Running Back to You (The Running Series, #1) (25 page)

“Jette, can I ask you about Evan McGuire?” Camilla asks.  I nod and she
continues.  “What’s he like?  I mean, he’s so ... wow!  Is he like that in real
life?”

“You know who he is, too, Camilla?  God, I feel like such an idiot.”

“Jette, you have to realize, I grew up with three brothers.  Every one of
them plays football.  My younger brother, Mateo, still goes to UMD.  When they
heard rumors of Evan being traded to the Sentinels, it’s all they’ve been
talking about.”

“Really?  What do they say about him?  I only know one side of him.  That
part of him, the public side, I really don’t know anything about.” 

“They idolize him.  He can’t do anything wrong in their eyes.  Part of it
is because he’s really good.  He was in the running for the Heisman Trophy in
college.  But part of it is his social life.  Are you sure you want me to go
on?”

“Yeah, I think I need to hear this.”  I finish my margarita and Emmy
pours me a refill.

“Well, he’s been photographed with some really beautiful and famous
women.  He’s never with any of them for very long, though.  It’s like he’s
living every man’s dream – football, fame, and fortune.”

“The man I know is completely different.  That guy sounds like a jerk. 
The Evan I know is kind, caring, and ... perfect.”  The girls encourage me to go
on, so I try to put our relationship into words.

“He’s romantic.  I mean really romantic.  And thoughtful.  He gave me
flowers three separate times already.  The first time he did, it came with a
riddle for me to solve.  Did you know that different flowers have different
meanings?  He can just send me a flower and I can read his intention behind the
gift.  So far, I’ve gotten daisies which represent hope, a single tulip that
means affection and caring, and hyacinths that ask for forgiveness.”

“Damn, Jette.  Do you have any idea how lucky you are?  He does sound
perfect.  But is he ... you know ... good in bed?  A lot of these athletes take
steroids.  It really screws with their ... you know ...” Emmy holds up one finger,
then slowly relaxes it until it’s limp in her hand.  We start giggling like
school girls.

“Um, no.  That is most definitely
not
an issue here.”  I can feel
myself blush with embarrassment, and with a little lust.

Emmy adds, “He’s not hard to look at, either.”

“No, he’s not.”  My mind wanders over his body, starting with his
dimples, moving across his shoulders, and dwelling a little longer than I
should on that sexy v-cut in his hips.  But there’s also something sexy about
Evan when he’s completely dressed, all except for those damn bare feet.

“I don’t get it.  He’s hot, good in bed, a real romantic, and he sounds
completely devoted to you.  Why aren’t you with him right now, this very
minute?”  Now Camilla is sounding a lot like Emmy.

“He lied to me.  He told me his name was Evan Thomas.  I had no idea who
he really was.  How can I ever really truly trust him?”

“Jette, put yourself in his position.  You find someone you’re crazy
about and you get to start a relationship with a clean slate.”  Camilla
finishes her margarita slowly, and then looks directly at me.  “I’m guessing
that a lot of his relationships, if you can call them that, were purely based
on fantasy.  Girls are drawn to him for either the fame or fortune.  You
weren’t interested in either one.  You wanted
him
.  Besides, look what
happened when you did find out.  You ran.”

“But there were so
many
other girls, not just rich and famous. 
There were tons of young college girls, too.  There’s always going to be women
throwing themselves at him.  I don’t think I’ll ever fully trust him.”

I didn’t notice that the boys had walked in looking for us.  Apparently,
they overheard part of our conversation.  Grant doesn’t have too much to say,
so he refills everyone’s glass and sits beside Emmy.  Marcus is the first one
to chime in with his perspective.

“Jette, stay clear of that boy.  I don’t care how much he claims to have
changed, don’t believe it.  You deserve better.  You don’t want to become a
part of his fucked-up lifestyle.  Once the season starts, he’ll be gone, a
lot.  Sure, he can keep his dick in his pants here in Point Pleasant, but how
about when he starts travelling?  Can you handle that?  Do you really think
that if he’s in California, Florida, or Tennessee and there’s a team party with
tons of beautiful women, he’ll be able to keep his hands off them?”  Marcus
speaks the exact thoughts that have been plaguing me since I first discovered
the truth.

“He’s going to hurt you.  I know it.  I don’t think I can stand to see
you like you were yesterday.  You came to work looking like a zombie.  Marcus
is right, you deserve better.”  This time, it’s Derek speaking.

“You’re all right, all four of you.  Let’s just forget about this crap
for one fucking night – Okay?  Please?”

I get up and find more plates for the boys so I can serve them my
confectionary treats.  I come back to the table and they have set up shot
glasses and cards for a fun little party game.  “What are we playing?”

“Apples to Apples, but with a twist.  Do you know how to play?”  Derek
asks.

“Sure, everyone gets seven red apple cards and we take turns turning over
a green apple card.  The best match wins, right?”  We played this game a lot in
the common room of my dorm in college.

Grant adds some more rules. “Rule 1.  Winning apple chooses someone to do
a shot.  Rule 2.  Helen Keller card wins the game and
everyone
takes a
shot.  Ready?”  Sounds like fun, mindless, silly fun and I love it.

