Second Chance Hero (22 page)

I hang up and it’s a conscious effort not to throw
my phone across the garden. A text comes through straight away and I open up
the message:

‘Promise me you’ll come home?’

‘I promise.
’

I
reply
.
I blow the steam off
my cup, take a sip, and join Carl in the living room.

~

“You really want to terminate?” My landlord asks.

I managed to arrange a meeting with him last minute,
and we’re at the flat, sipping on coffee and waiting, nervously on my part, to
see what his terms of getting out early are.

“Yeah.” I answer, caressing my mug, “I know it’s
inconvenient, but I’ve had to move away for business and I won't be back here
enough to warrant renting a flat.”

Pierre, my French-native landlord looks around the
kitchen and must believe me, judging by the state of the place and the thick
layer of dust coating every surface. I haven’t even been in my room yet; I came
straight from Carl’s to meet Pierre.

“Okay.” He says waving his hand in the air as he
thinks, “So were on may seventeenth today. I’ve got this month’s rent. Just
give me June and we’ll call it quits, yes? I can find new tenants by then.”

“Deal. Thank you.”

Pierre leaves after we both sign my revised contract
and I head out to see Abbie. I know for a fact there is nothing in that room
that I want to take with me. I make a mental note to let Kip know he can take
whatever he wants from the room, Carl and Abbie too.

“Hey stranger.” I call as I walk in the shop, and
Abbie beams over the counter at me.

It’s quiet; the lunch time rush has finished and I
see the three girls in the back baking away for the home time rush. I didn’t
intend on checking the place out, but I instantly notice they’ve kept it clean,
and they have kept everything as uniform as always.

            “Hey, this is a surprise,” I raise my
eyebrows at her, “Okay, so it’s not. Carl said you stayed at his, I’m upset you
didn’t call me.”

“Didn’t call anyone. Just drove and ended up at
Carl’s. Sorry.”

I know they’ll fill her in on everything anyway. I
gave Carl permission to tell Abbie and Ant everything he thought necessary so
that everyone knew everything. Carl loves to gossip, and I didn’t want to tell
the story three times. It was a perfect arrangement, really.

“You know he’s totally into you, right?” Abbie says
as I lift the bar hatch and climb behind the counter.

“Sometimes it’s not enough.”

“Excuse me? Have you seen the man in question? I
could live a life time off his looks and never need anything. Ever.”

I laugh, “It’s better when you know the man inside.”

“So what’s the problem?” Abbie hands me the ring
binder of paperwork as we sit down in the office.

“
Because
I know the man inside.” I confess,
“Maybe it’s possible to be too close to someone.”

Abbie shrugs, obviously not agreeing with me, and
concentrates on flicking through cash up receipts and orders that need
processing.

It’s getting dark by the time we leave the shop, and
I’ve agreed to go for dinner with the group, before I head back. I’m thinking I
might surprise Kip, and go back with him in time for dinner tomorrow night.

Abbie and I catch a cab to the Thai restaurant and
Carl and Anthony are already there.

“So when are you going home?” Ant asks, as I shrug
out of my jacket and sit down.

“I thought I might surprise Kip. He’s coming down
tomorrow, wants to have a fancy dinner to celebrate his bonus. So I thought I
might just drive him down in the morning and ten he can get the train back.”

“So after yesterday, you’re not going to go home
until the man your deeply in love with who thought you were pregnant, won't be
able to speak to you until the man he despises and sees as competition has gone
home? The man you’re technically committed to, even though your heart is
somewhere else.”

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. Deacon is supposed
to be at the dinner tomorrow too, which means I have to go and talk to him
before tomorrow night; which, Anthony is right, I can't do if Kip is there.

“I say,” Abbie says, perusing the menu, “That we eat
fast and you drive home faster. Go spend the evening with Adonis. Would it be
weird if I tattooed his face on me somewhere?”

“Yes.” I narrow my eyes, hoping she’s joking, “Sounds
like a plan though. I’ve got to sort my shit out.”

“Sweet cheeks,” Carl hugs me, “you’re young. And it
only happens once. Make a few mistakes and get over it.”

Jade said something like that, when we went for
coffee. I get why people are saying it, but how are you supposed to have fun,
when the man who you want to spend the rest of your life with is part of the
game? It doesn’t bode well for a happy ending and I know I’m pushing my luck.

“Why don't you just call it off with Kip?” Ant asks,
sipping his coke. His flu seems to have cleared up.

