Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Jada
“I don’t know, Heather. He’s just busy all the time. And when I do get to spend time with him, he’s so preoccupied.” I sighed into the phone, watching the moscato swirl around in my glass in time with the ceiling fan.
I was supposed to be seeing a movie with Cane, but he had been called away at the last second with little explanation.
Again.
“Well, maybe he is just busy. It doesn’t seem to be anything to really get yourself worked up over.”
I gave the wine a final swoosh before setting the glass down with a clink. “This is how the end began with Decker. There was a slow pull away then, too.”
“Don’t,” Heather said and I knew she was rolling her eyes. “Don’t even go there. Decker was a complete douchebag and, from what you’ve said about Cane, he’s done nothing douchey. Comparing anyone to Decker is like comparing them to Satan. So let’s keep things in perspective, shall we?”
I laughed, relaxing back into the turquoise throw pillows on Kari’s couch. “I see your point. It’s just that this whole thing with Cane has happened so fast. One day I was saying that I would never be with a guy like him. And, before I know it, he’s staying the night.”
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, replaying my relationship with Cane through my mind.
Things had happened so quickly just like I knew they would.
From the moment I saw him, I knew he was going to be a drug to my bad-boy addiction.
But like a true addict, I couldn’t help myself and I needed to make sure I had control of the situation before I was in too far to save myself.
“I just want to make sure I’m seeing things for what they are, not what I want them to be. I don’t want to get so lost in this relationship that I end up being a fool like before.”
“Totally understandable,” Heather said. “But at the same time, you have to evaluate each person for who they are, not for what the guy before them did.”
“I know. But the same things are starting to happen. At what point is it okay for me to let my panic take over?” I chewed on a fingernail.
“Never. Panic is not a good look, Jada.” Heather cleared her throat.
“I wish I was there to take you for coffee and a movie, but I’m not.
You just need to relax, give it some time.
If things don’t change and you aren’t happy in a few weeks, then by all means …
kick him to the curb. But from where I’m sitting, he seems like a good guy and you’re just letting your raging insecurities get the better of you. ”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled to myself. Heather got me in a way that no one else really did. Her way of cutting through the crap and just telling me what I needed to hear could be painful, but if it was what I needed, she would lay it out there.
“You know, he hasn’t even said he loves me, Heather.” I shrugged to myself. “Maybe I feel more than he does.”
“That could be good or bad. I mean, maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re into him way more than he is into you,” she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact.
My heart dropped at her admission. A huge dose of sadness swamped me and took me under. That was my biggest fear … that this relationship was predominantly a one-way street and that one way was leading to Heart Break City for me.
“Or,” she emphasized, “maybe it’s not a word he just throws around, you know? It could be that he’s saving it for the right time.”
I took a sip of my wine, shaking my head. “Why can’t you ever just say what I want to hear?”
Heather chuckled. “Because I’m a good friend. You know better than to ask me shit if you don’t want my real answer. There’s no sugarcoating here.”
“Thanks,” I said, half sarcastically.
“Anytime.”
I laughed easily. “Okay, I’m going to drink this glass of wine, take a hot bath with candles and bubbles alone, because we all know Cane won’t be by tonight, and then go to bed with this hot fighter named Deacon, I think.”
“I’m guessing that’s a book boyfriend I’ve never heard of, and I’m disappointed you haven’t shared him with me yet.”
“You’re the only person I’d share my boyfriends with.” I laughed.
“That’s going a little too far.” Heather cracked up, making me smile. “Okay. Brian is on his way over anyway, so I need to go.”
A pang of guilt twisted its way through me. “How are things with him? I’m a bad friend. I didn’t even ask.”
“This call was about you. I’ll call you one day, and it will be about me. I won’t even let you say anything but, ‘Explain that more, Heather.’”
“Make sure you do that. Now go get ready for your man.”
“Talk to you soon.”
CANE
The lines on the drawings were starting to blur, each line indicating a wall or a utility line starting to become one large, unintelligible mass.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I needed to find some peace. I tried to focus on what would be the patio in Project AH, as Max had begun to call it. It was going to be the best part of the entire project, the focal point for the intended buyer.
