Mind Pucked (Chicago Blue Jays #1)

8. Jackson

8

JACKSON

I t’s been a couple days since I was intimate with Amelia, and I don’t know how to make sense of what I’m feeling. I wish someone had given me a handbook or something when I left the hospital without my wife.

No one tells you how to navigate life after loss. No one prepares you for being attracted to other people again, let alone sleeping with them.

I’m sitting on the floor in my bedroom in front of the closet Lyla and I shared, sorting through some of our things. I know it’s already been a couple years, but sometimes it feels like it all happened yesterday. I hadn’t allowed myself to cross that physical line with anyone before Amelia.

I’ve been suppressing that side of myself for so long, for so many reasons. Partly because I’m so busy focusing on Hayden, partly because I don’t want to confuse my daughter by bringing anyone around who might not be permanent, and partly out of loyalty to Lyla.

I know that I fulfilled my vows and I’m allowed to do whatever I want, but damn it still hurts like hell.

I slide a pile of papers, documents, and other items toward me. Some of these things I just shoved into the closet because I couldn’t deal with them at the time.

There’s something about getting rid of things that belonged to her that feels like I’m letting more of her go. One of the best realizations I had after being with Amelia was that I may be more ready to face certain things than I realized. Plus, the fact that I was so terrified to bring a woman back into the bedroom I shared with Lyla was a sign to me that I need to reconsider my setup inside this house.

Lyla is everywhere I look, and a new woman would pick up on it immediately. I know it would make us both uncomfortable.

As I pick up some old bills that I paid online months ago, I remember something I read once about getting rid of things. It said that if the thought of letting it go made me sick to my stomach, maybe it wasn’t time yet. However, if I could wrap my head around it and didn’t have such a visceral reaction, maybe the time had come to let it go.

The overwhelming guilt I once felt about letting anything go of anything with Lyla’s name on it has lessened considerably. I guess enough time has passed that I can recognize that getting rid of some old bills doesn’t mean I love her any less.

They’re just bills. I scoop them up and put them in a pile to be thrown away.

Next I find a copy of our marriage certificate and the appraisal for the wedding ring I bought her.

My heart sinks as I read over the details of our union in black ink. This is the type of sentimental item that does make me sick to think of getting rid of, so I place it in a keep pile.

I try to hold back the tears as snippets of our wedding day flash in front of my eyes. The way she smiled that day is a shocking contrast against the memory of her lifeless body after the crash. I curse my brain for hanging on to the negative memories just as fiercely as the good.

“Hi, Daddy,” I hear a sweet little voice say.

I turn to find Hayden in the doorway with a Barbie doll.

“Hey, munchkin, what are you up to? I thought you were playing.”

“I was,” she confirms, “but I don’t feel like playing all alone anymore.”

“Fair enough,” I say. It’s ironic in a way, because that’s exactly what life has been like since Lyla left. At some point, it gets tiring going at it alone.

She takes a few steps toward me and notices the piles I have going.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

She sits down on her knees and observes the piles as she twists the Barbie doll’s head around and around and around. There’s no great way to explain things to her, as I know she’s young and might not fully understand. I owe it to her to try though.

“I’m deciding what of Mommy’s we should keep and what of Mommy’s we can say goodbye to.”

“But why do you have to say goodbye to any of it?”

“Well…I guess when we get rid of old things that don’t have any real meaning anymore, we can make room for newer things. And we can keep the things that make us smile forever and ever.”

I decide on a few more things for the toss pile. It’s nothing very important, just some receipts, a cafeteria lunch card from her old job, and some flyers she’d printed off for a bake sale. I find a picture of her at the park with Hayden and we both light up at the sight of it.

I thought I had gathered most of the pictures up after the funeral to put in an album, but this one must have snuck through. Hayden is all smiles on the baby swing, and Lyla looks as beautiful as ever, her hair wild from a gust of wind.

Hayden points her finger at the picture. “Look! We’re at the park!”

“Your mom loved taking you to the park…any time she got to spend with you was so special. Think we should put this in the keep pile?”

Hayden flashes a smile with all her cute baby teeth showing and gives me a big thumbs up.

“Alright then…and what do you say about going to the park right now?”

Hayden flings Barbie from her hands and claps. “Can we? Now?”

I smile and run my fingers through the top of her hair. “You bet.”

Hayden is so excited about the park, but I want to spoil her extra today. Sometimes I wonder if I go overboard, but I can’t help it. I always want her to know how loved she is.

