Throwing Love #2 (Throwing Love #2) Read online

  Connie looked sadly at me. “Are you sure that was the right thing to do?”

  “It's over, Connie. I just want to put all this behind me.”

  Chapter Three

  The cheeseburgers were just the thing to put me in a better mood – juicy, delicious mouth-watering pieces of meat with real cheese and a mess of toppings. Yum! It wasn't just the beer talking, although we had already drank three of them in a short period of time. That's five times now that Candace had come to our table and not said she was sorry. The girl needed a lesson in etiquette.

  We had blown off our classes for the day, but it was just one day and hey, I was having a crisis here. Besides if any of my professors saw the paper that day, they would probably understand completely. In fact, they would probably be having a beer with me to in support of my crisis.

  I was determined to let beer and girl talk erase all my worries for the day. I did not want to have to think about it any longer. I just wanted to forget the whole world for the time being and the fact that I was the talk of the school that day. Ugh!

  It was easier said than done, however, because even though I wanted to forget the world, Bennett, and the front cover of the school newspaper, I couldn't do it. I was mortified, yes, and a little hurt, but I still felt something for Bennett. I would have liked to see if our relationship, or lack thereof, would have gone anywhere. I wanted so badly to see where things may have gone with us, but how could I now? That cover photo had been devastating to me. That kiss had been wonderful and deeply personal. It was something that should have stayed between us – not something that people could point and laugh at. Nobody had any idea what was truly going on in the hearts of the people in that photo and to accuse...it was just so unforgivable. And there in the middle of it were Bennett and I, and things were too new too fresh to determine what was the truth at that point. I really didn't know Bennett at all, so how could I possibly determine whether he was capable of lying to me?

  I couldn't help but think about his phone call, however, and that voicemail message. What did he say? Was he apologizing? Asking for forgiveness or had he just been calling to say hello and tell me that he was thinking of me?

  I kept checking my phone periodically. I wasn't sure why. He didn't call back, nor did he send any messages. He was probably wondering why I hadn't returned his call by now. He could be completely confused about the whole situation. But was that really my problem?

  Who was I kidding? I felt terrible at the thought that he could be just as confused by the situation as I was. Maybe he wanted to reassure me that everything was going to be okay and I could trust him. Or maybe he had just called to make sure the rumors weren't going to ruin his chances with my father.

  A message came in and I practically snatched the phone up. Disappointed, I realized it wasn't Bennett, just one of my classmates letting me know she got me notes for the class I missed. I quickly texted her back, thanking her for doing that for me.

  “I thought you weren't going to talk to him?”

  I glanced up, embarrassed that Connie knew me so well. “I know. I'm acting ridiculous, aren't I?”

  “Well, if I have to remind you, it was your decision to never see him again. You broke things off, so why are you looking at your phone as if you're are wondering why he's not messaging you?”

  “Maybe I should have listened to that message.”

  Connie chuckled, “Yes, maybe you should have. At least you would have known what he had to say. But you chose not to and that's probably a good thing. So you need to stop worrying about it. You have had a rough day, it's okay to have a meltdown – just let it go for now.”

  “What if I'm wrong?”

  “I don't know, Emmi, I can't answer that for you. I have no idea if Bennett is capable of this. I hope he isn't.”

  “I'm so confused.”

  “Well, that is exactly why you need to take a breather. Not to mention you’re currently in the process of getting drunk. Not exactly the best time to make a phone call. Do you really want to end up crying on the phone because you're drunk?” She laughed. So did I, though the thought of that was a little frightening.

  “Yeah, you're probably right.”

  “Of course I'm right. You need some time to think and calm down. If at that point you still want to talk to him, then you can call him back. But right now, I think it would be a mistake.”

  I laughed. “Could you imagine if I called him drunk? God, I might as well end my life at that moment. One minute he would think I was this charming and beautiful woman, and the next he would think I was a hot mess. That's not good at all.”

  “Nope. It would be an amusing story to tell me the next day for sure, but probably not worth it.”

  “What do you think guys think of drunk texts?”

  Connie smiled. “Well, it depends. If it's for a booty call, I think they are all over that, unless you’re sloppy.” We laughed. “If it's just messages sent while you're drunk, I think it depends on the kind of messages. My ex used to tell me he thought my messages were super cute and he always knew that I was thinking about him. But this one guy used to tell me that a girl messaged him all the time when she was drunk and her messages were so bizarre, he thought she was a candidate to be a stalker and he just stopped talking to her.”

  I burst out laughing. “Seriously? Wow, yeah I guess it really does matter.”

  Connie was probably right. Becoming more of a fool wasn't exactly what I wanted at that moment. I took another swig of my beer and ignored my phone.

