Breaking Elle (45 page)

“And you’re okay with it?” He asks, his frown slowly weakening.

“Yes, I believe him. We all have shit in our past. You of all people should know how much I have. There’s stuff he still doesn’t know about me, and at some point, I’m going to have to tell him.” My voice waivers, but my eyes never leave his face.

Dropping his hands to his sides, he retreats, and his eyes churn with concern. “I know what you said, and you know what I said the other day and I meant it. I can’t make you do anything that you don’t want to do. I can only be here for you. And if you believe him, and if this is what you want to do, then I’ll stand by you. Just know that if he hurts you, I’m gonna have to kick his ass,” he says, cracking a charming smile.

“You’re the best.” I hug him. Relief washes over me knowing that he supports me and that he’ll never leave my side. “So, you really think you can kick his ass?” I laugh, grabbing my cell and shove it in my purse.

“Have you seen my guns lately?” He eagerly flexes his arms for me.

“Nah, I haven’t noticed anything.” I reply, smirking.

“Come here, you’re crazy.” He grabs my arm and pulls me in for a tight hug. “Seriously, you’re nuts.” He laughs.

I don’t keep track of the drinks. I just keep on drinking. I feel wound up like a yo-yo, and I just need to let go. The last thing I remember after the shot of Patron is dancing with a couple guys, and Tyler dragging me off the dance floor by my arm. I’ve never seen him so pissed in my life. We take a cab home instead of going home with Evelyn who wants to stay until the wee hours of the night. I am in and out of consciousness, feeling nauseous from the alcohol but the steady rhythm of Tyler’s heart beating on my cheek and his fingers rubbing my shoulder comforts me. He mumbles, thanking me for not being heavy as he fumbles to find the spare key. He’s the only one besides my family that knows where it’s located.

“Tyler.”

“Yeah, Elle.” He huffs, carrying me up the stairs to my bedroom.

“How much did I drink?” I ask, trying to lift my head to see his face but it falls limp into his chest.

“Seriously?” He whispers, smiling down at me. “When you have to be carried like this, it means you’ve blown through every flashing yellow light. You basically said fuck you to your blood alcohol content.” He chuckles softly.

I grin against his chest. “Was it your Long Island ice tea?”

“No.” He laughs. “I don’t like seeing you this way,” he says, tapping my bedroom door open with his foot.

“How is it that you like me?” I whisper, trying to fight past the effects of the alcohol.

He lays me down on the bed and sits next to me, pushing my tangled hair away from my face. “I like everything about you.” He turns away, and I could have sworn he said something else.

“I didn’t hear you. What did you just say?” I sit up even though my head is spinning. I touch his arm.

“You’ve never been able to hear me.” He still hasn’t turned to me. I capture his chin with more force than intended so he faces me. “I love
you
. I love
everything
about you,” he whispers fiercely, dropping his eyes to the floor.

Clutching his face in my hands, I kiss him, kiss him hard because I want to and my heart tells me I need to. He wasn’t expecting it, gasping in surprise; but then he meets me, gently grabbing my neck, pulling me closer, and kissing me back. I run my hands through his hair, but he snatches my hands away, pulling his lips from mine.

“No! This is not how I pictured it,” he whispers harshly. “I won’t have it this way. You’re drunk.” He stands up and slowly lowers me back on the bed, placing both of his hands on either side of my face on the mattress, staring into my eyes. “Get some sleep. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

I close my eyes unable to say anything. I feel his lips on my cheek, and hear his footsteps and the click when he closes the door behind him.

Fuck. I don’t want to see Campbell while I’m home. That was the first thing I said to JuJu and Tommy when I told them I was coming home. I should’ve known she was going to be here in the first place. The Lone Star is the most popular hangout in town. We used to come here all the time when we were dating, but I was hoping she had moved on from this place. I heard she’s dating a big oil guy, but from the way she’s looking at me now from across the room, she’s not satisfied.

I can tell she’s different now, more assertive, and confident, flirting with a couple of guys near the dance floor. She wasn’t that way with me. I don’t know if was because of me or maybe she just finally grew up or she’s drunk.

The memory of her returns; they’re just memories and nothing else. When I used to think of her, I’d feel sad about the break up, thinking about what could’ve been. Seeing her now and knowing what I have with Elle, I’m glad I let her go. Your perception changes over time. People change over time. I know I have.

I was a ladies’ man on campus, but I wasn’t as bad as the rumors made me out to be. That was just part of being the star wide receiver on the football team. It doesn’t help when most of the players on the team enjoy extracurricular activities with numerous females. They kind of lump athletes all together as having no attachments, always thinking with the wrong head. A big group of guys with big egos and raging hormones.

I remember the first time I met Campbell. She was different from the other girls I met. She came from a good family, and she was smart and sweet. She caught my eye at one of the practices that her girlfriend who made the rounds through the team dragged her to. Dating an athlete didn’t interest her like the other girls on campus. That reason alone made her more of a mystery to me. I wanted to know what she was about. She was the first girl who I pursued on campus, and I got shit for it from my other teammates. At the time, it was worth it to me. She changed me.

The pursuit, the challenge was the best part about it. I think I scared her. I liked that. She had that deer in the headlights look. All I wanted to do was save her or maybe I needed saving. When she finally let me in, we complemented each other. She gave me balance and I gave her the opportunity to live a little. The next year we were inseparable until my mom got sick. I was devastated and didn’t know how to handle it. Campbell’s lack of support hurt because she knew how much my mother meant to me. She was the only girl in my life that I really cared about apart from my momma and sister.

