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Authors: Shanna Hatfield

Love at the 20-Yard Line (21 page)

BOOK: Love at the 20-Yard Line
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Chapter Sixteen

 

Wednesday morning found Haven still brooding over Brody’s behavior Saturday night.

He’d hurt her feelings and made her question how much he truly cared for her.

If she was smart, she’d use this little upset as an excuse to break things off with him before her heart became any more entwined with his.

For once in her life, though, Haven didn’t want to be smart. Or safe. Or cautious.

She wanted to love Brody with all the passion he aroused in her and not worry about what the consequences might bring.

Instead, she sat at her desk, trying to figure out if she’d misinterpreted his interest in her or if he truly just needed some space after being injured at the game.

She read the same report a third time, hoping to pay enough attention to retain some of the information.

A knock on her door drew her attention. She forced a smile and waved a welcoming hand to her assistant. “Come in, Jordan. What have you got there?”

“Some files Mr. Young wanted you to review. It’s a new account and he wanted you to share your thoughts on the notes he placed on the top page,” Jordan said, handing Haven a stack of folders.

“Great. I’ll get on these before lunch,” Haven said, lacking her usual enthusiasm.

“I’ll let Mr. Young know.” Jordan backed out the door. Haven seemed awfully quiet and subdued, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Haven was finishing the last of her notes to send to Mr. Young when the man stopped by her office.

“Jordan said she gave you the files on the McClaskey account. Did you have a chance to review them?”

“I did, sir. I was just finishing up a report for you.” Haven printed her notes and handed the page to her boss, along with the stack of files.

“You okay, Haven? You’ve seemed kind of down in the dumps this week,” Mr. Young observed, standing in the doorway.

“I’m fine, but thank you for asking.” Haven made a mental note to do a better job of concealing her feelings.

“Anytime. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know,” Mr. Young said before he disappeared down the hall.

Haven released another sigh and sat for a moment with her forehead resting against her palms when she heard a throat clear. She looked as the receptionist stood in the doorway.

“You’ve got a call on line two. He’s been on hold a while.”

“Did he give you a name?”

“I believe he said Brad Jackson?” The receptionist often failed to get the right name and the habit drove Haven crazy.

“Brody Jackson, perhaps?” Haven suggested with a note of annoyance in her voice. “Please tell him I’m unavailable.”

“But you…”

“I’m unavailable. I’m leaving for an appointment.” Haven jumped up and grabbed her purse. She shut the office door behind her and walked outside so fast, it left both the receptionist and Jordan gaping after her.

Upset, Haven drove home and didn’t bother to change before throwing herself down on her bed and allowing herself to have a good cry. She hadn’t done that in ages and once the tears subsided, she got up and washed her face with cool water. After changing into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, she called Allie and asked her to stop by after work, throwing in the added bribe of making her cousin’s favorite noodle and chicken casserole for dinner.

While she waited for Allie to arrive, Haven stared out the front window, lost in her thoughts.

A part of her wasn’t surprised Brody resorted to calling her at the office.

He hadn’t bothered to call or text her all day Sunday or Monday. By Tuesday morning, Haven wasn’t sure if she should be devastated or angry.

Tuesday afternoon, he sent her a text with a brief apology for his curt behavior. When she ignored it, he called her cell and left two messages that she also ignored. She’d barely arrived home from work that evening when she heard a knock on her door.

A glance out the peephole confirmed he stood on her doorstep, looking contrite, but she still wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not after he ignored her for two and a half days, kicking her out of his apartment when all she wanted to do was be a good friend.

Haven pretended she wasn’t home, tiptoed to her bedroom and shut the door, waiting for him to leave. She was glad she always locked the door behind her or he’d have no doubt walked inside and confronted her.

Her cell rang while he continued knocking, so she turned it off. He finally gave up and left, but not before she heard her nosy neighbor yelling at him to stop all the pounding when Haven clearly wasn’t answering.

She awoke that morning to two text messages and another voice message from Brody. Purposely ignoring them, as well as the three messages he left on her office phone throughout the day, she thought maybe he’d finally get it through his head she didn’t want to talk.

Her traitorous heart, though, longed to see him. To breathe in his enticing scent. To feel his arms around her, and his lips teasing hers.

Swiftly shutting down those thoughts, she smiled as Allie hurried across the parking lot to her apartment.

When she opened the door to her cousin and friend, she gave her a big hug and invited her in.

“What’s up? You hardly ever invite me over for dinner unless you’ve got something you want to talk about,” Allie said, in her normal blunt fashion.

“Let’s eat first and then you can give me some advice.” Haven closed her front drapes, paranoid that Brody might try to peer inside, then escorted Allie into the kitchen.

They talked about family and upcoming activities while they ate. As they did the dishes, Allie shared something funny Rick had done that made them both laugh. After taking glasses of lemonade to the front room, they sat on the couch and Haven released a sigh.

“I know you’ve said it before, but I’ll admit I’m completely hopeless and clueless when it comes to men,” Haven said, trying to keep her tone light although tears stung her eyes.

