14. Stone
The roar of my motorcycle filled the garage as I pulled into my parking spot and killed the engine. I swung my leg off my bike, and my leg nearly gave out. Coach was not happy when I showed up late because I was getting coffee, and he let me know it when I ran onto the field during practice.
He had me run and squat more than I’d ever done in the past. Which I accepted. It helped me work off my interaction with Emerson. I left the coffee shop feeling so confused.
I hated that she was looking forward to when our fake relationship would be over. I guess I’d lulled myself into this idea that Emerson was going to be mine. All mine. Forever. I didn’t have an end date on my calendar for our fake relationship. Apparently, she thought different.
And her thoughts were like a gut punch.
I climbed off my bike and walked over to the elevator. I hit the up button and waited for the doors to open. I jumped in the shower when I got home. Once I was clean, I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed out to the kitchen to find my phone.
Hayden had sent me a text. Emerson had a gig tonight, and she was wondering if I wanted to send her a lucky charm.
Me: Let’s go with the Chinese coin. It’s a good luck charm that symbolizes wealth and prosperity.
Hayden: Got it. I’ll find one and write the note.
I texted back a thank you and set my phone down. With Emerson at a gig tonight, she wouldn’t be out with Brett. I didn’t get a good vibe from that guy. I knew I didn’t really have a say in who she dated. But with the reveal of our relationship coming up, I felt like it was my business—for now.
Just as I moved to set my phone down, it buzzed. I turned it so I could see the screen, expecting it to be a text from Hayden, but I frowned when I saw it was from Priscilla. I unlocked my phone so I could read the message.
Priscilla: We haven’t hung out in a while. I have a reservation at Etch tonight. My date bailed on me. Wanna be my plus one?
I chewed on her question, and just when I went to text thanks, but no thanks, a message popped up.
Priscilla: Strictly as friends and colleagues.
I scrubbed my face with my hand. What would it hurt? After all, Emerson was very clear that she just saw our relationship as fake, and she was determined to keep all her other relationship avenues open. Shouldn’t I do the same?
I wanted my relationship with Emerson to be more than fake. But I couldn’t hold onto her when she so openly told me that she had no intention of keeping this going past a few games and a few gigs. I needed to take that woman at her word.
I needed to protect my heart.
Me: Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll pick you up.
Priscilla: I’ve seen the death trap you drive around. I’ll come get you.
I didn’t like the idea of Priscilla picking me up for a date, but I knew that there was no way she would get on my bike if I showed up at her place. I texted her a thumbs-up and set my phone back down.
I settled on a pair of gray slacks and a white button-down shirt. I rolled the sleeves and found a pair of dress shoes in my closet. I went into the bathroom and styled my hair before spritzing some cologne. I went back to the kitchen to find a text from Priscilla saying she was five minutes out.
I checked the time and saw she sent that text seven minutes ago. I grabbed my wallet and slipped it into my back pocket. Just as I rounded the peninsula, there was a knock on the door. Hating that I made Priscilla get out of her car to come get me, I hurried to unlock the door and pulled it open.
Priscilla looked slightly annoyed when her deep brown eyes met mine. She was wearing a navy-blue satin dress and black heels. Her hair was pulled back, and she had a black fur shawl around her shoulders. Her red lips tipped up into a smile when she saw me.
“You kept me waiting, silly goose.” I could hear the annoyance in her voice, but I chose to ignore it.
“Yeah, sorry,” I said as I grabbed my keys and moved to join her on the landing. She stepped to the side and watched as I locked my apartment and turned to face her. “Ready?”
She nodded as she slipped her arm through mine. “Your stairs as so slippery,” she said as she pressed her body against mine.
I pointed to the elevator. “Do you want to take the elevator down?”
She glanced over at it but shook her head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind the walk.”
I didn’t have to ask what her real intentions were. It was clear from the death grip she had on my arm. She wanted to go down the stairs, so she had an excuse to hold onto me.
I didn’t have the energy to push back. Instead, I just let her hold onto me as we made our way to the stairs. Just as we got to the top, I saw Emerson and stopped dead in my tracks.
She was staring at her phone as she was coming up the stairs. She was wearing her green polo and khaki pants from work. Her keys dangled from the hand that was holding her phone. I had half a mind to yank Priscilla back toward my apartment. But she would no doubt protest, and with the door locked, we would be found out before I could get her inside. It was best to just stand here and face Emerson.
Plus, she should know that if she was keeping her options open, so was I.
It took a second for Emerson to notice that we were standing at the top of the stairs. She glanced up for a moment, whispered, “Excuse me,” and then paused and lifted her gaze to meet mine before she glanced over at Priscilla. Her lips parted as she turned to look at me.
“Emerson,” I said as I nodded in her direction.
“Stone.” Her voice came out breathy and confused.
