The Safe Bet (The Game Changers #3) (9 page)

I didn’t know what to do, but getting away from Neal was necessary. “I’m going to look for her,” I told them. “You two stay here in case she shows back up.”

Brock stopped me at the door. “You okay, Rea?” He was always asking me that.

“Yeah, I’m good. Don’t let him break anything.”

Brock dropped a kiss on my lips and whispered “Be careful,” like he knew where I was headed.

Neal groaned. “Can you guys do that some other time when Ivy isn’t missing?”

With one last glance at Brock’s worried face, I raced to my car and drove to the other side of town. I wasn’t exactly sure where the bar was, but I was familiar enough with the area to know where it could be. I found it with little trouble when I saw a red neon sign that simply read:
‘Bar’
.

The gigantic bouncer eyed me strangely then said, “You here for the girl?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

He returned my nod, then held the door open for me. The place was smoky and reeked of sweat and beer. It was an unpleasant combination, and I couldn’t figure out why Ivy would come here. Needless to say, she wasn’t hard to pick out. She was dancing on the stage to some country song that did not match the rhythm of her dancing.

“Reagan!” she cheered, then jumped off the stage to tackle me in a hug. “My girl is here, everybody!”

I looked around the room at all the drunken bikers slumped over their beers. It was definitely time to leave. “Okay, let’s go, Ivy. Neal’s been looking for you.”

“Boo! I don’t want to go back to him. He’s no fun.” It was then I saw how unfocused her dilated eyes were. She wasn’t just drunk. She was on something.

“Sure he is. Now, let’s get your stuff.”

“No!” In a ninja-like move she grabbed my keys and bolted out the door. I was forced to chase her, and I reached my car just as she climbed in the driver’s seat of my mom’s old Camry. I didn’t think. I just climbed in the passenger seat and immediately tried to talk her out of driving.

She didn’t listen. She started the car and whipped out of the parking lot. “You know what it’s like, Reagan?”

“What what’s like?”

“Flying,” she said as she whipped around a curve, making me buckle my seatbelt and hold on to the oh-shit handle.

“No. Why don’t you pull over, and I’ll drive?”

She ignored me. “We’re all going to die eventually. We came into the world alone, and we leave it alone. The people we love only leave us, so what’s the point?” She spoke with remarkable clarity for someone higher than a 747 over the Pacific.

“I don’t know, I…Please pull over,” I begged again.

“You love Brock. He loves you, but you torture each other.”

“Neal loves you.”

“No. Neal thinks he loves me. He wants to rescue me. Silly boy.” She sped up, and I knew we weren’t going to make it through this ride. The only reason we were still on the road was because no one else was. I tried to sneak my phone out of my purse to call Brock or nine-one-one. I wasn’t sure which, but the second she saw it, she flipped out.

“Who are you calling?” she snapped angrily.

“No one,” I promised.

The rest of the ride was silent except for the screaming in my head. I remained white-knuckled as I gripped the oh-shit handle with one hand and held my seatbelt tight with the other. I knew that tonight was the night I would confess everything to Brock if I could just make it back to him safely.

Somehow we survived the drive back to the apartment. How she knew where we were I would never know. I didn’t even know where we were most of the ride, let alone how she stayed on the road.

As soon as she was sort of parked, she leapt out of the car, leaving it running and the driver’s side door wide open. “What a rush!” she squealed as she leapt into Neal’s arms right when he and Brock made it to the bottom of the stairs.

I was moving much, much slower, trying to calm my racing heart and keep myself from falling apart. An adrenaline rush was one thing. Riding in the car with a drunk and most likely high Ivy was not a “rush” like she thought. It was a brush with death and definitely not something I wanted to experience again.

Brock’s face mirrored how I was feeling. His stride was stiff and quick as he passed Neal and approached me as I rounded the car. “She drove?” he asked when he reached me.

I still couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded as I tried to pass him to straighten my car into an actual parking space.

He pulled me back against him. “I got this. You go inside.” I shook my head against his chest, and he seemed to understand how I was feeling. “It’ll be okay.” I gripped his shirt in my hands, willing myself not to cry. I hated criers, and even worse, I hated crying. Brock held me tighter and whispered, “Shh. I got you. You’re safe. She’s safe. I’m right here.”

Once my heart returned to a normal pace, I felt utterly exhausted, but I didn’t want to go inside without Brock. I didn’t want to see Ivy if she was still on her rampage, and I didn’t want to deal with her if she wasn’t. I just wanted to go to sleep in Brock’s arms and forget the whole night. It seemed Brock felt the same, because we bypassed my apartment and headed straight for his. We climbed into bed fully dressed and wrapped around each other, where we remained until the darkness was gone, and the morning light had replaced it.

