Undisputed (14 page)

I do as I’ve been told. “I was just in the area and thought I would stop by and see if Connor wanted to play some Xbox.” I don’t mention the fight that sent me in this direction or the fact that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.

I do make a mental note to buy Tripp a bottle of Patron later though. If he hadn’t pissed me off, I would have missed seeing Sidney’s performance.

“What were you listening to?” I ask, surprising even myself by being genuinely interested in her response. I didn’t recognize the lyrics she was singing, but there was one line that caught my attention, and I’m curious to know the song.

Her cheeks pink before she replies, “’Hurt’ by Johnny Cash. Anyway, how long were you standing there?”

Johnny Cash? Who is this woman? I figured that it had to be something straight off the pop charts.

I grin and playfully nudge her arm. “Long enough to know that you can’t carry a tune for shit.” I don’t want her to be embarrassed. Even though she sounded like a dying cat, I liked seeing her lost in the song.

While she was belting the lyrics out, the emotion on her face was beautiful. I’ve never taken an interest in a woman before, and I can’t figure out what it is about her that has me so intrigued. Deciding to worry about that later, I push the thought to the back of my mind.

“You don’t look like a Cash fan,” I say, taking a step toward her.

“Yeah, well, neither do you.” She shrugs, thankfully not backing away.

Thoroughly enjoying our banter, I smirk. “Oh yeah? What
do
I look like, then?” I toss her a smile that’s guaranteed to melt her panties, but unfortunately, she seems completely immune.

“Hmmm.” She taps her finger to her mouth.

Unable to stop myself, I cup her jaw, grazing her bottom lip with my thumb.

Her mouth parts in surprise, and she lets out a quick breath before saying quietly, “Hip hop.”

Confused, I still my hand but remain focused on her lips. “What?”

“You…um…you look like you listen to hip hop—maybe at a club,” she explains nervously.

Before I can respond—or do something equally as stupid as replace my thumb with my mouth—Connor carries a notebook into the room.

He pauses in the doorway, swinging his head back and forth between us. “Uh, Aunt Sid?”

Stepping out of my reach, she tears her gaze away from me. “Yeah, honey? You feeling okay?”

He grins. “Yeah. I’m fine. But, uh, your cookies aren’t.” He still has a knowing smile on his face as he flicks his gaze to the oven.

“Shit!” she shouts before grabbing an oven mitt and yanking open the oven door. Smoke rolls out as she pulls out a tray of cookies that could be used as hockey pucks. “Dammit. I was looking forward to those,” she grumbles, shaking them into the trash and then throwing the tray into the sink. Huffing, she waves her hands at us, shooing us out of the kitchen. “You came to play Xbox with Connor, so go. Let me finish burning this batch of cookies.”

I keep my eyes locked on Sidney while Connor drags me from the kitchen.

When she disappears from my sight, I glance at Connor and rub my hands together. “All right, man. You ready to get your ass kicked in Madden again?” I settle on the couch next to the kid, but my mind is still in the kitchen with his aunt.

I’m confused by the attraction I have to her. Why? I have no idea. But I still can’t shake the nagging feeling that I know her from somewhere.

She’s beautiful, yeah, but she’s not the type I usually go for. It’s obvious she’s attracted to me, but she isn’t throwing herself at me like most women do. Maybe it’s her lack of interest in me that’s piqued my curiosity. I’m always up for a game of chase, but I have a feeling that, once I catch her, she isn’t the type of woman who will be easily cast aside. No, Sidney O’Neil is the kind of woman you want in your bed every night, not just once.

“No way, dude. I’ve been practicing. I’m gonna beat you today,” Connor says, passing me a controller.

He’s probably right, because with the visual of Sidney dancing to Johnny Cash playing on a loop in my head, there’s no way I will be able to concentrate on video games.

B
reccan’s showing up unannounced was definitely a surprise. But it wasn’t the most surprising part of that day. He still doesn’t seem to remember me, and that hurts.

After I ran out of the house like my hair was on fire, I did a little bit of research on him and discovered that Breccan Carlisle is a bit of a playboy. I tried not to let it bother me, but it was obvious I would have just been another notch in his belt. I told myself that I was lucky the night had ended abruptly, but even the knowledge of his partying ways doesn’t stop me from thinking about him around the clock.

So, when I saw him standing in the doorway, practically groping himself while staring at my ass, I was freaked. I tried to cover my embarrassment with sarcasm and by taking control of the situation.

Then he touched me, and with that simple swipe of his thumb, my control was gone. My lip tingled from the contact for what seemed like hours afterward. I stayed in the kitchen, dazed, while he lost game after game to Connor. Occasionally, I would sneak a peek at him in the living room and catch his eyes on me. And, each time, I prayed that he recognized me.

Get over it. He doesn’t know who you are.

Breccan finally throws up the white flag of surrender a couple of hours later, begging for Connor to take mercy upon him. I’m not sure why Brec was letting him win, but whatever the reason, the thrill of victory is written all over Connor’s face.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen, I am making a list of everything I need to get done tomorrow when Breccan asks Connor, “Hey, kid. What’re you writing in that notebook?”

Stiffening, I turn toward the living room just in time to see Connor pause.

“It’s my bucket list notebook,” he responds hesitantly.

Breccan wrinkles his brow and repeats, “Bucket list?” He shifts on the couch to give Connor his full attention.

