Running Home to You (The Running Series) Read online

  I pull up a few more articles, and some are more direct in their accusations. One sports blogger whose name I’ve never heard before comes right out and suggests that because I spent time in Colorado, which has less restrictive drug laws, there is no doubt that I must be coercing Evan to take steroids. He goes onto suggest that Evan is a ‘dope for taking dope’, because the mandatory drug testing done in the NFL will prove his drug use and cause his immediate suspension without pay.

  I cannot read any more articles written by reporters who can’t be bothered to check their sources. Or by bloggers who sit in the comforts of their parents’ basement without ever having met a professional athlete or spoken with a single source involved in the story, yet claim to have special knowledge. I close my tablet and lay back on the bed, trying to sort all the recent developments into perspective.

  As I stare at the ceiling, I recall other articles of late that claim Evan will never recover enough to return to the NFL. Some state that Evan doesn’t even want to return, that all his focus and energy is now being placed on his new business, Rush Dessert Bar. Total crap. He didn’t react nearly so strongly to any of those bullshit articles when they were printed. Why now? Why is this piece of trash affecting him so profoundly? Is it because it paints me as a drug pusher and money-grubbing leech?

  Evan crawls onto the bed with me and I curl into him. Our bodies know each other so well and fit together so perfectly, it’s like his body was made just for me. His strong arms wrap completely around me and I reach out to stroke his arms that hold me tight. He kisses me gently on my neck, and then speaks softly into my ear, “I’m so sorry you got caught in the middle of this. Will you ever forgive me?”

  “You are a dope if you think this would change a thing. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass what those idiots write about. We both know you’re not taking steroids. I’m certainly not supplying you with any drugs, that’s for sure! Why do you care so much?” I ask Evan.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise, but Adam is working on getting me a few big endorsement deals. We’ve been getting such positive press lately that Adam thought it was the perfect time to capitalize on my public perception. I don’t want to jinx it by mentioning the companies out loud, but one is for a big sports drink company and the other is for a major sports shoe and clothing corporation. The money from those deals could keep the restaurant in the black for over a year, Juliette. If they sense even a hint of illicit behavior, I can kiss those contracts good-bye.” I can hear the despondency in his voice. “I don’t know how much more I can take. It’s too damned much.”

  I can feel his chest heave heavily as he holds me close. His breathing is now ragged, and I hear him sniffling. I wriggle from his tight embrace and turn around to look into his eyes. My heart breaks when I look into his beautiful blue eyes and see the sadness gazing back at me. I’ve never seen Evan like this, vulnerable and fragile, just like the beautiful orchids sitting on the table. A lone tear escapes down his cheek and I lean in to kiss it away.

  Still struggling to maintain composure, Evan allows me to take the lead. I trail kisses along his jaw, under his chin, then upon his lips. I gently slide my tongue along the seam of his upper lip. He closes his eyes and trembles, his breath beginning to slow. He speaks to me without opening his eyes. “Juliette, how could you possibly? After all that I’ve dragged you through? You still ...” His voice trails off as another tear rolls down his cheek.

  I pause, but not for long. “Evan, you are my life and my world. When you hurt, I hurt. When you suffer, I suffer. We are in this together for the long haul. It would take a lot more than a few misguided blogs and unfounded news reports to change a single fucking thing.” I bring my lips back to his glorious skin when he presses his lips onto mine.

  The kiss is soft, gentle, and full of emotion. He breaks away just long enough to say, “Juliette, I need you. I need your strength. I need your faith. But most of all, I need your love.”

  A sense of urgency takes us both, and we hurry to remove the threads of cotton fabric that separate us. The moment his bare skin slides up against mine, I am on fire, my body burning beneath his touch. With one swift thrust, he’s inside me.

  Hours later, when I wake in the early hours of the new day, before the sun has even risen, I find myself wrapped tightly in Evan’s warm embrace. He’s sound asleep. He looks so relaxed as he sleeps, as if he hasn’t a care in the world. It reminds me of our first nights together, when he was so strong and certain, patient and caring, calm and contented. I prop my head on my hand and study the irresistible man who shares my bed. I raise my hand to brush the hair from his face when he wakes. A smile slowly etches itself across his face as looks into my eyes.

