Shattered and Shaken (15 page)

Silence fills the kitchen, and I hear nothing but the sound of my heart beating angrily. Just as I step forward, Clair speaks. “So Lana, tell me what brings you by. I don't mean to sound rude, if I do, but we weren't expecting to see you,” Clair announces. I want to run up and kiss Clair; this is exactly what I want to know.

“I know, and I'm sorry to impose,” Elana replies. “I heard Blake was in town... I just wanted to stop by and say hello. It's been too long. I miss him, Clair,” she pauses, and I assume she takes a sip of something because I hear a cup set on the table. “And, I may have heard that he's going to be a father soon,” she adds. Oh, those little snotty bitches! They know I'm not pregnant; they saw me with their own eyes!

Clair spits her coffee out. “What? That's ridiculous,” she coughs. “Allie isn't pregnant, dear,” she says matter-of-factly. “In fact, you may meet her to see for yourself,” Clair continues. Damn right she can. I don't even look pregnant! Actually, it's an insult of her friends to accuse me of being so. I work my ass off to keep my body slim and trim. Okay, maybe not slim, but my stomach doesn't protrude in the least. Clair's heels begin to click across the wood floors, and I turn to make my way towards the staircase. I don't want anyone to know I was intruding on their conversation.

The chair scrapes across the floors as Elana pushes away from the table. “No, wait,” Elana instructs. “I don't think that's such a great idea. Maybe I should be on my way. Could you just tell him I came by, please? ” she pleads. Um, hell no! You're not leaving until you see my flat-as-a-wall stomach, dammit. Turning on my heels, I scramble through the living room and enter the kitchen, coming face-to-face with Clair.

“Morning, Allie,” she exclaims, embracing me.

Naturally, I return her hug. “Morning, Clair,” I say, glaring over her shoulder at a beautiful blonde bombshell. Rolling my eyes at Elana's beauty, I bring my attention back to Clair. “Any more coffee?” I ask.

Clair walks to the cupboard, grabs a black ceramic coffee mug, and fills it with coffee. “Cream or sugar?” she asks over her shoulder.

“No, black please,” I request. My eyes continue to wander to Elana, and even though I resent her, I have to admit that girlfriend's got it goin' on. She's tall. If I had to guess, I'd say at least five foot eleven. Her skin is tan, but it's natural. Her hair is cut into a short, layered, bob, revealing her model-like facial features, and her emerald eyes stick out like lint under a black light. I'm stunned by her beauty. Blake's a hot piece of man, and I would never expect to meet an ugly ex; however, Elana's looks make my jaw drop. I didn't know beauty like hers existed, outside of photo shopping anyway.

Clair places the coffee mug in my hand. “Allie, this is
Elana. Elana, this is Allie,” Clair introduces, gesturing at my stomach in a Vanna White-type motion.

Elana
stands, extending her hand to me. “Allie, nice to meet you,” she greets. Her voice is sincere, but I see right through her seducing emerald eyes; deep down she's scowling.

Placing my hand in hers, I return the greeting. “
Elana,” I acknowledge, returning the same fake plastered-on smile.

Clair walks to the table. “Have a seat, ladies. I'm sure Blake will be down in just a minute,” she advises, pulling out two chairs on either side of the table.

Elana and I take our seats. “So, Allie,” she says, my name rolls off her tongue as if it's acid. “How do you and Blake know one another? Did you meet here in Nashville, college, what?” she asks, resting her chin on the back of her hands, flashing me a plastered-on Barbie-like smile.

My cheeks ache from forcing a smile; I allow it to vanish. “College,” I respond.

She licks her lips and nods her head. “Hmm, and you've been friends for how long?” she continues. Really? Does she think she can waltz in here and question my relationship status with Blake? Involuntarily, I jump out of the seat, knocking it to the floor. My palms slap flat on top of the table. I lean across the table so we're face to face ready to give a piece of my mind, but before I speak Blake rounds the corner.

“Al, I was waiting on-” he says, entering the kitchen, pausing as he acknowledges the company. His eyes instantly connect to mine, looking me over, making sure I'm okay. I give him a slight nod indicating I'm cool, and his eyes avert to
Elana.

Clair's seated beside of me. “I'm sorry, Clair. Not sure what came over me,” I apologize. As I apologize to Clair,
Elana takes her chance and moves in on Blake.

She dashes over to him, embracing him into a seductive bear hug. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, standing on one leg with the other slightly kicked back, she places a kiss onto his cheek. “Nice to see you again,
Blakey,” she admires. Blake's hands rest loosely on her hips, and he doesn't push her away. Jealousy surges through my body. I scoot my chair back under the table, place a kiss to Clair's cheek, snatch my coffee mug from the table, and storm off towards the stairs, trying to make it back to the room I'm staying in.

