groans, and I go on. “We were, though, giving each other orgasms from date number one.”
“I know, I know,” he concedes, raking his hand through his messy blond hair.
“So no sex is okay with you?”
He doesn’t answer, and I prompt, “Landen?”
Reluctantly, he finally replies, “Yes, I’ll live with it. But damn.”
Damn is right.
Someone has to be strong, though.
I just hope I’m up to the challenge.
Clearing my throat, I tell him, “This will be good in the long run. You’ll see.”
Dejectedly, he replies, “I guess.”
We clearly need a break before we continue our discussion, so I stand and say, “I’m going to grab a glass of ice water. Do you want one?”
He nods. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great. Put extra ice in mine.”
That makes me laugh.
I figure the ice water will cool us both down in more ways than one, especially with the “extra ice.” I need to cool down because, crap, already knowing I can’t have Landen is making me want him even more.
I bet he feels the same way.
He’s shifting around uncomfortably over there on the sofa.
So why am I doing this again?
Oh, yes, to better our relationship.
Before I change my mind, I hurry to the kitchen to retrieve the water.
When I return, Landen seems more at peace with the decision.
After I hand him his glass of water, with the extra ice, I sit back down on the chair by the sofa.
Sighing, he says, “So can I ask you out on a proper date now? Since we’re being so formal and all.”
I take a sip of water, nodding into the glass. “Uh-huh.”
Landen clears his throat.
&
nbsp; He seems nervous suddenly, and, really, it’s cute as hell.
Maybe this is a good idea after all.
I have little butterflies too, of excitement and in anticipation.
“Cricket…” He leans forward. “Would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night? Say, around eight and to someplace nice?”
Oooh, only a one-day wait.
Perfect.
I don’t think I could stand days and days away from Landen. His road trip and our “break”—that’s what I’m calling it now—have accounted for more than enough time spent apart.
Breaking into a smile, I tell him, “Yes, I’d love to go to dinner with you.”
He raises a brow. “Maybe we can go see a movie afterward?”
I nod excitedly. “That sounds great.”
“Then it’s a date?”
“It is.”
A date I’m beyond excited for.
Date Night
Okay, so I wasn’t sold on this taking-a-step-back idea. But I’m slowly warming up to it.
It’s Saturday, early in the evening, and I’m getting ready for my “date” with Cricket.
The excitement I feel is palpable.
Though it promises to be hard as hell to not be all over her tonight, I’m up for the challenge. I’m keeping motivated by the thought of how hot it’ll be once we do end up back in bed.
“Fuck, man, I’m going to come in two minutes.”
I shake my head at my reflection in the mirror, my green eyes laughing at me as I smooth back my hair with some product.
No, you won’t, dude.
For her sake.
That’s right—I won’t.
I’m going to make our first time back to being physical amazing for her.
But for now, we have this date to contend with, so that’s where my head is.
It’s going to be fun.
I dressed to the nines, in a dark gray suit, white dress shirt, red paisley tie, and shiny-ass shoes.
I’m hoping to knock her socks off.
That’s why, once I leave the house, I detour to a local florist to pick up a bouquet of colorful and fragrant flowers.
Oh, and I’m in the Ferrari.
We’re going all out here.
I pull into Cricket’s driveway a short while later and cut the engine.