Crushed Page 11

  I’ve told Luke a thousand times I’m not a runner. I learned to avoid PE class after Ricky Garcia threw a ball at me during a third grade game of dodge ball that pegged me right in the face. The other kids laughed, and I thought I was going to die from humiliation. Since then, I participated as little as possible in any game involving balls flying near my head. Even though I was unlikely to be hit in the head while running, my loathing of physical education expanded to include it as well.

  “Just one run? I promise, if you really hate it, I won’t bug you to do it again.” Luke smiled at me like he already knew I was going to give in to his request. He always got his way.

  “Fine. One run. But I’m not a runner, so I’m not going to be able to keep up with you.” I already regretted my decision.

  “I’ll run behind you. You can set the pace, and I’ll enjoy the view,” he said with a naughty grin.

  “Oh no, you won’t!” I shrieked at him, and he laughed. “You run ahead of me. I’m just warning you that I’ll need to stop before you will.”

  “Okay. I run in front, and we stop when you need to. Any other demands?”

  “I don’t think so. When are we going on this dreaded jog?” I continued taking notes from the United States history textbook in front of me.

  “Let’s go now.” Luke popped up from where he’d been lying on my bedroom floor.

  “I can’t go now,” I protested, but I could already see the familiar look of determination on his face. He was unstoppable once he set his mind on something.

  He fetched my shoes from the closet, ignoring my attempt to delay the inevitable.

  I reluctantly went to the bathroom to change, and when I emerged, he was gone. I looked out my window and saw him waiting outside. I begrudgingly headed downstairs and let my mom know we were going for a run. She started to say something but stopped when she saw I was wearing one of the few things I own that qualified as a workout outfit. She gave me a puzzled look. I shrugged my shoulders and headed out the front door.

  As promised, he maintained a pace that surely felt turtle-slow to him but allowed me to keep up. I stopped a couple of times, and so did he. Eventually I found a rhythm of sorts and pushed myself a little harder. I finally stopped when my lungs felt like they might burst into flames.

  “That was almost two miles. Not bad for your first time, Adams.” He examined his pedometer while I caught my breath.

  “So, what do you really want to do with your life?” His question seemed to come out of nowhere and caught me off guard.

  “What?”

  “Like, what would truly make you happy?”

  “I’m going to study business in college,” I answered. “You already know that.”

  “That’s not what I asked. What would make you happy?”

  “Like, if earning a viable living wasn’t a goal?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t know.” He appeared truly interested, so I put a little more thought into my answer. “I enjoy taking pictures. I’ve sometimes daydreamed about being a successful photographer.”

  “That’s cool. You’ve never mentioned this before.”

  “Well, I also want to be able to afford more than ramen for dinner every night, so business is a safer option.” The question still felt random to me. “Why are you asking me this now?”

  “I have this theory about running, that when your legs are aching and your lungs are burning, you can’t think of much else. It clears your mind of all the clutter. I like to run before I make any big decision. Then I know I’m making a decision based on my true feelings and not letting other junk get in the way.” He shrugged and looked down at his feet.

  A realization dawned on me. “This is why you wanted me to go running with you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I thought it would sound, well, dumb. I thought if you experienced it, you would know what I was feeling, and it would make more sense.”

  Luke and I started going on weekly runs together. We discussed our dreams and fears. We learned a lot about ourselves and each other. I continued to run, even after he left, until I found out I was pregnant. Once I married Grant and had Amelia, I never made time for it again.

  “Jessica?” Luke says my name in a way that leads me to believe this isn’t the first time he’s said it.

  “What?”

  “I asked you if it helped?” He’s eyeing me cautiously.

  Tears pool in my eyes, but I’m able to wipe them away before they overflow.

  “What is it?” He sounds genuinely concerned.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Just say what you need to say.”

  “Why did you take me on this run?”

  Luke sighs and takes a few steps toward me. “I’m trying to help. You’re holding back, and it’s hurting you more than it’s helping.”

  “I’m scared.” The truth spills out before I think better of it.

  “Of what exactly?”

  “A lot of things. Things I’m not ready to share with you.” I shake my head and focus on controlling my tears.

  “Fair enough. I probably haven’t earned the right to ask that. Maybe you’re not ready to tell me what you’re feeling, but you need to at least be honest with yourself.”

  Luke is quiet for several minutes. He’s always been good about knowing when to push and when to back off. I suspect that’s one reason why he’s a successful negotiator.

  “My turn to ask you some questions.” I change the subject.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asks without a trace of hesitation.

  “We’ve run into each other a lot over the last few months. How have you been able to show up where I’m at?”

  “Can you be more specific?” His mischievous grin gives him away before his words do.

  “Well, you showed up at my work after the reunion, and you admitted that wasn’t a coincidence.”

  “That’s not a question,” he teases. He appears to be enjoying where this conversation is heading.

  “How did you know I was going to be at the bar with my friends that night?”

