Page 7 of Faking it With the Player Next Door

Chapter Seven

Taylor

O pening my eyes, I saw the sun was just beginning to rise, and I pushed up to sit in my bed. Glancing at the window, I could see the roof of Van’s house next door and sighed.

It’s been a few days since we walked along the trail, talked, and had ice cream. The same day that our little hometown gossip spread like wildfire about our relationship.

“Or whatever it is,” I winced.

As much as I wished things were real, I knew deep down Van was just saving my reputation, and perhaps keeping the peace with Hunter, his best friend, for as long as I’ve been alive, but either way, I wished Van had true feelings for me.

Ever since I was a gawky pre-teen, I daydreamed about being with Van. When he went away to college, and I was crying in Gram’s living room, everyone assumed it was because Hunter was also leaving for college. I never let on to anyone that the tears were meant for Van.

Gram knew better, though. Later that evening, all those years ago, she asked me if it was more than missing my brother. When I began to deny the accusation, she shook her head and told me not to lie.

I broke down and cried on her shoulder for a while before confessing that I was crying over Van. She calmed me down and used her soothing voice to tell me that first loves are the hardest to get over and that someday, maybe things would change, and I’d have a happily ever after.

Just hearing Gram say that made me cry more. I never thought Van would see me for more than I was. To Van, I think I was his best friend’s little sister and someone he grew up with. That pain in the butt next-door neighbor girl who always followed her brother and his best friend everywhere. He would never see me as more than the girl next door, or someone he’d have a romantic interest in.

All this, I frowned, as I said a million times since the ice cream shop visit, whatever this is, was nothing more than Van being a gentleman, and saving grace. Maybe he was even keeping his reputation.

That thought had crossed my mind several times as I readied for bed last night, and I couldn’t shake it. Van was a known ladies’ man, as seen in all the newspaper, tabloid articles, and pictures on social media websites.

Van’s face was plastered all over, everywhere.

I’d hear his name on all the sports shows. He’d been named Rookie of the Year, and his face was on every newspaper, magazine, and city bus advertisement that drove down my street back in the city.

It felt as if Van Willis was mocking me.

And I blame Van for my engagement to Travis.

Yes, I said it. I blame Van for all of it.

The night Travis proposed to me, I’d been sitting at a chair in the Mastro’s Steakhouse facing the street when a city bus slowed down, and I saw Van’s smiling face staring at me.

The dimple on the left side of his cheek, and the added sparkle to one of his teeth caught me. I was mesmerized by Van’s milk chocolate brown eyes and lost in how he seemed to be gazing right back at me.

The advertisement so entranced me, and Van’s face that I didn’t hear Travis’ first proposal. When I glanced at Travis, he was sitting with an opened ring box in his hands, and a beautiful emerald ring gathering the lighting from the restaurant and shining at me.

Travis had an unusual goofy grin, as if he was waiting for me to say something. The first thing that came to my mind was an affirmation.

“Yes?” I spoke, more of a question than a statement, but Travis took that three-letter word as an answer.

So, yes. I blame Van for that.

I backpedaled and wanted to tell Travis it was a misunderstanding, but before I could formulate the words, the kitchen door swung open. Travis’ family, some of our mutual friends, and a few close co-workers piled out.

They were hollering and clapping and began congratulating us. I gasped and never came up with the mistake.

Yes, it was a mistake.

I enjoyed dating Travis. We had fun together, but I wasn’t in love with him—not even close.

Closing my eyes, I flopped back in my bed and groaned. I went from the proverbial flame into the frying pan. From Travis to Van. Was I better off?

Before I could answer the question, my cell phone jingled on the nightstand. Reaching over, I opened my eyes and swiped the phone screen to open the message.

It was from Hunter. He wanted to come by later, and I messaged him back, saying I’d make dinner and we could eat out on the back deck. He agreed, so I decided I should get out of bed and head to the grocery store, as I knew I was limited with what food I had in the house.

Sitting up, I swung my legs over the bed and rubbed my eyes to hopefully help me wake up more. I’d skip a shower until later as I had to clean the house before Hunter arrived. If he showed up and the place wasn’t as spotless as Gram kept it, he’d ride my butt about it.

Slipping into a pair of cut-off denim shorts, and grabbing a clean tee-shirt from the pile on the dresser, all I had left to do was brush my teeth and hair.