  “Good morning, chief. Glad to see you’re in a good mood today,” I say as I place a soft kiss upon his lips.

  “Damn right, I am. We have this room for a few more hours, Juliette. And I know exactly how I would like to spend them.” He rubs up against me with a devilish look upon his face. Without a word, he gently strokes my hair, trailing kisses across my shoulders. I run my fingers across the defined lines of his chest, tracing the path of his treasure trail, stopping as his body shivers beneath my touch.

  Silently, our hands explore and seek pleasure while our mouths remain silent. Soft kisses express the multitude of emotions we share as we gaze deeply into each other’s eyes. Our naked bodies remain completely exposed to each other, surrendering to the other for hours of pleasure and passion. I can't contain the ferocious swell of emotion that needs release - the love and need, as well as the anger and fear about what awaits us when we leave this refuge.

  One touch of Evan’s gentle tongue on my burning hot skin wipes all the heavy thoughts from my mind, leaving only one – how much more of this pleasant torture can I endure before I demand he take me completely.

  By noon we are packed, checked out of our room, and in Evan’s Porsche headed directly to Adam’s house. I don’t know what awaits us, but I know that we’re ready for whatever obstacles are thrown in our path.

  Evan calls Adam to tell him we’re on the way using the Bluetooth connection with his car stereo, allowing me to listen in to their conversation.

  “Okay, Evan, tell me – have you been drug tested during preseason camp yet?” Adam asks.

  “No. Some of the other guys have, but not me. Not yet, anyway,” Evan explains.

  Adam doesn’t seem surprised, “That’s probably because you’re not really practicing with the team right now. How would you feel about voluntarily submitting to an immediate drug screening?”

  When Evan readily agrees, Adam tells him to go directly to the stadium and wait for one of the technicians from the National Center for Drug Free Sport to meet him there. He’s already arranged for Evan to take urine tests today to put the rumors to rest. He explains to us that it’s best to let the league handle this and to just carry on as usual. He doesn’t think we should make a big deal about it and give the rumors mills any attention whatsoever. The moment Evan speaks out about it, it will become newsworthy, but right now, it’s just gossip and innuendo.

  When we arrive the technicians are already there waiting for Evan in the team’s offices. The entire procedure takes less than an hour. After we leave the stadium, Evan drops me off at Rush, and then heads over to Adam’s house to let off a little steam. The boys are going to work out together for a few hours, then throw a football around on the high school field. Evan’s mood seems to be lifting and I am grateful for it.

  I arrive at the dessert bar, and the restaurant is a flurry of activity. The entire staff is present and prepping for tomorrow’s big day, our Soft Opening. It’s great to see everyone here in uniform working together as a cohesive team. Emmy notices me first, and she comes running out from behind the bar to greet me. “Hey, girl. How was your day in Atlantic City?”

  “I don’t know, Emmy. Evan’s been acting really weird lately. One minute he’s preoccupied with his work, the next minute he’s all hearts and flowers. One
minute he’s happy, the next he’s on the verge of tears. I’m trying hard to be understanding and supportive, but it’s not easy,” I tell her.

  Sensing my stress, Emmy leans in and gives me a big hug, then holds me at arm’s length and tells me, “Hang in there, Jette. Stick with him. Wait it out. Things will get better, you’ll see.” She grabs me by the hand, and makes me sit at the bar. She scurries behind the bar, joining Derek and the other bartenders.

  Derek stops what he’s doing and saunters over to greet me. “Hello, miss. Welcome to Rush Dessert Bar. My name is Derek. You’re looking very lovely this evening. Would you care to try one of our house specialties tonight?” Derek is staring at me with a silly grin on his face waiting for my reaction.

  I decide to play along. “Thank you, Dominic is it? I’m definitely in the mood to try something new today.” I place my elbows on the bar and lean in a little closer, “What do you recommend? I’d love to hear what your specialty is. I’m sure it’s mouth-watering good.”

