Chapter 24
September 29th
Today’s Schedule: Film walking workout at Deveraux Estate, Highland Park, 7:30 AM
Training Session with CiCi, 8:30 AM
BBQ with JP at the Flynn House, Highland Park, 7 PM
“My hamstrings are already starting to feel better,” CiCi declares as she rolls up her mat. “You are extremely good at what you do.”
We’re in the great room at her estate, where I just finished guiding CiCi through a morning stretch focusing on her hips and hamstrings.
“I’m glad the stretches are working,” I say. “Thank you so much for letting me film that walking workout outside by the pool. It’s such a beautiful backdrop.”
It truly is, with exceptional landscaping and vibrant flowers surrounding it. The workout is an easy-paced one, perfect for beginners or those wanting a light cardio day, and I think the setting is perfect for a walking video.
“You’ve already thanked me,” CiCi says, smiling at me. “Peter doesn’t mind if it makes me happy and helping you does make me happy.”
“Thank you.”
“I bet helping you makes The Swiss One happy as well,” CiCi says.
I bite my lip. The Swiss One returned late last night from Denver, but I haven’t heard from him yet this morning, which is weird.
Especially since I sent him a “good morning” text.
Maybe this is how he is when he’s playing.
Or maybe while on the road he re-evaluated things and decided he wants to truly be casual.
Which could mean not seeing me as much.
Or not at all.
My stomach knots at the thought. I push the fear aside and bend down on the floor. I open my duffel bag, retrieve my phone, and check it.
No new messages.
“What’s wrong?” CiCi asks, taking a sip of her bottled water.
“What? Oh, nothing,” I say, smiling brightly at her.
“I’ve raised two daughters, Reese. I know when something’s wrong.”
I rise. I can tell my own mom was too distracted with her personal crisis with Dad to notice I was falling apart inside, whereas CiCi is acutely aware if something is even slightly weighing on me.
I see concern in her vivid blue eyes, and I find myself wanting to hear her opinion.
“This is going to sound insecure and stupid,” I admit, “but JP and I talk all the time. You know, texts and sending pics, stuff like that. And I haven’t heard from him since last night. In the morning he always texts me, and today he hasn’t. I mean, he had a flight last night, and maybe he’s different during the season, so I’m being dumb. Actually, I’m paranoid. I sound needy. Forget I said anything. Never mind.”
I pick up my duffel bag, as I’ve already loaded my video equipment into my car, and force a smile on my face.
“I know you have a million things to do, so I’ll get out of your hair.”
“You will do no such thing.”
I pause, and a determined expression passes over CiCi’s face. “You are going to go sit at the kitchen table and listen to me over a cup of coffee.”
I can tell no is not an option. When CiCi Hunter tells you to sit down and have a cup of coffee, you do just that.
“Aga?” she calls out.
“Yes, Ms. Hunter?” Aga says, stepping into the room.
“Will you please prepare some coffee? I’ll take mine black, of course. Reese?”
“With any kind of milk, please,” I say. “Thank you.”
“We have cashew milk, almond milk, and coconut milk,” Aga says. “Ms. Bella is allergic to dairy. Oh, Ms. Hunter, would you like me to try hemp milk as well? I don’t believe she’s tried that yet.”
“Yes, I want my little princess to have all the options,” CiCi says.
“I’ll get some today. Ms. Brannon, what milk would you like?”
“Coconut, please.”
“Very well. I’ll get those right out,” Aga says, retreating to the kitchen.
CiCi grins at me. “You can see why I told Peter when I agreed to move in with him this summer that I would not sell my house and come without Aga. She’s a gem. Now, let’s go have a seat.”
We follow behind Aga, and I sit with CiCi at the kitchen table, which overlooks the terraced gardens outside.
“I wouldn’t worry about not receiving a text,” CiCi says simply. “I don’t think you are the type of woman to worry over one, either. Unless you are afraid of something.”
I fixate on the tabletop, not wanting to meet her gaze.
“Reese, look at me.”
I lift my head.
“What are you afraid of?” she asks.
I swallow hard. “I’m starting to let him in. I don’t do that, CiCi. I hate feeling vulnerable. I’ve never wanted to let anyone in like I do with JP, but I’m scared. I don’t want to be hurt. What if he’s changing his mind? We agreed to be casual, which means he could see someone else.”
“The real issue isn’t that he didn’t return a text, but that you’re afraid he’s going to leave at some point.”
My heart feels like ice in my chest. “Yes,” I whisper.
“When I went through the issues in my marriage,” CiCi says slowly, “I wasn’t always open about what my problems were. When my ex left, I was gutted. Absolutely gutted.”
I furrow my brow. I can’t picture CiCi like that, not at all.
“It’s true. Isn’t it, Aga?” she says, glancing at Aga who is working some expensive coffeehouse-type machine in the kitchen.
“It’s true,” Aga says, nodding. “She wouldn’t get out of her robe, she was so depressed.”
CiCi turns back to me. “For a long time, I didn’t trust any man. I was never going to be vulnerable to that pain again. I closed myself off. I gave Kenley horrible advice about Nate, telling her not to trust him, either, which I deeply regret now as Nate is a wonderful man who didn’t deserve my mistrust. If she would have listened to me, she would have lost him.”
