Chance of a Lifetime (Anderson Brothers) (2 page)

Chapter Three

I
t had taken all of Chance’s self-control to not block her strike, and then even more restraint to remain perfectly still as Genny, brow furrowed, flapped her hand. As bad as it had stung his face, it was no surprise it had hurt her—which brought him no joy whatsoever.

Her mahogany-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail that reached her shoulder blades, with a fringe of bangs framing her face. He could see the outline of her lace bra through the pale pink V-neck T-shirt under a blazer the same rich chocolate color as her eyes. That, in combination with her tight jeans with designer holes at the knees, made her all kinds of casual sexy.

Without a word, she walked toward her friend with the short skirt and spiked black hair, who helped her gather her things and led her out the door while he stood there dumbfounded.

He had no idea what had set her off. Honestly, right up until the moment she slapped the shit out of him, he thought she’d known who he was. If he’d had a shred of common sense or decency, he’d have slipped out of reach before she kissed him in the first place. Clearly, he had neither of those attributes.

And what the fuck was that about anyway? Who did she think she was kissing if not him?

He touched a finger to his lips. She’d tasted of beer, and salt, and…

Holy
s
hit, shit, shit.
He’d kissed
Genny
—the most taboo woman in the world. Genevieve Elizabeth Richards—his best friend’s little sister. His stomach plummeted to his feet. Walter would kill him for this if he found out.

It was imperative his friend never found out. Which meant he had to talk to Genny before she got to her brother.

“Hey, buddy. Hold on a minute,” the bartender called as he strode toward the door. “I need to talk to you.”

Not nearly as badly as Chance needed to talk to Genny. Not even slowing, he continued toward the exit hoping he could catch her before she got too far away.
“If you don’t stop, I’m calling the cops and telling them you’re a creeper stalking a blind girl.”

Son of a bitch.
Just short of the door, he turned and faced the guy. The cops wouldn’t believe that for a second, but the last thing he needed was a scene. He’d broken his promise to Walter and he’d fucked up—again. He needed to keep things low-key and make this right. He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “We’re cool. No need for that.”

The guy grabbed a towel and wiped the area Genny and her friend had just vacated and gestured for him to sit.

Chance slid onto the stool, fighting the urge to glance over his left shoulder at the door. She was getting farther away by the second. His only shot at talking to her was to catch her on the street.

“So, what’s your story?” the bartender asked.

“I don’t have one.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not good with letting you follow her.”

The guy’s tenacious overprotectiveness was a pain in the ass, but Chance had to admire his loyalty to Genny. He acted as if he had an interest in her more than that of customer, which shouldn’t be a surprise. She was a smart, beautiful woman. Of course she’d have guys after her. He tamped down the unexpected jealousy accompanied by hot prickles up his neck.

“You clearly know her. At least you know her name,” the bartender continued, pitching the rag aside and crossing his arms over his chest. When Chance didn’t respond, the guy pushed harder. “Who is Gen to you?”

“Who is she to
you
?” His voice came out louder and harsher than intended. It was like his limbic system had totally overridden reason and control. Like the old days…

The guy met his eyes directly. “She’s a friend.”

“Same here…well, we used to be friends.”

The bartender arched an eyebrow. After a moment, he grabbed a glass, filled it with ice, then popped the top on a can of Dr Pepper and poured it. “There’s a long story here, isn’t there? One that will explain why you’ve been hanging out here on Tuesday nights for a couple of months.”

“Yeah, a very long story. Too long.”

He slid the glass in front of Chance and placed his hands wide on the bar. Not threatening, per se, but definitely making it clear he was ready to make threats if need be. “You’re not going to follow her. I have all night. Settle in and tell me a story, Doc. I’m a great listener.”

But Genny’s big brother, Walter, wasn’t a great listener. He never had been. And if she got to him before Chance cleared the air with her, it would be bad. Really bad. Just like a decade ago. “I met Genny around twenty years back, when I was in second-grade Little League with her brother.”

The guy relaxed and placed a fresh basket of pretzels in front of him.

“The boys on the team were teasing Walter about his little sister.” Chance closed his eyes and could see it as if it were yesterday. Her mom had been watching practice from the bleachers, but got up to go do something. The boys were calling Genny “weirdo” and worse. Walter, a good head shorter than the other boys, did nothing to stand up for his little sister, who was sitting alone on the bench with a ratty doll rocking back and forth singing to it. Chance’s heart broke when she stopped singing and turned her head to listen to the boys’ taunts. She continued to rock, but he knew she’d heard because a tear slid down her face and landed on the doll. She brushed it away from the doll’s face and told it to not listen to the mean boys. That she was a beautiful, smart doll and should never cry.

At five, she’d had more wisdom and strength than the little shits who had mocked her. Sometimes, even now, he’d see that moment in his sleep and wake up in a cold sweat, wanting to kick the world’s ass for being so heartless.