Ten minutes later, I was in my car heading towards the small grocery store on this side of town. It may be a small place, but they had the best butcher counter that I knew about in the county.

As I found a parking spot, I considered what I’d make, and if I should invite Van to keep up the appearance. As much as being close to Van caused me to drift back into my old daydreams, I knew I had to get a handle on my feelings and trudge through this farce of a relationship.

Entering the store, I grabbed a grocery cart and decided to invite Van over for the barbecue.

“I mean, what can be bad about it?” I mumbled as I pushed the cart towards the produce department.

After selecting salad items, I moved towards the butcher counter. I knew Hunter loved any meat on the grill, and I decided to go a little overboard and get some ribeye steaks. I had three large baking potatoes in the cart, some asparagus and now I needed some fresh cut steaks.

Coming home, I hadn’t planned on setting my sights on a man, especially Van.

Van has always been the proverbial one who got away. No, that’s not correct. He was the one whom I was never able to have a true romantic relationship with, and we both moved on. Him with his baseball career, and me, with my medical career.

Being around Hunter and Van all of my younger life, and having to listen to them talk about sports, or play sports, when it came time to choose my career, I took the route that seemed to fit.

I spent four years at the University of Virginia to obtain my Master’s Degree in Sports and Health Medicine. I doubled up on my academic credits and transferred some of my collegiate credits from high school. I never thought I’d be able to complete one degree as quickly as I had, but I did.

I had promised Gram I’d work hard, focus on my studies and avoid getting sucked into the party aspect of college, and I did. Gram was impressed with my determination and dedication, and when I came home two semesters before I graduated, she doted on me and bragged to her friends or anyone who would listen.

That visit home was the last time I saw Gram, and my heart breaks every time I think about how I could never show her my diploma. I knew she was proud of me and wanted to do everything I could to make her proud.

When she asked me why I had chosen the field I did, I told her it was because of Hunter and Van. I remember Gram’s dark brown eyes softened when I mentioned Van. She smiled and took my hand in hers. I thought something was wrong, but I laughed when she told me she had always envisioned Van and me being a couple.

I told her that Van would never date me and that he had already left town for college and begun his minor and major league baseball career. Gram shook her head and told me just to wait and see. I scoffed at her and told her Donovan Willis had no interest in me.

I was the little sister of his best friend who lived next door. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Turning down an aisle to head to the butcher’s counter, I saw Van at the other end of the aisle. I raised a hand to wave to him. I opened my mouth to call out so I could talk with him and tell him about dinner that evening, but before he looked in my direction, a tall, slender woman turned the corner of the aisle, and laid a hand on Van’s forearm.

The woman, probably the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen in person, laid her head on Van’s shoulder and leaned up to whisper in his ear. He shook his head, and I swear I heard him snort.

My stomach flopped, and I felt nauseous. Laying a hand on my abdomen, I swallowed hard, tasting the bile building up in my throat. I started to turn around but couldn’t take my eyes off them. It was like a car wreck where you wanted to look away but couldn’t.

When the woman nuzzled into Van’s neck and kissed him, I gasped and turned my shopping cart around. I practically ran down the aisle and stopped when I turned the corner. Catching my breath, I picked up my purse inside the cart and abandoned the food and cart.

I needed to get out of the store, and away from Van and his… What was she? Girlfriend? Some woman who gets with famous people?

“Hell,” I grumbled as I exited the store, and strode across the parking lot. Who is she?

Given the woman’s beauty, I assumed she was someone with notoriety—maybe a model or a low-grade actress.

Slipping into my car, I laid my forehead on the steering wheel, closed my eyes, and her image came to mind. Her long flowing, perfectly styled light brown hair, was streaked with professionally done highlights. Every curl was planned to perfection and bounced when she walked towards Van.

I couldn’t determine her eye color from a distance, but they seemed dark. I assume her makeup was applied, taking a painstakingly long time, and her flawless skin had never seen a pimple or breakout.

“And what’s with her skin?” I raised my head and snorted. “Did she just get off a plane from the Caribbean? I bet she’s the type of girl who doesn’t have a single tan line.”

After the initial shock of seeing Van with the woman, I became enraged. Forgetting about who she was for a minute, my anger grew as I considered that Van could have been using me. He kissed me, all the while having that woman in his life.

“What the hell!” I shouted and slammed an open hand onto the steering wheel. “You fool!”

