Tension (8 page)

“What friend?”

“Jesse McIntyre.” Stella’s steps became more and more labored as they walked.
Almost there; just a little further.

“Why does that name sound familiar? Do I know her? Him?” George asked. He knew she was too stubborn to ask for help; he waited until she was about to tip over. “You need me, Love?”

“Damn it!” She stopped and took his arm with a sigh of irritated resignation. She was trying to make it all the way to the physical therapy room without stopping. It’s not that she couldn’t walk, but sometimes she felt so weak it was hard to breathe. Every day she tried to make the goal a little farther.

“El, it’s okay. It’s gonna take some time to get through this. Let me help when you need it.” George smoothed her raven waves back and tucked a wayward strand behind her ear. He leaned in and kissed her gently, then matched her pace the rest of the way to the physical therapy room. Before they went in he asked, “Is Jesse a female?”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Why don’t I know him?’

“We became friends after you left me, George.” This was a knife she could always use.

His face twitched and his jaw tensed. “How good of friends are you?”

“Do you really want to get into all this right now?” Stella turned and looked in his eyes, pleading with him to let it go.

“Fine, but don’t think I’ll forget.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” she muttered.

Jesse played football for the Atlanta Falcons, but had played for the Washington Redskins his rookie year. He still had friends in DC, so he was there often. They’d met after her graduation from law school a little over four months ago, when he was in town testifying before Congress about the impact of concussions on NFL players. He was smarter than she imagined any NFL football player could be and she’d felt an immediate connection to him.

Stella and George had broken up and she wasn’t opposed to a one-night stand, especially with a handsome, intelligent athlete, but she didn’t want to be his DC booty call. They remained in touch over the summer. She wanted nothing from him, which was rare in his business, and physical attraction developed into an easy friendship; they discovered they genuinely liked each other.

Stella didn’t have time to tell Jesse that she was assigned to a case in Montana, so he didn’t know about the attack until her photo appeared on the news. Jesse called her immediately and left voicemail after voicemail until her inbox was full. She listened to all of them one day after she woke up, they were an entire afternoon’s worth of entertainment, ranging from complete panic about an FBI agent that looked like her getting shot at the beginning to “maybe you should wear that bathing suit for me some day” at the end.

Stella was luckier than ever to have Jesse. She was floundering in the spotlight and didn’t know how to deal with it at all, and he was a wealth of information on dealing with fame. They talked numerous times about the media attention and he offered to help and also put her in touch with his lawyer. He told her about strategies he used to deal with intrusive news stories, she wished she’d taken notes. She’d flatly refused to do any interviews at this point.
Head in the sand syndrome
.

It was weird a sensation, but Stella felt she could be herself with Jesse more so than George. They texted each other and talked on the phone, but she hadn’t seen him since she did the walk of shame from his hotel room after their one night together. He made her feel at ease when she felt keyed up around everyone else. Since Stella woke up, she’d tried desperately to be someone she wasn’t with George and her family. Jesse was strictly her friend and had sort of taken Patrick’s place in that department. She felt like she had to put up a front for George to convince him that she was doing well and she certainly hadn’t told him that Jamie shot her. She was still toying with whether to tell the FBI, George, or anyone…other than Jesse. She knew George would go ballistic.

George brought it up again while they were eating later that day. “So, how good of friends are you and this Jesse character?” he asked, sipping the soup he bought for both of them.

“You sound like my dad,” she chuckled. “We messed around. He’s a good guy.” Stella couldn’t meet George’s eyes. They hadn’t really talked about the months when they weren’t together.

“You messed around? Like you slept with him?” George’s eyes were full of jealousy.

“Yep,” she said, taking a sip of soup.

“And you want me to believe that you’re friends.”

“Yes.”

“You said we couldn’t be friends.” His voice was full of tension; he was straining to hold his emotions back, his knuckles white on the arms of the chair.

“We didn’t just fuck though, did we?” Stella retorted, keeping her eyes on her soup.

“Okay…But I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you being friends with this rich guy you fucked. And now he’s sending you flowers!”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can be friends with,” she blurted.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you hanging around with someone you’ve fucked.” His glare was steely.

Stella lowered her voice. “They’re just flowers!” Stella pointed to them. “Beautiful, but nothing more than that.”

Stella walked over to where George was lounging on the couch, stewing, and straddled him cautiously. Leaning in, she kissed him. “I promise, he’s only a friend,” she whispered in his ear. She gently tugged on his lip with her teeth.

George was trying not to respond, but his body gave him away. Stella’s stomach flipped and she felt the same fire she always felt when they kissed; she could tell he did, too. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling it gently to expose her neck.

