March 6, nine years ago

 

I sat at a table in the back corner of Doyle’s watching the room.  My best friend and teammate, Chris, Josh and David, friends from high school, and Luke and Sean, two other teammates, came with me tonight and were talking about today’s game.  We weren’t supposed to go out during the season, but the guys were too easy to talk into breaking that rule.  We had to try to blend so coach didn’t find out we were here.  That would not end well.

The beer I was nursing was getting steadily warm and was doing nothing to help me relax.  I tried to look like I was listening to their conversation, nodding occasionally and laughing when they did, but I was focused on the entrance, waiting for her to appear.

It was cold for March, and Doyle’s was always cold, especially since I wasn’t really drinking.  I dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but I was glad I wore my favorite Astros hoodie.  I actually had other clothes picked out, but I didn’t want to dress up to go to a bar.  My friends would have known something was weird.  They had no clue why we were really here.

It was nearing 11:30 p.m. and no sign of her yet.  I started to get worried that Etta had talked her sister into going somewhere else.  I sincerely hoped she hadn’t.  I had been thinking of her lips for 36 hours.  I wanted that kiss.  I really wanted more than one.

I watched Jackson stand at the bar.  I debated telling him to back off, and knowing Jackson, I was pretty sure he would have.  Embarrassment kept me rooted to the chair.  I didn’t want to look like the total pussy I felt like for allowing a girl, no matter how perfect she was, to affect me the way Etta Sullivan had. 

I have never had to pursue a girl.  Not that I’m bragging, but girls were never something I had trouble finding.  I mean they didn’t necessarily flock to me, but I’d never had to work to get a girl interested.  It helped that I wasn’t ugly; girls had called me everything from really cute to totally fuckable.  I had a good body, which I worked incredibly hard to maintain.  And I was a pretty good athlete.  I didn’t really have time for dating, so I was starting to really like the no-strings-attached hook ups that the girls in college offered.  I’d enjoyed more than a couple of those.

I didn’t want Etta to be just a random hook up.  Yet here I was planning to be her random guy.  Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.

Half of me wanted to just leave, walk out the door and give up completely on this fucked up plan.  Nathaniel Slaughter going all head case over some girl?  Total Pussy.

I had to give up, just get out of here and forget it.  I stood up and was just about to say goodbye to the guys.

Then she walked in the bar. 

Time slowed.  Cliché and stupid, I know, but it felt like it did.  I felt her presence down to my toes.

I watched her.  The way she moved… graceful and easy.  It was obvious to me she had been drinking already by the way she leaned into her friends, but she wasn’t stumbling or drunk, simply more relaxed.  I just watched her.  She was more subdued than the group around her, not in an uncomfortable way, more reserved yet no less self-assured.

She removed her jacket slowly, and she was dressed in tight-fitting, low-rise jeans and a low-cut sleeveless shirt that hit just below her waist showing hints of the smooth skin of the tops of her hips.  She seemed slightly self-conscious about the shirt, trying to stay covered up without anyone noticing.  But every once in a while, slight glimpses of her cleavage had me really wanting to see more.  I guessed, based on her level of discomfort, someone else picked out her clothes tonight.

Her loose curls were less wild, and from this distance, I could tell she was wearing more makeup than she had yesterday, but not too much.  She was stunning.

She was with five other girls, one of them obviously her twin sister, but also obviously not her identical twin.  Don’t get me wrong, her sister was hot, but in that overt, hit-you-over-the-head way that draws attention to her.  One of those girls who tried really hard to look like they weren’t trying too hard.  I’d been with several of those.

I searched the faces of the other girls in her group.  All were roughly the same age, all pretty in their own right, but none held my attention like Etta.  She was perfection.

The guys noticed the girls and got up to go talk to them.  I didn’t want that.  In order to be random, she couldn’t know I was there.  I wanted to surprise Etta.  I opted to go make my way to the bar unseen, first, to be closer to the action and second, to be more available when the time came. 

“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” Jackson said clapping me on the shoulder.  “I figured with all the drooling you were doing over her yesterday, you’d be here.  I’m glad you got the hint.”  He swallowed the rest of his beer.  “Now I can go home.”  He smiled at me.  “Good luck, Slaughter.  And again, you’re welcome.” 

Jackson the matchmaker.  Huh.  Who knew?

I turned to look at the clock over the bar.  Ten short minutes until kiss time.  I took a minute to plan how it would go down.  Should I cradle her face?  Should I slide my arms around her waist or her neck?  Run my hands in her hair?  Tongue, or was tongue too much?  Taking her in my arms and dipping her?  Dipping was good, romantic even. 