Plus, I’m afraid that having talks about her mom might bring on some feelings of sadness. I always want to balance the sad feelings about her mom being gone with some good feelings.

The local creamery is only a few minutes up the road and serves the most delicious homemade ice cream, and we stop in for a cone. Hayden looks adorable covered in chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. It’s dripping down her chin and she can hardly keep up with it melting away.

I take the ice cream cone from her and lick the sides a little bit to help her keep it under control. I take some napkins and clean her up as she giggles. It’s in these little moments when I wish more than anything that Lyla could be here.

I can’t believe how much I’m thinking of her right now. It’s not like she isn’t always on my mind, but I wonder if what happened with Amelia has me ramping up my memories even more.

My mind must be trying to reconcile the past and the present somehow. I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is guilt or regret, or just fear of life moving forward.

Once she finishes her ice cream cone and we get her cleaned up, Hayden widens her eyes and points to a small display of balloons on the counter. One of them is bright yellow with a giant happy face. “Daddy! Look!”

“I see it,” I say, and the pangs of dad guilt once again tug at me. I don’t want to ruin our day with breakdowns and tears, and I want to keep her in good spirits as I have a feeling more questions or conversations about her mom might crop up at the park.

I’ve become such a softy I can’t even believe it myself sometimes. I hope Lyla would be proud.

“I’ll take the yellow one,” I say, walking toward the cashier and pulling out my wallet.

“Take it,” the cashier says, smiling. “They’re actually for the little kids.”

I smile and take a few dollars out, putting it in the tip jar before grabbing the balloon in one hand and Hayden’s hand in the other.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Hayden squeals, and I’m on top of the world.

Once we buckle up, we head down the street to the park. It isn’t overly crowded when we arrive.

I’ve always had mixed feelings coming back to the park, being that it was one of Lyla’s favorite places to come with Hayden as a baby. I know I can’t avoid familiar places though, and it’s good for me, just like cleaning out her things.

We spend some time walking around the park. Tall trees line the walkway between the part of the park that’s meant for the smaller kids and the other park area that caters to the bigger kids.

Hayden is running around with her arms out to her side like an airplane, the balloon tied to her wrist. I can’t believe how big she’s gotten these last few years.

I nod my head at some of the people passing by, riding bikes or speed-walking with their partners. An older woman is walking with her dog, a furry little thing who stops and sniffs me.

The woman apologizes and tries tugging the dog away from my leg when Hayden sees what’s happening and starts running.

“Puppy!” she yells, and her legs are like the wind as she races to us.

“Let’s be gentle,” I remind her once I get the okay from the owner that it’s alright for Hayden to pet the pup. I lean down and show her how to greet the dog by letting it sniff me first and going under its mouth instead of aggressively coming at it from above.

Hayden moves her hand in and I watch as the string of the balloon comes loose and the balloon begins floating into the air. I do my best to try and snatch it but the wind picks up and it’s out of my reach before I can grab it. Hayden lets out a whine and her shoulders immediately deflate with defeat.

The dog becomes a bit agitated at her reaction and starts barking at her. This only makes Hayden more upset, and the owner flashes a sympathetic look and apologizes under her breath before keeping it moving with the dog.

It isn’t until I glance up that I see Amelia and a friend jogging up the walkway while chitchatting. Amelia spots the scene going on between me and Hayden and jogs over to us.

As if Hayden being upset over the balloon and the dog isn’t enough, seeing Amelia has me more overwhelmed than I ever anticipated I’d be during a quick fun outing at the park.

“Hey,” Amelia says, sympathy in her voice as she takes a knee to see if Hayden is okay. “Are you okay? What in the world happened?”

Hayden points to the sky where the balloon has gotten caught in some branches far too high to be able to retrieve it. As I look down on their interaction, I can’t help but feel such a relief that Amelia came into Hayden’s life—she’s so good with her.

I also can’t help but notice how good Amelia looks in her workout gear. It’s tight in all the right places and flashes of our time together come flooding back. I try to look away before I make it awkward, and I say a quick hi to her friend. She looks so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on where I may know her from.

“Hey, I’ll bring you a balloon the next time I come to see you, okay?” Amelia reassures Hayden, squeezing her gently. She asks Hayden if she would like to meet her friend, introducing the woman she’s with as Brooke. Hayden lessens her sniffles and gives the friend a little wave. I’m glad to see things turn around so quickly, but I’m not sure what to say to Amelia.

