Page 29 of Playing For Keeps

Sebastian found out she loved having her back tickled in bed, and her favorite place to fall asleep was the wide expanse of his chest with one of his strong, sure hands resting between her shoulder blades. The intimacy between them, without ever having sex, astonished her. It never felt like this before, so easy despite both of their misgivings impeding their progress.

Being with Sebastian was like breathing. Being the recipient of that hazel gaze, the way he feasted on her with just his eyes and left her a little dizzy, was the cruelest and most enticing slow burn she’d ever experienced. They’d come close a few times, one or both of them pulling away at the last moment, as if they knew as soon as that barrier was crossed, there would be no turning back for either of them.

At least that was how it felt to Farren.

So, she said as much to her friend. Pausing with her hand on a soft sweater she had her eye on, Farren rubbed the fabric between her thumb and forefinger to ground her.

“I resent you saying that. I’m putting in effort here. Sure, I wasn’t the best girlfriend in the past and I tend to pull back from things before they can hurt me—which, for the record, I think is super valid.” Farren knew she sounded defensive, but it just kept coming. It was no wonder she hadn’t brought up her game idea, no wonder she wouldn’t want to either. Her best friend didn’t think she had it in her, and no matter what Sebastian said, there was a part of Farren that doubted her idea was good enough for the fuss that would follow.

“My job record is spotty, and my exes haven’t been the best guys, but with Sebastian, it’s different. We’re taking it slow, we’re talking about so much, what I have in mind for the future,” she said, wanting to ease her budding hopes for the game into their conversation.

She hoped she could finally come clean to her friend, divulge something she’d been too insecure, too caught up in self-doubt to envision as a reality. Farren never told her friends because even though they may have been excited at the prospect, none of them believed she had the chutzpah to see it through to the end. With Sebastian’s help and encouragement, she was so close.

Corinne stopped perusing through her rack to scoff at that word–future–and Farren let go of the fabric in her hand to focus on her friend.

“What?” Farren asked.

“Don’t act coy. Don’t pretend you don’t know exactly what I’m going to say. The number of times you’ve been on my couch crying about a guy, or not knowing where you were going with your life… You do this,” she gestured around as if the ‘this’ she spoke of was tangible. Corinne threw a blouse over her arm to take to the dressing room and started walking as if she expected Farren to follow.

Which she did. Farren always did, terrified to get left behind by her friends the way she had with her family. If she kept herself useful, they would want her around. She didn’t know how to respond, just stood outside the curtain, swapping out clothes for Corinne to try on as her friend carried on talking.

“You cycle through these flights of fancy. You try to get your life together, you start a new career, date a new man. You’re convinced it will finally be the time you pull yourself together, nothing else has ever aligned like this.”

Corinne pulled back the curtain and exited the dressing room, giving Farren the opportunity to try on her own selections. As she stood there, Corinne’s words made her feel stripped barer than her state of undress and weighed down by more than the pile of clothes in her arms.

“You love animals, so being a dog walker is perfect. You’re an aunt to multiple kids so substituting is perfect for you, even though we both know you’ve barely seen your nieces and nephews. Hiding out here, away from your family.” Corinne’s words were scathing and unexpected.

Logically, Farren knew a lot of this must be the added stress Corinne was under. Realistically, she wanted to assume some good intent behind her friend’s words.

Emotionally, she was flogged, exposed and ashamed. She kept her mouth shut so the tears that threatened wouldn’t be as obvious. Farren yanked her clothing back on and hastily returned items back to their hangers, swooshing the curtain open to hang them back up.

“Corinne?” Farren asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice and failing. Her throat was stuck in a vise, emotion crushing against her larynx.

“Just… no. I can’t do this right now. I’m up to my ears with Luis and his mom. Alison is being a complete terror plus they’re threatening the funding at the museum so my contract might not be renewed, and even if it is, it’ll probably be a huge pay cut. I have serious problems, Farren. I’m a little tired of doing this with you every couple of months. Not everything is about you.”

The words shut her right up, and all she could do was nod, tears obscuring her vision, the dark bob and glasses distorted. Corinne started to say something, reached out toward Farren, but she pulled away. Her feet carried her away from the hurt, turning around before the tears could fall and wondering if what Corinne said was true. Was Farren the drama? Did she inevitably make everything about herself due to her complete inability to fully let people in?

The afternoon only got worse with Sebastian telling her he was going to be late to game night, again. Farren told him not to bother, she had no desire to go now anyway, not after her fallout with Corinne. He offered to bring food over to her place, sensing something was off and still wanting to spend time with her.

Farren tried not to check her phone for the time every few minutes while waiting to hear back from him, her mind unable to slip into her usual escape of trashy reality TV or sweet British confectionery wrapped up in a kind-hearted competitive environment.

Around seven, she received a phone call, picking up without checking the caller ID, assuming it would be Sebastian to let her know he was either on his way or already at the door. At worst, he was calling to get her food order again because he might have forgotten it.

So, when her mom’s soft but unmistakable New Hampshire accent bled through the phone in a very innocuous-sounding, “Hi, hon,” Farren knew something was up. Within twenty minutes, she was in her bedroom, shoving cold-weather clothes into a suitcase, her hair a crazed mass around her head. Her curls were fluffy from the frenzied way she was trying to get ready for a late-night train that would take her up the coast and as far as Boston before she switched to a bus to get to her hometown.

Sebastian arrived during the craziness, Farren buzzing him in briefly before returning to the explosion of clothes on her bed. He entered the unlocked apartment, set the paper bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, and presumably followed the sound of her cussing as she tried and failed to shove the zippers together to close her suitcase. He took one look at the frenetic look in her eyes and stepped forward to wrap her up in his arms.

She wanted to disengage, to tell him she couldn’t do this right now because too much was going on. Instead, the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his body cradling hers left her sagging against him in relief. Grateful, overwhelming emotion flooded through her at how safe she felt there, in that moment.

Farren explained in harried breaths and between sobs that her younger sister, Lindsay, had been in an accident with her husband; they should be okay, but it’d been a scare for the whole family. After those fraught days with Lindsay in the hospital as a child, it resonated within them deeply. With good reason. Back then, her fever hadn’t abated for days, and she’d screamed in pain for the entire trip to the children’s hospital. Who still got mumps? In this day and age. It cost Lindsay the hearing in one of her ears and so the guilt sat heavy on her parents.

Her mother didn’t tell her about this week’s car accident until the doctor gave the okay and sent them both home. Farren tried not to be upset by knowing she was probably the last to find out. They waited until the emergency passed to call her.

Lindsay was pregnant, and it was a rough few days, her mother said. Farren offered to come immediately. Donna urged her that it wasn’t necessary, they understood she lived far away and didn’t want to alarm her. Even though they didn’t seem to want her there, even though it hurt to think about, Farren insisted. She couldn’t deal with how far removed she was, how quickly something could have gone very wrong.

She bought the first ticket she could find to get her there soonest. The guilt at not being there to help, at not seeing them in so long ate at her. Her mother sighed, giving in to Farren’s strong feelings. Part of her knew she’d be underfoot, in the same way as usual, but she wanted to see them all okay. Her sister’s screams from back then seemed to ring in her ears, and all Farren wanted to do was take some of the pressure.

In his arms, she broke down completely, conflicted by what she was feeling. Abject terror at the prospect of almost losing a loved one, shame because it was the family member she’d grown up resenting, and she hadn’t seen any of them in nearly a year.

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