  “That time actually was coincidental. Like I told you that night, my assistant came to attend meetings with me. We were grabbing a quick drink at the end of a long day. You being there was a pleasant surprise.”

  “Pleasant isn’t how I would describe it. Apparently, I don’t remember the evening the same way you do.”

  “Obviously not. I remember I got to drive you home.”

  “She’s very pretty, your assistant.” I try extra hard to make it sound like a simple observation and not the words of a jealous woman.

  “I know where you’re going with this, and no, I haven’t slept with her. Contrary to what you’re thinking, I’ve never mixed my dating and professional lives.”

  “Isn’t that exactly what we’re doing?”

  “That’s not fair. You’re different. I will break every one of my rules for you.”

  My chest involuntarily tightens. “All right. Amelia’s soccer game? That couldn’t have been a coincidence.”

  “It wasn’t. It’s not that difficult to find out where local youth soccer games are being held. I went to a different field first. I got lucky that the second field was the right one.” Luke wears a cocky grin and appears to be very proud of himself.

  “Some people might consider this stalking.” I raise my eyebrows.

  “Only if you’re creepy. In my case, I consider it using my resources wisely.”

  “What about the Mexican food from my favorite restaurant?”

  “That was a mix of detective work and luck. I had Aaron call Linda to see if she could recommend a great Mexican restaurant in town. I took a chance that you would like the same place. Glad to hear it’s your favorite.”

  “Stalker.” I can’t help but smile at the idea o
f him going to so much trouble. The time feels right to admit something. “You know what I’m really afraid of?”

  “What?”

  “Making another mistake.”

  “What mistakes have you made?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe trusting people I shouldn’t?”

  “If you’re talking about Grant, it’s not your fault the guy you married turned out to be a cheating asshole. As much as I don’t like the guy, I know better than to assume he’s always been a dick. You married him because there was something real there. Just because it didn’t work out doesn’t mean you had bad judgment.”

  “I don’t know if you’re the best one to be judging people about monogamy.”

  “Wait a minute. Let’s be clear. I’m not like him. I purposely have chosen not to be in relationships, specifically so no one gets hurt. When I commit, I don’t cheat.”

  “I wish I could be more casual like that.”

  “No, you don’t.” Luke shakes his head.

  “Seems like it’s been working for you.”

  “Has it? Is that why I’m working so hard to convince you to give me another chance?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “So why are you? We’ve both had the opportunity to say things we needed to say and clear the air. We could be friends.”

  “No offense but I have enough friends. I know there’s something still here. Something worth exploring.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I just am.”

  “I wish I was too. I may be too damaged to even think about getting into another relationship.” I lower my gaze, ashamed of the words that just came out of my mouth.

  Luke closes the space between us. At first I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead he stands in front of me and places his hands on my shoulders. “You’re not damaged Jessica, you’re hurt and scared.” He looks at me intently, making sure I’m paying attention. “If a time comes when you tell me you don’t want to be with me, I will leave you alone. You’re going to be fine with or without me, but I hope I’m still here when you remember how amazing you are and are ready for something more.”

  He wraps both arms around me. His arms are strong, and his body is warm. There is nothing sexual about this hug; it’s simply comforting. When I move, he releases me. The look on his face says he’s concerned we’re saying goodbye. I’m not ready to tell him I’m afraid to let him leave.

  Chapter 12

  On our walk back to Luke’s apartment, I alternate between going home and staying. Both options cause my anxiety to swell. I’m attracted to him and afraid of him. My fear of being hurt again feels paralyzing. I decide to stay, partially because it requires the least amount of effort.

  Luke tells me he’s made plans for us this evening, but he’s keeping it a surprise. My attempts to convince him to tell me where we’re going only succeeds in adding to his enjoyment of the situation.

  “At least tell me what I should wear,” I say, mock frustrated.

  “I vote for nothing.” I punch him in his arm, and he laughs. “Jeans and heels.” He pretends to tend to his injured arm. I’m guessing any shoes would be fine, but he’s always had a thing for heels.

  He smiles at the building security guard as we approach.

  “Good morning, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Good morning, Gus. You agreed to start calling me Luke.”

  “Sure thing, Mr. Taylor.”

  Luke laughs, and we step into the elevator. “Unfortunately, I have work I have to finish today. I tried to get it done last night, but there are a few more items that can’t wait until Monday.” Luke pushes the button that will send us up to his apartment.

  “Not a problem.” I could use some quiet time.

  “I planned on us having an uninterrupted weekend, but one of our companies experienced unexpected personnel changes, and everyone went into crisis management mode.”

  “I understand, and it’s fine.”

  “I can have Dean drive you wherever you’d like to go,” Luke offers. He feels guilty, but he doesn’t need to.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll just relax.”

