Fat Girl (37 page)

Both of us winded from exertion and laughter, he levers himself up, his chest heaving against mine and looks down into my face.

Awareness sparks.

Our laughter fades away.

My breath catches.

His head lowers.

Our lips graze.

My heart is thudding so loudly that it takes a few seconds for me to realize that the knock that’s echoing through the living room is actually coming from the front door. With a throttled curse, Mick leans his forehead against mine. His rapid breaths strike my face. “Talk about bad timing.”

On the contrary, the timing is just right to break out of this intense sexual force field and regain my bearings.

“You should answer that.”

“It’s probably just my neighbor.”

“Could be important.”

“I doubt it.”

I struggle against his unyielding hold. “You should check anyway.”

He rolls off me and, climbing to his feet, offers me his hand. Then, dragging his fingers through his hair, he swaggers to the door. I walk over to the wall of windows.

On a clear day, it must provide a perfect picture of Chicago’s skyline. Tonight, the thrashing rain obscures the view and rattles the glass. A backdrop befitting my tumultuous emotions.

“What is it?”

“Micky,” a female voice purrs. “Don’t be like that.”

I turn to find a statuesque blonde with premium cleavage rising high above her painted-on tank. She must be his neighbor, and it’s obvious a cup of sugar isn’t on her agenda.

“I hate storms,” she says, pouting. “I thought we could ride it out together. Pick up where we left off the other night.”

What other night? Saturday? Had he gone straight from my place to hers, slaking his lust with another woman? A woman with a center-fold body.

“I’m busy, Lisa.”

She ducks under his arm, stretched across the doorframe, and sees me.

“Oh.” She takes stock of my fat body in Mick’s sweats and my unruly hair. Smirking, she snakes her arms around his neck and rubs against him.

Déjà vu.

I feel sick. I’m a fool for letting myself fall for Mick again. Any confidence restored by his desire for me blurs, and the self-esteem I’ve worked so hard to build crumbles into dust.

His voice rises, but I can’t hear the words. My mind is pulling me through a time tunnel. To the night I saw Mick with another girl…the betrayal…the heartache…the loss.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says after slamming the door. “She’s—”

“Don’t.” I put up a quivering hand. “Don’t say another word.”

“Jesus, Dee. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. There’s nothing going on between Lisa and me. She wanted you to believe that to make you jealous. She took one look at this situation and sized it up: You’re someone special to me. A beautiful woman who doesn’t have to go to extremes to get a man to notice her.”

The pretty words he’s so good at bounce off me. Only years of practice at reining in my emotions enable me to dam the flood of tears pushing behind my lids. Staking out a defensive position at the window, I hug myself tightly, holding the breaking pieces together, refusing to fall apart in front of him. “Lisa’s a sure bet for the night,” I say, powering the strength in my voice. “I’m not. So if you’ll give me back my keys, I can get going and leave you to pick up where you left off Saturday night or whenever with your lover.”

“She’s not my lover,” he says, stalking closer.

“Your fuck buddy, your neighbor with benefits—whatever term you use. I really don’t care,
Micky.
”

His jaw turns to iron. “Don’t call me that. I’ve never slept with Lisa or wanted to.”

His lie is flagrant.

“Do you really think after what happened between us on Saturday, I would have gone to another woman then or since?”

“Yes. I think women are interchangeable to you. When one’s not around, another one will do just fine.”

He comes closer, his steps menacing. His eyes are hard and narrowed. “That’s bullshit. Don’t you know me any better than that when it comes to you?”

“Oh, I know just how you are when it comes to me.”

He moves even closer. His look is scathing. “And how am I?”

I try to hold it down, but the hurt wells up from the pit of my fractured soul. “You’re a
liar
and a
cheat
who destroyed everything that ever mattered to me.”

MY STEP FALTERS.

Her accusation drowns my temper like a fire hose dousing a lit candle. This isn’t about Lisa. “You’re a liar and a cheat”
can mean only one thing. Dee knows. Somehow she found out. That’s my crime. That’s why she left. Acid heat burns in my gut, and my heart jackhammers against the wall of my chest.

“I never cheated on you. Not in the way—”

“Liar!” she yells. Her voice is shrill, her face twisted. “I was there. You were on your deck, shirtless. Tamara Scott was straddling your lap, and you were gripping her hips and kissing her. All but fucking her right in front of my eyes. And Victor was behind you at the glass doors, toasting you, celebrating your score.”

Her vivid play-by-play delivers a deathblow to my throat. “Dee…” I croak. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I saw you!” She comes at me, her eyes more violent than the storm. “After everything you promised, how could you do that to me?”