Amelia already had the last couple days scheduled as her days off, which means I haven’t seen her since we had sex. And I never called. I never sent a follow-up text. I dropped the ball in every possible way on that front. I have no idea what she might be thinking, and she can’t possibly know what I’m thinking.

All I’ve been able to think since it happened is that what we did is wrong, and I can’t keep going down this road. She’s too young. It’s not appropriate.

“I don’t want to assume anything though,” Hayden says, directing her statement to me. “I’m not sure my services are still necessary.”

“Of course they are,” I say.

My response is almost instinctual, before I have a real chance to think of a reason why they wouldn’t be. I also know that I’ll likely be getting bugged by the boys to go out over the weekend.

It doesn’t matter how many times I try to convey my preference to stay in and do nothing, it doesn’t stop them from trying to get me to go out with them. This time, I’m considering it. I know I’ve made a lot of progress this week with my efforts to move forward. Whether I was planning on being intimate with Amelia or not, it was a huge step in permitting myself to do something I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing for the past two years. Taking the steps to clear out a few more things was big as well.

It could be time to keep trying new things, and to stop being so afraid of what might happen if I get out into the world.

“I’m sorry it’s so last minute,” I continue, “I know your next scheduled day isn’t until Monday, but I could really use your help this weekend if you aren’t too busy. I think I’m going out with the guys and could use a hand.”

Amelia flashes a smile and leans down to Hayden, nudging her gently on the shoulder. “You hear that, kiddo? It’s your lucky day. You’ll get your balloon soon. I’m coming by this weekend.”

Hayden smiles through her drying tears and offers up an enthusiastic, “Yay!”

“Great,” I say. “I’ll text you the details as soon as I have them, okay?”

“Yep,” she says. “You do have my number…”

The way she says that last part could be a small dig at my failure to contact her over the last few days, though I could be overthinking it. I’m so out of practice with dating, casual relationships, or interactions with women in general that I don’t know what to do with it other than brush it off.

I’m only glad things have been smoothed over enough that I don’t have to worry about never seeing her again or leaving Hayden disappointed. Even if Amelia isn’t right for me, she’s right for Hayden.

It isn’t until Friday that I get a chance to think about anything other than the awkward interaction between Amelia and myself. It’s been consuming my brain, and I know I need an escape from it.

When Dean calls and asks how I feel about getting the kids together for a playdate I’m more anxious to say yes than usual. I need the distraction and a break from playing dad so intensely. It’s always easier to decompress with other parents around.

By the evening, I have a few snacks out for everyone to munch on and when the doorbell rings Hayden runs over to it. She’s always thrilled to see Dean and Quinn’s little ones, especially since they have a little girl she can play with.

The moment she opens the doors, the kids are already running into the playroom together. I invite Dean and Quinn in as we laugh and shake our heads at the kids’ excitement.

We sit down in the living room, and as I stretch my arms out on the couch where I had sex with Amelia, I can feel myself squirming in my seat. It’s strange having information like that on my mind while Dean and Quinn are trying to catch up on the week’s events.

I don’t even realize I’m zoning out until Dean is snapping his fingers and trying to get my attention. I attempt to laugh it off. I don’t even know how long I’ve been staring out into the air.

“You okay?” Dean asks. “You seem a little out of it, bud.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I say, shrugging it off and grabbing a chip from the table. “It’s just been a long week.”

“Oh yeah?” Quinn asks. “What’s been going on around here?”

I think their jaws would drop open if I told them I had passionate sex on the very couch I’m sitting on with someone who is not Lyla and many years my junior. It isn’t that I don’t think they would be happy for me to be moving forward in some way, but they wouldn’t expect it from me.

“Just a lot of stuff with Hayden,” I say. “Did some cleaning up around here. We’re getting into a new routine with the nanny I hired.”

“Oh, Jackson,” Quinn says, sighing in relief. “I’m so glad to see you getting some help around here with Hayden. It can’t be easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how you do it,” Dean says. “You sure you’re alright though, bro? You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” I say, faking a small smile and casually grabbing another chip.

“Would you leave him alone?” Quinn says. She nudges Dean and gives a slight eye roll, “Who wouldn’t be tired with everything on his plate?”

“Thank you, Quinn.” I toast her with a chip dripping in dip and glare at Dean for being an all-too-overbearing friend. “I’m fine.”

“Then come out with us,” Dean says. “You said you’ve got the nanny now, right? You don’t have any more excuses to skip another boys’ night.”

Quinn crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “Dean and his boys’ nights. I swear, it’s like I have another child in the house at times.”