Taking a deep breath, he loosened his grip on his glass and set it gently on the bar.

A waitress dropped off a ticket and the bartender drew a draft beer and handed it to her, then turned his attention back to him. “And so you defended him, put the bullies in their places, and the two of you bonded and became fast friends.”

“No. I defended
her
and got the shit beaten out of me.” He took a sip of his soda. “We bonded in the ER waiting room when his mom took me to get the stitches over my right eye.”

The guy winced and extended his hand. “I’m Andy, by the way.”

“Chance Anderson.” After a quick shake, he glanced at the door. He’d never catch her now. Walter was going to be royally pissed off—and for good reason.

“Why do you need to talk to her so bad?”

“To warn her off telling her brother about the…what just happened. I promised him that I wouldn’t interfere with her life.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was simply making sure she was okay. She never even knew I was here.” Neither had Walter, and he hoped to keep it that way.

Andy barked a laugh. “Well, she knows now! It’s pretty random you were the one she selected to kiss.”

“Random. Yeah.” He shook his head and drank the rest of his soda. “Incredibly random.”

“So big brother asked you to keep an eye on her?”

“Something like that.” Chance and Walter weren’t as close as they had been in high school, but they still met up a couple of times a month to run in the park. They never talked about Genny. Ever. But two months ago that changed. As they jogged past East Green, Walter said his sister had moved out of their parents’ house and into her own apartment while he was out of town on business. Chance had never seen his friend so worried.

Wanting to be sure she was okay, Chance waited outside her building in Midtown the next day until she left work, and then followed her to this bar. He took the corner seat, telling himself he was only making sure she was safe, but he knew at that moment, he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Walter would blow a gasket if he discovered that Chance hung out in a bar every Tuesday to catch a glimpse of his little sister.

“You seem like a good guy, Chance. So what if I tell you I know where she is right now?”

He tried not to let his excitement at that news show. He’d been coming to the bar every week, but had never allowed himself to seek her out beyond that. “I’d be very grateful if you’d give me that information.”

“There’s a price.”

“There always is.”

“I’ll tell you where they went if you put in a good word for me with her friend, Sherry.”

He had to be kidding. Genny had just slapped him and stormed out mad. No word from him would be good. “Sure. No problem.”

Chapter Four

O
n step thirty-seven, Gen knew she was within half a block of the corner. Even this late at night, the traffic on Broadway was heavy and loud. “Chance Anderson is a total jackwagon, I tell you.”

Sherry barked a laugh and fell into step beside her. “He’s a hot AF total jackwagon.”

“Don’t let his looks fool you. I don’t,” Gen said.

Sherry snorted.

Enjoying her mini rant, she continued. “He’s a royal asshat. All bow down to King Asshat,” she shouted, knowing full well that nobody in Times Square gave a shit.

They reached the corner, and Sherry busted out laughing. “I volunteer! I’d totally genuflect before that guy. Holy shit, Gen, he’s gorgeous. And those eyes! The bluest I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe you actually know him. And damn, girl, you guys were really into it. I’m going to have to go home and find some batteries after watching that.”

Why did the guy she kissed have to be Chance? She couldn’t even get reckless down right. She heard the traffic shift, and she tapped the curb with her cane.

“All clear,” Sherry said, lightly touching her elbow as they crossed the street.

When they’d first started hanging out together, Sherry had hovered too much and had pulled her around like she couldn’t find her way on her own. Sighted people tended to think being blind was like a sighted person wearing a blindfold. So not true. Her other senses were fine-tuned and came close to making up for the lack of sight. She could tell where alcoves, alleys, and doors were from the sound of her cane taps rebounding off the buildings as she walked. She could even tell what material the walls were made of from the taps. Wood sounded different from glass, and metal sounded nothing like brick. She was good at predicting age and gender from footfalls in passing, and with her adaptive technology on her phone, she could use apps for location and even to identify objects.

Before long, her new friend realized how well she functioned and backed off, treating her like a person, not a disability, which is exactly what she needed—especially in light of her parents and brother still treating her like she was helpless and hopeless. Something Chance had never done, which was why his betrayal had hurt so much.

Fuck that. Fuck
him
. She inhaled a deep breath, taking in the familiar city smells. Car fumes, assorted food odors, and a tinge of garbage from the late-night pickup.

Yeah, “fuck him” was right. That was the problem. That’s exactly what she wanted to do—what she’d wanted to do from the moment she knew what that word meant.

By high school, she was hopelessly in love with her brother’s best friend. He was the only one who had ever treated her like she wasn’t blind. He let her go everywhere with him—to concerts, to movies, even on his family’s yacht. He’d never kissed her or acted romantic, but in her adolescent, romantic mind, that was because he was noble and polite. It wasn’t until later, after he’d disappeared without a word, that she realized the affection had been one-sided. If he’d considered her a friend at all, he would have answered her calls or at least said good-bye.