That is if I can get it finished.
The tension of the last few days finally caught up with me with throbbing pain behind my temples. I got up from my desk and made my way down the stairs and to my kitchen. I grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured a shot, slamming the liquid back, feeling the burn as it went down.
The house felt so empty, cavernous … lonely.
How did I never notice this before?
I looked around the room, realizing for the first time how cold everything seemed; how much I missed the little things that told me Jada had been around.
A grin crept across my face as I looked at the floor in front of the oven. Her naked body, her shy smile, her voice asking me to take her right there in the middle of the spilled flour … I shook my head.
Damn, I miss her.
My chest began to tighten, a twitch that I wasn’t used to feeling rippling through my torso. It was strange and uncomfortable, almost a hollow pain … like something was missing and a part of me was gone.
What the hell is happening to me?
I poured another shot and downed it, clenching my teeth as the liquor tore its way down my throat. The burn was a welcome feeling, covering the emptiness that I felt inside.
She should be here right now.
I grabbed the DeLeon tequila and tipped it back, taking a shot right from the bottle.
But she can’t be. Not until I know that everything is okay. I can’t risk her safety by being with her all the time.
I needed Jada like I needed air. I wasn’t sure how in the hell I had gotten to that point or when it had happened, but I couldn’t really deny it.
I thought about the plans on my desk and laughed at myself.
I’m such a fucking tool.
I walked through the living room, into the guest bedroom I had converted into a workout room, and grabbed my boxing gloves.
I need to stop the insanity now, while I can. I haven’t committed. I can still walk away. Go back to the way things were. Remember that? When I followed the rules? Things were easy. Fun. Focused.
I stuck my hands into one of the red gloves, laughing at myself.
Who am I kidding? You can’t go a fucking hour without thinking about her. There’s no way you can call anything off.
I got my other hand situated in its glove and stretched my arms out to the side. My body was tense, my muscles stiff. I threw out a couple of jabs, getting warmed up.
Why couldn’t Simon have stayed in California? Why did he have to move back to Phoenix a few months before Jada?
I threw a couple of jabs and followed them with my left hand, getting into the flow.
Did I really have that much bad fucking karma?
I began to pepper the bag with combinations, the sound of the gloves smacking the leather loud, but not louder than my thoughts.
The harder I threw, the madder I got. With each punch, a bit of the bullshit that clouded my fucking head cleared out and I was able to focus. Boxing had always done that for me, given me a way to see who I really was. What I really wanted.
The bag didn’t care who I was or what I should want. It stood in front of me and let me assault it, let me work shit out for myself without trying to talk me out of or into anything.
Regardless of what it takes, I am going to make this fucking work. If I have to kill the bastard myself, I will. But I won’t lose Jada over this. This may be a fucked up few months, at best, but she’s mine.
The bag bounced on its stand, shaking the chain that held it in place. The sound of my fists slamming into the leather was like music to my ears, reminding me that I was in control. I created my own destiny. I could get what I wanted.
I threw a hard overhand right and watched the bag shake until it stopped.
I have what I want. I want Jada Stanley. Fuck everything else.
I pulled my gloves off, my moment of clarity more like a moment of acceptance of the things I already knew, and picked up my phone.
Me: I miss you. Hope you’ve had a good night.
Jada: Just got into bed.
Me: I should be with you.
Jada: You know where to find me.
I smiled as I felt a pull overcome me to do just that: find her and never let her go.
Soon.
Me: I’m working on AH tonight. I have a few things I have to get worked out by Monday.
Jada: I heard Max talking about that. He said it was going to be the death of him.
I chuckled.
Me: He’s just wanting sympathy.
Jada: LOL
Me: I just wanted you to know that I was thinking of you. I’ll try to come by tomorrow, if that’s okay?
Jada: I’d love that. I miss you.
Me: Good night.
Jada: Good night <3
Me: Heart.