Her doctors hadn’t cleared her for sex yet.
But what did they know
? She was desperate to try it out and see.

“Do you think we should?” George asked after he tore his mouth from her neck.

“Do you?” Stella pulled his earlobe into her mouth, teasing him.

“I want you so bad…” George put his hands under her shirt and unlatched her bra, his fingers caressing her.

She arched her back into him, feeling him against her thigh. She smiled. “Let’s try.”

That’s all it took. George quickly undressed her, lifting her up long enough for her to pull her shorts and underwear off. She threw them on the floor.

George chopped veggies and sautéed chicken in the skillet while Stella sipped a cool white wine as she sat on the couch and watched the waves crash on the beach. They’d been here for a few days, just enjoying the quiet of the area and each other’s company. No media, no therapists or doctors, just the two them and Cooper. She was almost scared to feel content. They hadn’t even turned on the television. She couldn’t believe it had only been a few days since she’d been released and they’d left DC.

Stella put her last t-shirt in her bag and turned to face George. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Coop’s in the 4Runner. Let’s go.” He took her bag and put it on his shoulder, draped his arm around her, and walked her out of her room.

Her favorite nurse was at the station just outside her room and called, “Bye, Stella! Don’t be a stranger!”

“Nancy, there’s no way I’m coming back here anytime soon,” she replied with a laugh. She’d said goodbye to most of the therapists and nurses that had worked with her over the last four weeks. Her gait was getting better and stronger, but she was still very tentative with her steps due to the pain. Her therapist had allowed her to start a fast walk, while supervised, and she was happy the ache remained the same; the pain was no worse. Stella was elated that there was no additional pain, just that unwavering ache in her chest, which she was starting to welcome. She hoped to move from fast walking to running sooner rather than later; to get back to some sense of normalcy.

George helped her into his SUV. They decided to use his SUV because the media already knew the make and model of her car. She left it parked in his driveway when she went to Montana, but George had moved it back to her house. She was happy that she wasn’t going back to her old house for many reasons. She couldn’t even fathom being in the same room as Patrick right now, and according to Millie, the media was camped out there.

The house she lived in with Patrick and Billy had been on the news sporadically the entire time, their comings and goings documented for the world to see. Billy seemed to play off the attention with humor; Patrick was just pissed. A YouTube video of an unaware Patrick cutting the grass had over one million hits.

George had been bringing Cooper up to the rehab facility for the past 10 days; they would meet Stella in the grass behind the facility and hang out for an hour or so, sometimes even taking a slow walk. Her therapists thought it was a great addition to both her physical and psychological progress and encouraged George to bring Cooper as often as possible.

She missed Cooper so much. It was obvious the feeling was mutual because the dog almost knocked her down the first time he’d seen her. Eventually, she just lay down in the grass with him and let him nuzzle and kiss her all over. He sniffed and licked the scars that showed above her tank top. George lay with them and Cooper settled between them, a protective paw on Stella’s arm. She looked up at the clouds, daydreaming while she dragged her hand back and forth over Cooper’s coat.

“El, I want you to live with me,” George said, interrupting her daydream. “Remember my rules from before you left?”

Stella giggled. “I think they were something like this…” She mocked his low voice, “‘You are my girlfriend. You must text and call me on a regular basis. You going out of town tomorrow really messes up my plans for you. You will stay with me, all night, as often as I will allow it and let me warn you that will be everyday. Also, I need you to answer all questions I ask, whether it is about Jamie or your job. I want to know everything. I need to know everything. I need things from you.’”

He looked at her with amazement. “You really remembered all of my rules?”

“Well, of course. I’m a lawyer. I need to know the rules before I break them.”

“Okay, I’m changing them. I want you with me. All the time.”

“George, I’m not sure you really want that with all this shit going on. Your house will be all over the news,” she said, not looking away from the serenity of the clear azure sky.

“We’re already the cutest couple, according to some of the entertainment news outlets. I happen to agree with that.” George took her hand from Cooper’s back and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“You make my life bearable, but don’t you think this isn’t the best time for us to move in together? Don’t you think it’s too soon?” Stella had done this before, wrapped her life around a man. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. Her entire existence changed when she lost Jamie; she needed to be strong on her own. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be so caught up in a man again that she felt utterly broken when he disappeared.

“Happy to oblige in making your life better, Love. I can do even more if you live with me.”

“I’m serious, George.” Stella worried if she moved in with him it would be the beginning of the end, but where else could she go? Certainly not back with Patrick and Billy. She wasn’t so sure she was capable of living on her own.