The Safe Bet (The Game Changers #3) (13 page)

I spent a week at my father’s home before I finally asked to meet my brother. Jordan was his name, and he was three years older than me. In the time I was there, I had wanted to call Brock no less than a million times. He had once been my best friend and confidant, but every time I picked up the phone I saw Candace walking out of his apartment, the one above the place I once shared with Ivy. The thought reminded me of the way Neal blamed me for her death. By the time I thought of Ivy lying in that mahogany casket, the numb feeling had crept back in and completely taken over again. The cycle was predictable, and I was teetering on the edge of insanity.

For the first few days, I drove around the town to distract myself. There was a cool deli in the downtown area that I liked. I would sit in their booths and read in the afternoons while I tasted their menu. For them my taste buds returned, but either Clara was the blandest cook in the world or the discomfort I felt around my father would cause my senses to disappear again.

The “family” dinner was scheduled for a Sunday. My father spent the day working in the yard. Clara ran errands, and I holed up in the guestroom and read a book. I was trying to keep my nerves under control without starting the whole Brock-then-Ivy-then-blackout cycle. It wasn’t working.

The truth was I missed Brock. I missed talking to him. I missed him holding me. I missed everything about him. He was supposed to be the one to make me feel better, but thinking of him only made things worse. I knew he had called. I knew he stopped by. My mother sent him away each time. Finally she stopped answering the phone when she saw he called because she knew what my answer would be. I couldn’t allow myself to fall back in that trap, no matter how much I wanted his comfort. Now, I was far enough away that he wouldn’t show up. I was hoping this would be the beginning of a fresh start.

I heard the front door open and close. A deep voice called out, “Mom? Dad?” I cringed knowing someone else was calling him dad. My stomach rolled, and a newfound hate for my father gutted me. How could he keep this from me for so long?

I didn’t have time to lose it, though. I had to put my big girl panties on and meet my brother. It wasn’t his fault our parents sucked. He was just an innocent bystander. Or was he? Did he know about me? Was he the reason we never met? Did he not want to meet me?

These thoughts had me flipping out all over again. What if he was the reason my dad never came around anymore? The questions churned in my head as I dressed. This was worse than going on a blind date—not that I really knew about that, but I could imagine. At least on a blind date, there’s the chance you would never have to see each other again, and it wouldn’t matter. If I never saw my brother again after this meeting, it would be almost as disappointing as missing the first twenty years. Maybe it would be more disappointing. I wasn’t sure. Right then, I wasn’t sure about anything.

From the pictures, I had an inkling of what to expect, but seeing him in person was different. He was taller than my dad but looked similar to him. His behavior wasn’t far off, though. Jordan barely acknowledged me before sitting down and shoveling food on his plate. His mother frowned at his manners but said nothing. My father didn’t notice from what I could tell. He was too busy staring down, pushing his peas around with his fork.

Clara tried to carry the conversation for all of us. She told me all about Jordan’s many accomplishments like a good mother would. He rolled his eyes and shook his head at one point, but never contributed. I ooh’d and ahh’d to the best of my ability, which really meant I nodded my head and pretended my mouth was full.

Suddenly my father threw down his fork, making us all jump when it clanged loudly against his plate. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He darted from the table, knocking his chair over in the process.

The three of us sat there stunned for a moment before Jordan shrugged and went back to eating. Clara sighed and massaged her temples. “Reagan,” she finally said. “I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to leave. You being here is too much. I wish things could be different, but your father is under a lot of stress right now. He can’t handle anything else on his plate.”

I couldn’t even fault her for kicking me out. I wasn’t her priority. It never mattered how she felt about me because she would never know me. I represented my father’s lies and betrayal of my family for her, nothing more. I would have hated me as well.

I quietly stood and collected what was left of my dinner, which I left in the sink before heading to the guest room to pack. I never really unpacked, so it didn’t take long. My father had left, and Clara disappeared into her bedroom. I didn’t know where Jordan went, but I was leaving the house as if I had been there alone the entire time.

With my bag in hand, I left the way I came in, through the front door. I was surprised to find Jordan sitting on the front step waiting for me. “I know you don’t know me, but I figured you’d need a place to stay. It would be nice to actually have a conversation with my sister.”

