Page 23 of Playing for Keeps

He grimaced and looked away from me, releasing a long breath. I got up and paced the length of the room. I was back to where I started, watching Jen slip from my grasp.

“What are you going to do?” Thatcher asked me after I’d damn near worn a hole in the Spanish tile floor.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled as I plopped back down in my chair. “I was too late.”

He leaned forward in his seat, looking at me over the top of his glasses again. “You’re not giving up. Not after everything we’ve done.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked as I threw my hands out to the sides. “She wanted space, so I gave it to her.”

“It’s been a year—”

“And I messed up by dragging her back to the city.”

Thatcher slapped me on the shoulder, clamping his hand down tight. “The only thing messed up in this is your head, Vinny. I saw the way she looked at you last year. That’s not the look someone gives someone else if they’re not in love.”

I huffed out a breath and looked away from him, watching my cereal grow soggy in the red ceramic bowl. I let my mind wander right back to where it shouldn’t go, to the way her lips felt on mine, the way her body reacted underneath me. My heart clenched in my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get the image of her flushed skin out of my mind. It worked. The next image to bombard me was the way she looked when she told me she didn’t want to be with me anymore.

“We’ve done too much for you to drop this,” he told me, his voice quieter, tone more caring. “With her roommate, the apartment, the job. She’s back where she needs to be, and your dumb ass is down here in Florida instead of up there with her.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I repeated, my words trembling as they tumbled from my lips.

“For starters, you can hop back on that plane and fly back home to see a doctor.” Thatcher got up from the table and grabbed the milk, his hand on the fridge while his eyes were still on me. “Let me guess, you were out in the rain.”

The sniff and cough that left me was answer enough. My eyes dropped to the table, head hanging as it shook, a tightness in my chest that had nothing to do with losing the girl.

“You’re going to go see a doctor and get yourself well,” Thatcher said, plopping back in his chair and leaning toward me, all the judgment in his eyes coming from a place of caring deep in his heart. “Then you figure out what you’re going to do to get her back in your life. In the meantime, I suggest you spend some time with your sister and your cousin.”

I glanced up and gave him a questioning look. He raised his eyebrow and looked at me like I was dense.

“Isn’t there a wedding to plan?” he asked. “Dress fittings, bridal showers, rehearsal dinners? Places where the wedding party will have to run into each other?”

My head nodded slightly, though the picture that started to form in my mind was hampered by the thought of this guy on Jen’s arm. The image dissipated as I shook my head and stood.

“I better go.”

“Damn straight, you better go.” Thatcher chuckled and clapped my shoulder again. “Go on. I’ll tell Geoffrey you couldn’t stay.”

“Thanks, Will, I appreciate it.”

I headed back to the guest bedroom and packed my bag. Twenty minutes later I was back in my rental, heading for the airport. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, how I was going to win her back.

All I knew was, I couldn’t give her up.

6

Jen

As I spread the strawberry cream cheese over the last empty spot on my blueberry bagel, I was dancing in my place. It was a happy dance. One I’d used so many times to try to amp myself up, to get myself ready for the day. I dropped my knife in the sink and turned toward the table, only to find Kelly standing in the entryway to the kitchen with a sleepy smirk on her lips. Her bright red curls were in wild disarray around her head, and there were lines across her right cheek from her pillow.

I slapped on my happy face, fake as could be, to cover all the insecurities and anxiety I was feeling.

“I forgot how friggin’ annoying you are in the mornings,” she teased as she grabbed her mug out of the cupboard and the coffee pot off the counter.

“You know you love me,” I said, giving her a grin.

She huffed out a laugh. “You’re lucky I do.” She joined me at the kitchen table. Pulled her feet up in her chair so she was sitting cross-legged while she hovered over the steam trailing out of her mug. We ate and drank in silence for a moment, my happy song trailing off and turning into yet another upbeat song on my playlist. Kelly wasn’t a morning person and I learned long ago it was better to wait until she was ready before I started to talk.

My bagel and my own cup of coffee were halfway gone when Kelly jumped up from the table and grabbed the coffee pot off the warmer. When she turned back to me, a wide smile cracked her face.