Wrong Pucking Move (Humbled Superstars #1)

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

A year ago, I had moved out of the apartment Jesse and I shared and back home with my parents, who lived in an old, historic (by which I meant tumbledown ) neighborhood in a crooked little brick house.

They had helped me move out on a day I knew Jesse was going to be gone, and now most of my shit was stuffed in the backyard shed until I found another place.

My dad was a big, rumpled plumber in his 50s named Roger. He was absolutely great at plumbing and absolutely awful at managing his plumbing business. Despite being a grumpy bastard, the tiniest sob story would move him almost to tears, and he’d be giving away $5000 worth of plumbing for free.

My mom Diane had silvery blonde hair and twinkling hazel eyes, and was a phenomenal lunch lady. She adored Dad, almost as much as she loved our huge, disreputable St. Bernard named Watson, who had way more hair than brains.

I loved my family and tried not to think of living at home as a step backwards.

This was just until I could pay off some loans and save for the first and last month’s rent at a new place.

My little brother Mike was a husky 22-year-old part-time sandwich maker at Subway and part-time jail overnight visitor when he’d do something like get drunk and pee on the mayor’s car. He was a full-time dumbass.

I was shaken by what had happened at the Heat stadium, but after getting home, I changed into comfy leggings and a T-shirt and tried to distract myself.

He was still blocked . And good riddance to him.

My mom and I were in the kitchen making lasagna when we heard the doorbell ring. Mike had just been in the kitchen making himself an enormous pre-dinner sandwich with two solid inches worth of roast beef, so Mom yelled out to him to get the door.

He groaned dramatically but went.

Our house was small enough so that I could see the front entrance from the kitchen, and I guessed it was probably some door-to-door salesman. But I knew something was fucking up when my brother’s sandwich was thrown down on the side table so violently that the whole thing shook.

“Bro, I fucking said it was on sight ! Let’s gooooo!”

There was another violent rattle as Mike charged out the front door.

“What is that boy up to now?” Mom said.

Dad twitched the curtains aside, but he suddenly hoisted himself up from his easy chair with an,

“I’ll be god-dammed!”

I whirled around as I saw him adjust his suspenders and charge out the door too, his wild gray hair sticking up all over his head and his bushy beard bristling with anger.

Fuck

I could only think of one person who would inspire my dad to get up out of his chair in the middle of one of his WWII documentaries.

And it was the person I never hoped to see again.

But I couldn’t very well ignore this, for god’s sake.

I dropped the bag of spinach and raced after them.

And out on the sidewalk I saw Jesse Wi?niewski fending off both Mike and Dad. My brother was fully six feet tall, but Jesse still towered over him. He was wearing a white cable-knit sweater and jeans and was dodging Mike’s blows at the same time as he had a grip on Dad’s suspenders.

“Just give me a chance to explain—” he was saying.

“No fucking way, asshole!” Mike shouted. “Not after you dumped my sister!”

Jesse was forced to let Dad go and put an arm up to block Mike’s punch.

I was gratified by this evidence of brotherly affection, I guessed, but for a moment the breath was driven so hard from my lungs that I couldn’t speak.

Dad picked up a statue of Santa that was still on the front porch, because we were one of those families that didn’t get decorations down until Valentine’s Day at the latest, and jabbed Jesse firmly in the back with it.

“Scram, punk!”

If I didn’t want to scream with rage, I would have smiled to see my dad taking on Jesse as if this professional hockey player wasn’t a foot taller and fifty pounds of hard muscle heavier.

Mike was coming with both fists at Jesse, his arms windmilling in the air.

But suddenly my ex saw me and Jesse froze, his eyes widening. I realized I was in a long-sleeved T-shirt with no bra on but I refused to cover up. He could choke looking at my tits for all I cared.

Mike pulled his arm back like an old-timey cartoon and pasted Jesse right in the mouth. My ex barely reeled back, his eyes still locked on mine, that ice-blue burning hot and deep.

“What are you doing here, Jesse?” I asked.

There was a little smear of blood on his lip from where Mike had hit him, but Jesse wasn’t even paying attention as it dripped down his face.

“I need to talk to you. Please .”

“Talk to my sister?” Mike roared, incensed. “I don’t think so, asshole.”

“You dare to show your face here?” Dad raged. “And what is this?”

He pointed to a Tupperware that had been set down on the sidewalk.

“ Szarlotka ,” Jesse said, still staring at me. “I made some for you.”

“Fuck your apple pie!” Mike roared, kicking the Tupperware so it skittered across the sidewalk.

“All right, calm down,” I said, walking down the steps and grabbing the back of Mike’s shirt. “Just leave, Jesse.”

“No!” he insisted. “I’m not leaving until you hear what I have to say. Can we go somewhere? Maybe get a bite to eat.”

“You can talk to me here,” I said tightly, jerking my head at Dad and Mike so they’d leave.

They went back up the stairs and inside, glaring at Jesse the whole way. I saw Dad scoop up the Tupperware first as Mike pointed his finger in Jesse’s face.

“If you so much as lay a finger on her, asshole. . .”

Jesse’s face was flushed, two pink spots of color high on his cheeks.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” he growled.