“You go on your girls’ trips. The man needs to get out of this house.”

Quinn nods her head in agreement. “He has a point. It might be nice for you to get out. And that’s coming from me, Jackson…”

“I did tell Amelia I might need her this weekend,” I admit.

Dean’s face lights up and he claps. “Finally!”

He takes his cell phone out and calls someone. Quinn flashes him a look like she can’t believe he’s being so over-the-top about this. Dean points his finger at my phone and is mouthing me to text the nanny while his phone rings on speakerphone.

“Hello,” someone answers. I think it’s Oliver.

“Hey, I’m here with Jackson and Quinn. Guess who’s coming out tomorrow?”

“At this point, I might go with Quinn,” Oliver jabs.

“In your dreams,” Quinn says. “I’ve got a date with my reality shows.”

I can’t believe it, but I’ve got my phone out and I’m confirming with Amelia that she can come over tomorrow night to watch Hayden. I haven’t been out in so long. There’s a part of me that hopes she’ll text back and tell me something came up and she can’t make it.

“Jackson, you really coming out with us tomorrow?” Oliver asks.

I barely have time to set my phone down again when I get the vibration of a response. Amelia texted back immediately that she’ll be here, with a smiley face emoji. It’s been arranged, and there’s no getting out of now.

“Looks that way, buddy,” I say. “Now you can all shut up about it.”

“Not likely,” Oliver quips back. “We’re going to get you your groove back.”

I can’t help but laugh a little bit. As terrified as I am, it always feels good to have something to look forward to again after a long time sitting it out.

The next night, I’m in the car with the guys on my way to the club. I managed to hand Hayden off to Amelia by exchanging as few words with her as possible. It was cordial and polite enough, but still tense. I know I need to have a real conversation with her soon.

“I can’t believe you came out,” Oliver says, grabbing my shoulder to loosen me up.

Dean is driving, Vaughn is in the front seat, Oliver is on my right, and Felix is by himself in the third row of Dean’s truck. I know they’re going to go above and beyond tonight, being that I haven’t been out in so long.

I think Oliver and Felix must have already been having some drinks before we came out, because the car has the smell of alcohol to it even though there aren’t any drinks in here with us.

When we pull up to the club, it’s packed. There’s a long line of people waiting to get in, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen so many scantily clad women in a row. I feel like I might need to have a drink just to be able to relax around so many gorgeous women.

I’m shocked as we pour out of the truck and walk up to the line only to be shuttled right on through the doors. Dean shakes the bouncer’s hand and gives him a pat on the back—it seems like they have some sort of arrangement going.

We walk right on through the club and pass the men sitting around the stage, all ogling the woman in pasties and a thong in the center stage. We pass tables where groups of people are sharing some hard liquor and bottles of champagne on ice.

Before I know it we’ve walked the entire distance of the club to a pink curtain separating us from the rest of the place.

“Whoa,” I say. “What is this?”

“It’s an ode to you joining us out here, man,” Dean says.

We’re immediately greeted by a server who takes our drink orders. Dean takes the couple of drinks that are already on the server’s tray and hands one to me. I gladly take a few gulps to loosen up. I haven’t been out like this in a long time, and I don’t know what they have up their sleeves.

We take a seat on the velvet couch that wraps around the room. Flashing lights from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling circle around the darkened room. The music is blaring, and I keep sipping on my drink as I see Oliver get up to talk to someone else who works at the club.

After Oliver takes a seat, the four of us are just sitting listening to the music when four girls walk in. They’re all topless, with the tiniest string thongs covering their front. Tall, short, blonde, brown hair—they’re all extremely attractive.

I’m still taking them all in when they each go their separate ways toward the four of us. The second my girl is near me, I feel my dick reacting in my pants. She has the tightest body with perky tits. I can hardly pull my eyes away from her, but I only manage to look away long enough to notice that Dean is whispering in his stripper’s ear and giving her money, politely asking her to not give him a dance.

I’m relieved he’s being respectful to Quinn, because I’d hate to have to be responsible for knowing something like that and feel guilt or the obligation to tell her. I’m somewhat jealous of him, because I would have done the same thing for Lyla.

The stripper pulls my face back toward her, and her dancing is hypnotizing as she gyrates in front of me. She brings her chest toward my face, and her tits are so supple I could lick them. I immediately flashback to my time with Amelia and how much I loved having her breasts in my mouth.

Even as the stripper takes her finger and places it under my chin, giving me the most intense eye contact as she begins to straddle me, all I can think of is Amelia climbing on top of me and the way it felt when I entered her.

