Crush

“Goddammit, Lucy Larson!” he shouted. “No, we’re not! And that’s that, so stop talking about crossroads. In fact, just stop talking, because everything that’s coming out of your mouth is plain crazy!”

I felt tears pricking to the surface and I wasn’t going to let them fall here. “You’re a real ass sometimes, you know that?” I said, before running across the enormous foyer, heading toward the back of the house. I needed to get away from Jude, get some fresh air, and get my mind-set straight again. I was a mess and was only going to get messier if I stayed in the same room with him for another minute.

I heard Jude curse at the top of his lungs before his footsteps sounded behind me. “Wait, Luce,” he said, but I couldn’t. Not this time.

Racing down a hall, I came around a corner into another giant room. Rushing through it, I headed for the double doors that I assumed led outside.

Fresh air. A minute to think.

Shoving through the door, I found myself, presumably, in the backyard. But this was a backyard like no other. Like the house, it was spacious and elaborate. The “lagoon” I’d heard soooo much about was in front of me. There was a natural rock feature coming out of the center of it, featuring slides going into the pool. It reminded me of the pool at the hotel we’d stayed at in the Bahamas when I was ten. My brother and I couldn’t be pulled away from that thing the whole week.

Behind the pool there was another building, this one more the size of a regular house. I guessed it was the pool house. I heard Jude’s footsteps approaching, but I wasn’t ready for him. He liked to talk things out first, think them out later. I was exactly the opposite, and I knew, given the heated topic, if we picked up where we left off before I had a couple hours to cool down, another screaming match would ensue.

I might not have matured enough to keep from yelling, but I was wise enough to try to avoid it when I could.

Striding across the back patio, I hoped whatever part of the backyard was behind the next turn would provide some temporary shelter or hiding place. The instant I turned, I knew peace and quiet wouldn’t be on the agenda tonight.

Milling about a sprawling patio were a few dozen bodies. Drinks in hand, chatting with one another, they didn’t notice me at first.

And then Jude came racing around the corner, still yelling my name.

Then they noticed me.

“What the—”

“F—” What I started, Jude finished.

EIGHT

“Wow. We suck at throwing a surprise party.” A guy who looked like he could bench a semi truck came forward with a couple champagne glasses in hand.

I was still trying to determine whether I’d landed in Oz when the giant, whose shoulders and strut gave him away as a starting linebacker, handed me a glass. I took it automatically, trying to ignore everyone looking at me like I was an experiment gone wrong.

“We might have screwed up the surprise part, but we certainly won’t screw up the ‘party’ part.” The giant handed the other glass to Jude, then slid a flask out of his jacket pocket. Unscrewing the cap, he lifted it. “To the new master and mistress of this California castle. May the parties be wild and the sex even wilder.” Winking back at us, he shouted, “Cheers!”

A chorus of, “Cheers!” exploded, but I was beyond words. Even one-syllable ones. I wasn’t sure what twilight zone I’d found myself in, but I wanted out.

Now.

“Terrell,” Jude said, coming up behind me. I could feel the heat from his body, he was that close, and I wanted to have those arms hold me right now so badly . . . so I took a couple steps away. I both was and wasn’t ready for his arms around me. “What the hell is this?” Jude didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t happy either.

“An attempt at a surprise party,” Terrell replied. “The team wanted to christen your new crib accordingly. And what says christening better than thirty of your rowdy teammates, their hot wives, girlfriends, mistresses, dates, and everything else in between”—his eyebrows waggled in suggestion—“and booze.”

Behind me, Jude sighed. He sounded as tired as I felt.

“Plus, we wanted to meet the infamous Lucy,” Terrell continued, smiling at me. “I’m the guy who keeps your man from getting his ass sacked, Lucy,” he said, extending his hand. It was so big, it swallowed mine whole. “Our QB here assumes it’s his fancy moves, and not mine, that will keep him from going down, but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Terrell leaned in. “He’s wrong.”

A round of laughter went through the crowd.

“Jude makes a lot of assumptions,” I said, giving him a pointed look.

Terrell stared between me and Jude before grabbing the glass from Jude’s hand and steering him toward a table with more bottles of alcohol than there were people in attendance. “You need something stronger than this, I’m guessing.” Jude looked back at me but stayed with Terrell. The Jude I knew wouldn’t have let anyone pull him away from me. Especially when I was upset and uncomfortable.

“Ladies!” Terrell hollered. “Make Lucy one of the gang.”

I stood there for a few more moments, feeling like I was the last person to be picked for kickball, when one of the girls stepped away from the player she was with and approached. She wasn’t dressed like the others, who adhered to the shorter-is-better policy when it came to dress selection. She was sporting an airy wrap dress and gold sandals, and, unlike the rest of the female faces staring at me like I was gum on the bottom of a shoe, she had a smile on her face. A genuine smile.