            “Let me set the record straight before
my only group of friends also think I’m a whore.” They laugh, but I’m dead
serious, “I’m not simultaneously sleeping with two men. Nor do I plan to. I
like Kip, I do. And if I wasn’t so... ruined, I guess he would be my type. I'm
not going to break something up that works until I know if Deac is for real.”

“But how will you know that if you’re with someone
else?” Abbie asks. She still hasn’t looked up from her menu.

“I just will. It feels like something’s holding him
back. And I can't tell him how I feel until I know what it is.”

“You just need to figure it out. There are three
people in this little triangle of yours who could get hurt. None of you deserve
it.”

We say our goodbyes and I know everything they’ve
said tonight is right. There isn’t one thing they’ve said where me being a coward
hasn’t been the answer.

So I’m sitting in the driver’s seat of my Fiat, with
my weekend bag in the back, a bottle of wine, my uni blankie (the only thing
I’ve salvaged from my flat) and a DVD on the seat next to me. And I’m in a pink
fluffy onesie of Abbie’s over the top of my usual shorts and vest ensemble.
I’ve never understood them myself; I don't get why people would wear pyjamas
that you have to take right off when you need the toilet. It’s just not
rational.

But it’s cold and dark; I need something cosy on the
lonely two hour drive back home; and Abbie’s pink one piece with bunny ears and
a bunny tail at the back is the perfect companion. I’m tempted to talk to the
bunny; see if I any get any sense out of my loan pj’s, but obviously there is
no intelligent conversation or insight to be had there, so I opt for my old
P!nk album, to try to conjure up a little girl power. This isn’t going to be an
easy conversation.

At exactly ten thirty I pull up on Deacon’s driveway
and climb out, taking my blanket, movie and wine with me.

The lights are on in the house, so I know he’s in.
The only other cars on the drive are his, but I pray he hasn’t got a girl here.

I knock on the door and wait for an answer. After
what feels like forever, he finally answers and I can tell he hasn’t long
finished work; he’s still wearing his suit trousers and shirt, every button
undone showcasing his incredible stomach, and the happy trail that disappears
into the waistband of his trousers.

“Jenna?”

“Yes. I know it’s late. I know I didn’t tell you I
was coming, and I’m sorry if you have company. But I don't like things being
like this and you’re rig
ht
.
We should talk.”

Deacon

“Come in.”

I push the door open and Jenna ducks unnecessarily
under my arm and into the house. She heads straight for the kitchen, flicks the
kettle on and joins me back in the living room.

“You haven’t got anyone here?” She asks, looking at
her feet, “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You’re the only one.”

She blinks, keeping her eyes closed a second too
long as the relief washes over her. I bite my top lip, stopping myself from
saying something I’ll regret. How can she still think I would have a girl here?

“You make tea, I’ll set up.” She smiles and shoos me
into the kitchen.

“Set up for what?”

“You’ll see.”

She shuts the kitchen door once I'm inside and I
quickly make the tea, eager to know why she’s so happy and playful when she was
anything but pleased to hear from me last night. I was convinced it was the
worst night of my life all over again.

I finish the tea and take it out to her. She’s
kneeling down at the DVD player and she’s taken off the pink thing she was
wearing when she came in. Now she’s wearing blue pyjama shorts and a white
vest; once again, I don't think I’ve ever seen her look so... perfect.

It feels like it’s been forever since our night
together and remembering everything about that night; the way she begged me for
more, screamed my name, and matched me thrust for thrust, is all that’s getting
me through every day.

“Deac, you with me?”

I blink, remembering I’m supposed to be respecting
Jenna and her confusion, when all I want to do is have my way with her up
against the wall, or on the sofa, or up against the glass doors; that would be
hot.

“Yeah,” I rush to put the cups down, “I need to
change.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I just turn and
head up the stairs. I need a minute.

I go back downstairs in some tracksuit shorts and an
old t-shirt. Jenna is curled up on the sofa, under her old blanket that she had
at uni, the main menu for ‘There’s Something About Mary’ on the TV.

“Are we back at uni?” I sit down on the opposite end
of the sofa and pick up my tea, not looking in Jenna’s direction. I can't.

