Playing With Dynamite

Playing With Dynamite

By Monica Alexander

Copyright 2014 by Monica Alexander

ISBN: 978-1-3119-4784-0

Cover Image: (c) Linda Moon / www.shutterstock.com Stock Photography

Smashwords Edition

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or personals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

About the Author

Playlist

Chapter One

I was the guy who’d lost. I’d missed out. And I knew it the second I saw her. It had been a few years, but she looked just like how I’d remembered her. Long brown hair curled and flowing over her bare shoulders, bright blue eyes and the widest smile I’d ever seen.

God she was beautiful.

I sucked in a breath, not knowing she’d have this effect on me. I’d known I’d see her again, and I’d known it would be today, but nothing prepared me for the onslaught of emotions that smacked me square in the chest the second I laid eyes on her. She was glowing, radiant, and graceful as she walked toward me. She’d always been so graceful.

My breath hitched as she inched closer, the smile never leaving her face. I wanted to go to her, but all I could do was stand there, my hands clasped in front of me, my heart practically pounding out of my chest.

I wasn’t sure if she saw me in the sea of faces. What would she do if she did, when she did? It was inevitable that she would see me. What would she say? Would she share any of the feelings that I was currently experiencing? I didn’t think it was possible after all these years, but there, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, casting her in an angelic glow, I knew I still loved her.

And as she walked past me, her gaze fixed on the front of the church, I felt a stabbing in my chest like nothing I’d ever felt before.

Dude, Annalise looks hot, my brother Chad whispered in my ear as he leaned over into my personal space.

I elbowed him in the ribs, and he grunted, garnering looks from those standing around us.

Douchebag, he muttered.

Asshole, I retorted, and I heard a throat clearing from behind me. I figured it was our neighbor Mr. Sanders.

He’d been the quintessential crotchety old guy who’d yelled and Chad and me to get off of his lawn for years when we were kids, and then when we were teenagers, he’d called the cops when we’d had a party one weekend when our parents were out of town. And even though we were now both adults, apparently he still took issue with us.

Chad just chuckled under his breath, so I elbowed him again, and he grunted once more.

Will you two cut it out, our mother admonished from my right side, leaning around our father to scold us. She’d been standing next to the aisle so she could get the best view of Annalise as she walked by us, and she’d been snapping pictures the whole time. We are in a church. No cursing and no beating each other up.

As the mother of two boys, she’d spent a lifetime telling us to quit hitting each other, quit calling each other names, quit antagonizing each other. She was forever reprimanding us, and even now that we were twenty-eight and twenty-six, she was still doing it. But I guess we were acting like children, so her actions were justified.

He started it, Chad grumbled, always happy to play the role of the victimized little brother.

I rolled my eyes as the minister asked us to please be seated. I swallowed hard as I sat and forced my gaze to the front of the church where Annalise was standing with her back to everyone. My eyes couldn’t help but drift to her backside that her long white dress hugged before falling to the floor. She still had a dancer’s body, even though she’d quit dancing years before. She was so beautiful.

How had I let her go? What was I thinking? And now she was marrying someone else. I felt like I might be sick.

Why hadn’t I realized this before? Now I knew it was too late. She was about to say ‘I do’, and even though I was tempted, the last thing I’d ever do was stand up and object when we were asked to do so – if they even did that anymore. I hadn’t been to very many weddings, so I wasn’t sure, but either way, I wasn’t going to be that guy.

Dude, your knuckles are white, Chad said, and I looked down to see that I was clenching my hands into fists so tight I was cutting off the blood flow to my fingers.

I immediately released them and laid my hands flat on my thighs, but I didn’t look over at my brother. He had to have known what I was thinking. He knew me too well not to be able to tell that I was freaking out on the inside, regret gnawing away at me.

You could be the one standing next to her right now.

I took a deep breath in an effort to silence the voices in my head that were telling me what I already knew. I’d had my chance, and I’d blown it.

Annalise had been the girl I’d loved from as far back as I could remember. She’d lived up the street from us, and when we were kids, we’d played together constantly. She was one of those cool girls who took ballet and tap and jazz classes, but as soon as she got home, she was in her jeans, digging in the backyard for worms with Chad and me, racing through the neighborhood on her bike right behind us and competing with us to see who could make the biggest splash in the pool. She was a girly tomboy, and I was enamored with her from day one.

Although our parents joked about us being destined to be together since birth, we didn’t actually start dating until we were in high school. I’d kissed her our sophomore year, and that was it.

We stayed together through college, even though she was going to school two hours away from me. I’d gotten a scholarship to play baseball at a community college near home in Tampa, and she was going to the University of Florida. But we made it work. She came down to see me pitch when I was starting, and I visited her in the off-season whenever I could.

Everyone expected us to be together forever. I knew our parents assumed I would propose after we graduated college, but to me it had seemed like such a big step. I’d ended up joining her at UF after my baseball days were over, since I wasn’t a good enough player to be picked up by a Division 1 school. By the time we graduated we’d been together for seven years, but I still felt like I wasn’t ready for marriage.

I didn’t think it would be an issue. We’d still stay together. We’d get married later on when we were both ready.

I started working for my dad’s commercial construction company soon after graduation. That had always been the plan. He’d wanted Chad and me to work for him, but he wanted us to get our degrees first. Chad was two years younger than me and was at UCF when I started working for my dad, but we knew he’d come on-board eventually, and down the road, when our dad was ready to retire, we’d be equal owners of the business.