I let out a short, uncomfortable laugh. “Sister…”

“Yeah, it felt weird coming out of my mouth too.”

I thought for a moment. It would be nice to get to know him, even if it was only for one night. “You wouldn’t mind if I stayed with you? I’ll leave in the morning.”

He shrugged. “You don’t have to. My apartment has two bedrooms.”

And so it began…

Chapter Nineteen

October 2003

The first time I held Meyer was two days after she was born. For an entire two days, I paced the lobby of the maternity wing and napped on a hard sofa when I couldn’t stay awake any longer. I was waiting to meet my niece.

It had only been a few months, but Jordan felt like he belonged in my world. We got along like a brother and sister who had grown up together, except for one glaring difference—we knew almost nothing about each other. It was fun getting to know him, but hearing what it was like growing up with my father wasn’t always easy. The man he called Dad was leaps and bounds away from the man I once knew, but talking to Jordan was like a kind of therapy I never knew existed…much like Jordan, the brother I never knew existed.

So, when Jordan found out he was having a kid with a woman who didn’t want children, it only made sense that I stick around to be an aunt. No one could have predicted how holding her would make me feel, though.

Her mother signed over her rights as soon as the nurse would let her. She checked out not five minutes after the doctor signed her release. She was lost in the wind, but Jordan didn’t mind. Meyer was his from the moment she took her first breath. He also had me there to help him. The second the squishy little bundle was passed into my arms, I knew she was one of us. She was pink and wrinkly and oh so tiny. Who knew I could love someone so much?

I fully blame her little adorable self for what happened next.

Feeling the love, my guard was completely down. I had no defenses with all the rainbows and sunshine floating through the new-baby air. I wasn’t even annoyed when my father and Clara showed up at the hospital. I smiled up at him as he gazed down at the sleeping baby in my arms. I imagined it was very much how he looked at me when I was born, how he might look at my daughter if I ever had one. It felt like a breakthrough moment for us.

The five of us welcomed her home like the odd family unit we had become that day. We tiptoed around each other as she slept and cooed like crazy people when she opened her eyes. My dad and Clara came back every day for the next two weeks, and our world revolved around the little angel that stole our hearts.

It was on the tenth day that I tried to speak with my father. I asked him, “Was this what it was like when I was born?”

He leaned his head back and smiled. “No, Reagan, you weren’t a quiet baby. You wanted to see everything from the moment you arrived. The only time you would sleep was if I was holding you. Your mother couldn’t get you to rest no matter what she did.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Even as a toddler, you always wanted me.”

Some things never change, I thought unkindly, but ignored it in favor of listening to him tell me more about when I was younger.

“We would go to the zoo, and you refused to stay in your stroller. Finally I started telling your mother not to bother with it, and I carried you on my shoulders everywhere.”

I wanted to ask what happened. Why did he leave? But, I knew it would kill the moment. It didn’t matter. Jordan walked in the room, and my father’s whole attitude quickly changed.

“Jordan was the opposite. I wasn’t there when he was born. He didn’t need me…still doesn’t.” He paused, and I kept my eyes on him as he watched Jordan across the room. “In a way I needed him, though.”

Was he…no, he couldn’t be trying to say…no…surely not.

“It was a challenge to get him to accept me. At first he paid no attention to the man in his house. He refused to call me Daddy. To be honest, he would hardly speak to me. I tried buying him gifts, taking him to every place that was recommended for kids, but nothing worked. Then I bought a computer. I planned to work from home, but Jordan was fascinated by it. We bonded over Pong.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. “You left because I was too needy?” I asked incredulously.

“It wasn’t the only reason. I also wanted time with my son. And I loved his mother. I cared about your mother, but she wasn’t Clara. And you weren’t Jordan.”

Okay, that hurts. I didn’t know what to say after that. He was basically confirming what I believed my whole life. I wasn’t good enough for him. If I had been different, he would have stayed. Then something else occurred to me.

“Why didn’t you introduce us sooner?”

“Who? You and Jordan?” I nodded. “Because it was two different lives for me. One where I crumbled under the weight of expectations and the other where I worked hard to be a part of it.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it,” I whispered.