  Chapter Four

  The drunker I got, the more I wanted to listen to that message. What is wrong with me? Why was I so obsessed with finding out what the message said? I should have been able to let it go, but I couldn’t. There was a part of me that wanted to know what he had to say, even if it was bad. Or maybe I just want to hear his voice, I wasn't too sure. Either way, the more I thought about it and the more I drank, the more I wanted to not only hear his message, but talk to him. Maybe that was why I shouldn't listen to the message. If I heard his voice, then I would really be in trouble. I would want to talk to him, I would call him, and then maybe I would be able get out of this mess. I had been determined to let him go, to never talk to him again, to move on with my life and not have to deal with any more rumors. So why on earth was I still thinking about that voicemail message? I was becoming obsessed and it was a little embarrassing. Why couldn’t I just move on? Hadn't I been humiliated enough? Apparently not because all I wanted to do was here that stupid voicemail message.

  I looked up at Connie and decided I was going to do it, I was going to listen to that message. Maybe it did make me an idiot. But I was gonna do it anyways. At least I would know one way or the other. I hated wondering – at least this way, good or bad, I would know what really happened. I would know what he had to say. And then I could make a conscious decision from there about what I really want to do.

  “I think I'm going to hit the ladies room for a minute, too many beers you know?”

  She laughed. “No problem.”

  I got up from the booth, my head feeling a little dizzy. I maneuvered around tables and waitresses as I walked to the bathroom. Maybe I should really cool it on the beer because things were gain a little bit fuzzy for me. Once inside the bathroom, I went into one of the stalls and sat down on the toilet. I had no intention of going to the bathroom, I just needed a place to sit for now. I open up my voicemail messages and clicked on Bennett's to take a listen to it. I couldn't believe how nervous I was. It was just a message, after all, and I had already decided to end things. So what was the big deal?

  The moment I heard his voice, I wanted to cry. I wasn't sure why, but maybe hearing his voice made it all that much more real. The hopes that I had for the relationship, the fact that I liked him so much, and now the article that I would have to deal with every day for the rest of my life – it was all too much to bear at once. I shouldn't have to deal with any of these things. I had done nothing wrong – I had
just been living my life, minding my own business. And now this, I hated having to do this stuff. And I didn't want to end things with Bennett. Our date had been marvelous, but it all got tainted because of the article, and I felt that he was at least partially to blame.

  “God, Emmi, I wish I could have got you on the phone. My friend Brad just called me about this ridiculous article he saw. Is that why you aren't answering my call? I just need you to know that I had nothing to do with what they are saying; in fact I am completely appalled by reporting so terrible as that. I cannot even believe they printed that garbage, it's just tabloid fodder, Emmi, and it's completely untrue. I just need you to know that, I would never do anything like that to anyone, never mind someone like you. You're father has nothing to do with our dating, and I would love it if we didn't let this get in the way of us seeing each other again. I'm going to be travelling, Emmi, and then we have a game, and so I won't be able to talk right away. But please call back and let me know when it would be a good time for me to call you tomorrow. Good-”

  The message cut him off as he was saying goodbye. I was speechless in my drunken stupor and wasn't sure what to think. I wasn't sure if I should even talk to him again. Was there really any point? What was done was done and we can't change what happened. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to call him back. If I called him back, I might as well give him another chance. By calling him back I would be saying essentially that I want to continue dating him, and I wasn't sure if I did want to continue dating him. It wasn't that I didn't believe him because I never really thought he did anything wrong. There was no proof of it, it was just assumed because of the article. But that didn't mean he did anything he should be ashamed of. And I needed to remember that. So it wasn't about believing in him, it was more about the fact that the opinions other people had about our relationship tainted things for me before our relationship even started and I even got a chance to recognize or feel anything for Bennett. And I know that it wasn't his fault that it started to fall apart, but in the end, that's what happened, and I needed to realize that maybe being apart was what was best for both of us. Neither one of us should be in the limelight right now, neither one of us should be dealing with bad publicity. Especially when neither of us did anything wrong – it was just a silly thing that happened that shouldn't have happened and now the two of us were stuck in this mess. The problem was all I wanted to do was get out of the mess.

  If I continued to date Bennett, there was a good chance that I would continue having to deal with more articles being printed about our continuing relationship. That was the last thing I wanted. I want to be able to enjoy the dating part of being with Bennett without having to deal with negative comments from everybody about our relationship. It just wasn't fair, and I wasn't sure if I was willing to deal with that.

  Again, it wasn't that I didn't believe him because there was a large part of me that didn't. The thing about Bennett was that it just didn't sit well with everything that I had known and heard about him up until this point. It was just a connotation, the perception that everyone had now been in and it didn't seem like anybody was rooting for us or was happy that we were together. In fact, the opposite was happening, everyone had this perception that Bennett was using me and because of that perception, everyone thought that I was the fool for being involved with him. Considering I was in the same industry as he was, the last thing I want to be thought of was a fool. I wanted people to respect me and see me as a strong female in the industry, not some girl that caught up with a baseball player and was made a fool of.

  I wasn't sure what I was going to do; I was drunk and alone and sitting in the bathroom on a toilet feeling stupid once again. I decide to return back to my booth with Connie and drink some more. Whether that was a good idea or not didn't matter. I didn't want to be thinking about this right now. But that had been my mistake, thinking that coming into the bathroom and listening to the message would somehow make me feel better, when in fact it did the opposite.