“It’s beyond my ability to comprehend how a girl with three older brothers and many obnoxious male cousins has no idea how men think, act, or operate, girl. It’s just not right,” Allie teased. The look on Haven’s face made her reach out and grasp her cousin’s cool hand in hers. “What did Brody do?”

“What makes you think Brody did anything?” Haven pulled her hand out of Allie’s grasp and cuddled a pillow to her chest, leaning back into the couch cushions.

“For starters, Aunt Rachel told Mom that you didn’t want to go out to the farm Sunday afternoon because you had some flimsy excuse about having stuff to catch up on for work. You haven’t called me since Saturday afternoon and we usually talk at least once a day or text. Hale said you nearly took his head off when he stopped by Monday and I know for a fact you’ve been crying because your eyes were still all red when you answered the door,” Allie said, listing the reasons for her accurate assumption. “The only person I can think of who could upset you that much is Brody. I say that only because any moron can see you’re totally gone for the hunky football hottie.”

Haven was reminded, once again, she had no talent for hiding her feelings. None whatsoever.

“Spill. What did he do that’s got you so worked up?” Allie looked concerned. “You didn’t catch him with one of his adoring fan club who hang around after the game, did you?”

“No! It’s nothing like that. It’s just…” Haven tried to find the words to express her feelings.

“Just what? Come on, you know you can tell me anything.” Allie patted Haven’s knee. “What’s the matter?”

Haven sighed again before the words burst out of her mouth. “I think I’m a terrible kisser. Every time we get… involved, Brody pulls back then goes home. Every time. One minute I’m convinced he really does like me, and then the next, he acts like he wants to be anywhere except with me. The other night he got hurt at the game and I went to his apartment afterward to make sure he was okay. He wasn’t, but he kicked me out. Told me he didn’t need or want me. What am I supposed to think?”

She sniffed and tried to curtail her tears before they morphed into full-fledged sobs.

“Oh, honey.” Allie gave Haven a hug. When she patted her on the back, Haven couldn’t keep her tears contained any longer and reached for a box of tissues she kept on a side table.

“I’m so confused and hurt and don’t know what to do. Am I really that awful at kissing?”

Much to Haven’s dismay, Allie laughed. “I don’t think that’s your problem. Not at all.”

Haven looked at her, irritated, and shook her head. “I didn’t ask you to come over so you could laugh at me. I need your help!”

“I know. Just calm down.” Haven’s behavior confirmed Allie’s suspicion that the girl was completely over the moon for Brody. “When you and Brody are kissing, who usually initiates it?”

“He does, most of the time. Why?”

“Just answer my questions.” Allie tipped her head thoughtfully. “Does he hold you close, act like he’s enjoying it?”

Haven sighed. “Yes, at first. Then the more… fervent the kisses become, the more he tenses up and then he pulls away.” Brody seemed to enjoy their encounters, to a point. “A lot of times he looks frustrated or upset, then he’ll kiss me on the cheek or nose or forehead and tell me he has to go home.”

Allie forced herself not to laugh. “Now about the other night, when you said he kicked you out… did he seem to be in pain?”

“Well, yeah. When I got there, he was trying to get an ice pack to stay on his knee on this lump of pillows. I fixed it so he could rest more comfortably, wrapped the ice in a towel so it would stay on his knee, and got him a sandwich to eat, because he’s always starving after the game.”

“Okay, then what happened?”

“We ate. He was grumpy the whole time. When I asked him if he’d be okay, he said he was fine. I may have commented on him not being fine and his bad attitude and that’s when he said he didn’t need or want me there and ordered me to go home.”

“And you did?”

“Of course. I’m not going to stay where I’m not welcome or wanted,” Haven said, indignantly.

“Have you talked to him since Saturday?” Allie knew Haven and Brody often talked or texted several times a day.

“No. He made no effort to contact me until yesterday afternoon and then he got quite persistent about it. He sent me texts, voice messages, came over, and even called the office and left messages.”

Allie heard a mixture of anger, hurt, and fear in Haven’s voice. “So why don’t you talk to him?”

“Because he needs to know he can’t treat me like I don’t matter and then expect me to fall all over myself when he decides he wants to talk. That’s not how things work.” Haven slapped her hand down on the pillow she still held. She took a calming breath then looked at Allie. “Is it?”

“No, it isn’t how it works.” Allie swallowed down a grin. “So let’s go over that list of concerns. First, I’d say you are probably a good kisser. From what I’ve seen of Brody, you’d have to be excellent to keep him coming back for more. Second, you are correct that you are totally clueless when it comes to men. I’d have to guess that Brody enjoys your affectionate attentions so much, he’s probably struggling to keep from dragging you into the bedroom like some chest-banging caveman and ravishing you.”

Haven’s mouth dropped open and her eyes looked like saucers at Allie’s statement. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

“No. Not so much. He must be an honorable kind of guy to leave when he does. It’s not a bad thing, Haven. Brody cutting things off and going home is a good thing. Especially with you being so naïve. Seriously, though. How do you not have a clue?”

BOOK: Love at the 20-Yard Line
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