Connor looks uncomfortable, and I am tempted to interject until a shy smile appears.

“Yeah. When I found out that I was sick, I decided to make a bucket list. You know, all the things I want to do before I die. Aunt Sid’s been trying to help me check some of the things off. Mom too. When she’s home. They keep telling me I’m gonna have fifty years to finish it. But, ya know, better safe than sorry.”

“A bucket list, huh? What kind of stuff you got on there? You want to show me?” Breccan crosses his legs, ankle to knee, then tips his head to the side. “Or is it personal?” He squeezes Connor’s shoulder in encouragement.

Even with a bit of doubt on his face, Connor nods once. Then he opens the notebook and hands it over. Breccan looks over the list, and for a few minutes, the room remains completely silent, save for Connor’s shallow breaths. I make a mental note to talk to the doctor about his breathing at our next appointment.

Actually, let me write that down now.

I pull a blank sheet of paper out and label it
Questions for Dr. Barnes
before making a quick note of the way Connor’s breathing sounds. Short breaths, rapid. Occasionally a long exhale.

I’m still jotting my concerns down when Breccan speaks.

“So, uh, I can help with some of these,” he says.

My head snaps up.

Help? He wants to help?

I’m shocked—and instantly suspicious.

“Really?” Connor squeaks. His face splits into a wide smile, revealing the dimples I haven’t seen in so long.

My heart pounds. Why would Breccan want to help Connor check items off his bucket list? He did his part by coming to visit last Saturday. Does he need more publicity? Is he using Connor to make himself look good? What if he has a hidden agenda?

A million irrational concerns flood my mind. I know I’m making a mountain out of a mole hill, but I can’t stop my thoughts from spinning out of control. I remind myself that Breccan hasn’t asked for anything in return for his visit. Yet, no matter how many positives I come up with, I just keep coming back to the fear that Breccan is going to hurt Connor.

The same way he hurt you.

I can’t let that happen to him. He’s already been through so much, and if he doesn’t get a kidney, there’s so much more he’ll face. Even though I fully believe he’ll come out of this okay, I can’t help but worry about the worst-case scenario.

I march in to the living room, intent on putting a stop to this. Breccan glances up when he hears me coming and smiles at me. Not a smirk or the smug smile meant to set my panties on fire, but a heartbreakingly beautiful, genuine smile.

I pause and study his face. Looking into his eyes, I expect to see pity staring back at me. Instead, I catch a glimpse of sadness—and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.

Interest?

Desire?

Longing?

His smile grows a little wider, and my breath catches. I feel like I’m finally seeing the real Breccan Carlisle.

Not the light heavyweight champion.

Not the pretty playboy.

Not the drunk guy who’s surprisingly charming.

But the real person under the mask.

Still looking at me, he answers Connor. “Yeah, man. I can
definitely
help with these.” He finally breaks eye contact and looks over at Connor.

I smooth my shirt down and straighten my hair trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. The intensity with which he was studying me is puzzling.

I’m still trying to dissect the exchange when I realize I’m standing in the middle of the room, awkwardly staring at both of them.

I move to the love seat and plop down before asking skeptically, “So, how exactly can you help?” It comes out as more of an accusation than a question, and I immediately regret my tone.

He’s been nothing but nice to Connor,
I remind myself.
Stop being so pessimistic all the time!

Looking over at me with a gleam in his eye and a half smile on his lips, he lifts one shoulder and says, “I’m Breccan Carlisle. That’s how.”

Just like that, the sincere guy has reverted back to the cocky man I met last weekend. And I’m once again befuddled.

Maybe he’s bipolar. Split personality?

I make a mental note to Google
split personalities
after Breccan leaves.

“Oh yeah. How could I forget,” I say dryly.

Still smirking, he quips back, “I don’t know,
Sidney
.”
He says my name suggestively, and it
sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m pretty unforgettable. At least, that’s what I’ve been told.” Before he turns his attention back to Connor, he winks at me.

Asshole.

He’s right. He is unforgettable. Which is why I’ve done nothing but think about him for over a month. Shaking myself out of the sudden funk I’m in, I focus on Connor.

He looks like he’s watching a tennis match, his head bouncing back and forth between the two of us. That sly smile he was sporting earlier in the kitchen is back. He finally settles his gaze on Breccan and asks, “So, which one of these can you help me with?”

Without hesitation Breccan answers, “All of them.”

Connor sputters, “All…all of them? But there’re, like, fifteen things on there.”

“Yep. All of them,” he repeats simply. “Hey, I’m starving. I didn’t get to finish my lunch earlier. Know anywhere that delivers salad?”

I shake my head at him.

“No? Damn. Well, looks like we’re going out.”

He doesn’t even bother asking, but I get the feeling that, even if he had, telling him no isn’t really an option.

Connor makes the decision for me when he shouts, “Hell yes!”

I let the curse word slide and get up to put my shoes on.

“Uh, just gotta make a quick phone call,” I murmur, digging my phone out of my purse. After pulling up Jake’s contact, I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

The phone rings several times before his voicemail picks up, and shamefully, I’m thankful I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Hey, uh, Jake. It’s Sidney,” I stutter.

Breccan’s head snaps up, and he cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

I turn my back to him and lower my voice. “Something’s come up. I’m going to have to cancel our date. I’m really, uhm, really sorry. Have a good night.” I quickly end the call and turn around.