  I got up and left the bathroom. I didn't bother to call him back.

  Chapter Five

  When my alarm went off at 6 a.m. the next day, I woke feeling ill and lethargic. I had no interest in getting out of bed, but I knew I had stuff to do. I rolled over and drank out of the water glass I had beside my bed. Last night had been a mistake, but I wasn't going to dwell on it. Today was a new day, and I had to get with the program. It was unnecessary to wallow in misery. In fact, I had to write an article on Bennett for the game he had last night. I hadn't talked to my editor about the poor choice she had made on the article regarding our dating life. I wasn't even sure yet how I was going to handle that. I couldn't just let it go – there had to be some kind of discussion about it and I was sure that my editor expected that. In fact, she probably didn't expect to get an article from me that day, but I was a professional and would do what I had to do.

  I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom to clean myself up. The room spun when I got out of the bed, but I willed myself to ignore it. I was determined not to throw up. With that thought, I felt a rumble in my stomach. I turned to the toilet immediately and got on my hands and knees. I threw up everything that was in my stomach and gagged.

  Oh yes, the day would be interesting indeed. When I was confident I wouldn't throw up again, I picked myself up off the ground and rinsed my mouth out. I brushed my teeth and hair and made my way into the kitchen. I put a pot of coffee on because I was going to need it. I popped a couple of Tylenol and drank a glass of water, something I should have done before going to bed.

  I positioned my laptop on my kitchen table and booted it up. I watched it go through the motions of turning on and updating while I waited for my coffee. I poured myself a large cup and added cream to it before settling into a chair and luxuriating in the smell of coming out of the cup.

  I opened up a Word document and tried to get my mind right. All I could think about was that last night with Bennett and then the article that ruined everything. I knew if I was going to write this thing that I had to be professional and keep my emotions out of it. This wasn't an article I was writing about my boyfriend or a guy I was dating. I was writing about a baseball player with talent who wanted to go pro.

  I did some quick research on the game since I wasn't there. It was no big surprise to find out that Bennett was the shining star that night. The team won the game, of course, and it had a lot to do with their star pitcher.

  I dug into the article and started typing furiously. I was on a mission to write a brilliant article on their victory. I would show all the people who had read the last article that I was clearly so unfazed, I was willing to write my own piece on the team and Bennett Thomas. I removed myself from the article and kept my emotions out of it. This was about Bennett and the talent he had as a pitcher. It had nothing to do with me or us or what would happen between us in the future. This was him and his team and the fact that they were making a name for themselves in baseball. He was a god when he went out onto that pitcher's mound and he stayed that way all through his game. I wrote about his talent and where his passion for the game came from. I wrote about what it was like for him to be on the field and then I went through every aspect of the game and what the players did to become victorious.

  I sat back in my seat, two coffees in, and considered getting a third. I still felt like crap, so it was a clear win to get more. I also drank another glass of water to flush last night out of my system. I considered food options as well at that point, as I was getting hungry.

  I sat back down with my refilled cup and re-read the article. I made corrections as I went through, but had a hard time focusing. I kept thinking about the night we had stayed together and made love. I longed to be with him and wished that the article had never happened. I wanted to be with Bennett, but I didn't see how I could be.

  As I was reading the article, I felt like something was missing from it. It was a pretty great piece, but it needed something more. A quote...I should have a q
uote from Bennett in it. Dammit! I would have to call him, after all. Would I be able to call him and not discuss our dating situation? The last thing I wanted to do was discuss us, especially the way I was feeling that morning. I didn't even want to talk to him. But if I was going to submit the best article that year, then I needed to get a quote from him.

  I went to my bedroom to retrieve my phone and dialled his number as I walked back out to the kitchen.

  It rang once and to my surprise he picked up immediately and said hello. It totally took me off guard that I didn't say anything at first.

  “Hello? Emmi?” he said again.

  “Oh yes, hi, Bennett.”

  “Thank God you called back, I was considering calling you again, but I wasn't sure if you were mad at-”

  “Look, Bennett, I'm just calling because I need to get a quote from you about last night's game for an article I'm writing for the paper.”

  There was a pause and then, “You're writing an article about me and the team?”

  “Yes, it was assigned to me. I didn't really have a choice.”

  “Emmi, I wanted to say that I was sorry about that article and that I didn't have anything to do with it.”

  “Yes, I heard you say that on the message you left me.”

  “Aren't you going to let me explain?”

  “Bennett, all I want right now is a quote. I feel terrible and I need to get this submitted. Our relationship or lack thereof should not be discussed over the phone.”

  “I understand that, Emmi. I just don't want you to be mad at me for something I didn't do. I would never do anything to hurt you – I hope you know that.”

  “Bennett...”

  “Okay, okay. I understand. I will give you your quote under one condition.”

  “And what's that?”

  “You have to agree to see me so that we can talk about this.”