We stood there, studying each other before Priscilla leaned forward. “I’m Priscilla,” she said, extending her hand toward Emerson.
Emerson took it, and they shook before Emerson pulled her hand back. “Emerson,” she said.
“Emerson,” Priscilla repeated. Then she flicked her gaze between Emerson and me. “And how do you know Stone?”
Emerson glanced at me before she nodded toward her door. “I’m subletting that apartment.”
Priscilla followed her gesture. “Poppy left?”
I shook my head. “She’s gone for six months to photograph birds in Europe.”
“Oh.” Priscilla turned her attention back to Emerson. “That’s nice.” Except the bite to her tone made it clear she thought it was anything but nice. “Well, just make sure that you keep Stone’s residence under wraps. He likes his anonymity. I know it must feel crazy to live across from someone who is famous, but we have to do what we can to keep the paparazzi away from him.” She was waggling her finger toward Emerson and ended her statement by placing her hand on my chest like she was claiming me.
Emerson’s eyes widened as she glanced between us. “Do you know what’s funny—it’s Priscilla, right?” She pointed her finger at Priscilla.
She nodded. “Priscilla.”
“Right. Stone’s never mentioned you. Not the time he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a ride home on his motorcycle. And not last night when he fed me dinner in his apartment.”
Priscilla gasped, but Emerson didn’t miss a beat. Her expression deadpanned as she settled her gaze on me. Then she moved to climb the stairs. “Excuse me,” she said, not really waiting for us to move to the side.
I had to press Priscilla against the wall to let Emerson slip by. I watched her as she crossed the landing and pulled out her keys to unlock her door.
“Let’s go,” Priscilla hissed, her nails digging ever so slightly into my forearm.
I pulled my attention from Emerson and glanced down at Priscilla. She looked perturbed, but she didn’t say anything as we walked down the stairs until we got to the parking lot.
Priscilla tried to engage me in conversation about Emerson while we sat in the back of the luxury ride share she’d rented, but I wasn’t really interested in talking to her about Emerson. I wasn’t interested in hearing Priscilla talk bad about her, and I certainly didn’t want to try dissecting my feelings for Emerson in front of Priscilla.
Once we were at the restaurant, I dodged her questions and comments by changing the subject and ordering alcohol. When our food came, I kept my mouth full, so conversation was hard. I honestly didn’t want to be there. I felt like an idiot for even agreeing in the first place. Priscilla didn’t seem to mind and carried on the conversation by herself while I responded with a few nods and basic responses.
I paid the check and moved to stand, feeling a little tipsy from the two bottles of wine we drank. When we got outside, I told Priscilla I’d get my own ride home. She pouted as she leaned into me. I wanted to step to the side to put more distance between us, but I knew she’d just follow me if I moved, so I let her lean on me.
Her car came to pick her up first. I made sure she got into the back seat and buckled her in. She slurred her words when she told the driver where she wanted to go. I clarified with him, and he nodded and promised to get her home in one piece. I stepped away from the car before concern filled my chest, and I knocked on the hood of the car, telling the driver to wait.
There was no way I wanted her riding home by herself. Thankfully, the driver didn’t pull away. I jiggled the door handle, and he unlocked the doors so I could climb into the back seat with Priscilla. She sighed and laid her head on my shoulder as the driver pulled away from the curb and into the busy city traffic.
By the time he pulled into the circle drive of her apartment complex, Priscilla was passed out. I told him I could take it from here and gently shifted her off my shoulder as I climbed out of the car. I rounded the trunk and opened her door. She mumbled something but didn’t open her eyes. I asked the driver to wait--I’d be back down in five minutes, max. He just nodded as he grabbed his phone from the cupholder and started scrolling.
It took some work to get Priscilla into position so I could wrap my arm around her back to support her upper body and get my other arm under her knees. She was pressed against my chest as I carried her to the automatic doors.
Thankfully, her doorman, Bob, knew me. He nodded to me as he met me at the elevator and swiped his card. He thanked me for the great game on Sunday—he’d doubled his money in a bet—and then stepped to the side so I could board the elevator car.
Once I got Priscilla into bed with a water and a bottle of pain meds on her nightstand, I turned off her lights, locked her door, and headed back out to the elevator.
Bob wished me a good night as I walked through the automatic doors and back outside. The driver was idling a bit further down the drive. I opened the back door, told him to drop me off a block away from my apartment, and closed my eyes as I rested against the head rest.
He dropped me off at the convenience store on the corner. I could tell that he didn’t believe this was where I lived, but I just threw a couple of hundreds in his direction and got out.
I kept to the shadows as I made my way to my apartment. I was exhausted when I finally got inside. Oscar was waiting for me at the door. I’d forgotten to feed him, and he was hungry. I grabbed a can from under the sink and cracked the lid. I set it on a paper plate on the kitchen floor, and he happily dove in.