Chapter Thirteen

Now

I hadn’t had that flashback in a long time. I thought I had forgotten what it was like in the car that night, but the dream was as vivid as the when it happened. Before I could calm my racing heart, the bile started to rise. I raced to the toilet to expel everything inside my stomach, then I sank to the floor and sobbed. I knew what was coming. The next one would be worse. The memories would take over, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it when the images returned unchecked in my dreams. There was only one person who could have triggered the memories. I had pushed him away; I had pushed everyone away. Now that he had discovered my hidden cloud in the sky, he had become the one person I couldn’t wait to see, and for that I knew I would pay emotionally. The only thing I wasn’t sure of was if the trade was worth it. He was the one person who had the potential to break me.

It was a long while before I could pull myself together, and I was late opening the store. I missed Restaurant Guy stripping in the parking lot and the morning ladies walking their dogs on their coffee run. Sandra Hillman was waiting outside the store for me when I arrived. She was there to pick up the next novel in her series that released that day, and I rushed to let her in the door before she started ordering her own books online.

“Sorry to point out the obvious, dear, but you look like hell. The only thing worth losing sleep over is a good man, so please tell me it’s a man that’s making you so tired.”

“No, ma’am. No man. Just a bad night.”

“Oh honey, you have to find yourself a nice man. You know, my grandson is coming to visit next week. I can set you up if you’d like. He’s a good-looking man, but I couldn’t tell you about his bedroom skills. If it’s anything like his dancing, you’re better off looking elsewhere. Sweet boy, though.”

“All right then, Mrs. Hillman. Thanks for the offer, but I’m okay.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll drop some pointers before he takes you out.” I could only imagine.

“I’m sure he’d find that very helpful.”

I finished ringing her up with no more talk of her grandson and sent her on her way. Thankfully, the weather was nice, so a lot of people were out exploring the boardwalk. It was the end of the season, so it was mainly the locals who had retired here, but they kept me busy. Old people were so opinionated and liked sharing their thoughts with anyone who would listen. I always found them interesting, especially when I was in desperate need of a distraction.

Somehow the day passed quickly. Meyer had come and gone. The customers stopped trickling in, and before I knew it, it was time to close. A handsome face appeared in the window just as I went to lock the door. His smile when he saw me was unforgettable. It stopped me in my tracks until he approached me the rest of the way.

He pulled the door open and strode to me so fluidly, like he was floating or skating. The second he was close enough, he took my face between his big hands and pressed his lips to mine. Without thinking, I surrendered to his kiss. In one single moment, all the fear, regret, and hate gave way to desire. He was still the only one I wanted like this. Never had any man made me feel so desired and so needy. Usually I was making grocery lists or thinking about the store when I kissed someone. Not with Brock. Not ever. I couldn’t remember what they sold at a grocery store, let alone make a list when he took control of my lips.

He pulled away first, but my lips followed his like they had a mind of their own. When I opened my eyes, he was grinning down at me. “I thought about that all day,” he whispered.

“Did you now?”

“Seems you didn’t mind.”

“Kissing you was never the problem.”

“No. Kissing wasn’t the problem.” His hands drifted from my face to my neck then across my exposed clavicle. “Touching was never the problem.”

“Mmm.” I audibly hummed when his lips touched my neck. I had always fallen stupid when he worked his magic on me. “I don’t remember what the problem was right now,” I told him sounding breathy and a little desperate. Don’t judge. It had been a long time, okay?

Just as his lips grazed my ear, he said, “Talking was the problem, so let’s do some of that before we get too distracted by this.” He pulled away, then added, “I don’t want you to have another reason to disappear on me.”

I frowned, remembering my dream the night before and the reasons why we were in this predicament. He was right, though. This is what we always did before. Wasn’t that the very definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result? It was time to make the mature decision and stop running from the truth.

“Let’s do this. What did you have in mind?”

“If Jordan and Meyer wouldn’t miss you this evening, I’d like you to join me for dinner at my house.”

“I don’t know how they’d feel about it—you’d have to ask them—but I will be happy to join you for dinner if you promise to keep your hands to yourself. I don’t know how much talking we’ll do if we open that can of worms.”

“I can behave if you can. If I remember correctly, your hands tend to wander as much as mine.”

He remembered correctly, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right. Instead, I stepped away. “Let me close the store, then I’m all yours.”

“Music to my ears, Rea.”

I cashed out the register and prepared the deposit, then left some notes for tomorrow. Brock watched me as I tidied up and did my usual routine, trying not to delay or rush. I didn’t want him to think I didn’t want to talk, even though I would rather do almost anything other than have a conversation about the past. At the same time I didn’t want to rush and make him think I was hopeful for more. Hope was long gone and had been for a while.

“Ready?” he asked once I had my purse and cardigan in hand.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Brock held the door for me, then held my purse as I locked the door. What a gentleman.

“What are you feeding me? I was late for work and forgot to eat lunch.”

“You forgot to eat?”

“Shut up. My friend Melanie usually brings me lunch a couple times a week, but I didn’t get a chance to call her back.”

“Seriously, you too busy to eat?”

“Oh, stop!”

“How do steak and potatoes sound?”

“You eat carbs?” I asked mimicking his tone.