Since I’m the newest addition to the group, I get to go first.  I turn
over a green apple card and read it aloud, “useless”.  Everyone throws in a red
apple card pretty quickly, except for Derek.  “Come on, Derek, pick a card.”

“Gimme a minute.  I have some pretty good choices here.  Ready?  Anne
Frank, cucumbers, and ballerinas.  I can’t pick.”  Derek actually looks deep in
thought.

“Well, since it’s my round, I’ll tell you
not
to pick cucumbers if
you want to win.  They have
lots
of uses.”  The whole table erupts into
laughter.  This is exactly what I need.  Derek’s selection of ballerinas wins
the hand and he makes me do a shot.

Derek turns over the Green Apple card ‘important’.  We all quickly make
our choices and turn in our cards upside down so Derek doesn’t know who
selected each.  He turns each over and reads them one at a time:  Backstreet
Boys, Spam, whipped cream, x-ray vision, and friction.  He quickly eliminates
Backstreet Boys and Spam, leaving the other three to argue the merits of each.

Grant tries to persuade Derek to pick x-ray vision.  “Dude, you work in a
bar.  Hot girls are everywhere.  Think about it.”

Camilla picks whipped cream.  “Well, can you think of any other condiment
you’d take with you to bed?  You have to have some on hand, just in case. 
Right, honey?”  She kisses Marcus and he nods in agreement.

“I say friction,” Emmy argues.  What’s the point in the whipped cream or
x-ray vision if there’s no friction between the sheets?  We all agree, and Emmy
picks Grant to do a shot. 

The next few rounds, everyone gets to do a shot, but after that, I seem
to be a favorite target.  Emmy makes me do a shot, then Derek makes me do two
in a row, and I’m starting to feel the effects.  “Derek Lattimer, are you
trying to get me drunk?”

“What, who, me?  Never!”  He devilishly grins and slides my chair closer
to his.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  I give him a peck on the
cheek.

“Excuse me.”  I get up to use the bathroom.  “I’ll be right back.”  I
walk to the bathroom, or perhaps stagger is the better word.  When I sit down,
the walls stop spinning for a moment and I’m grateful.  Just then, my phone
beeps signaling a new text message.  I struggle to retrieve my phone from my
pants, which is no small feat.  It’s from Evan.

Damn.  Evan.  I almost went an entire hour without thinking about him. 
Thinking about him makes me want him and wish he was here with me now.  I know
that in my present condition, there’s no way I could resist him.  I should tell
him.

There.  Maybe when he reads that, he’ll regret lying to me.  If he didn’t
lie to me, we would probably be in his bed right now.  Naked.  God, he looks
good naked. 

A ringing phone startles me from my fantasy.  Wait, it’s my phone.  I should
answer it.  “Buddy the Elf, what’s your favorite color?”  I crack myself up.

“Juliette, is that you?”

“Duh.”  It’s Evan, I’d recognize that schmexy voice anywhere.

“Are you Okay?  Have you been drinking tonight?”

“Yup.  I could have been with you, but you ruined it.  Now I’m here with
these other boys who aren’t you.”

“Juliette, who’s there with you?  Is Emmy there?  Can I talk to her?” 

“Why would Emmy be in the bathroom with me?  That’s silly.  I have to go
back to my party now.  Bye-bye.”

I finish up in the bathroom and I’m washing my hands in the sink when
there’s a knock on the door.  I open it to find Emmy standing there with her
hands on her hips.  She’s mad.  That’s not good.  I wonder what happened.

“Juliette Evangeline Fletcher, why the hell did you just drunk dial your
ex-boyfriend?”  Shit, is that what I did?  No. he called me.  I’m pretty sure.

“He called me.  Wait, how do you know?  Emmy, are you a witch?”

“No, Jette, Evan just called me to make sure you were safe.  You really
did have a lot to drink tonight, didn’t you, honey?”

I guess she’s right.  “Emmy, I’m tired.  I think I should go home now.” 
I can hardly keep my eyes open all of a sudden.

“Sorry, but you’re crashing here tonight.  Derek is making up the couch
for you.  Camilla and Marcus just left.  Come on, let’s get you tucked in. 
You’ve had a rough night.”

I
wake up with a pounding headache.  I try to focus on my surroundings
and it takes a minute for me to recall the events of the previous night. 
Shit.  I’m at Derek’s.  I got pretty drunk last night.  I vaguely remember
something about a phone call.  God, I hope I didn’t call Evan and say anything
embarrassing.

On the table beside me is a bottle of water and two aspirins.  I wash
them down and look around to see who left them there for me.  Sitting alone in
the kitchen is Derek, freshly showered.  He’s not wearing any shoes and he’s
sitting there in the quiet kitchen, alone, eating some cereal and reading the
paper.  What is it about bare feet?

Shifting Sands

“G
ood morning, Sunshine.”  Derek must have heard me getting up.

“Good morning, Derek.”  Slowly, I make my way into the kitchen to join
him, sitting at the table directly across from him. 

“How do you feel this morning, Jette?”