Romantic?  What the hell?  It’s a fucking kiss, not a stupid movie.  This girl is making me freaking sappy.

Watching without being noticed, and feeling a little like a stalker, I hid behind the guy next to me at the bar, staring around him.  The girls with Etta were laughing with my teammates, but she looked apprehensively around the bar, no doubt looking for Jackson.  I bowed my head when she scanned the bar for him.  I took the opportunity to re-check the clock.  Still five minutes to go.  When I glanced back in her direction, I looked directly into her eyes.  Fuck.  I’d been spotted.

She grinned, she actually grinned.  Trying to play it cool, I saluted her with my bottle and mouthed happy birthday to her.  She simply nodded once and looked down.  I swear she blushed, but the distance and the darkness of the bar made it hard to tell for sure.

Commotion started at their table.  The girls circled around her, and she emerged blindfolded.  They turned her around three times like this was some pin-the-tail game.  Her sister removed the blindfold and gently pushed her.  Her eyes searched for someone, but who?

They locked on mine.

Holy shit, she locked in on me. 

She moved slowly in my direction, eyes never wavering.  I stood like a dumbass glued to the spot.  She stopped about three feet from me, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

I quickly downed the rest of my beer and set the empty bottle on the bar behind me.  When I turned back around, someone was standing directly in front of me, blocking me from Etta and our amazing first kiss.  He was bent down, as if he was… No.  It took me a few moments to realize what was happening.  He was kissing my someone.

What.  The.  Hell. 

This asshole stole my kiss. 

My.  Kiss. 

I took a step to the side, and I recognized the asshole.  The same one who sat next to me the day before.  The same one who was such a crass jack hole about Etta.  The same one who was always in my way.  Ozzie Franklin.  Fuck nugget extraordinaire.

Oh.  Hell.  No.

He didn’t deserve her.

I couldn’t be certain, but she seemed to grunt and jerk back away from the kiss.  When she opened her eyes, she looked confused for a second until recognition settled.  She looked… deflated, slightly angry even, and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. 

She backed away and her eyes settled on me.  I tried to keep my face expressionless, deciding that showing my intense jealousy by punching Franklin in the face would not be a wise move if I had any chance in hell with her. 

She looked back at Franklin, covering her lips with her fingertips, and gave him a small smile of apology. 

“Sorry, Franklin.  I thought you were someone else.”  She turned to head back toward her table. 

He seized her upper arm, forcing her to turn back to him.  “Wow, Sullivan,” he slurred and moved in closer, running his fingers down to her elbow.  “You sure can kiss.”

I was just about to step in between them when she shuddered slightly, but before I could react, she grabbed his hand and threw it away from her arm.  “Yeah, that won’t be happening again,” she whispered menacingly.

He swallowed, stumbled slightly and stage whispered into her ear, “I bet you’d give a good blow job.”

I noticed that she raised her eyebrow and pushed him so hard that he stumbled backward into me.  “I’d offer you one, but I’m not sure how those ears would fit in my mouth.”  

He stood up swaying, squinting at her.  “Wait, did you just …”

“Call you a dickhead?  Yeah, I did.” Then she walked casually back to her cheering friends.

My girl was feisty.  Yes, I said my girl.

Franklin stood there staring after her for a few seconds before deciding to walk to a table of his friends.  A scantily clad, bleached blond bimbo threw her arms around his neck, but he pushed her off and downed his drink, all the while shooting daggers at Etta.  I decided right then to stay and watch out for her.  He was drunk, and I knew he was the type to show his full-strength-asshole self when alcohol was involved. 

I was afraid all she did was poke the beast.

Commotion came from the girls’ table again, which must have meant it was Etta’s sister’s turn.  I was too focused on the scowling jerk to watch, so it was too late to rebuff the kiss planted on the side of my mouth by the sister.  Her lips made very brief contact, then she pushed herself back.  I looked over her head to see Etta’s mouth slightly open in surprise.  Was she hurt? 

I looked back into the smiling face of the girl who kissed me.  Similarities were more apparent this close up, shape of the face and the nose.  Etta’s lips were slightly fuller.  This girl had little rounder chin, and her hair was lighter, almost blonde with a slight red tint to it.  But the eyes… they were definitely not the same.  Emerald green ones looked at me instead of Etta’s stormy greenish blue.  These were pretty, but they were not even close to the speech-stealing, stupid-inducing color of her sister’s.