“I can’t see this,” I admit, amazed at what she is telling me.
“Of course not, I’m not that woman anymore,” CiCi says. “I saw a life coach. I changed my attitude. I realized I was missing a lot by being shut off. I learned to open myself up. Then I found Peter.”
A smile passes over her face, and I know that smile. It’s for Peter.
The man who was worth the risk.
“You can stay protected, Reese, but you’ll be isolated and miss out on so much love.”
She reaches across the table and puts her hand over mine, and tears prick my eyes at the kind gesture.
“You need to talk to JP when things bother you. Talk about what you want. If you are brave enough to face hurt, you can be open to accepting all kinds of love. Love does not come without risk, but a good life doesn’t come from putting a wall around your emotions.”
Aga quietly places two cups of coffee between us, and I’m doing all I can not to cry.
“What if I can’t do it?” I ask, my voice thick with unshed tears.
“I believe in you,” CiCi says gently. “When your heart is ready, you’ll be brave.”
I stare down at my coffee cup as her words roll around in my head.
I pray with all my heart she’s right.
~ ~ ~
Something is not right with JP.
I’m on the verge of throwing up as I park my car down the street from Harrison and Kylie’s house in Highland Park. He finally responded to my good morning text in the afternoon, saying he had a lot of errands to run and it would probably be easier to meet up at Harrison’s party.
And that was it.
I blink back tears.
That’s not my JP.
JP has never been short with texts, and we talked about going to this party together a few days ago.
But he’s not my JP, I remind myself.
Tears fill my eyes, and going back to my childhood, I use all my willpower not to let them fall. I’m good at this. I’m good at hiding how I feel.
I swallow hard as thoughts race through my head. He’s pulling back. I can feel it. Within a blink of an eye, JP has gone from wanting to be with me to slipping away. I go over and over everything in my head, looking for answers. Did I say too much? Or not enough? Show too much affection? Is it because we had sex, and he doesn’t want me getting too attached as a result?
My phone chimes with a weather alert. I have it set to notify me when storms are rolling in, and I know there are supposed to be some monster ones tonight. I was going to ask JP if we could leave early because one of my biggest fears is being stuck driving in a storm.
I guess I can leave whenever I want now, I think as my chest pulls tight.
I take a moment to push everything down, which usually works.
Except this time.
I’m sick.
I’m scared.
I have no idea what to expect when I see him inside.
I force myself to get out of the car. The skies are getting darker, and clouds are rolling by. My anxiety increases as I study them. There will be storms tonight; there is no doubt.
The question is: How many of them will I be facing?
As I head up the street, I see JP’s Maserati. I stop walking, a cold chill sweeping over me.
He’s here.
And he didn’t want to come with me.
Fear is replaced by anger. I deserve better than this. The JP of a few days ago wouldn’t be avoiding me. If he’s changed his mind, he should tell me. I know our rules. I wouldn’t make his life hell or go crazy. I’d be crushed. I’d be heartbroken.
I wouldn’t put any of that on him if he treated me with some common respect.
Now I march to the door with purpose. There’s a note attached to the doorbell, welcoming guests and telling them to come inside.
I open the door and hear laughter coming from down the hall. I move to the kitchen and find familiar faces. Kylie is chopping vegetables at the counter, and Kenley is hanging out next to her. I don’t see Holly; she must not be here yet. I recognize some of the women from the game the other night, including Emma.
“Hey, Reese,” Kylie calls out, a smile lighting up her face. “So glad you can make it. JP is out back with the other guys.”
“They are strangely fascinated with grilling,” Kenley quips.
“I remember someone who bonded with Nate over grilling,” Kylie teases.
Kenley laughs, and obviously, there’s a story there. “Oh my gosh, I forgot about that.”
“We didn’t,” Lexi Stewart, Kenley’s best friend, says. She shifts her gaze to me. “Good to see you again, Reese.”
“You too,” I say, glancing out the back window.
Normally, I’d start chatting, asking Kenley to tell me her story about Nate, or talking with Lexi about her fiancé, Niko, who is the television producer for the Dallas Demons, and seeing if Kylie needed some help.
But, instead, I need to face JP.
“I’m going to go out back for a second. I’ll be right back,” I say, forcing my voice to sound casual.
“Harrison has some sangria out there. You should get some,” Kylie says, going back to slicing a cucumber. “It’s so good. Or wicked good, as Harrison would say.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I go to the back door and open it, stepping out into the outdoor kitchen. I see Harrison and Nate at the grill. Easton Shaw, the second ginger on the team now besides Harrison, is talking with Niko Xenakis and Tanner Peck, and I can feel Easton staring at me as I’m standing there.
Then I spot JP.
I freeze.
I feel as though someone has taken a knife and run it through my heart.
Because JP is engrossed in conversation with a beautiful blond.
I begin to shake.
I’m going to puke.
He’s smiling at her, then he dips his head down lower as she talks animatedly with her hands, and then he throws his head back and laughs.
Just like he did with me a few days ago.
I can’t make sense of this. I can’t believe this is happening.
But it is.
JP wanted casual.
And now he wants someone else.
JP must feel my gaze because his attention shifts to me.
The smile falls off his face.
Oh, God.
It’s over.
And I don’t know how I’m going to survive it.