I glare holes into
Elana and Blake as I stalk through the kitchen. Blake pushes Elana away and reaches for my elbow, but I pull it away before he can grasp it. “Don’t,” I demand. His head cocks and he throws his hands out to the side as if he doesn't know he's done anything wrong. “Oh don't look at me that way,” I say, glaring daggers into him.

He reaches out for my hand and I try to snatch it away from him, but my reflexes are slower than his. “Babe, don't. I haven't done anything. I don't even know why she's here,” he whispers, placing a swift tender kiss to my lips.

Nodding, I look behind him. “And for the record, I'm not pregnant, as you can see,” I say, pointing to my non-pregnant belly. “Oh, and another thing, you ask too many fucking questions,” I notify, before exiting the kitchen. Just when I thought I couldn't resent her more, she proves me wrong; I blew my cover. I've bit my tongue the entire time I've been here. I haven't spoken a single curse word. Do you know how challenging that is for me? Keeping me from dropping the F-bomb is like keeping a fat kid away from cake. That shit's difficult. 

Chapter Fourteen

ONCE I MAKE IT to the room, I grab my phone and dial Sophie’s number. I have to tell her about Elana and Blake, and how her ass paraded through here feeling as if she could question me. I should've been the one questioning her. Blake doesn't know Clair informed me of little miss heartbreaker, and I didn't want to rat her out.

Sophie listens to me rant, before bringing the attention to herself, as usual. Normally, it would piss me off, but I need to think about something other than
Elana throwing herself into Blake's arms, which by the way was totally disrespectful. Sophie's met a new guy while I've been away. She met him at Willie's - no surprise there.

“Oh my God, Allie, you're not going to believe the muscles this man is packing. They're huge!” she exclaims. She tells me they've met up several times, which actually translates to the fact that she stalked him and made herself comfortable at his table without permission, but whatever - same thing. “Cooper's tall with tattoos, dark-brown buzzed hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen,” she gushes.

I pretend to listen to her, but we both know this is just her flavor of the week. By the time I make it home, she'll have another notch added to her bra. She explains how she's trying to be seductive, and lure him into her web; however, he continues to ignore her. Supposedly, he just finished his term in the military and he's visiting family close by. I told her that if he hasn't caved, it's because he's a homosexual. She refuses to believe it. “No he's not, Al! He's too manly, too sexy, too rough around the edges to suck or receive penis,” she argues.

Whatever, what man refuses sex, especially with someone as appealing as Sophie - no one, not even women refuse her.

“Okay, if he's not gay, then maybe he's married,” I suggest.

She responds immediately. “Nope, checked his finger, it's bare,” she assures.

Well hell, I don’t know what else to tell her. “We’ll be home in just a few days, set up a day for us to meet. Maybe a double date? I'll investigate then.”

After we hang up, my mood has been lifted. One of these days, we're going to discover that we're twins that were mistakenly separated at birth. We just have that type of connection; it's a bond that can't be broken. Now, I'm feeling a little homesick. I can't wait to get home and see her slutty face.

Blake enters the room twenty minutes later. “Babe, is it safe to come in?” he questions timidly. He waits for me to answer before he takes another step; he's smart.

“Yes, Blake, you can come in,” I encourage, packing my belongings.

He eyes me curiously. “Um, you goin' somewhere?” he asks, watching me pack.

“If you're kicking me out, yes. If not, then no,” I say, lifting a brow at him. He seems nervous, but I don't know why. Oh crap, I knew it... this is my storm.

“Did you listen to a single word I said last night?” he questions, stepping toward me.

Of course, I listened to his promises; that's not something you forget - someone promising to handle your heart with care, as if it's as fragile as glass- which mine is.
“Yeah, I heard you,” I mutter, continuing to pack up. He reaches out his hand and closes the suitcase I'm placing my things in.

“And, you believed me, right?” he asks, tilting my head back with his fingers that he's placed under my chin. “What was that downstairs, huh? I've never seen you so pissed before. What happened?” He looks genuinely confused.

My anger threatens to melt a little, but then I remember why I’m pissed. I want to say, what happened was your ravishing ex came in and intimidated me; that's what happened. Instead, I turn my face away from his hand and push him out of my way. Anger is so much easier than vulnerability. “You tell me, Blakey,” I mock.

Blake takes a step back, shoves his hands into his back pockets, confusion in his face. “Me, tell you? Tell you what?”