Her cane skittered across a fracture in the pavement and she slowed. She’d been an idiot back then to think Chance cared. He was almost three years older and never saw her as anything other than a little girl.

The pavement leveled out and she picked up her pace, sweeping her cane directly in front of her because of the number of people still out and about. It was one of the things she loved about living in New York City. She was never truly alone—which is how she’d felt for years after Chance disappeared without a word. And now, ten years later, here he was, probably still seeing her as that same little girl.

A hot wave passed through her at the memory of his body against hers as they kissed. He certainly hadn’t kissed her like he thought she was a little girl.

Fuck him,
she growled in her head.

Yeah…exactly.

“We’re here.”

Cool air scented with baked waffle cone and fresh cream washed over Gen’s face as Sherry opened the door to the ice cream shop. Two beers and now ice cream meant an extra hot yoga class. Totally worth it, though.

Before they reached the counter, her phone rang. No doubt about who it was. Even if it weren’t for the customized ring, she’d know it was her brother’s routine evening call. “Hi, Walter. I’m fine.”

“Are you home?” It was silent in the background, which meant he was still at the office or at his apartment.

“Almost.”

“Why are you still out?”

Angry prickles crawled up her neck. When would he realize she wasn’t a child? “I worked late.” No way was she telling him the truth. He’d probably threaten to withhold trust money.

“Call me when you get to your apartment so I know you made it safely.”

It was easier to agree than argue. Besides, she didn’t want another conversation with her friend about how she needed to deal with her big brother. “Fine.”

She slipped her phone into her bag as Sherry ordered a double-scoop mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. Gen got her usual single scoop cup of double fudge delight.

“So, what’s next on your list after kissing a total stranger—or is that a do-over since he wasn’t really a stranger?” her friend asked as they tucked into chairs in the corner.

“No do-overs.” That kiss could never be topped. Her body thrummed with energy as her mind replayed the feel of his hands and mouth on her. “Next is a roller coaster.” Which didn’t seem nearly as daring or exciting as kissing Chance. But when she’d made the list at fifteen, it had held appeal.

Maybe because she’d envisioned herself doing it with her big brother’s best friend, who would have certainly wrapped a protective arm around her in her vivid teen imagination.

She dug her spoon into her ice cream and pushed the image from her mind.

“Soooooooo, you gonna tell me about it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you value your shins, because I’m going to move all your furniture around so you whack into stuff if you don’t give me the scoop on the doc and why you dislike him so much.”

She didn’t dislike him. That was the problem. Even after all this time, part of her still longed for him, while another part wanted to let him know how much he’d hurt her. She swallowed hard and took a breath. He probably hadn’t even thought of her after that horrible night. “I told you. Because he’s a jerk.”

“You can’t get off that easily. Not this time. There’s more to this. Spill.”

She took a bite of her ice cream and thought about how to sum it up concisely. A protracted discussion of her teen crush would only make matters worse. “We used to hang out a lot, Walter, Chance, and me. Our parents were friends—still are.”

She hadn’t realized she’d drifted off into her memories until her friend cleared her throat theatrically.

“Walter had a lot of after-school commitments starting in middle school because of lacrosse practice, so often, it was just Chance and me hanging out. We were very close…or at least I thought we were.” She took another bite, not even appreciating the smooth chocolate taste. “Walter treated me like a helpless blind sister. Chance…didn’t. Ever. He treated me like…”

“A girlfriend?”

She sighed. “No. Like a regular person.”

“Ah,” her friend said, paper napkin rustling as she likely wiped her lips. “So why the slap instead of relocating that hot make-out session to your apartment where it belongs?”

Excitement and horror in equal parts flashed down her spine in prickly heat at the thought of Chance being in her apartment. “Because he…” How could she finish that sentence without sounding melodramatic?
Betrayed me
seemed too much, but was the truth. “Let me down.”

“Still listening.”

Shit.
“We went to the harbor for New Year’s Eve—Walter, Chance, me, and a neighbor of ours named Phoebe who Walter was hot for.” She took another bite of ice cream. “I never really liked Phoebe. She was always talking the boys into doing stupid stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like breaking into my parents’ liquor cabinet. Anyway, the four of us went to the harbor. It wasn’t a date between Chance and me, but being only fifteen, it was as close as I’d come, and, well…I had a good imagination.”

“So, you came on to him. That’s understandable.”

“No. I would never have done that. I…he…” She smoothed the top of her ice cream with the back of her spoon. “Well, I was intimidated and clueless. At that time, the three years he had on me seemed like decades. I had some romantic notion that if I had him alone at midnight without Walter and Phoebe, he’d kiss me to ring in the new year. I thought that was a rule—you had to kiss whomever you were with when the new year came in.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s not a rule, because you’ve spent the last three New Years’ with me. I like you, hon, but not that way.”