“Hi, I’m Emily,” she said in a low, hurried voice.  “I’ve been watching you and my sister watch each other since we’ve been here.  And I noticed your reaction when she kissed that knuckle-dragging mouth breather.  I know you’re into her.  I knew she would never come talk to you herself.”  I looked back at Emily’s smiling face.  “And since it seems you aren’t going to talk to her on your own either, I figured I would make a move for her.”  She smiled and hooked her hand around my elbow.  “So, now I’ve given you an excuse to join us.”  She stopped and looked at me.  “Who are you?”

“Nathaniel.”

“Really?”  She raised her eyebrows and looked me up and down, almost scrutinizing me.  “Humph,” she whispered,  “better than I expected.”  She led me to the table before I could ask what that meant.  “Everyone, this is Nathaniel.  I think you know the guys, so I’ll stick to the girls.”  She stood me right next to Etta and pointed to each person as she said their names.  “This is my best friend Vanessa.  That’s Sarah and her sister Samantha, my sister’s best friend Beth, and this,” she placed my hand in Etta’s, “is my sister, Eddie, but I think you two already met.”  Emily batted her eyes at me.  “Am I wrong?”

Etta looked at the ground. 

“No,” I answered, smiling when the gorgeous eyes met mine again.  “You’re not wrong.”

“Never am,” Emily mumbled as she walked away. 

“Eddie?”

“My nickname.  She’s called me that since we were kids.  I think she always wished I was a brother.”

“Is she always that pushy?” I asked, circling the back of her hand with my thumb.

She sighed.  “Unfortunately, yes.  And she always gets her way.  See how we’re here?  Spending my birthday in a bar is so not my style.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met twins with different birthdays before.  Does that suck?”

“No,” Etta said, letting go of my hand to push her hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear.  “It’s actually kind of cool.  We, well until this year, always had separate birthday parties.  My mom kind of insisted on it.  Said she wanted us to have separate interests and become our own identities.  She never let us dress alike or anything like that either.”

“So then why did you let your sister dress you tonight?”

“How did you know she…” she looked down at her shirt and adjusted it.  She looked back up at me with a half-smile on her face.  “She’s pushy, remember?”

“But you aren’t identical twins.  Not looking exactly alike makes it easier to be your own person, doesn’t it?”

“My mom was a twin, and she grew up in twin hell.  She thought we were identical at first and didn’t find out we weren’t until we were about three.  The doctor thought we might be an actual set of polar twins.  It’s where the egg splits and is fertilized by two different sperm.  It’s super rare, so it’s really not ever been proven.    In fact, in all the research I’ve done, I’ve never found proof that polar twins are a real thing.  I think the doctor was just covering since he told my mom we were identical from the start.  But mom tells everyone that’s what we are.”  She sneered before adding,  “And Em does have different hair and eye color, and she is a little taller than I am.  I try not to be bitter about that last part.”

“You shouldn’t,” I admitted.  “You win, since you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

She smirked and poked her finger in my chest.  “Was that a line, Slaughter?”

“Nope.”  I grabbed her hand, brought it up to graze her knuckles with my lips, and gave her my full on sexy smile.  “That was the God’s honest truth.”

This time, there was no mistaking it.  I made her blush.

 

***

 

The group decided to go shoot a few rounds of pool at the two empty pool tables in the back of the bar.  Etta and I joined them.  Watching her bend over the pool table about drove me insane, but talking to her was as easy as breathing.  We laughed a lot, too, which only made me want her more.  As the evening progressed, I noticed she became more comfortable with me, but her frequent touches on my arms and brushes of any part of her body against mine set me on fire. 

Five teams meant one couple had to sit out per round.  It was finally our turn to sit out, so we moved to one of those high standing bar tables in the corner.  As we talked, she moved closer to me.  I was conscious of our every movement.  My right hand was casually on her waist and her left thigh pushed into my right.  Our heads mere inches apart, I reached up with my left hand and moved that piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  I trailed my fingertips down her cheek to her chin.

“You know,” I whispered in her ear, “I really wanted to be your random kiss.”

She looked up at me through her lashes and licked her lips; it made me hard.  “I know.”  She took a step back and smiled.  “But hold that thought.  I need to go to the restroom.”

I nodded.  “I’ll walk with you.  I really don’t like you going back there alone.”

She laughed and patted my arm.  “Thanks, Mr. Flintstone, but I think I can handle going to the bathroom all by myself.”  She walked away, and although I enjoyed the view, I felt her absence immediately.  This was ridiculous. 

I walked over to the pool tables to watch the game.  Emily came to stand beside me.

“Things are going well, I see,” she gloated. 

“Yeah.  I really like your sister.”