Her fists pummel my chest, and I let Dee get in several punches before I grab her wrists and force her around, pinning her back against me. She’s no delicate flower and she’s mad as hell. She bucks, fighting, testing the limits of my strength. Reasoning with her in this state won’t get me anywhere. All I can do is plant my feet firmly and hang on until Dee’s energy expends itself.

It takes a while before she finally wears herself out. When her body goes lax, I can feel the rise and fall of her chest against the band of my arm. Feel the trickle of tears. Hear the soft sobs of her heartbreak. Each one slices through me like a knife.

When I began to accept responsibility for the part I played in Dee’s leaving, my mind went as far as walking away from her, but it didn’t go to this. It served my conscience not to. What would seeing me with another girl have done to her? She was already riddled with insecurities and having second thoughts. It would have pushed her over the edge.

Now it all makes sense. Why she was angry when I showed up at her office. Why she lacked any compassion for Victor. Why she was afraid of trusting me again.

“I didn’t cheat on you in the way you think,” I say, my voice throbbing with the need to make her listen—to make her believe. “I was thrown for a loop when you told me you needed to figure stuff out. I should have tried to understand whatever was causing you doubts. But I couldn’t see beyond my own hurt feelings.

“For a week I stayed away and moped, hoping you’d call. I finally got sick of myself, but instead of putting aside my hurt and going to you, I threw a party. Victor warned me not to drink too much and do something I’d regret. But I wasn’t listening. I drank a lot that night, trying to forget you. It didn’t work. When Tamara followed me out onto the deck after a game of strip shots, which was how I lost my shirt, I had no interest in her. I just wanted to keep drinking myself into oblivion. She had other plans. I could have stopped her. I should have. I wasn’t that drunk. But the alcohol wasn’t dulling my thoughts of you, so I hoped something meaningless might.”

Dee gasps and I grab for breath myself. “It didn’t, Dee. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was you. It was your sweet mouth I was kissing in my head. Your soft body I felt. When I opened my eyes and reality hit, I was disgusted with myself. It didn’t go any further, I swear. I dumped her off my lap and told her to go back inside.

“I know what you saw, Dee. And words can’t express how sorry I am for the deed and that you witnessed it. I fucked up. I’ve let you down in so many ways. By keeping you a secret, I cheated you out of dates, out of taking you to the prom. Sneaking around was wrong. And the real irony of it all was that when I told Mama and Papa T about us, the only thing they were was disappointed that I had lied about it.

“And as for Victor, he didn’t see me that night. It was too dark. He came looking for me later and asked why Tamara had left upset. I couldn’t tell him. He might not have fully accepted our relationship, but you were his sister. If he thought I had done anything to hurt or dishonor you, he would have pulverized me. Whatever he was toasting had nothing to do with what you saw. Victor still doesn’t know.”

I ease her around then. Dee’s eyes are veiled by her long, wet lashes. “I was coming to you that night. I shut down the party early and ran over to your house, ready to do whatever it would take, anything to reassure you. But when I got there, you were already gone.”

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR this. Nothing is how I thought it was. Victor wasn’t an accomplice to Mick’s cheating. And Mick didn’t cheat. Not really. Not in the way I’ve let myself believe for the past fifteen years.

My behavior that night pushed him away. It was what I wanted. How can I blame him for seeking comfort in someone ready and willing after I rejected him without explanation? He didn’t set out to hurt me. There was no malice or betrayal. Just pain and wasted years…so many wasted years.

“I couldn’t go to New York without you,” he continues, unknowingly twisting the knife deeper into my heart. “I stopped writing. I stopped caring. Basketball was the easy choice. Fame and money. But none of it ever erased the memory of you, Dee. I knew the minute I saw you again that I’d never stopped loving you. I still love you.”

Hearing him say that…the magnitude comes crashing down on me like an avalanche…what I’d done to him…to my family…to my baby. I can’t breathe. I’m being buried alive. My lungs are being crushed. My nose and mouth are sealed. I struggle…gasping for air.

“Dee?” Mick’s voice sounds from a distance. Then I feel his arms go around my waist. I struggle against his embrace. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay. Stop fighting and take slow, deep breaths. That’s it,” he says. “Good…you’re doing fine.” Mick keeps his tone soothing, talking me through until my muscles relax and my lungs start to pump a steady flow of oxygen.

Exhausted, I sag against him. He lifts me into his arms as if I weighed no more than a rag doll and sits me down on the couch. “I’ll be right back.” He disappears into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, which he makes me drink.