Right now,, I wasn’t sure who I was mad at more: Van or me. Van for the obvious reason, but for me, it came down to being blindsided and used by Van.

“For heaven’s sake, Taylor,” I scolded, started my car and went back home.

When I got home, I texted Hunter to ask him to reschedule. I feigned not feeling well, and he accepted the lie.

I locked the front door, ran up the stairs, and flopped on my bed. The tears began to fall, and I never left my bedroom for the remainder of the night.

The hurt I felt because of Van was more than I could handle right now. Considering I was still mending my broken heart over Travis’ betrayal, and now the added fiasco with Van, I was at my breaking point.

***

Strolling out of the kitchen with my coffee mug, I sipped the hot brew, settled onto the recliner, and maybe binge-watched some mindless television show. It was Sunday, and I had no plans to leave the house. I’d go to the grocery store tomorrow, and invite Hunter for dinner later.

“But right now, I need a good show to get lost in,” I sipped more coffee, picked up the remote control, and turned on the television.

Sitting in the recliner, I found the streaming service and mindlessly searched for my options. Nothing sounded appealing, so I glanced at the small stack of fiction books I’d picked up one day shortly before leaving Washington, D.C., weeks ago.

I envisioned returning to Coleman, relaxing, and reading some books. But I had yet to pick one up. As I set my coffee cup on the side table next to me, my cell phone dinged, announcing a new message.

Reaching into my robe’s pocket, I retrieved the device, thinking the message may be from Hunter. I groaned when I saw Van’s name on my screen.

“I’m not speaking to you,” I told my phone. “Now, leave me alone.”

Tossing my phone on the table next to my coffee cup, I walked to the books on the sofa table across the room. Flipping through them, I took a cozy mystery and strolled back to the recliner.

Just as I got comfortable, drank most of my coffee, and was halfway through chapter one, my cell phone jingled, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Van was now calling me. Ignoring him, I got up and went into the kitchen for more coffee. When I returned to the living room, my phone beeped, announcing a new voicemail.

“Cripes, Van,” I grumbled. “Just leave me alone.”

Sitting in the recliner again, I picked up the book and continued reading. I finished the first chapter, and my stomach growled, but I was so comfortable that I didn’t feel like getting up.

My phone ringing again caused me to roll my eyes, and I glanced at the screen to see Hunter was now calling me. Sighing, I reached over and answered.

“Hey,” Hunter replied. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Just was feeling…” How did I say this? “Dealing with too many emotions, and betrayal.”

“You can’t let that jerk ruin your life anymore, Taylor,” Hunter sighed. “It’s over. You’re here, and he’s not.”

“I know,” I whispered, closed my eyes, and tried not to lie too much to my brother.

I was speaking about Van, but he was referring to Travis. Either way, my heart was numb.

“Are you sure getting involved with Van so soon after the break up with Travis is such a good idea,” Hunter said. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about that.”

“What about it?” I frowned, not wanting to have this conversation right now.

“Just as I said,” Hunter replied. “Is Van the rebound guy? I don’t want him to get hurt because your emotions are rampant…”

“What!” I exclaimed. “You can’t be serious!”

I jumped up and began pacing the living room.

“Calm down, Taylor…”

“Calm down? Really?” I shouted and walked to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, I stared out the window over the sink, staring at Van’s house. “You don’t want me to hurt Van? What about me getting hurt again?”

“Taylor, you’re taking this the wrong way…”

“Then tell me how I’m supposed to take it,” I growled.

“Let me come over and talk in person,” Hunter replied.

“Not today,” I hissed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Then when?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” I muttered. “I have to go…”

I disconnected the call, stared at Van’s house, and wanted nothing more than to march over there and give him a piece of my mind. But I knew that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d probably have some lame excuse for who the woman was, and I didn’t need another man lying to me. Not when my heart was involved.

I saw movement in the window across the way and ducked down so Van wouldn’t see me. The last thing I needed was for him to come over here. I’d lose it if I saw him face to face.

All I can do is imagine that woman clinging to him in the store yesterday, and the tears begin to flow again.

“You don’t need this, Taylor Miller,” I sniffled. “You don’t deserve this.”

But yet here I am, crying over a man who I had strong feelings for, and getting my heart broken again.

“Life sucks,” I sobbed.

Hours later, someone knocked on the front door. I was so emotionally drained I opened it expecting a confrontation with Van, but instead, I saw Hunter.

I began sobbing again, and he took me in his arms.