He turned to me, surprised by my serious tone. The puppies and flowers atmosphere could compromise my defenses but not my bullshit meter. It was still working just fine.

“Why, Dad?”

I watched as he deflated under the weight of the truth. “Because I didn’t want you to meet. I was happy here, and I didn’t want you to ruin it.”

“What did you expect? That I’d never find out?” I was still speaking quietly, but my tone had gone from stern to downright angry.

“Pretty much. I hoped you’d stop needing me eventually. You had your mom, and she was a better parent than I could ever be.”

“Do you know how selfish you sound?”

“I won’t apologize for a decision I made a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. Look how close you and Jordan have become.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Reagan, stop acting like a petulant child. You never needed me. You only thought you did. Me leaving made you into a stronger person.”

I stood, and this time I didn’t whisper. I wanted him to hear me loud and clear. “This is literally the dumbest conversation I have ever had. You can tell yourself whatever you want, but you are the most self-absorbed, idiotic person on the planet if you think leaving me was the best thing for me. You choose to be the giant disappointment that you are. Don’t make excuses when there aren’t any to justify your behavior.”

“Reagan, calm down. Don’t be so dramatic,” he scolded as quietly as he could.

“No, Dad,” Jordan interjected. “She’s right.”

“Jordan, don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. You’ll understand now that you have a daughter.”

“No, I won’t, because I could never leave my daughter the way you left Reagan.”

My father turned and headed to the door. “You’re more like me than you think, son. Come on, Clara. We’re leaving.” Jordan simply shook his head and turned back to his baby girl, who was cooing in his arms as our father left.

I watched Jordan for only a second before it fully sunk in that he was truly nothing like our father. In a moment of pure class, I ran out of the apartment and down the stairs where my father was just getting to his car. “Hey Dad,” I shouted. When his eyes were on me, I threw up both of my middle fingers and yelled, “Fuck off!”

Chapter Twenty

Now

Brock and I continued to lie in his bed and talk for the rest of the morning. It was like he opened up the floodgates and out poured years of misspent time. I told him more about Jordan and Meyer, and he expressed how happy he was that meeting Jordan was the thing to bring me out of my funk. We talked about Neal, who moved away and married a “nice girl.” I still couldn’t believe Neal was a large part of the reason the charges against me were dropped. I had always wondered about the charges suddenly going away but never asked my mom. She had been through enough with me.

“I always thought Neal hated me,” I confessed.

“Nah, he hated the way we were together, or not together, depending on how you looked at it.”

“Huh.”

“He may have been a little jealous. He had a crush on Ivy since she came to our school in seventh. Did I ever tell you how he and I became friends?”

“You got in a fight or something in the gym?”

Brock laughed. “Yeah…over Ivy. He wanted her, and she always flirted with me.”

“Did she?”

“Oh yeah. Remember, that was the year we had sex ed with Coach Temple. He taught us all about the birds and the bees. She offered to show me what it was all about right in front of Neal.”

“What? In seventh grade?”

“Uhh…yeah. She started early.”

“No. Her first was David Chandler in tenth grade.”

“No. Her first was David Chandler in seventh grade at Mikey Washington’s pool party. Neal was so jealous.”

“Huh. Who knew? I used to ignore Neal because he was such a jerk to everyone. I never understood why you guys were friends, but I figured it was a guy thing.”

“It was. Keep your enemies close. He was actually a cool guy once I spent time with him. But he really cared about Ivy once he took the time to really know her. He wanted to save her.”

“I know.” This time the mood changed at the mention of Ivy. A solemn vibe settled over the conversation, and I searched my brain for something to bring back the light mood we had been in moments ago.

“I really hated Candace Wood.” Yes, that was the first thing that popped into my mind.

“I’m aware,” he answered dryly. “I think everyone knew you hated her.”

“Really? I thought I did a pretty good job hiding it.”

“Uhh…no. Every time she walked in a room, you walked out. I’m pretty sure she flirted with me just to piss you off.”

And all of the sudden I was annoyed as if it was still going on. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. She used to show up at my apartment all the time and ask if you were there. Then she’d want to study. I’m pretty sure she stalked me to get into my classes just to bug you.”

“What the hell?” Then I remembered the day after the accident. Coming home to the apartment only to find her there. “The day after the accident—she was at your place.”