“I can tell she likes you, too.”  She smiled at me over her shoulder as she walked back to take her turn. 

Minutes passed.  No Etta.  I started to get a little annoyed that she was taking so long.  What the hell was she doing?  Did she bolt on me?  Was she really not interested? 

Then I remembered. 

The fuck nugget.

I quickly scanned the bar and saw the table where he sat earlier.  All his friends were there.  No Franklin. 

My heart surged to my throat. 

Without thinking, I practically ran to the restroom, bumping into several people on the way.  In this horribly designed bar, the restroom was nestled in a twisting hallway on the other side of the building from the pool tables.  After I hit the first turn, what I heard almost made me explode.

“No,” Etta sobbed.

“See, you little tease,” Franklin growled, slurring every syllable.  “When you kissed me like you did earlier, you weren’t telling me no.”  I heard something slam against a wall, something ripped, and she cried out.  “You say you won’t give me a blow job, so I’ll just take another kiss and see if you change your mind.  And then you’ll give me what I want.”

When I rounded the next turn, what I saw froze me momentarily because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  His enormous body pressed hers against the wall.  One of his hands clamped down on both of hers and held them above her head.  Her legs were pinned to the wall by his thicker thighs.  She was utterly helpless.  I started moving, but it felt like I was in slow motion.  Her panicked whimpers became louder each step I took. 

I saw her head jerk back.  The fucker yanked her hair.

I.  Saw.  Red.

That really got me moving.  I lunged at him, grabbed him by the back of the head and the back of the shirt, pulled him off her, and used my momentum to slam him against the wall. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Franklin?” I asked, my calm voice belying my fury.

“Taking what she offered.  No girl kisses like that and dresses like that if she’s not interested in giving it away.” 

I turned him around and pulled back and punched him in the stomach.  He doubled over, barely able to catch his breath.  I had never been in a fight before.  Hell, I’d never even raised my fist to my brother, but I kept hitting him, loving the feel of my fist slamming into him and relishing the noises of his anguished pain every time I connected with any part of his body.  I pulled back to punch him again in the face, but I felt Etta’s hand pulling on my arm.

“No, Nathaniel.”  I turned to look at her, still pinning Franklin against the wall.  Her shirt and bra were torn open and she was trying frantically to keep herself covered.  “He isn’t… Please, I just want to get out of here.”

I let go of Franklin and ripped my hoodie over my head.  I turned my head away from her and wrapped the sleeves over her shoulders.  “Put this on.”  I turned back to Franklin and bent over his body which had slid down the wall.  “No woman asks to get raped,” I said to him through clenched teeth.  He looked up at me with surprised eyes, blood trickling from his nose and mouth.  “That’s what you were about to do, weren’t you?” 

He shook his head. “I wasn’t…”

I kneeled on his bad knee until he winced in pain to shut him up.  “Think again.  She said no; you kept going.  And you fucking ripped her shirt open.”  He blinked his eyes and looked over her direction before looking back to me.  “Ask yourself this… would you have stopped?  Because it didn’t look like you were going to from where I was standing.”  He wiped his mouth and looked down at his hands now streaked with blood.  “Being drunk is no excuse.  And the push she gave you earlier and the warning that it wouldn’t happen again? That was not her ‘giving it away.’ That was her telling you to go away because she’s not interested.  I don’t care if a girl is standing naked in front of you.  If she says no, that means you stop.”  I pointed to the upper corner.  “See that?  Security cameras recorded this all.”  His eyes widened.  “How do you think it’s gonna look on that video?”  I grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him to his feet.  “If she decides, your ass will go down for a long time.”  I turned and looked at her, and she shook her head slightly and closed her eyes.  “Have your friends take you home, Franklin.  Sleep this shit off.”  I gripped his shirt tighter and led him down the hall.  “No matter what she decides, I might still tell coach,” I whispered in his ear, forcefully pushing him away.  Once he stumbled a few steps and rounded the corner, I turned back to Etta who was huddled next to the wall.

“Please tell me that fucker didn’t…”

She shook her head, and her face twisted into pain.  She rubbed her chest and gasped before she said, “No.”

“Are you hurt?” I asked, moving closer to her, not sure if it was okay to touch her.  The overwhelming need to take her in my arms and comfort her was hard to resist.

She shook her head again, but the wince she tried to conceal as she crossed her arms over her chest let me know she was lying. 

“I’ll take you to your sister.” 

I turned to walk, and she grabbed my arm.  “No, I don’t want her to know.”

I ran my hands through my hair.  “Okay.  Then what do you want?  I’ll do anything.”

