Eyebrows narrowed in question. One slightly raised in intrigue. Both eyes wide in surprise. His nose scrunched up with a line forming on his forehead when he finally speaks."Are you sure? Would it be a long-term agreement or until the season ends?" Ryland asks. "Yeah, I'd sit down and talk with him. Honestly, James, there's not another team I want to play for, but I'm worried about the players' feelings on the matter."He's quiet again until a small chuckle starts. "Yeah, that's because Obreski's an asshole. I didn't do anything every other player on the team wished they did." Now it's easy to figure out he's talking about the goalie he hit. The final straw before the general manager kicked him off the team.Other than the goalie issue, the rest of the conversation goes over my head. I have no idea what team Ryland wants to play for. He hasn't made any preference known to me over the last few weeks besides not staying in the US."What time is the flight out?" Ryland checks his
For a comic book store Cosmo's Comics and Café is a well-lit open space. It's a thin narrow building, longer than it is wide, but the large shop window and glass front door make one entire end open to the early Sunday morning sunlight. It smells like coffee and paper, and who doesn't love those smells?When Aspen first suggested our new location, I was hesitant. My appreciation for Cosmo's has grown since then to a point I enjoy our Sunday brunch dates here.Well every week except this one. Today dragging myself to Cosmo's feels like a walk into my own execution. Aspen will drill me on Ryland and what's going on in England. I haven't talked to Ryland since he boarded a plane for London yesterday morning. After the eight-hour flight and time change, I'm not even sure where he is. Late last night he sent me a text with a simple "I love you. Sleep well." and nothing more.It takes a deep breath, but I gather the courage to open the door. Cosmo's is gloomier today, not all the overhe
Divorce.It's a nasty word. Especially when you've been married less than seven days. I guess if I try to stay positive, it's longer than some celebrity marriages.I flip the channel on the television again and scowl at the innocent black box when I stop on a soccer tournament. Look, the wives of those men know where they are. What a novel concept.The last message I received from Ryland came last night, almost twenty-four hours ago. I've been to work. I've had dinner. What I haven't had is a conversation with my husband. The day started with me irritated, by lunch I hit frustrated, at dinner I became highly annoyed, and now I'm livid.My fingers tap on the edge of the couch, but the motion loses effect when my nails don't make sound on the soft fabric. I'm about to turn off the television when my phone vibrates.Ryland: Where are you?He didn't? He didn't text me demanding to know where I am. Did he? He's not that dumb?Me: My living room.Ryland: Why are you over ther
"Ryland." I yell his name into the empty condo space when my hot new husband doesn't greet me as I step off the elevator.I haven't figured out where he's storing the damn orange kayak, but every day I suffer from nightmares I'll walk in to a matching one waiting for me. No way am I paddling for my life on the bay. I've seen the YouTube videos. There are sharks out there. Throwing my purse on the kitchen counter, I yell for him again."In here," his faint response comes from the master bedroom.The bedroom resembles mine so much my steps falter and I stop right outside the doorway. Clothes are strewn over the floor in a large disorganized pile. Others are stacked in nice neat rows on the bed categorized by item. There's a pile for shirts, shiny basketball shorts, jerseys, and even a few pairs of jeans. None of this is my fault. I haven't moved my clothes over yet. After the excitement of Ryland's return home yesterday, we planned to do most of it tonight.I scan the room again
* Ryland *The smells of spring in early May are all around as I take in a large breath in hopes I capture it before the game takes over my senses. I love being on the field after it's been clipped—no smell matches fresh cut grass. Especially those nasty candles my mother sends me for Christmas every year. Wait till Marissa finds that box in her quest to organize twenty-five years of soccer shit. The thought of that argument makes me chuckle and my dick perks up even though he got some action this morning.Marissa's pert little ass comes into my line of sight and my eyes are drawn in her direction as she bends over one of the brand new white goal post we purchased for the Youth Center. She swats at something around her face, batting her hair in the process. When her feet start stomping on the ground as she tries to look at the bottom of her shoe, a chuckle escapes. Her head raises to the sky in silent prayer and I outright laugh. My Kitten hates mornings. And nature.My laughter
VOLUME FOUR: QUESTQuest: A long or arduous search created for either story or character advancement.San Francisco isn't known for its sunny days, but a massive cloud has been hanging over my life since the night I met Grant Moore.Darkness closes in and I resort to bargaining. "Get me through tonight without seeing Grant and I'll never eat another Oreo again," I promise the ceiling.It doesn't answer back."But only the regular ones. The birthday cake flavor is still on the table," I renegotiate our deal.The room is brightly lit, but shadows linger in each corner. In my mind they reach out for me like long distorted hands of an unknown beast. The action figures lined up in neat rows on the walls stare at us, their blank eyes tracking each movement. Well... for what it's worth I'm pretty sure Hellboy is supposed to look demonic.A loud tapping sound heralds the end to my privacy on the couch. Aspen barks out an order for no whip on her hot chocolate and I sigh, not read