  “The name is Derek, but you can call me anything you want. You look a little familiar,” he teases as he begins making me a drink. “You remind me of someone I knew once. Sad. She broke my heart into a million tiny little pieces. Want to see?” He finishes with my drink and begins to unbutton his shirt. My eyes open wide, and I can’t hide the silly grin splashed across my face. I’ve missed this playful teasing we had behind the bar when we used to work together.

  He gets as far as the second button when Emmy jumps in and swats him with a bar towel. “Derek, cut that shit out. You’re not funny, you know.”

  “You sure about that?” He looks over at me and sees me laughing. “See? Jette still thinks I’m funny.” He hands me a drink in a martini glass complete with a wedge of lemon.

  “I always thought you were funny, Derek.” I take a sip of the drink, and it’s really very good, although I can’t identify the exact ingredients. “What am I drinking? It’s really good.”

  “This is the Red Zone. It’s got blood orange vodka, Red Bull, and a splash of seltzer. Created it myself,” he brags.

  Emmy and Derek make me a few more drinks from our specialty menu. Marcus and I take small sips from each glass. Each one is better than the one before it. I’m so happy that they really seem to know what they’re doing and have trained the new bartenders so well, too. We really have a strong crew behind the bar. I’m also glad Derek hasn’t lost his sense of humor.

  After Emmy prepares the last specialty drink from our bar menu, an Interception, she glances at her watch and teases, “Guess who should be arriving any minute now?”

  “Evan and Adam? Did they change their plans?” I venture a guess.

  “Nope. It’s Auggie and he’s not alone. He’s bringing his new beau, Lucas. We’re going to practice on them like they’re real customers. They’re going to order off the dinner menu, too,” she announces.

  “Do you know anything about Lucas, Em? I haven’t talked to Auggie in a while.” Emmy eyes me suspiciously, making me feel guilty. “What? I’ve been really busy,” I rationalize.

  Auggie’s last boyfriend, Brandon, was an interior designer who helped me completely gut, design, and decorate the restaurant. Brandon was great, but I could tell something was up. Near the end of the process, he hardly spoke two words to me. I think he was ready to break up with Auggie, but didn’t want to end it until the job was complete. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for the two of them. Now Auggie has a new boyfriend and I don’t know a thing about him or how they met. I guess Evan’s not the only one who’s been unplugged lately.

  “All I know is that he’s a struggling actor. Auggie seems to really like him a lot. They met at an after-party for a Broadway play a few weeks ago. He lives in a huge house in Holmdel his parents bought for him. Apparently, he comes from money – lots of it. Personally, I can’t wait to meet him,” Emmy boasts.

  We both turn around when the door opens, and in walks my very best friend in the whole entire world. Walking beside him is a very familiar looking young man, around our age, with striking Asian features. Auggie is laughing and seems very happy.

  I watch as the hostess executes her job perfectly, seating our two guests at a table in the back of the restaurant and giving them menus. They haven’t noticed me yet, so I wait a moment longer before going over to them. I wait for their waitress to introduce herself and take their drink orders before interrupting the rhythm of the service. The main purpose for their visit is to test our staff, and I want to observe for a few more minutes before I join them.

  “Jette, come here,” Emmy whispers. “Doesn’t Lucas look familiar? I swear I’ve seen him before,” she says with a mysterious tone to her voice.

  As quietly as I can, I agree, “Yeah. He definitely looks familiar. I know I’ve seen him before.” I casually glance over my shoulder and try to get a better look at him. Lucas can’t be more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, but he could easily pass for much younger, too. He could play high school or college roles. I run through the list of movies I’ve seen with young Asian actors, and then it occurs to me. “Hey, Emmy, doesn’t he look like the character Jason from Zenith movies?”

  “Holy crap, Jette, he does. Do you know who played Jason in those movies?” she asks.

  “No idea. I only know a few of the names of the actors who played the vampires, werewolves, and witches. Let’s go over to introduce ourselves and ask,” I tell her.