It’s almost too much, and I can’t concentrate on what’s happening in front of me without it creating an uncomfortable ache I can’t do anything about. I want to enjoy this beautiful woman dancing all over me, but it’s too much like the experience I had with Amelia to get my mind off of the very thing I was hoping I could get my mind off of tonight.

I slip her a wad of cash and excuse myself. Oliver and Felix are so caught up in their good time they hardly even notice that I’m leaving the private room. Dean immediately gets up and grabs my arm, checking to make sure I’m alright.

“Bathroom break,” I say, half smiling to downplay the fact that I’m just trying to get the hell out of there.

Dean nods and returns to his seat on the couch. I feel a rush of relief once I’m on the other side of the curtain, even though the club is as energetic as ever.

I know that since I’m already out, I should take the opportunity to relax. I don’t need an intense lap dance to have a good time. I call the bartender over and order myself a drink.

It’s not like me, but I gulp it down completely the second it reaches me. I notice some girls sitting at the bar looking cute and ask the bartender to send them drinks on me. I take a seat and enjoy another drink when one of the girls looks over at me and gives me a flirtatious look.

We both stand up and walk toward each other. She thanks me for the drink I sent her and we dance together a little bit.

I wouldn’t normally dance so comfortably with a perfect stranger, but the drinks seem to be hitting me hard. She moves in on my body, moving her hands around and down my back. I can’t believe it, but even more than the guilt I feel about Lyla, the rush of thoughts and memories of Amelia are back in my brain.

“I’m sorry,” I say, realizing that the night is an epic fail. I need to get out of here. I need to get home, back to Hayden, back to bed where I belong.

I can tell I’m feeling buzzed as I walk to the front of the club. I don’t want to bother the guys who seem to be having a good time, so I take my cell phone out and call an Uber. I then text Dean, saying that I’m sorry but I’m not feeling good. I’ll need to take a rain check on coming out again.

I’m already driving off when I get a text from Dean telling me to feel better. I’m surprised he isn’t giving me a hard time, considering how out of his way he must have gone to make tonight a more than special event.

I’m just thankful to be home as the Uber pulls up to the house.

As I get out of the car, I spot Amelia’s car in the driveway and remember that I still need to face her, to send her on her way. She’s sitting on the couch, in the same spot where I last saw her naked.

She looks up from her phone and must notice I’m a little wobbly on my feet because she’s right next to me in just a few seconds.

“Are you okay?” she asks, ushering me to the nearest chair. “Can I get you water or something? Something to eat?”

As she’s leaning down, I can’t help but put my hand on her cheek and give her a deep kiss. When we pull away, she’s looking at me breathlessly, confused. The only thing I can think to say is what I’ve been thinking all night as the other girls were all over me.

“The only thing I want to taste is you.”

“Maybe some other time, okay? You seem pretty drunk.”

She takes me by the hand and leads me through the house, up the stairs, and to the bedroom. A part of me wonders if she’s going to change her mind and let me have her as soon as we reach the bed. Instead, she helps me sit down on the edge of the bed, watches me kick my shoes off, and tucks me in under the covers. I haven’t felt this intoxicated in a long while.

She leans in and gives me a small, sweet kiss. “Have a good night, okay? Hayden’s been asleep for a little while. I’ll just see myself out.”

Just the smell of her has me excited. The taste of her lips has me craving her. I want her again. I want her body all over mine. I can feel the growing need in my pants. I can’t tell her that though. I know she probably thinks I’m a jerk after not contacting her this whole time and pushing for only one thing.

She leaves the room and closes the door behind her. I’m left with a raging hard-on and I don’t know what to do with it except take care of it.

I pull my pants down and grab onto my cock as the taste of Amelia lingers on my lips. I imagine her opening the door again and telling me she’s changed her mind.

I remember what her body felt like all over mine, what her lips felt like wrapped around my desperately hard cock. I rub myself vigorously as I imagine myself fucking her brains out, her moans in my ear, and the bounce of her tits as she rides me. I climax in minutes, the release so good after thinking about her all night.

I do a half attempt at cleaning myself up a bit so I can sleep comfortably, and before I know it, I’m passed out in this darkness. It isn’t until I open my eyes again and the sun is glaring through the window and Hayden is knocking at my door that I realize how awkward and how much worse I made things with Amelia last night.

I can’t quite piece it all together, but I know I’m in so much deeper with her now, and I have no idea what in the hell to do about it.