"Yes, dear." he answers back, but there's a smirk to his smile, which has me concerned. Even the smell of the brewing coffee can't cover up his overly sugary expression.Finn steps over my legs to take a seat next Aspen right as Marissa yells back, "Stop being stupid."Ryland laughs. "I'll get right on it, Kitten."Marissa turns back to my conversation, a Cheshire cat grin on her face to match her kitten nickname. It turns to a scowl when she sees us looking at her, and she's only half successful as one side of her left lip is still turned up in the corner."Don't call me Kitten!" she yells back at him, but it's a wasted effort. The girl is madly in love.Finn leans in placing a hand on his knee and joins the conversation. "Your logic is nonsense. You're crazy."Aspen shushes him. Her grey shirt with a faded image of Mario throwing a red turtle shell at Bowser is obviously from Finn's half of the closet. "You guys are only allowed here if you stay in your area and don't int
"Honey, I'm home." The front door of our large blue Victorian house closes with a loud bang.My job as the youth center's director may not pay much money, but my ability to live in this house makes it worth it. Sure, we don't own the place, but with three other roommates the rent is totally affordable. Living in a San Francisco Victorian period home is a dream come true. All those nights spent watching Full House in Mrs. Haverbush's living room where I dreamt about having Danny Tanner for a dad and their awesome house. My foster mom is a wonderful woman, but her house in Oakland felt worlds away from the life Stephanie Tanner was living. I never got the dad, but the house makes up for it."So did you sleep with him?" Drew steps out of the kitchen, a small container of Ben and Jerry's in his hand."No. Of course not. It's 5 p.m. on Saturday night. Who do you think I am?" I yank the delicious frozen pint from his hand. "For that I'm stealing your ice cream.""Grant is a good-look
Six months later"I thought you were painting this room silver?" Hudson asks dropping his half of the couch inside of our brand-new tiny living room. That's not fair. It's bigger than the apartment when I lived with Marissa. Living here will be like me having my own special mansion. Except this time the rent is higher.I put my end of the couch down and then promptly sit at the end of it. I've done my part of moving. This is why we hired movers. I don't know what it is about men wanting to lift heavy objects. Plus, it's not like there's much furniture to move. The old apartment came furnished. This stuff is new.I look at the wall, which shimmers in the bright light from our large open window in the new living room. "I did. It's Silver Fox.""This color is gray.""No, it's Silver Fox.""It looks gray to me."I shake my head in dismay. "Gray is darker."He nods slowly. "Uh-huh. Whatever you say."Hudson and I have been living together since he made the permanent move t
A few weeks later"Wow, Finn hooked you up." My eyes blink a few times trying to adjust to the overpowering glare of so many television screens in one room.Hudson laughs as he steps behind me. "Ridge taught me you can never have too many cameras.""Well, you definitely put his words into practice." No less than thirty flat screen TVs line a wall in the room Finn and Hudson started calling the war room. I'm pretty sure Finn has a camera everywhere Aspen may go in San Francisco. There is even one in the comic shop. The transition has gone well for the most part. Finn and Aspen had a heated debate over her bodyguard situation.Once Hudson accepted the position, he didn't waste time. It's been less than three weeks and he has a war room set up and is spying on half the residents of the city. My man gets shit done."Are you happy?" I ask turning around so we are face to face.Hudson rolls his eyes and says something silently to the ceiling of the room. He's recently taken up pr
The glass automatic door at the airport entrance slides open and I saunter in with a purpose. No woman has ever been as determined as I am to put a man in his place. Full Marissa style.And then maybe win him back. It depends on his response. I've been through tons of shit the last few weeks. I need someone who can handle me and won't chicken out.Aspen and Finn checked me out of the hospital and then took me back to my apartment making me promise I wouldn't leave when I asked to be alone. My mother even listened when I told her it was a great time to visit my brother in Washington. He'll love it.Besides my shattered heart, I'm medically fine. There's no reason for people to be stuck hovering around me. Hurt or not, I've still peopled too much these last few days, so it wasn't hard to press that I needed quiet time. I promised to head right into bed and sleep for a few more days.But I've broken many promises lately. And kept secrets. I am not the same girl I was last year. An