            Instead of saying something that’ll end
up pissing us both off, she stays at her end of the sofa, but faces me and
crosses her legs. I lean over and grab the remote, pressing play for the film,
and then finally look at her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

“Let’s talk about yesterday before we end up
watching the film. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I should have stayed, but I promise you I
was planning on going to London anyway, I just hadn’t planned when. I didn’t
think it at the time, but it gave us a chance to calm down.” she sips her tea
and I watch her lips as they glisten, before she licks them, “We have to be
adults about this. It’s not doing either of us any good making assumptions and
over reacting.”

“I know.” The cut on the back of my hand proves it.
I’d spent all day wondering if Jenna would actually come back and slipped off a
ladder, scraping my hand on something on the way down the last few steps, “I
just panicked.”

“But why?”

“Because I had so much shit going on in my head
because of what I thought I saw. It was a shock to the system to realise none
of it was necessary.”

“You should have just asked me.”

“I will.” I nod, feeling guilty that I don't
completely believe her; she’s always had such a good poker face, and I
saw
her at the hospital. In the maternity ward, “Why were you there?”

“I told you, I was having my injection,” something
crosses her face and she folds her arms, exposing more of her chest out of the
top of her vest. This is heading to an argument, I can't look, and “You don't
believe me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You read my body like a book, I read your face. I
can practically see the words.”

“I just don't get why you were in a building that
brings babies into the world, to have an injection to stop you having them.”

“They have a family planning clinic in the same
building, although I don't see why I should have to explain myself to you.”

“You don't. But don't they have a clinic here?”

I feel terrible; I don't think this is how she saw
tonight going when she brought our favourite film, a guilty pleasure on my part,
and her comfort blanket round to my house.

She’s turned to the TV as the film opens, but her
eyes are looking round the room, and she’s breathing weird, like she’s
panicking.

“You can't tell anyone.” What? “You can't tell
anyone you saw me at the hospital.”

“Why?”

She shakes her head; she still hasn’t looked at me,
“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I know you, Jen. Try me.”

She doesn’t want to tell me, I can see it in her
eyes and feel the nervousness streaming off her. Why does she think I’m going
to judge her? That’s exactly what she’s thinking, because she spends minutes
starting and stopping what she’s going to say.

“I don't want anyone to know why I was there,” she
says finally, “because Kip thinks we’re not using protection.”

“You’re
planning
a baby?!” I stand up, without
thinking about my reaction.

“Deacon, I have injections every three months so I
can't get pregnant.”

I think I might pull some hair out as I grip it and
sit down, remembering what she said about over reacting. The thought of her and
Kip even in the same bed has me wanting to break something, preferably his
nose. So the idea of them making a baby has tipped me over the edge into Crazy
Town.

“I don't get it.” She’s with this guy; he thinks
they’re trying for a baby. But she doesn’t want a baby with him and we’ve been
doing what we’re doing. She’s right, I don't understand.

“I said you wouldn’t,”

“Jen, you’re not making much of an effort to explain
it to me.”

“I don't want a baby!” She shouts, gripping the
blanket, “I’m not ready for children; I’d be a terrible mother.”

She’s kidding, right? I’ve seen Jenna with Phillipa;
there’s no way the girl sitting next to me, caressing her blanket between her
fingers, would be anything less than a brilliant parent.

“Why would you say that? You don't want kids?”

“Look at the mess we’re in, Deac. It’s like this
because of me. It would be a tragedy to bring a baby into the world. How could
I possibly make choices for a child when I can't even take control of my own
life?”

            “Don't.” I reach over and pull the
material from her, holding both her hands in one of mine, because I hate what
she thinks of herself.

“No,
you
don't.” She tries to pull her hands
away but my grip is like a vice, “Stop pretending this is okay. I came to watch
a movie with my best friend. Please let’s just have one night where everything
is simple and we’re each other’s favourite person in the world.”

“Come here.” I pull the blanket off her and put it
on the floor next to me. Jenna shakes her head, “We used to do this. Come
here.”

She almost smiles as she stands up and joins me on
the sofa; I lay us both down, her back to my front, and pull the blanket back
over us. Our moods lift the second we touch, and we watch the film, laughing in
the right places. Jenna looks up, to see if I’m still awake, and I kiss her
forehead, wrapping my arm around her waist and linking my fingers with hers. My
other hand is holding my head up so Jenna has been in peripheral vision the
entire way through the film.

“Deac?” She says as my lips leave her head and I
look back to the TV.

