Starting with Gigi will be easier. Then I might grow a set of balls and get the courage to return one of Jason’s phone calls and texts he fired off last night as soon as I took off.
I used the excuse I was driving for not answering him when I was in the car. Once I got home and spent a few minutes playing with Bruiser before allowing him into my bed—somewhere he was never allowed before—then I used the excuse it was too late to call Jason. He’d be home with Tessa, his girlfriend and sister to teammate Sawyer. No way was I interrupting their late night.
But now it’s morning, I hate feeling like a dick.
And if I don’t get out of my house, the walls will start to close in on me despite the five thousand square feet of space I have here.
“Hey Bruiser.” I pick him up and scratch his head.
When I mentioned getting a dog to Madison years back, I was thinking something big, loud, and scary looking. Like a mastiff. Or Pitbull. Or a Rottweiler. I wanted a dog who would protect her when I was on the road.
She insisted on a Maltese.
So a Maltese it was.
When I’m on the road, I feel like shit leaving him alone so much. Even though Cara practically lives here now while I’m gone, he still goes batshit crazy for attention from me when I’m here.
I swear he misses Madison. When he sleeps, he curls up onto the spot on her couch where she always sat when he used to have to stay on the floor. I didn’t even bother telling him to get off the couch the first time I saw him there, looking so pitiful.
Probably a lot like myself lately.
“Aren’t we a matching pair?” I say, setting him on the floor where he does his standard three-circle spin before taking off down the hallway, barking at nothing.
After grabbing a shower, dressing in casual black athletic pants and a tight athletic top that zips from the collar to mid-chest, I slide into my running shoes and grab some coffee on my way out the door.
Bruiser, who hates car rides and almost always pukes during them, is tucked away in his doggie room since I won’t be gone long. I’ve fed him, scratched his ears a few more times and promised to give him lots of attention as soon as I get home. Probably outside in the pool because he loves to swim despite the mess it makes of his fur. He’s one of the reasons why I keep it heated and ready to use all year.
Not that he cares about that, but I do.
I’m pulling up to the alley of George’s Bar where there are very few parking spots. Most are marked for deliveries but since I’m only coming to apologize and not stay long, I take my chances. I close my door, push my sunglasses to the top of my head when the door to the second-floor apartment where Gigi lives opens and she steps out.
She hasn’t seen me and for some reason I can’t fathom, I don’t call out to her to grab her attention. Instead, I take in the thin, black nylon bag strapped to her back like a backpack, the larger, black bag draped over one shoulder. Her skintight leggings match the black bags and cling to her short legs. On top, she’s wearing a sweatshirt and on her feet are lime green sneakers. A groan bubbles in my throat as I watch her maneuver her way down the rickety metal stairs.
Something stirs inside me, in my groin, and I quickly pinch my eyes closed.
I should not be having this reaction to her. To any woman.
You’re a married man, for Christ’s sake. Get it together.
But am I?
Yes.
Or not really.
The internal argument makes me cringe. I open my eyes to see Gigi nearing the bottom steps, one hand on the railing like she’s about to swing my way.
I have to end this. Perhaps for my own sanity than anything.
“Gigi,” I call out.
Her shoulders tighten before she slowly turns in my direction. Her hair is up like it was last night, but instead of two ponytails from behind her ears she’s rolled them into little buns on her head. Little puffs of purple are knotted tightly behind her ears.
“What are you doing here?”
Her eyes are hidden behind sunglasses so I can’t see exactly how upset she is, but her expression says enough. She’s pissed.
“I came to talk to you.”
“No thanks. I’ve got places to be.”
She hops off the last step. Unfortunately, she doesn’t head my direction but away from me.
Fortunately, I have long legs, strength, and some damn good speed on my side so I catch up to her in several quick strides while she hurries away.
“Please. I want to apologize about last night.”
“Seems to me,” she says, flipping up her glasses and peering at me as the harsh sun shines directly on her, “that lately all you’ve been doing is apologizing to me and, no offense, Sebastian, but you’re a customer. You want to be rude to the woman who serves you drinks, that’s no big deal to me. I’ll still take your money.”
Ouch. I take the well-deserved shot.
“I’m really sorry, though. I was a dick.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She slides down her glasses and keeps hustling. Since I’m so much taller, my legs so much longer, it’s more of a brisk walk for me. I can’t help but smile at how small she is.
Pocket-sized. So petite I could throw her easily onto a bed.
Woah. The thought slams into me so hard I jerk back.
“What?” Gigi says, looking back at my sudden stop.
My mouth is gaping. Where in the hell did that come from?
I shake my head to clear it and unfortunately when I focus on her again, her head is tilted in a curious way. I swear there’s a faint blush on her cheeks before she blinks and looks away.
Doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t be noticing any of that anyway.
“I’m really sorry, Gigi. It’s not your fault my wife has left me and is still refusing all of my calls. It’s not your fault I’m pissed about it, pissed about my marriage ending this way. And it’s definitely not your fault I haven’t told the guys on my team yet.” I shove a hand through my hair, forgetting about my sunglasses, and they go flying to the cement. Before I can bend down to reach them, Gigi does, handing them to me as we both stand.
“I was a dick to you, upset with Jason for trying to get that information out of me and now he’s pissed and hurt because I didn’t talk to him. None of that should have been taken out on you last night.”
Her eyes narrow, sparkling blue pools that are so bright they remind me of the ocean. For a moment, I’m lost in them until she smiles. It’s so blindingly bright it almost steals my breath away.
Goddamn. I should go home and jerk off, get whatever this strange lust for her is out of my system so I stop gawking at her all the damn time.
“Forgiven,” she finally says and shrugs.
“That easy?”
She sighs, squints at the sky like she needs to think about it, and my chest grows tight at the thought of her not meaning it.
Now is not the time to wonder why her forgiveness means so much to me. Something tells me if I think too hard about it, I might not like the reason. Mostly because I’m in no place to do anything about it.
“You’re having a hard time, Sebastian. I get it, to an extent. And you owe me nothing. Yeah, you were a jerk last night but to be honest, I was more upset you ignored me earlier. I wasn’t expecting that, so when you came at me with the other, it made me angrier than it should have. But we’re good. Okay?”