I hate to be a bad friend — who am I kidding, I'm always the bad friend — but Aspen could not have picked a worse time to make her visit. And I love her. She was here all day yesterday. Getting water, refilling water, fluffing my pillow and accidentally pulling on my IV before doing it again while apologizing for pulling on the IV. Hudson and I haven't had two minutes to ourselves. I tried to fake sleep yesterday afternoon, but then they stood around the bed looking and me and whispering."Do you need your pillow fluffed?" she asks for the thousandth time. It's become her filler question. What she asks me if she doesn't know what else to ask.I shake my head, giving Finn my best "calm her down" look, but he doesn't notice. He's so madly in love with Aspen he thinks everything she does is adorable. "I'm fine, Aspen. Relax."My best friend is definitely more put together than Hudson in the last two days, but not by much. Her hair is flat on one side, a little curly on the other, an
A STEADY STREAM of beeps wakes me up to a stream of light.A hospital. It's the place I've woken up the last two days. I can't complain. It's one hundred times better than a concrete floor in an abandoned factory in Oakland. Even still I fight the panic as my brain comes into consciousness. The hospital therapist says eventually there will come a day when I don't wake up ready to flee, but I'm not sure I believe her.My awake body is heavy and sluggish. Yesterday I spent most the day sleeping as my conscious mind worked around what happened after I was taken from the sidewalk in front of Cosmo's.Hudson was shot. I watched it with my own eyes. What I didn't know at the time was the bullet grazed the side of his body and most of his injury was due to the shock of being shot. Even though my mind didn't want to believe it at the time, he led the charge to rescue me. And yes, he absolutely shot Jimmy in the head — a scene I never ever want to see again, but one that plays on repeat e
Breathe. I hit reality with a start. Tears form as I blink my eyes to open them. My shoulder hurts, a tingling stiff sensation like I slept on it wrong. At one point I must have broken out in a cold sweat and my skin is clammy, moist yet chilled. My knuckle scrapes the hard ground underneath my body as I sit up and the events of what happened flood back. It wasn't a bad dream. I've been taken right from the front of Cosmo's. Kidnapped.They shot Hudson.I have no idea how long I slept or where I am. No longer in the van, the room is dark around me and it takes longer than I want for my eyes to adjust. Of course, there's no positive to be found when they do. Sawdust and dirt smells permeate the air. On the ground there's not only cold hard concrete but sharp pieces of wood. I wipe a few from my pants legs only to have them stick to the skin of my fingers.As I try to stand, there's a clink of metal. I tug my foot to find it doesn't move. My leg is bolted to the ground with thick m
"Are you sure you won't walk in there and start crying?" Hudson asks as we stop in front of Cosmo's Comics and Café.I take a deep breath and check myself before I answer because frankly he's probably right to be worried. It's been two days since we met with Drew at the restaurant in Oakland and I spent most of that night crying. I haven't talked to anyone since then. More than likely they think I've been taking this time to apologize to Hudson. He promises he's forgiven and forgotten and even understands why it took so long.Hudson spent the last few days consoling me as I came to terms with finally admitting what happened that night and saying goodbye to Drew if only in my own mind. He's been perfect. He didn't push or yell at me to do it faster or tell me I was being ridiculous. He listened and held me when I needed him. I couldn't ask for a better man.Hudson is everything I've ever wanted in a guy. Sensitive enough to figure out when I'm hurting, but strong enough to tell me
"That's your answer?" Hudson's eyebrows lift.I hit my knee against his. "Hudson."He sighs in agitation."Well, Drew, the way I look at it Amanda doesn't have much to tell. It sounds to me as if in her story you were a friend who was there to help her out. Who didn't want to get involved in a police investigation. But before I can trust her opinion that you're a nice guy, I need proof."Drew laughs even though it's inappropriate for the time. "I don't think I'm a nice guy, but thanks, Amanda.""Um, you're welcome?""I started working construction jobs part time when Clare and I were in foster care." He stops talking right as the story gets good."But you don't do construction work now, do you?" Hudson asks the exact question I've been thinking.It's like pulling teeth to get facts out of Drew, but what he doesn't understand is Hudson will have no qualms telling Ben if he's not satisfied with his answers."Yes and no. From time to time my boss asks me for extra favors
"Sorry, Dean, I've got to get home. Lots of Christmas prep to do."There's no time to chase another raid with so much work to do for Aspen's Christmas celebration. They overdo it for most holidays, but the big ones are the worst.He nods, accepting the answer. I rarely take him up on offers for more raiding or the hundred times he's asked me out for coffee. "Okay, see you next time." He waves, following a large group of people making their way to cars and bikes before heading toward the wharf.I step onto the sidewalk outside the baseball stadium to look for a cab. The road is eerily quiet since there isn't baseball in December and the people from the raid snatched up the cabs. Even though Grant, Clare's boyfriend would kill me, I scroll through my phone and find the Uber app. If I have to call for a ride anyway, I should at least make it a cheap one. He'd be pissed over how close I am to his neighborhood without someone here with me, but it's too late to worry about that now.