Shaking my head in disbelief, I continue to gather my clothes. “Elana... The fact I spilled my guts to you last night, taking a painful walk down memory lane, and you seem to leave out a pretty important piece of information about your past,” I argue, forcefully shoving my clothes into the semi empty case.

He steps in front of me and closes the suitcase, again “Al, listen,” he pleads.

I hear the frustration and sadness in his voice. Why am I so angry? It's not like I asked him about his past girlfriends or anything, but I thought he'd at least mention it; I told him the most embarrassing event of my life last night. I drop my hands from the case, open my eyes wide, and lift my brows, urging him to continue.

“
Elana and I have history, but that's it: history,” he informs with a heavy sigh.

Walking around the bed, I sit down on the edge of the mattress, my back facing him. “History, right. You still love her?” I ask, tears threatening my eyes.

He walks over and takes a seat beside me, placing his hand on my thigh. “No. Care for her, yes. Do I love her, no. Allie, look at me,” he commands. I do as he says. “Baby, I love you, only you,” he assures. These damn tears, they fall down without permission.

“I know. I love you too... I'm sorry,” I apologize, flashing a sad smile.

He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me into him. “You can ask me anything you want to know. I'll answer you truthfully,” he promises. “And you never have to apologize for letting your love for me get the best of you,” he boasts, combing his fingers down the back of my hair. I don't speak. I simply press my ear to his chest, listen to the erratic beating of his heart, and enjoy the serenity his arms provide.

We stand in peaceful silence, embracing one another for several moments until I'm completely calm. And as I think of my actions downstairs, I begin to feel like a fool.
Elana must believe I feel threatened by her, but I don't, not really - well, maybe a little. She broke Blake's heart, and I know the type of power a person like that can have over you.

She didn't tell me how she knew Blake; I didn't give her a chance. Instead, I acted like a mad woman and went bat-shit in front of Clair. I should've been civil, but I felt as if I was under attack. She hasn't been in contact with Blake for over three years, so what makes her think she can come in his house and drill me. Even if I were pregnant, it's none of her damn business. Maybe I was intimidated at the thought she could possibly own a few pieces of Blake's heart, just as Wyatt does mine. I just don't want to lose him. I can’t take the heartache this time around. I've
finally found someone who makes me feel whole, makes my heart react positively towards him, and gives me a reason to continue breathing. And on top of all that, he provides me with the best orgasms I've ever experienced. Releasing me, freeing me.

Blake takes a seat on the bed. “So, how about you come over here and tell me what's got you all flustered?” he pats his lap. How can I resist an offer like that? My curves were made for him; I fit perfectly in his lap.

I take my place and rest my hands into my lap, twirling my fingers. “Clair told me who she was... told me how she hurt you,” I barely whisper. At all costs, I avoid his gaze. “And, I don't know, she just got to me. Clair introduced us; we shook hands, and even though she was smiling, I felt her resentment towards me through her handshake. Her eyes were filled with hatred,” I continue.

As embarrassed as I am about my insecurities, I decide to be completely honest. “After I found out you two were together for a long time, like, a really long time, jealousy may have just raised her ugly head,” I add. “I know what it feels like to have someone own you, own the most important organ within your body - allowing you to never move on...” I continue, tears escaping my lids. Damn, not again. Love's going to be the death of me; you mark my words. Love can build you up just as quickly as it can tear you down; just like a wrecking ball demolishes a brick wall, it takes time to build up, but in the blink of an eye, it can crumble.
 

Blake cups the side of my face and turns it so we're face-to-face, but I keep my eyes lowered. “Al, please, please just… just look at me.” I want to, I really do, but as soon as I lift my eyes, the tears will break through and I'll appear weak. I feel his chest rise as he takes in a deep breath before speaking. “Allie, please, I need you to look at me when I say this, so please, just look at me,” he pleads, bowing his head in an attempt to catch my eyes.

Throwing my head back, I inhale deeply through my nose, before slowly releasing it and focusing my eyes to his. “Thank you,” he breathes, tears glossing his eyes. I wipe the dampness from my cheeks and roll my eyes at him playfully, hoping to lighten the mood. Both his hands grip the side of my face, forcing me to focus. “Now you listen, dammit,” he demands. “I've already told you, you're the one for me, Allie. You're it.” He takes my hand and splays it over his heart with his resting on top of mine. “This, my heart, it's yours. It has been for the last three years, Al. You were too blind to realize it. Yes, I loved Elana, but that's in the past, and that's where it'll remain,” he assures.