“Was she?”

“Yes.” I could see the image of her with wet hair carrying her shoes as if it was yesterday. “She was leaving and looked like she had just showered. You followed her out.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was doped up on pain pills and only there to get my stuff before my mom took me home.”

“And you didn’t say goodbye?”

“We didn’t stay. I couldn’t go in that place. Not after everything. And besides, like I said before, I felt like if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with my feelings for you, I would have been able to prevent the accident. Even that day, I was torn up about Ivy, but you were still the first thing on my mind. The way I felt about you…it wasn’t healthy.”

“Reagan.” He sighed and dropped his head back.

“I swore to myself that I’d never let anyone consume me like you did, so I stayed away. After the first year, it became easier to pretend you didn’t exist. Then there was a point where pretending you didn’t exist turned into a fear of seeing you again. I was afraid that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to resist. After all that time, what would have been the point?”

And there it was. The truth of all truths.

***

The conversation died after my last confession. Brock continued to hold me, but he seemed contemplative, and I had nothing left to say. His hold no longer seemed safe and comforting. I needed his words, his reassurance for that, but he gave me nothing.

Finally, I made my excuses and left. I needed to shower and change my clothes before getting to the store to open, late as it was. Damien and Kira would be stopping by, and I never liked to miss a book talk with them…even if my mind wasn’t in it.

Like always, our book talk ran way over, and I found myself relaxing with each passing minute. These two were drama free. I didn’t even realize it was closing time until Brock showed up. “Who is that?” Kira sang as she eyed Brock in his work clothes. I had to admit, he looked good dressed like that, but of course I had to wonder why he’d show up after the way we left things. My nerves, which had just calmed, jumped back into their hyped-up state at the very sight of him.

“He’s a friend from high school.” We may have gotten personal with our reading choices, but that didn’t mean they needed to know all of my business.

“Mmhmm,” Damien teased.

“No. Not like that at all,” I warned him, even though it was exactly like what he was implying.

“What’s wrong with that? I think rekindling with a high school sweetheart sounds romantic,” Kira cooed.

“This little Rea of sunshine doesn’t like that term,” Brock explained as he approached, obviously overhearing our conversation. Great. Just what I needed. “She thinks high school sweethearts are lame and doomed to fail.”

“Is that true, Reagan?” Kira now looked genuinely concerned for me and Brock if that was the case.

“No. Not anymore. You and Damien are going to live a long and happy life together.”

Kira looked relieved at my assessment and gave Damien a blinding smile. He returned her look of adoration with equal fervor, while I glared at Brock with enough disdain to make him laugh. They left on their little cloud of bliss, so I turned my back to Brock to ignore him and his sexy grin.

He loved throwing me under the bus, and I hated him for it right up until he wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “I’m sorry for this morning.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I told him, even though I had desperately needed him to acknowledge the awkward tension that had developed between us.

“I do. I asked you to tell me the truth but shut down when you told it to me. It’s hard to think that all of this could have been avoided had I simply known what was going on. I would have pushed the girl away had I realized, but I thought you knew how I felt about you. I thought you knew you were the only girl in the world for me.”

My breath was stuck in my throat. These were the words I had needed to hear back then. I couldn’t have ever imagined feeling like this once he finally said them, though. My heart had never felt such a sense of fulfillment. It was like getting everything I never knew I wanted all in one breath.

“I don’t know what she was doing at my apartment, but I spent the whole night calling you. Neal said something happened to Ivy. I never imagined you were involved. You know I would have been there. I was furious with Neal for not telling me.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“I have no idea, but I suspect it had something to do with Candace. You’d have to ask him.”

“Not going to happen.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that I still feel about you now the way I did back then. You’re it for me, and I don’t want to make the mistake of leaving you wondering ever again.”

“Oh?” I replied dumbly.

“Yeah, oh,” he whispered just before his lips took mine. My body immediately molded to his in the familiar way that only two people who belonged together could. His hands dove in my hair and tugged to angle my head for a deeper kiss, and I didn’t refuse. A girl could get used to that kind of enthusiasm.

When he broke the kiss, he kept his forehead resting on mine. “How about I take you to dinner, then back to my place?”