He wrapped one of his big arms around my shoulders and hugged me to his chest, allowing me to confirm it was as rock-hard as suspected. “Very funny, little one.”

I followed him to his house, which appeared to be a one-story bungalow from the front, but I had a feeling there was more than met the eye considering its location. I wasn’t wrong either. On the opposite side of the house were floor to ceiling windows overlooking the river that ran parallel to the ocean. The sun was preparing to set and the whole scene was breathtaking.

“Like what you see?” Brock asked from behind me. I could feel him but our bodies weren’t actually touching. My body was still attuned to his.

“It’s amazing.”

I remained standing right inside the door until he took my hand and guided me to the other side of the scarcely-furnished living room. “Yeah, the house needs some work, but that view was worth it.” Brock led the way to a deck that I now noticed was on the second floor of the house. There must have been a basement beneath my feet that couldn’t be seen from the front side. “Have a seat. I’ll get some drinks and fire up the grill.”

When he stepped back through the glass door, he was waving a bottle of champagne and carrying two glasses in his other hand. I immediately recognized the bottle. “Dom.” He grinned. “I remember getting ignored a time or two for expensive champagne. I figure we could enjoy this and each other tonight.”

I snorted at the implication that we would be doing anything beyond having mundane conversation and eating whatever he came up with. There were two things I knew about myself. The first was that I could eat almost anything. The other thing was the second this conversation became too serious or too personal, I would shut down. I was almost looking forward to that moment when I wouldn’t have to worry about the next question or uncomfortable nugget that would come out of his mouth.

While he poured us champagne in actual flutes that were nicer than any single man should have, I told him briefly about my encounter with Sandra Hillman.

“She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.”

“I’m sure she does. The woman has had more pool boys, gardeners, and handymen than the entire city of Los Angeles combined. Of course that’s just a rumor, but the woman is nearing eighty and still oozes sex appeal.”

He laughed. “That’s an odd thing to say.”

“It’s an odd thing to see,” I replied seriously.

Dinner was amazing. He served the steak and potatoes restaurant style and paired it with a red wine even though I could have guessed he was still a beer drinker. I wouldn’t have any idea when he learned to cook. I would have missed all his failed attempts at grilling, but I reaped the benefits of his practice. Needless to say, the man could cook, and the whole evening was the very epitome of romance…unfortunately.

We talked for a bit about him buying his home, then fell into a comfortable silence. Later we moved inside, and he started a fire and poured more champagne. The silence stretched, but neither of us tried to fill it. Yes, we were supposed to be talking, but it felt good to just be. Not to mention I was so tired from not sleeping the night before. The wine probably wasn’t in my best interest either. I hadn’t realized I was falling asleep until I felt the couch fall from beneath me.

“Shh,” Brock whispered. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.” The words were familiar, and I felt safe for the moment, safe enough to fall asleep again.

Later, when my brain started to wake, it was light out again. I registered the comfort and warmth of my bed—but it couldn’t have been my bed. It didn’t smell like my bed. It was harder than my bed, and what was the weight holding me down?

My eyes flew open as I remembered where I was. A groan coming from behind me had me freezing, especially when Brock pressed his hardness against my rear. As much as I wanted to respond, I remained still while trying to determine what the best course of action was. Did I try to sneak out of the bed and bolt? Or did I stay and have the conversation with him that we were supposed to have last night? Only one thing was certain, I hadn’t slept that well in years.

“You’re thinking too loudly. I can hear you over here.” The humor in his voice made the panic in my head dissipate immediately.

I laughed. “I never expected to be in this position again.”

He pulled me tighter against him. “Me neither, but I wished for it.” The panic quickly returned.

I shifted to roll over, and he opened his arms to let me but pulled me close as soon as I settled. The butterflies erupted in my belly and settled quickly into contentment. I both loved and hated the feeling. I hated myself a little more for what I said next.

“You did?”

He grinned, making his sleepy face light up. “Yeah, Rea. I dreamt about it. Wished for it. Prayed for it. Hoped for it. Needed it. Longed for it. For you. When you left, I—” He paused and rolled onto his back, tucking his arm behind his head to stare at the ceiling. “Until I met Jordan, I thought about it all the time, why you left. I never could piece it all together. I knew it had to do with the accident, but I couldn’t figure out why you left me. Your mom said you couldn’t see me when everything was going on, so I waited. I waited and waited for you to come back. A year later, you still hadn’t returned. Everyone had told me to give up on you, but I couldn’t.”

“What does that mean, Brock?”

He rolled back onto his side to face me, then gently swept a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “It means I never gave up. Not on you. Not on us. There was always supposed to be an us. You were always mine even if you wouldn’t admit it when we were kids. As long as you’ve been fighting us, I’ve been loving you.”

It was my turn to fall onto my back. His words sounded nice enough. Part of me had been waiting forever to hear him profess his love for me, but the memories that were suddenly present in my brain reminded me that not all was as it seemed. I had stopped trusting Brock long ago, and I wasn’t sure that was something I could overcome.

I really needed to go home.