I didn’t ask too much from her. She did try. I’ll give her that. Seeing Momma like that was as hard for her as it was for me. Juju and Momma loved her. She became part of the family for a little while. I don’t think she was prepared for the drama that was taking over my life. With all my visits to the hospital, she started to spend less and less time with me and said that she needed to focus on her studies. I gave her what she wanted, but she continued to push me away, and it hurt. It turned out to be a blessing since I was able to spend more time with Momma. Every day that she woke up was a gift.

That’s when I got my tattoos. I never knew if my mother would make it. The tattoos were my way of honoring and cherishing her. After Campbell, I wasn’t interested in dating, and I went back to my old ways, no strings attached, and no commitments. With the possibility of a professional football career, I needed to focus on that and not women.

Yes, Campbell is a looker, but I don’t feel it anymore. She’s wearing a skirt that barely covers her ass and a fitted tank top that barely holds in her perfect breasts. I’m sure I could have her if I wanted to, but my bad boy days are over. I turn away and concentrate on the beer in front of me while watching the sports highlights on the TV while Tommy and Juju play darts.

All the seats at the bar are full and there’s a mixture of people from fresh out-of-college to early thirty somethings. There’s a dimly lit area towards the back where some guys are playing pool, a hallway to the right that leads to the bathroom and a small dance floor in the center of the room where a couple of females are dancing to a Carrie Underwood song. They’re singing about taking a Louisville slugger to her cheating boyfriend’s souped up ride.

It looks like nobody recognizes or remembers me here besides Campbell, and that’s how I want it. Just me, my beer, and nothing else. I zone out watching the images flash across the TV and finish my beer. I see her long, wavy blonde hair in the mirror behind the bar and my stomach drops. It’s too late for me to get up without making it look obvious that I am trying to avoid her. I order another beer, twist off the cap, and take a long swig. Fuck, I don’t want to deal with this.

“Reed, how are ya?” Plastering a weak smile on my face, I slowly turn and focus on her blue eyes, trying hard not to admire the breasts that are barely able to stay inside her bra.
Can she breathe?
Regardless, she looks hot as hell. I remember the other reason why I dated her now. The physical attraction was undeniable and the sex was fucking amazing, but that can only take a relationship so far. Realizing what I feel for Elle, I know what I felt for Campbell wasn’t love. I flick my eyes up at her and take another pull of my beer. Yep, not love. The thought of losing or giving up Elle would be worse than any kind of hit I’d take on the football field. Never felt that with Campbell. If I did, I wouldn’t have given her up so fast and so easily.

“So good to see you,” I say, looking past her toward my sister. I’m trying to make eye contact with her, but she’s too busy flirting with Tommy to pay me any mind. I’m a grown man, and I should be able to take care of myself.

Campbell swiftly reaches around and hugs me, purposely rubbing her body against mine. She smells like vanilla, my fucking favorite scent. Why the hell is she still wearing that shit? This whole thing feels planned out or something.
What the hell?
I awkwardly pull away, feeling her tight body underneath my fingertips. Son of a bitch! This shit cannot be happening right now.
God, I miss Elle.

“What’s wrong?” She steps back, pouting. “You hate me, don’t you?” She smiles coyly. Crossing her arms across her chest, she pushes up her breasts ever so slightly as I imagine my mouth on them, my hands cupping those perfect size C’s.

I don’t respond. All I’m thinking is how good she looks and how she would feel.
Fuck!
Must be the beers. How many have I had so far, four or is it five? I wasn’t expecting this right here. She knows how many beers it takes for me to get drunk. Has she been watching me this whole time? Waiting until I have enough alcohol to lose my grasp on what’s right and wrong? This came without warning, a sneak attack, some kind of ambush.

I could never hate you, Cam, but things are different now,” I say, looking desperately across the bar for my sister or Tommy.

“You still look the same to me,” she replies seductively, rubbing my bicep.

“Don’t do that,” I reply, getting an ache, fighting the urge to do something I know I will regret. It only makes her come in closer, rubbing her chest against my body. I drink the rest of my beer, my eyes slipping down her top, her eyes meeting mine when I look back up. She bites her bottom lip and grabs my ass. I don’t remember her being this forward before.

“I got a girlfriend, Cam. You have to stop this.” I moan. The alcohol is doing its job.

“Is she here?” She whispers in my ear. Her lips skim my earlobe and her breath flows down my neck. I’m instantly hard. All I want to do is throw her down and have my way with her.
Fuckin’ beers and fuckin’ old ways.
“I didn’t think so,” she murmurs confidently.

Funny how the tables are turned. I was the one putting the moves on her and now she’s the one putting the moves on me.
Ain’t that some shit?
The good ole alcohol always makes you think and do shit that you never intended on doing. I don’t see Tommy and my sister anymore when I look across the room in a half ass attempt to save my own butt.

“Do you want to go outside and get some fresh air?” She asks, “It’s kinda hot in here.”

“Sure,” I reluctantly reply, drinking my beer. This isn’t the brightest idea because she’s been all over me, but I need to get out of here and get some fresh air. I scan the room one more time for my sister and Tommy before she grabs my hand. Where the hell did they go? We cut through the crowd, bumping into people as we pass through when a guy steps from the bar and blocks our path. He’s got shaggy brown hair, a goatee, and tattoos covering his right arm. He looks familiar, and I must to him too, because his eyes never leave my face until he steps aside to let me walk past him. I glance over my shoulder and notice he’s still watching me as I make my way out of the bar. Must be one of those mistaken identity things or maybe he’s just a football fanatic.