She grabbed my arm desperately, never looking me in the eye.  “Just get me out of here, Nathaniel.  Please.”

“Okay.”  I wrapped my arms around her and felt her tense.  Quickly, I dropped my arms and led her down the hallway.  “We at least need to tell your sister we’re leaving.  Can you pull it together enough to face them?”

“Yeah.  I think so.”

I stopped in front of her.  “Etta.”  I waited for her to look up at me.  “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She looked down.  “I’ll be fine.”

I stood there for a minute debating what to do.  I tentatively grabbed her hand, thrilled that she let me, and led her back to our friends.

I don’t even remember what we said to everyone, or if we even said anything.  She gathered her stuff.  At that point, I didn’t care about stuff.  I didn’t care about her sister or our friends.  I didn’t care how Josh and David would get back to my apartment.  I didn’t care about what anyone thought.  All I could focus on was getting Etta out of that bar. 

I tore out of the parking lot and drove, not really sure where to take her.  She stared out the window, her arms wrapped protectively around herself.  I really wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but I didn’t want my touches reminding her of his.  I didn’t want her to be alone, but beyond that, I really didn’t know what to do. 

“Wanna talk?” I asked, trying to keep her from shutting down.

She wiped her face and turned toward me.  “No.”  Looking down at her hands, she shook her head.  “I’m okay.” 

It was almost 2:00 a.m.  Despite Houston’s size and major-city status, it doesn’t really offer many safe, non-partying options that early in the morning.  I opted for the all-night diner not too far from where we were that was known for ice cream.  When I parked and turned off the car, she looked at me.

“I didn’t think you wanted to go back to my place, and ice cream sounded good.”

She gave me a weak smile.  “Seriously, you really brought me for ice cream?”

“I learned it from my mom.  It’s the all-around comfort food, right?  She had a different flavor for every problem.”

I got out of the car and rounded it to her side.  I opened the door for her. 

“What’s the flavor for this situation?” she asked, trying to make a joke.

“I’m not sure,” I smiled.  “Since I don’t think I’ve ever been through this, I’ll let you decide.  I figured you needed a distraction right now.  It can’t hurt, right?”

She got out of the car and followed me inside.

We sat in a booth and ate ice cream and talked.  Well, mostly I talked.  I just wanted to take her mind off the last hour, get her out of her own head for a little while.  I told her about Jacob and stories about our childhood.  I told her about my upbringing, my parents and grandparents, vacations we took, and silly things about my past.  She listened, asking questions periodically.  She even laughed a few times.  After a few hours, she sank into the wall beside her, brought her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

“You look tired.”  She nodded her head and yawned.  “Where do you want me to take you?”

“Back to my dorm.  I just need some sleep.”

“I don’t like the thought of you being alone right now,” I admitted. 

“My roommate is there.  She never goes anywhere.”  The corners of her mouth turned up in an attempt to smile.  “I’ll be fine.”

I looked down at my hands.  “I wish you’d have let me hurt him more.”

“He wasn’t worth it.”  She squeezed her eyes shut.  “He was just… drunk.”

“Don’t do that.  I meant it when I said that wasn’t an excuse.”  I stared at her for a minute.  “What are you going to do about him?”

She sighed and looked away from me.  “I don’t know,” she whispered.  “No one has ever made me feel so…”  She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.  “I just want to forget.”

I knew that would be easier said than done.

We rode back to campus quietly.  All the freshmen athletes and trainers lived in the same dorm, and since I lived in it last year, I drove straight there.  I parked and watched her eyes fill with tears. 

“Don’t.”  I instructed quietly.  She looked at me questioningly.  “Don’t start thinking for a second that this was your fault.”  I waited for her to answer, but she didn’t.  “You did nothing wrong, Etta.”  She nodded her head, but it was unconvincing.  “Look, I know you said you want to forget, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to talk to someone… maybe a professional, about this.  And I still think you should turn him in.”

She nodded.  “I’m so sorry, Nathaniel,” she whispered.  She looked so broken and humiliated.  My heart broke.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She got out of the car.  I hurried around to her side and stood in front of her.  She wiped her face and gave me a teary half-smile.  “That kiss should have been yours.”  She walked toward the building.  “It should have been yours.” 

I followed her inside.  At the stairs, she turned and grabbed my hand.  “Thank you.  You’ve been a perfect friend tonight.”  She rose up on her toes and kissed my cheek quickly.  “But right now, it’s all we can be.”  She looked down and stepped away from me.  “And that’s what I’m sorry for.”  She turned and walked up the stairs, taking a broken piece of my heart with her.