I flipped off the kitchen light and stumbled to my room. I stripped down to my boxers, set my phone on the charger on my nightstand, and climbed into bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
* * *
Ringing.Strange ringing.
I turned my head to hear better, but the movement caused my head to feel as if it were splitting apart. I moaned as I reached up to keep my head together. Maybe I was just dreaming.
That was it. If I lay still, it would go away.
My body started to relax and feel heavy. Sleep was moments away…
Ringing. Again.
I peeked out through one eye. Were aliens attacking? I shifted my eye around the room, but I was alone. I turned to my side and slowly peeled both eyes open. My phone was lighting up on the charger.
An alert.
I cursed under my breath as I heaved my hand at it. Thankfully, my aim was better now that I wasn’t drunk, and I was able to pull my phone off the charger and swipe it on.
“Poppy’s doorbell?” I asked as I read the alert out loud. Dammit. That woman was going to be the death of me.
I moved to put my phone into sleep mode when my mind finally caught up with what was going on. Poppy’s doorbell was now Emerson’s doorbell. And it was going off. At eight in the morning.
Where was Emerson?
I went back and forth on whether I should look or not until I settled on looking. Worst case scenario, it could be her kidnappers dropping off a ransom note. This could be my only chance at witnessing the culprits.
I clicked on the app as I sat up on my bed. My head was throbbing, but it managed to clear to the point where I could actually process my thoughts. Which was an upgrade.
It took a moment to connect, but suddenly, I was staring at a close-up of Brett. He was standing outside of Emerson’s apartment. He looked disheveled. His head was tipped forward, and both hands were resting on the doorframe.
“Emerson?” he called as he reached over to push on the doorbell once more. He focused on the doorbell and muttered, “She has one of those camera doorbells.”
He stepped back and looked straight at the camera. “Emerson, you left before I could say what I wanted to say. So, I hope you don’t mind that I came over first thing.”
I sat up straighter. She left? Left where? The gig? His house? His bed? My blood was boiling now as I glared at my phone.
“Listen, I know you’re nervous about you and me, but I have to say, we are vibing. Like, let’s see where this goes.” He drug his hand down his face and tipped it to the sky. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I’m the guy.”
I frowned. What the hell did that mean?
He waved to his chest. “I’m the guy who believes in you. I’ve always believed in you.”
Bullshit. What did he know about Emerson? He’s the one who believes in her? Since when? They just met. Why was he talking like he had the kind of history we had? This guy had weasel written all over him. I hated that he was manipulating her like this.
“I’ve had a lot of girls in my life, but no one’s been like you. I just want to see if we can make this work.”
He did this ridiculous half-smile to the camera, and I rolled my eyes. Please.
“I really feel like we could be something. Wanna take a chance on us?”
Having had enough, and needing to put a stop to it, I pressed on the microphone. “I think you have the wrong house, dude.”
I smiled as I watched his face drop.
“She’s the door behind you.”
Brett slowly turned until he was facing my door. I ripped off my comforter and headed over to my dresser, ignoring the wave of nausea.
“What? Really?” he asked, turning to face the doorbell again.
I had my sweatpants halfway up and was trying to hold my phone and tug on my hoodie. “I honestly wouldn’t say any of that to her,” I said.
With my sweatpants pulled up and my hoodie on, I pulled the hood up over my head as I made my way to the front door.
“You don’t think so?” he asked, looking sheepish.
“You’re probably wasting your time with this girl,” I said as I shoved my feet into my shoes. “She’s got guys coming in and out of her place.” I slowly unlocked my deadbolt so he couldn’t hear it.
I glanced at the camera to see him rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. I took that moment to shove my phone into the front pocket of my hoodie, tug the hood further down my face, and pull open the door. I didn’t look to see if he noticed. Instead, I headed straight out of my apartment, shut the door behind me, and bounded down the stairs like a guy who just got laid.
I didn’t stop until I got to the parking lot. I hurried to hide behind the building while I pulled out my phone to see what Brett was doing. I smiled as I saw him staring at my door and then back to Emerson’s place.
“Good luck, bro,” I said.
He sighed and nodded. “Well…” Then he shook his head. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“No problem.”
He pushed his hands through his hair and turned. I watched him walk down the stairs until he disappeared from view. I stood there, in the morning air, waiting for his car to drive by. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes before his red Toyota Corolla passed me. I rolled my eyes as I headed back to the apartment stairs. Once I got into my apartment and shut the door, I kicked off my shoes.
I wanted to collapse back into bed, but I needed to get ready and out the door if I was going to make it to practice on time.
I took the max number of pain meds I could for my headache and stood in an ice-cold shower to sober up. After throwing on my gym shorts and a t-shirt, I was out the door in ten minutes, and as I stood in front of the elevator, I smiled over at Emerson’s door.
My work here was done.
Brett is gone, which meant it was going to be a glorious day.