Bess
Twisted in the covers, Brooks hot and heavy on top of the comforter, I was in the middle of a very graphic dream when the sound of my phone ringing dragged me back to reality. I swiped the CALL button without looking and murmured hello as I rubbed my eyes, then pushed up to lean against the headboard.
“Bess! Thank fucking God you answered. I was about to bang down your door.”
“AJ, hi,” was all I could muster, my voice sounding breathy and guilty. I felt like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
“Hi, you okay? Where’ve you been? Was work okay? I tried to get a hold of you all day yesterday. I thought you mighta come over after your shift.”
As if I could do that . . . after the kiss.
I rubbed my hand over my face, then slid it down and gave Brooks a scratch on the head as I said, “Yeah, everything is fine. It was just a long day and I was exhausted. All I did was come home and collapse into my bed.”
“Well, Christ fucking almighty, I was worried. I’m outside. I’ve got your gift, and some coffee,” he said, and I could hear the snow crunching under his boots in the background.
“Oh. Well, one sec. Let me throw on a sweatshirt and I’ll be right there.”
I disconnected the call and grabbed a ratty old Pitt hoodie, throwing it on over my tank and my tattoo. After sliding into my boots, I opened the door and shoved my hands in the big front pocket of my sweatshirt as I stepped out onto the porch with Brooks in tow, my pajama pants billowing in the wind.
My dog abandoned me, running down the hill to a tree to relieve himself at the same time AJ pulled me into his arms and breathed in my scent deeply.
“I’m sorry, Bess. So sorry, I was hard on you. I pushed too much, too hard. I know. Can you forgive me?” His hand dug into my arm, locking me in his embrace as he continued to inhale me.
After wrestling loose a bit, I looked up and caught the fever in AJ’s eyes. They were searing with passion and need—for me. A shiver ran right through me. I’d never been so desired as now. And last night.
By two different men.
I swallowed my feelings and spoke. “It’s okay, AJ. I’m fine—we’re fine—but I just can’t go as fast as you. I need my space, and I need to work. It calms me.”
His scruff from the day before grazed my forehead, his nicotine smell tickling my nose as he pulled me close again. “Yeah, I get it, baby. Like I said, I pushed too hard.”
“And all those texts? You can’t do that, AJ,” I said into his broad chest.
He stepped back and stared me down. “I know.”
He turned back to the steps and went to his truck, grabbing two coffees off the hood before saying, “Forgive me?” while looking at me with puppy-dog eyes.
I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stay warm. Done with his business, Brooks stood on the porch next to me, looking up at me with his own big brown eyes, trying to will me to feed him.
“Come on.” I opened the door and let AJ in, taking one of the coffees from him as we crossed the threshold. Brooks trotted in behind us, his tail wagging.
I took a long sip before putting some food in Brooks’s bowl. As my dog began to munch away, AJ sidled close again. I was leaning against the counter, drinking my coffee, and he came right up to me and caged me in while setting his cup down behind me. He ran his nose along mine and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Bess,” and then he kissed me. He kissed me hard, his lips closed, as if he was sealing us together.
It was such a déjà vu feeling, framed the same way I’d been the evening before against the locker room door. But this time I wasn’t falling or floating; this time I simply felt trapped.
Yanking myself back to reality, I took a deep breath or twenty. I was having trouble filling my lungs with oxygen.
“I’m sorry, AJ. I’m not myself. It must be the holidays and everything. I had to serve a lot of booze last night at dinner, and I guess it got to me.” There I went again, using my addiction as an excuse.
Actually, a blue-eyed, dark-haired guy got to me.
“Oh shit. I should’ve figured or asked.” AJ cradled his head in his palms, looking up at the ceiling as he murmured, “Shit, shit, shit.” Then he turned to face me and said, “We should get you a new sponsor. I’m too close to everything now.”
“No!” I yelled. I didn’t want anyone else in my life. I had enough issues, and had no desire to get close with another stranger.
“Shh, calm down,” he said as he leaned in and kissed my cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, sugar baby.”
What was with the sugar?
I didn’t have time to dwell on anything because with those words, he dipped his hand in his pocket and came out with a little gift box.
“Here, open this.” He opened my palm, placing the gift there as he spoke.
My hand trembled. What was it? Jewelry?
I mumbled, “You didn’t have to,” and pulled the ribbon off in a swoop. It went fluttering to the floor like my heart had done less than twenty-four hours ago.
Carefully, I opened the box to find a silver key ring inside. It was a large circle with a few charms hanging off of it—a Labrador, a B, a snowflake—and an unknown key.
“It’s beautiful,” I said with a lump in my throat.
I leaned against the counter and AJ moved in again, but this time he didn’t cage me in. He stood in front of me, keeping his arms at his sides, and leaned in so he could speak in a hushed tone by my ear.
“I got it at the mall,” he said. “Picked the charms by myself. That’s the key for my place, so you can come by anytime you want. Morning, noon, or night, because you never have to ask. I always want to see you.”
The breath whooshed out from my lungs. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me, and I felt slightly tingly, but more prickly from guilt than happiness—guilt over feeling more tingly last night with Lane.
And not melting at the words just spoken to me.
I told myself I had to do something sweet in return, so I grabbed AJ and pulled him in for a hug, sealing my lips with his. Asking for open passage with my tongue, I swept it through his mouth and hoped to feel those melty feelings I thought I should be feeling.
Then my doorbell rang, and Brooks immediately went nuts. My quiet corner of the country had never been so busy.
I yelled, “Who is it?”
From the other side of the door, I heard, “It’s Oscar from the resort, Bess. I have a delivery.”
“What?” I mumbled to myself, and then called Brooks away from the door.
When I pulled the door open, Oscar from shipping and receiving stood out in the cold with a medium-sized box in his hands.
“Hey, Oscar. What’s this?” I asked while beckoning him to come in from the cold.
“I don’t know,” he said as he stepped inside. “Management asked me to run it over.” With a shrug, he handed the box to me.
Taking the package, I noticed the red ribbon dusted with silver sparkles and the small gift card on top. As I turned it over in my hands, assessing its weight and trying desperately not to shake it, I said, “Oh. This is strange, but thanks.”
Oscar stepped back, opened the door, and crossed the threshold as he called out, “’Bye,” but I didn’t really notice or care.
Because I was pretty certain I knew who the box was from, and I was equal parts scared to death . . . and dying to open it.