“More talking?” I was sure my disappointment rang loud and clear in the tone of my voice. I was still breathing heavily. The last thing I wanted to do right then was talk.

“Not if I can help it.” That simple statement held more promise than everything else we’d said in the past twenty-four hours combined. And I craved the intention behind that promise more than I could describe. Ten years, people! It had been a decade since I had been with him.

We didn’t make it to dinner. We hardly made it to the car. Heat poured from our eyes. Desire was evident in every touch. This was going to be a night to remember.

He opened the door for me, but his muscular body quickly trapped me against the car as his lips descended on mine. Our lips opened, allowing the spark that was brewing beneath to fully light. We were in for an explosion of epic proportions if this continued. One of us was going to have to slow things down. Then his hands lowered and gripped my rear like he was holding on for dear life, and I knew, I just knew there was no slowing this train down.

He ripped his lips from mine, breathing heavily, and he gently nudged me into the car. I fell against the seat and tried to get control over my own breathing. He ran around to the driver’s side, and the next thing I knew we were speeding toward his house on the longest journey ever. Yes, the speedometer said we were over the legal limit, but I was seconds away from getting what my body so desperately desired.

Then we arrived. Things happened quickly. Before I could climb out of the car, I was in Brock’s arms. He was carrying me into his house, taking me straight to his bed. His body was hovering over mine, and his lips descended upon my neck before I could even considering slowing us down.

Every touch of his lips, every sweep of his tongue, the caress of his fingers, I could feel in my core. Never had I been able to live in the moment like this, but he consumed me. I could think of nothing but him.

“I promise we’ll slow down, but not right now,” he growled as he ripped my top from my body and started on my pants.

“No, not right now.” I sounded like I was begging, but I didn’t care. If anything it only encouraged him more. His clothes were quickly tossed to the side before he was back on me again. Feeling him against me with nothing between us was every fantasy I didn’t know I still had.

It wasn’t long, or maybe it was. Time was indeterminable then. It only felt like seconds had passed before the spark ignited the fuse. The fuse connected to the bomb, and my body exploded right along with him.

We lay there in silence, gripping each other as we caught our breath. “I thought I would never forget what that felt like, but my memories have nothing on the real thing.”

“No…I definitely don’t remember it being like that.”

“You okay? I didn’t break you, did I?”

“I don’t know yet. I can’t move.”

“That’s okay. I’m good with staying like this forever.”

And that’s what we did. Well, we stayed like that until the next morning when my bladder had other ideas. I had to peel myself off of him to sneak out of bed without waking him. Fortunately, I knew he was a heavy sleeper. Some things never change.

After I did my business and found a spare toothbrush in his bathroom, I threw on his shirt and decided to check out the contents of his kitchen. I was starving since we skipped dinner. Eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. All excellent choices. I had just poured the pancakes when he came up behind me.

“I could get used to this.”

“Which part? Me cooking in your kitchen wearing only your shirt or having someone else make you breakfast?”

“You. This is one hundred percent about you.”

I turned the stove off and turned in his arms to hug him, but before my lips could reach his, a knock sounded at the front door.

Brock frowned down at me. “You expecting someone?”

“Uh. No. I don’t live here, remember?”

“Too bad. We should change that.”

“Stop it.” I wasn’t sure if he was joking. But one should know not to tease a potentially homeless girl with a newly-sparked libido. It was dangerous territory.

The knock interrupted again, so Brock finally pulled away to answer it while I plated our breakfast. The second I heard the voice I froze. Yes, I was holding a pancake. No, I didn’t realize it at the time.

“Hey baby!” A woman’s voice squealed.

That was bad enough, but when I heard Brock say, “Hailey?” like he recognized her, I had to go see who was at the door.

It was a sight to make me wish I hadn’t though. Déjà vu washed over me, but it wasn’t Candace Wood this time. There, hanging on Brock like a baby monkey, was a blonde model with legs as long as the Amazon and a face that I was sure had been on the cover of magazines. Brock held her up with his hands under her tanned thighs, which had my blood boiling considering I knew exactly where those hands had been all night. When he saw me standing there, he quickly dropped his grip on her. She took the hint, unwrapping her legs from his waist, but she kept one arm resting on his shoulder.