With all my strength, I fight back the tears. Biting the inside of my cheek, I try to distract myself with pain but release it quickly at the taste of copper. I begin to bite my lower lip out of habit, but Blake lightly grips my chin and uses his thumb to pull my lip away from my teeth. “No one could love anyone the way that I love you,” he kisses me. “Don't you see how easy it is to love you?” he asks. Not really. No one admires damaged goods; they discard them. They don't attempt to refurbish it. I think disbelief shows on my face as he continues. “Babe, loving you is as simple as breathing. Your love's the oxygen to my lungs. It feeds the blood that's pumping through my veins. Without it, I'm nothing,” he announces, a tear rolling down his cheek.

My heart melts completely at his lone tear. Oh my God, did he really just say and mean all of that? My heart constricts. Shit, maybe love will be the death of me. I reach down and kiss the sole tear away. Making my way to his lips, I capture him. My tongue invades his mouth, tasting him, loving him... thanking him silently. His words have me speechless, so instead of telling him how much he means to me, I'll show him…

Two hours later, our tensions released, and we're ready to go about the rest of our day. Today, I'm supposed to be introduced to Blake’s older brother, Brody. He resides here in Nashville. He's a photographer and has been in New York on business. Blake and Brody have a decent brotherly bond; not like Kyle and I had, but they're close. I've never spoken to Brody, but I've heard conversations between the two of them. He seems pretty laid back, a nymphomaniac, but I don't know many people that aren't.

Dressed in short white shorts, a pink tank, and Soph's pink cowgirl boots, I look like a true southern belle. “Damn, girl, you trying to keep me cooped in this room all afternoon?” Blake examines, his eyes ogling me.

I laugh at his outburst.
 “I mean, I wouldn't object to it,” I tease, biting my lip and wiggling my brows.

He laughs. “As tempting as you are, Miss Anderson, we're going to be late”. He pauses and looks at me a moment. “Oh to hell with it, Brody can wait.” I can’t help but laugh as he strides over to pick me up, and twirls us around. He quickly places me on the floor and scurries over to his stereo, attaching his iPod. Making his way back to me, he extends his hand and bows slightly. “Dance with me, please,” he requests.

My ginormous smile pushes my cheeks high, causing my eyes to squint. “Why thank you, Dr. Andrews, I'd love to,” I reply, accepting his hand. I allow him to lead, you know, since it makes him feel manly and all. He pulls my arms up, placing my hands around his neck. His arms encircle my waist and he pulls us close, closing the space between us. Our embrace is so tight, you couldn't force a toothpick between us. “Listen to the words, take them in, and know that no other woman can ever compare to you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life, Allie,” he whispers beneath my ear.

As soon as he's finished speaking, the room fills with the acoustic version of Jason
Mraz's “The Woman I Love”. Warmth spreads through my veins and butterflies claim my stomach; it's the perfect song choice for this moment. We rock from side-to-side, turning in a complete circle, and he dips me as the song ends. “Got that?” he asks, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip.

God, that drives me crazy! “Got it,” I mimic. After the mind-blowing orgasms, hot shower, and comforting dance, the events from earlier are nonexistent to my mind. I can't believe I've made it back to this place; a place of love and happiness. Emotionally, I've been lonely for so long, believing I was unfixable, unlovable, and incapable to love, intimately. Four years later, I realize Blake's been reconstructing me the entire time. Not once, since I've known him, has he had a girlfriend, a booty call, nothing. He's stood by my side since we've met. My drunken night, vomiting on his favorite Ed-Hardy shirt, he didn't display anger; instead, he held my hair back and spoke soothing words into my ear. When I used sex as a coping mechanism, he never once judged me. He's the first person I run to when life becomes too much to
bear, and he drops whatever he's doing to come to me; unless he's delivering a baby - probably not a great idea to drop one of those... that'd be one hell of a lawsuit.

Words can't begin to explain how much I want to call my mother and tell her how happy I am; it seems hypocritical of me to do so, you know, with me being livid about how she's moving on. Now, it hits me; I should be ashamed of the way I treated her. I didn't take her feelings into consideration as I blew up at Betty's. If her heart ached in the slightest the way mine did, I hope she truly is happy. What the fuck was I thinking? Of course her heart ached, dumbass! The only men she ever loved left her, permanently. I saw what she went through, her inability to cope. I'm an idiot. Before I fall asleep tonight, I'll call her. I'm going to apologize for being an inconsiderate bitch of a daughter. Plus, I'm going back home. I love Sophie and Blake, but traveling between places is exhausting. There's nothing like your own bed... and closet- I'm sick of being confined to duffle bags, dressers, and suitcases.