  Emmy agrees and together, we walk over to their table. Auggie sees me, and immediately jumps up from his seat and sweeps me up into a warm welcoming embrace. “Look at you, Jepetto. That boy must be treating you right because you look hot.” He takes my hand, holds it above my head, and makes me do a spin so he can inspect from all angles. “I definitely approve.”

  Auggie releases me, then repeats the whole process with Emmy, verifying that she, too, is looking radiant. “So Auggie, are you going to introduce us to your new friend?” Emmy asks, getting right to the point.

  “You bet I am. Juliette Fletcher, Emmalyn Akins, I’d like you to meet Lucas Luu. Lucas, these two beautiful women are my dearest friends.” Lucas shakes each of our hands, and then asks us to sit down with them. Each of the boys pulls out a seat for us, and we gladly join them, hungry for more information.

  “So Lucas, rumor has it you’re an actor. Have you done anything I might have seen?” I probe.

  “I’ve had a few small parts in a couple of decent movies. I haven’t really gotten any top-billed roles yet,” he explains.

  Not satisfied, Emmy pushes for more. “Lucas, name a movie you’ve been in and I’ll tell you if I’ve seen it.”

  Lucas is about to respond when the waitress arrives with their drinks. It looks like Lucas ordered a Red Zone and Auggie ordered an Interception. They take an experimental sip of their cocktails, and both seem pleased with their selections. “Jette my Pet, this is great. How’s your drink, Lucas?” Auggie asks.

  “Wow, really awesome. I might have a new favorite cocktail. Please give my compliments to that adorable bartender,” Lucas teases, staring directly at Derek, winking at him and holding up his cocktail. He’s openly flirting right in front of Auggie. It makes me more than a little uncomfortable. I don’t like it.

  “So, Lucas, you were about to tell us about your roles. What’s the biggest movie you’ve appeared in?” I ask.

  “The biggest, huh? I guess I’d have to say the Zenith Saga. I only had a few lines in each movie, but I was in all of them. Did you guys ever see them?” He sits back in his chair, gloating, waiting for us to gush all over him.

  Emmy kicks me under the table, but I answer first, “Nope, never did. Sorry. I have no interest in those vampire movies everyone’s so crazy about lately.” Auggie knows I’m lying because he watched all the movies with me, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

  Just as there’s a lull in the conversation, the waitress comes over with the boys’ food order. Emmy and I excuse ourselves and leave the boys to hopefully enjoy their
meal.

  I leave Emmy at the bar in a slightly soured mood and head back to the kitchen to check in with Reese. I take a quick look around, and I don’t see her. I ask the other cooks where she is, and they point to the back door. “She stepped out to make a call,” I’m told.

  I wait a few minutes and chat with the other cooks, including my pastry chef, Natalie, to see how things are going. I am very pleased with everything I’m seeing. Natalie has bakery experience, but this is her first job in a restaurant. Her desserts are outstanding. I found her a great sous chef from the local community college who did an internship at a few restaurants. Natalie and I have been working together closely for weeks now, collaborating on recipes and designing the perfectly plated dessert selections. I have complete confidence in her ability to execute and deliver.

  As we talk about tomorrow’s big day, the waitress returns with Auggie’s Brie burger. She tells us that it’s underdone and he’d like a new one. I take one look at it, and he’s wrong. It’s not underdone, it’s damn near raw. “Who cooked this burger?” I ask.

  A timid, soft-spoken young man raises his hand. “I did,” he admits.

  “Who plated the meal?” is my next question.

  Another young man whose name escapes me raises his hand, “That would be me,” he claims.

  “Aren’t you the intern from Brookdale?” I question him.

  “I am,” he replies.

  “Where’s Reese? Why didn’t she cook this? Or plate it?” I demand.

  Before anyone has a chance to answer, Reese comes waltzing back into the kitchen, still chatting on her phone. She sees me and ends her call abruptly.

  I hand her the plate of undercooked hamburger, “Here, this is for you. Enjoy.”

  She looks at it, confused. “I don’t understand.”