  He retreats to his office, and I take a long, steaming bath and read several chapters of a book on my phone. I add hot water more than once. My fingers and toes are shriveled by the time I drag myself out. I select a pair of fitted jeans, a low-cut black silk top, and a pair of black strappy heels. I have to admit his assistant has great taste. I still have time to spare, so I curl my hair. I’m halfway through when I remember Luke used to like my hair curled. I retrieve a small black purse from the closet and put my cell phone, ID, credit card, and lipstick inside.

  When I enter the living room, I don’t see him right away. I spot him standing by the large windows in the dining room. He appears deep in thought and hasn’t noticed me yet. If I take another step, he will hear me and turn around, so I freeze. I want a minute to enjoy him. He is refined but casual. His jeans and dark blue sweater fit perfectly, like all his clothes.

  He catches my reflection in the window and turns around. “Adams,” he breathes out at the sight of me. I’ve come to accept his use of my maiden name as a term of endearment.

  “I’m ready to go,” I blurt.

  “Okay.” He winks.

  I catch him watching me several times on our way downstairs. He must have already given the driver instructions, because he doesn’t say anything to him when we get in the car. I’m disappointed. I was hoping to get a clue to our destination.

  Once we’re on our way, Luke starts talking. “My plan is to not compliment you too much tonight. It seems to make you uncomfortable, and I want you to have fun.” Luke smiles at me and widens his eyes. “Although you’re definitely not making this any easier for me when you show up looking like that.”

  “Thank you.” I decided during my bath that my goal this evening is to try to be as relaxed as possible. It’s my hope that an evening without emotional drama will give me perspective.

  “You’re welcome.” Luke taps his foot.

  “Still not going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope. Foreplay is half the fun.”

  “You’re terrible. I thought you wanted me to relax.” I frown at him in an over-exaggerated way. Our playfulness is helping me feel more at ease.

  “Sorry, I’ll try harder.” He tries to suppress it, but the corners of his mouth curl up slightly.

  He asks questions about Amelia and my work, two topics I’m most confident discussing. I’m sure they weren’t chosen by accident. His strategy works, and I’m more comfortable with him already. I’m telling him about the time Amelia tried to save a stray dog by bringing him into our house when his phone rings.

  “Don’t stop.” He turns off his phone.

  “You can get that. I don’t mind.”

  “It was Aaron. I can talk to him tomorrow. Tonight I want to focus on…oh wait, that’s right. You don’t know where we’re going,” he teases.

  We’ve only been driving for twenty minutes or so when the driver exits the freeway. I eagerly try to determine where we are.

  We pull into the parking lot of Oracle Arena, so I assume we’re going to a basketball game. It’s an unexpected date choice since I don’t follow the game, but it should still be a fun evening. As soon as I see the marquee, I understand why he’s been keeping tonight under wraps.

  “I saw they were playing, and I know you like them.” Luke attempts to sound nonchalant about bringing me here tonight.

  I nervously pick at my nails.

  “If this is too much, we can simply go to dinner or go do something else.”

  He knows this is too much, but he also knows I’m not going to say no to a Maroon 5 concert. He’s not playing fair.

  “This is great. I do love them. Thank you.” I give him a wide smile and place a hand on my knee t
o stop it from bouncing. Even though I worry what this night will do to me, I can’t help but be excited.

  The driver drops us off, and we find our seats. I’m not surprised they’re on the floor. We still have thirty minutes before the show begins, so we hit the bar. We order gin and tonics. I down my first one. Its burn is welcome and distracts me from my feelings.

  We return to our seats as the lights go down, and the opening act takes the stage. They are a local band I’m not familiar with, but they’re good, and I enjoy their set.

  During intermission, we return to the bar for more drinks. We pass people our age wearing concert T-shirts from back when we were in high school, complete with jeans that obviously date back to that era. We laugh, reminiscing about what we wore back then. The night is going better than I expected, and I’m more at ease than I had hoped. I’m glad I didn’t go home today, and I’m happy Luke planned this date.

  We return to our seats once again as the lights are dimming. Maroon 5 takes the stage. They play, and I dance and sing along to every song. During their older songs, I feel like I’ve been transported back to my teen years. I experience the excitement, the rush, the confusion, the angst…all of it. It’s overwhelming, but I breathe through it, taking it all in. I let go and allow myself to get immersed in the music. It makes me feel alive, like myself again. I haven’t felt like this in a long time.

  They haven’t played it yet, but I know what song is coming up. I know what it will bring to the surface. I don’t want this night to be ruined because of another emotional display by me, so I decide it’s a good time to excuse myself to the restroom.

  I’m finishing up when the familiar notes fill the air. It’s our song. “She Will be Loved” was playing when we danced and he whispered for the first time that he loved me. Even in a room full of students and teachers, it was the most intimate, romantic moment of my fifteen-year-old life. I still can’t hear the song without remembering that night. I listen to the words. As a teenager, I focused on the chorus. I took the words at face value and interpreted them as an expression of Luke’s love for me. Presently, the plea to not try so hard to say goodbye stands out more. When the song ends, I compose myself and make my way back to him.