She doesn’t say anything, just turns around to get
comfortable, and our hands settle on her stomach as she studies me. I pretend
not to notice her looking, choosing to focus on where our hands are. I’m happy
she isn’t having a baby, but part of me wanted her to be and I wanted it to be
mine; I wanted our night together to mean something more than an alcohol
fuelled first time.

Jenna calls me again and I continue to ignore her,
fighting the smile and the urge to look at her because I know I’ll kiss her if I
do.

But she makes the first move reaching up with her
free hand and running her thumb along my bottom lip.

“Red.” She pulls my head down so I have to look at
her, “I want to kiss you.”

I smirk, “you don't have to ask.”

“Am I taking advantage if I do it?”

            I shake my head, and kiss her instead.
I’m hoping that’s what she was hinting at; she shouldn’t feel guilty if I make
the first move, even if she asked for it.

Her lips are soft and warm, and as she grips the
back of my neck and as she opens her mouth for my tongue; I want to spend my
life exploring her mouth. Time stops as she strokes her fingers through my
hair, unlinks our fingers and sneaks her hand up the back of my t-shirt. I hold
my breath as her warm hand touches the bottom of my back and slides up to my
shoulders. I let her pull me closer and move so I’m settled between her legs,
our lips still moving to our unique rhythm; a slow but lustful dance I’ve never
experienced with anyone before.

There’s no rush this time, no urgency, no race to
release. It’s just us and the quietened sound of the movie which is drowned out
by Jenna’s soft moans as my hands slowly roam her body. I grip her behind the
knee and hook her leg around my waist, and she volunteers the other. I don't
know how far I can take this - I don't want to push her, she spooks when her
mind is given the opportunity to catch up with her heart.

            But she continues our journey when her
hand leaves my hair and she grabs the bottom of my t-shirt; I sit back and take
it off quickly, eager to get back to her lips. I take her bottom lip between my
teeth and she moans, scraping her nails down my chest.

“Jen,” I pull away and she’s breathless, “will this
mess you up?”

She shakes her head, “touch me.”

            I contemplate calling this off; I don't
know which one of her emotions will win when it’s over. But I can't say no to
her, and I’m selfish and take what I can get when it comes to Jenna. I could
think of a worse way to live life than playing this game of cat and mouse with
her.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“It’s you who should want to stop this, not me.” One
finger slides up from the waistband of my shorts, to the bottom of my throat
and back down, “I’m content with being a cheat if I can have this with you.”

“I’ll touch you anywhere you want if you stop talking
like that.” I cover her body with mine; my stomach pressed to hers, halting
that pattern she was drawing on my stomach, my arms slide under her back to
hold her into me, my lips on her neck.

“Anywhere?” She asks, catching her breath as I suck
on her soft skin.

“Where do you want me to touch you, baby?”

“Everywhere.” emotion seeps from her voice, and she
holds my hand to her chest, over her heart, “I want to feel you everywhere.”

Jenna places her palm flat to my chest and pushes me
away; I sit back on my heels and look at her, as she sits up and pulls her vest
over her head, and then unclasps her bra, flinging it across the room. She
reaches out slowly and wraps her fingers around my wrists, guiding my hands
towards her chest. I don't need any help taking her proportionate mounds in my
hands, and her nipples between my fingers. She closes her eyes and pushes her
chest into my hands. I feel it in my groin, watching her writhing around on my
sofa, solely from my gentle touch on her scorching skin.

I want to ask her if she's okay, if I can go
further; but as my name escapes her mouth, barely above a whisper, I know she’s
not thinking about stopping. My hand moves down to grip her waist, the muscles
in her stomach tense as she quivers in anticipation.

            I slip my forefinger just inside the
waistband of her bottoms, feeling her smooth skin underneath, with no underwear
covering her.

“I don't like to sleep in underwear.” She says
through clenched teeth, lifting her hips.

“You planned to sleep here?”

Jenna sits up, opens her eyes and breathes heavily
through her mouth.

“I still do.” She hooks her thumbs into my shorts
and slowly slides them down, “I just want one night. One night, Deac, where it’s
just us.”          

“I’ll give you that.” I promise mirroring her
actions, pulling her bottoms down slowly.

“We’ll give it to each other.”

She slides out from under me and stands up, gliding
her bottoms down her legs and over her feet, eyeing me to do the same. I do,
and when we’re both naked, I look down at her as her gaze burns up into me. I
fist my cock, watching Jenna look down and lick her lips; the weight of it is
almost painful and if it swells anymore I’ll be on my knees begging her to take
me.