Page 12 of Anything for You
Jeremy
Later that night, I’m restocking the liquor bottles on the glass shelves behind the bar at Fireside, the South Side bar Ben and I opened together right after college. While I spend most days at the office of the foundation I run, my nights are usually spent right here, with Ben.
Ben and I met during freshman year at the University of Pittsburgh. Because I went straight from Juniors to the NHL, I was years older than everyone in the class, fresh off a career-ending injury, and deep into my destructive, drink all the alcohol, fuck all the women, mad at the entire world phase.
Ben saw past all of that.
He sat down next to me in my first college class, introduced himself, and asked if I wanted to go to lunch with him afterwards. Then he introduced me to his roommate Jordan, and the three of us became an unlikely trio. The hometown city boy, the future surgeon, and me—the washed-up former athlete so broken even his own parents didn’t want to keep him.
When Ben found out I didn’t have a family of my own, he offered me his. I spent weekends and holidays and summer vacations with the Parkers. Ben treated me like a brother and his parents, Rachel and Steven, treated me like one of their own,with no hesitation and no questions asked. I never knew what a real family looked like until Ben sat down next to me in that classroom on my first day of college. They are the best people in the world, and I didn’t feel worthy of them. I still don’t.
Even all these years later, I still sometimes find myself wondering when they’ll realize I’m not worth it and walk away. Like my parents did. Like every foster family I ever had did. Like my teammates did once it was clear that my injury would permanently end my playing days. My head knows it’s a ridiculous train of thought, but the life I had before I met Ben and his family leaves the kinds of scars that are bone deep and don’t fade with time.
Like they do every time I ruminate over how screwed up I am, my thoughts turn to Emma. Although, they haven’t really strayed far from her since I ran into her on the trail this morning. I didn’t know she was a runner, but it makes perfect sense—the solitary sport suits her. With her spandex shorts and sports bra and swinging red ponytail, she looked like an ad straight out of a running magazine. The way her ass moved in those tight shorts had my dick standing up and paying attention, but I willed it to calm the fuck down because for the first time in years, we had an actual conversation about something that didn’t involve business. For the time it took to run a couple of miles, it was like eight years ago had never happened. We were just two friends out on an early morning trail run. I wanted that run to last forever. When my knee started to ache around the time we lapsed into silence, I ignored it and kept running next to her.
I’ve never been a fan of silence. When it’s quiet, my thoughts roar. But this morning, they didn’t. In the stillness of the early morning, with Emma running next to me, my brain was calm in a way it rarely is. As we ran, I had the fleeting thought that I’d rather be quiet with her than loud with anyone else, and it turnsout it actually wasn’t so fleeting because I can’t get it out of my head. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with that when she rarely gives me the time of day, and I wouldn’t know what to do with her if she did.
When the run was over, I didn’t want to leave her. I had to hold myself back from asking her what she was doing all day and begging her to let me tag along. I don’t know what possessed me to reach out and tip her chin up in the most boyfriendy move of all time, but, well, I did. It was like my hand had a mind of its own, and all it wanted to do was touch her.
And the date she’s on, what the fuck is that all about? As far as I know, Emma rarely dates. At least, I’ve never heard about her dating, and she’s never brought a guy around as long as I’ve known her. But tonight, she’s on a date with a guy who has the douchiest name I’ve ever heard. Thad Windsor, Jesus Christ. That sure as fuck doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who’s having a beer and watching a baseball game with Ben, Jordan, Asher, and me.
Thinking about Emma bringing any guy around, especially one with a name that sounds like the alphabetical equivalent of a polo shirt with a popped collar, has me slamming a tequila bottle down on the shelf harder than is strictly necessary.
“That bottle wrong you in some way?”
I turn, looking straight into Ben’s smirking face.
I shrug, going for casual. “Just thinking.”
“Dude, I’ve known you for almost thirteen years.Just thinkingmay sometimes turn you into a broody asshole, but it doesn’t generally lead to property damage.”
I scoff and try to change the subject away from my little show of jealousy masked as temper. Fuck. I’m jealous. Of a man named Thad.
“I’m never a broody asshole.”
Lies.
Ben’s eyes soften. “Not that you’ll show anyone. You tend to cover it with jokes and self-deprecating humor. Most people may not be able to see beyond that, but I can.”
I know he can, but even he doesn’t know how deep my insecurities go. If he did, he would be worried that he hasn’t done enough to make me feel like our friendship is strong enough to stick. Ben is just that kind of guy. And he has done more than enough. It’s my head that’s messed up.
As I ruminate on that, Ben slaps me with a bar towel. “But don’t change the subject. Because you’re not brooding right now. That was temper. So, what gives?”
“Did you know Emma runs?” I blurt it out and immediately regret it. Thunder booms outside, shaking the building, as if the weather is agreeing with me that I am, in fact, an idiot.
“Sure, she runs the Frick Park trails every evening. Everyone knows that. I assumed you knew because the trails are your favorite place.”
“I didn’t.” And fuck if that doesn’t irritate the shit out of me. I want to know everything about her.
Ben gives me an appraising look. “But you do now?”
Shit.
“Yeah.”
“And how did you find out this information?”
“I saw her there. She did her run in the morning today, so I ran into her.”
