Authors: Harper Bentley
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction
I looked at him all dapper in his tux, just like on Prom night (damn my memory) but I couldn’t find it in me to tell him that he looked nice. Autopilot was my friend right then, and all I could do was go through the motions. Before I realized, he’d left.
I don’t know if it’s inside everyone, but I have this little masochistic streak that needs to be fed every so often, and because of this, I tuned into the broadcast of the party. I’d called everyone I could to let them know what’d happened and they’d all commiserated with me which just made me feel worse.
Sitting in my big IKEA chair, my legs thrown over one arm, I drank straight from the bottle of Macallans that Jag had gotten for his last birthday from one of his teammates, watching the damned gala live. If I wasn’t invited to the party, I’d just have to have one of my own, was my reasoning.
I had no idea there were that many underwear models in the world as I watched them all traipse across the red carpet waving at their fans who stood behind velvet ropes. The hosts interviewed the most well known models and I was surprised to see that some of them were halfway intelligent. Well, that was rude of me. I couldn’t let my dealings with one model in particular blemish my opinion of them all, I told myself.
Thirty minutes into the damned thing, I caught a glimpse of Jag shaking hands with the fans as he smiled at them. God, he was handsome, looking gorgeous in his tux. There were a couple of models lined up in front of him who were with their boyfriends or spouses waiting to get some face time with the emcees, so I had to wait a bit to see his interview. As the second model walked onto the little stage where the interviews were taking place, I finally caught sight of Jag. Who was standing with the stunning Alessandra. Holding her hand. And smiling down at her as they chatted.
What? Again, what?
My insides turned to ice as I sat up to watch what was happening right in front of my very eyes. I set the bottle of scotch on the coffee table and rubbed my eyes thinking I was probably drunk and just seeing things. But when I reopened them, nope, I’d seen everything as clear as day.
It was Jag and Alessandra’s turn in the spotlight then.
The male host spoke into his microphone. “So, Jag, how does it feel to be The Sexiest Athlete of the Year?”
Jag had been awarded that title by another publication earlier in the month and we’d laughed about it because it seemed like the kudos just kept coming.
“Well, Mark, I guess it feels all right. I mean, it’s better than being the ugliest athlete of the year, right?” Jag said with a chuckle.
Alessandra giggled at this and the emcee looked at her and asked, “Alessandra, how does it feel dating the Sexiest Athlete of the Year? I’m sure you’re having to beat the women off of your beau, huh?”
She was still holding Jag’s hand and brought her other hand up to caress his cheek then dropped it to rest against his chest. Oh. My. God.
“Oh, Mark, you know those women know better than to mess with my man,” she said, still giggling. “He only has eyes for me, though.” She looked up at Jag in adoration.
And Jag just smiled back at her. Um, what the fuck?
The host went on to ask Jag questions about how the season was going, but I didn’t hear anything that was being said as I watched Alessandra doting on Jag, straightening his bowtie and sweeping that hunk of hair that always hung on his forehead out of the way. Argh! Before they left the stage, the announcer asked one more question.
“So, you guys planning on anything long-term with your relationship?”
I heard Jag utter an “Uh” but Alessandra jumped in before he could say anything. “Yes, I think we look perfect together, don’t you think? I’d bet we’d make some beautiful babies, wouldn’t we, handsome?”
She looked up at Jag lovingly who nodded back. Had the world gone fucking mad? Wow.
Before they left the interview area, Jag released her hand. About damned time! But then he put his hand at the small of her back as he led her away making her look up at him and smile, and that’s when the first tear ran down my cheek.
My phone rang but I didn’t answer. I just sat there stunned then proceeded to drink half of the bottle before passing out.
I woke up and grimaced at the pounding in my head. Stupid Macallans. I was still in my chair, so I sat up and grabbed my phone out of my lap seeing that it was almost two in the morning. I also saw that I had seven missed calls, three from Rebecca, one from Gwen, one from Robbie and two from Jag.
“Jag?” I called but got no answer. Where was he?
I got up and went into the bedroom, but he wasn’t there. Jeez. Must’ve been one hell of a party. I came back into the living room and turned off the TV as I checked my voicemail. Rebecca was pissed and wanted me to call her. Robbie was pissed and wanted to murder Jag. And Jag had called to tell me that he’d be late and not to wait up for him.
I picked up the bottle of scotch and returned it to the cabinet when I heard someone talking loudly out in the hallway. I went to the door and looking through the peephole, saw Jag with his arm around Alessandra walking by. I unlocked the door and stepped out into the hall and screeched, “What the hell?”
Alessandra turned to me with a giggle as she wrapped her arms around Jag’s neck. “What’s the matter, little girlfriend? Jealous?” she said drunkenly.
If looks could kill, they’d have both dropped dead right about then. “Jag?” I said between clenched teeth.
“Hang on, El. Let me get her to her condo.”
I sighed to keep myself from screaming then nodded and went back inside. Ten minutes later he came inside and we both stood just staring at each other.
“Look, El…”
“What the fuck was that, Jag?”
“She was drunk. I had to get her home.”
My eyes bore into his. He knew what I was talking about and was avoiding it. “You know what I meant.”
His head went back, his hands went to his hips and he stood there studying the ceiling for a few minutes before looking back at me. “I’m tired of arguing about everything, El.”
And that’s when I lost it. “You’re tired? What about me? I got to stay home tonight and watch
my
boyfriend act like he’s another woman’s boyfriend! What the fuck
was
that? I’m so humiliated! All my friends watched you be an asshole tonight!”
His jaw clenched and that’s when he gave me the killing blow. “Maybe we should take a break, El.”
“Wh-what?” I asked with a gasp, shocked that he’d say something like that.
He rubbed his eyes with his palms then began, “You’re losing weight. You’re an emotional mess. Maybe you should go home and be with people who can be there for you. I’m never around and I know I’m not good for you right now.”
And that’s when I went manic on him.
“Don’t you dare stand there and pull a fucking
Twilight
on me, Jagger Jensen! You’re not good for me right now?” I huffed out a laugh. “Now that’s just
classic
! And I’m only an emotional mess because you’ve made me that way with not putting your fucking foot down and standing up to that asshole of an agent you have! You want me gone? Fine! I’m gone! So fuck you, Jag! Fuck you and fuck your goddamned ‘Sexiest Athlete of the Year’ bullshit! Fuck your career and fuck your fucking whore of a fucking fake girlfriend!”
I turned and ran into the bedroom, slamming and locking the door. I opened my phone and called Rebecca, and as I waited for her to answer, I heard Jag yell, “Fuck!” Then I heard the front door open and slam shut. I ended my call and raced out of the bedroom to the front door and out just in time to see Jag running to his car in the parking lot.
“Jag!” I called, not knowing what I’d even say if he came back, but he just turned and looked at me, the anguish in his eyes apparent, before getting into his Camaro, backing out and speeding off.
I flew home to Chicago the next afternoon. Jag didn’t come home to say goodbye or see me off.
And I never went back.
Watch for
Finding Us
(True Love Trilogy, Book Two) coming in February!
About the author:
Harper Bentley has taught high school English for 21 years. Although she’s managed to maintain her sanity regardless of her career choice, jumping into the world of publishing her own books goes to show that she might be closer to the ledge than was previously thought.
After traveling the nation in her younger years as a military brat, having lived in Alaska, Washington State and California, she now resides in Oklahoma with her teenage daughter, two dogs and one cat, happily writing stories that she hopes her readers will enjoy.
You can contact her at
[email protected]
, at
http://harperbentleywrites.com/
, on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @HarperBentley
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