“Someone who knows you’re looking desperate, bro,” Mike retorted tauntingly. “What’s the matter? Sick of Instagram models? Fucking pussy.”

“Just go!” I snapped at my brother, tearing my gaze away from Jesse’s burning eyes and shoving my brother up the stairs.

Then I put my hands on my hips and glared at my ex, who was still breathing hard.

“What do you want? Spit it out. I don’t know how long Mike will stay in there. He’s like a mad dog.”

Jesse took a deep breath and ran his hands through that thick golden-blonde hair.

I was startled to see that his hands were shaking.

“I miss you.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You said that already. I still don’t believe you, and I don’t care about your little trip through nostalgia town.”

“It’s true,” he insisted. “I miss you. A lot. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

There were dark circles under his eyes that I hadn’t noticed earlier, his hands still shaking as he shoved them down into his pockets.

“Please, Josie. I made the dumbest mistake of my life in breaking up with you. I want another chance. I want you back .”

I wanted to punch him in his stupid cocky face, except he didn’t look cocky now, just tense, the tendons straining in his arms as his hands were stuffed in his pockets.

“No fucking way, Jesse. Aren’t you engaged to another woman?”

He wouldn’t look away from me. He should look away, after what he had done to me. But he wouldn’t. His eyes were so bright and blue.

“It’s over with her. I was fucking deluding myself the whole time. I made a mistake, Josie.”

“A mistake ?” I shot at him. “You dumped me for another woman. You haven’t talked to me in a year. You are not forgiven.”

Jesse stepped toward me, his hands out in supplication.

“I know it was one huge goddamn mistake . I know I’ll have to make it up to you. I was an ass. A complete fucking moron to think I could live without you. I can’t .”

I stared uncomprehendingly at him, like this shit surely couldn’t be happening to me now.

When I didn’t say anything, Jesse’s lips started to twitch.

“I love you, Josie. I never stopped. Please tell me what I can do to make this right.”

“No,” I said furiously, knocking his hand away as he reached for me. “You don’t get to bring your trifling ass around here selling me bullshit.”

He took a ragged, deep breath.

“Maybe this was too fast. OK, I didn’t mean to freak you out. But I meant every word, Josie. Losing you has been the single stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said flatly, clutching my arms to my chest, like the action would hold me tight, keep me from falling into pieces.

“All you care about is your image.”

“I thought I did, but I don’t. I swear I don’t.”

There was a sharp rapping on the window and I looked around to see Mike and Dad in the frame.

“Wrap it up,” Dad called, twirling his finger around. “I need that sidewalk.”

“You’ve got five fucking minutes or I’m going to start lighting off firecrackers,” my brother warned.

Without looking at us, my mom came and took ahold of the curtains.

“Close them, please. I don’t want to see him.”

I glanced up at Jesse and I saw he was breathing heavily. The dark circles under his eyes were like midnight shadows, and his jaw looked like it could crack walnuts.

Most of Jesse’s family still lived in Poland, and his parents were dead.

My parents had taken him in, loved him like a son.

Until the day he had broken up with me.

“I deserve it,” he said quickly. “I deserve what they think of me. What I did was shitty.”

“OK,” I shrugged. “Thanks, I guess. Thanks for this belated little sorry. You can go now.”

“But I want to win you back,” Jesse said. “The five years with you were the best years of my life.”

I looked at him, really looked at him. Even with the dark circles, and the way his tight skull pressed against his skin, he was still breathtakingly gorgeous.

“What was so great about those years?” I asked.

“Oh, Josie, they were the best!” he cried, his deep voice cracking in his eagerness. “How everything with you was so fun! How we laughed over dumb shit every day. How we did everything together—studying, practices, trips. How fucking amazing it felt to kiss you. How you were the best person to go over games with and analyze what happened and how I could improve. How everything was fucking right with you, baby.”

He was looking down anxiously at me, his big hands clenching and unclenching feverishly now.

“You know what I think?” I said.

“What, baby? What? I’ll never take you for granted again, I swear.”

“I think those five years were a goddamn waste of time, because I spent them with a jackass who dumped me as soon as he got to the big leagues. Because he wanted to level up with other women.”

“No!” Jesse moaned, staggering so he had to grip the fence for balance.

“ You wanted to live your life without me. Well, you got your wish . Enjoy it, baby . There’s tons of girls out there who would fit your lifestyle better. Go find them and leave me alone.”

“No, please!” Jesse begged, clutching at the back of my shirt as I tried to go inside. I had never heard that note in my cocky ex’s voice before. “Please. I don’t want anyone else. I know that now. I was so arrogant. I can’t live without you. I tried. It fucking sucks .”

“I will never believe you care more about me than your image. This conversation is a complete waste of time. Now get your grubby paws off me.”

“How can I prove to you I mean what I say?” he asked anxiously as I tugged my shirt from his grip.

“You can’t,” I said. “Goodbye, Jesse.”

I turned on my heel and went inside just as Mike stuck an air horn out the window and let it go.

My phone pinged as I slammed the door, and I glanced down at the message.

Well, I knew one thing for damn sure. I was going to go on that date with Karel.

If Jesse thought he could get forgiveness with some Polish apple pie, he was goddamn mistaken.

I wasn’t falling for his shit.