She laughed.

“Sorry,” Sherry said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Then what happened?”

She’d never forget that night. Everything changed because of it.
She
changed. She pushed her ice cream away and sighed. “We were playing Skee-Ball and I was desperate to get Chance alone. I convinced him to take me to the edge of a pier at the far end of the marina.”

“Well, that was clever.”

“I thought so at the time. It turned out to be a stupid mistake. When we got to the end, his phone rang and he told me I needed to go hang out with Walter for a few minutes because he had to do something—an errand. He said it would take less than five minutes.”

“What was the errand?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t matter. In my fifteen-year-old mind, the only thing that mattered was me.”

“Hah! I’m still that way.”

“No, you’re not.” Sherry was the kindest, most giving person she knew. “Anyway, I refused to go hang out with my brother. It had been hard to get Chance alone on the pier, and I was sure it wouldn’t work again. I convinced him to just leave me there while he ran his quick errand. I scolded him for treating me like a little kid who needed a babysitter. I could tell he didn’t want to leave me alone, but I was the whine master and he relented once I promised to sit down and not budge from the spot. I really wanted that kiss, and at the time, I thought I was as able as a sighted person.”

“You are.”

“Most of the time, yes, but I was in an unfamiliar place.” She could almost smell the salty air and hear the laughter of people on the boardwalk and music from a live band.

“Still listening. Nothing slap-worthy yet.”

Aware her friend was studying her, she consciously relaxed her face and arms. “Well, he’d promised it would take less than five minutes, but after half an hour, I got mad, imagining all kinds of crazy reasons he’d left me there.” She still imagined all kinds of reasons. Over the years, she’d pondered every scenario from him leaving to avoid her, to his meeting up with a girl and forgetting about her until the next morning. “I also worried he wouldn’t be back before midnight and I’d miss that kiss, so I decided to set out to find him. Show him I was like any other girl and not handicapped. The fireworks went off the moment I stood. I didn’t have a cane because I wanted to look normal and cool and maybe make people think Chance was my date—maybe make him think it.” She’d lived it over and over so many times in her head, it was like it had happened yesterday. Her breath caught as it played out in her mind. “The fireworks were loud and I became disoriented and headed the wrong direction, right off the side of the pier.”

“In January.”

“Technically, still December for a few minutes, but yeah. It was freezing. I tried to get out of the water, but couldn’t. My down coat, boots, and heavy sweater were deadweight, so swimming was hard. If there was a ladder, I couldn’t find it, and all the pilings were covered in barnacles, so I got cut up as I hung on.”

“You must have been terrified.”

“I was pretty freaked out. Hitting the water was a shock. Not finding a way out and being sliced up was worse. Eventually, some cops came and fished me out. I’d been in the water about fifteen minutes and everyone was worried about hypothermia. I also had a lot of gashes from the barnacles, so I was taken by ambulance to the hospital.”

“Did Chance come in the ambulance with you?”

“No. That’s the worst part. He didn’t show up until the next day.” Whatever reason he’d left her for had obviously been more important. Tears stung her eyes and she turned her head toward the door pretending to be interested in a family that entered the ice cream shop, making way more racket than seemed necessary for three people—maybe four if there was a kid being carried. With her heightened sense of hearing, she could identify number with excellent accuracy.

Sherry’s foot tapped against the base of the table. “And?”

“And he didn’t give any excuses or explanations as to why he didn’t come directly to the hospital. I assumed he’d left to do something somewhere else or he was mad at me for not staying where I said I would. When he finally appeared, my parents ordered him to leave, but he didn’t. Walter and Chance argued, and then he left. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen him since.”

“And it was quite a reunion.”

No kidding.

“There has to be more to that story.” Sherry’s chair scraped on the floor as she stood. The air stirred as she gathered her garbage from the table. “It makes no sense that he didn’t come straight to the hospital, and I don’t understand why he stopped talking to you. You’re leaving something out.”

It was too hard to explain. At the hospital, he and her big brother had talked about her like she wasn’t even in the room—or worse, like she wasn’t competent enough to be included in the conversation.

“She could have died!” Walter had yelled. “She’s disabled. Blind. Helpless.” He’d used every word she’d been denying for years, over and over until she’d wanted to scream. But she didn’t. She’d lain in the hospital bed completely silent. Helpless, like she’d been labeled.

At fifteen years old, surrounded by her disapproving family, covered in stitches, and embarrassed at her reliance on sighted people, all she wanted was to be normal and independent. She’d thought Chance saw her that way, but he just took her brother’s reprimand in silence, never once defending himself or her. He might as well have called her those things himself.