Annalise had graduated with a business degree, and for her first two years out of school, she worked as a pharmaceutical sales rep. I thought she loved her job, but she told me after a year and a half that she didn’t see herself doing it long term. She thought she wanted to go to grad school. I was more than supportive of that, knowing that she’d always loved school. If she wanted to further her education, I was all for it. What I didn’t know was that she was going to apply to a lot of schools, and not just in the US, but also in England.

When she got accepted everywhere she’d applied, and she had her choice of schools, I knew she was going to leave me. She was going to go abroad, since she’d always dreamed of doing that but hadn’t wanted to leave me for a whole semester since we’d already spent our first two years of college apart. In the end, she decided to go to London, and I didn’t even try to stop her. She’d already given up her dream once for me, so I wasn’t about to let her do it again.

And that was when I hesitated. We were twenty-four at that point. It was a perfectly acceptable age to get engaged. No one said we had to be married right away. Hell, she was leaving for two years, so our engagement could be at least that long. But I chickened out. I didn’t ask her, and I let her go all the way to Europe without a damn ring on her finger after nine years of being together, figuring that would be enough. I was an idiot.

The bad part was that I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. She’d already met Jasper – what the fuck kind of name is that anyway – her flatmate, and something had sparked between them. I knew she’d never cheat on me, but when I visited her, I could see the way she looked at him, the way she teased him and laughed a little too loudly at his jokes that weren’t all that funny. He was British, and his humor was British. I didn’t get it.

When I was leaving, I panicked. We were standing outside her apartment, waiting for the cab to arrive to take me to the airport, and I asked her then. I just blurted it out – no speech, no flowery words, not even a ring. My grand gesture was nothing more than, ‘Will you marry me?’

I wanted to swallow my tongue soon after the words left my lips, because the idea of marriage still freaked me out, but the fear of losing her outweighed my fear of nuptials – hence the unrehearsed blurting.

Annalise had looked at me with her head tilted in question for several moments before she started laughing. Are you serious?

Yes? I said, but it came out as a question, so I cleared my throat. I love you, Anna.

She smiled. I love you too, Matt, she said, and then she leaned forward and kissed me. But you’re crazy.

I blinked a few times. Crazy?

She smiled that dazzling smile of hers. Yes. Crazy. But I love you anyway.

So, is that a yes? I asked warily, because I wasn’t sure.

Why are you asking me now?

Uh, because I love you, I told her, not sure what she wanted me to say.

You’ve been here all week, and you choose now, the moment you’re about to head home, to ask me to marry you. I don’t buy it. What’s going on?

She’d caught me. She knew I was panicking.

Nothing. I just want to marry you. That’s all, I said, but even I could hear the strain in my voice.

Do you even have a ring?

No, I said, feeling like I wouldn’t mind if the earth opened and swallowed me whole just then. Anything would be better than her turning me down.

Annalise put her hands on her hips. Ask me again at Christmas, she said, and I was truly puzzled. But then she added, After nine years together I think I deserve more than a fly-by-night proposal on a dirty London street.

She was so right. But at least she hadn’t said no.

Christmas? I questioned, because even though it was only two months away, it seemed like forever.

Yes, Christmas. When you have a ring and can make it official.

I’d already lost her.

I didn’t know it at the time, but had she still been mine, she would have said yes on the spot. After almost a decade together, it shouldn’t have been about a ring or a location or what I said. It should have been about us, but it wasn’t. And looking back, I knew in that moment that she was already gone. I just didn’t want to admit it.

I couldn’t see it then. I wouldn’t let myself see it. So I did what any desperate man would do. I saved up, I bought her the most beautiful ring I could afford, and I crafted the most romantic proposal I could think of. And when she came home at Christmas, I asked her again.

That time she said no. She told me she’d met someone, and after having only dated one person her whole life, she said she needed to explore what it was like to be with someone else. She needed her freedom. Then she kissed me on the cheek, told me she loved me, and walked away from me for good.

That was almost exactly four years ago. She and Jasper were getting married on New Year’s Eve to commemorate the day they’d gotten together. She’d hardly waited three weeks before she moved on from me, and I hadn’t seen her since.

I thought I was over her. I’d done everything in my power to let her go, and I thought it had worked. At first I started going out all the time. I had sex as much as I could, and I went after women who were nothing like the ballerina I’d loved for so long. I hit on edgy girls who were fun and cool and usually didn’t want to get serious. I knew I couldn’t get serious. I needed to have fun. I needed to sow the oats I’d failed to sow when I was younger.

It was almost as if I’d shifted my personal life so far to the opposite end of the spectrum that I couldn’t ever think of Annalise when I was with someone else. It was my way of cleansing her from my mind and my heart, and I’d felt like I’d done a pretty good job of it – at least for a while.

But that only worked for so long, and I realized that meaningless sex wasn’t filling the void she’d left behind. Plus, I was getting pressure from my mother about settling down and getting married. Chad had always been a player, so I knew he wasn’t going to get serious about anyone anytime soon. I’d always been the older, more responsible brother that did things to please the people in his life.

So I started looking for women – who I now realized were exactly like Annalise – who I might be able to see myself settling down with. I hadn’t even consciously realized I was doing it at the time, but I knew that the last three girlfriends I’d had, even though I’d only dated them for a few months each, had been almost carbon copies of her. I wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, and I’d been single for a few months, but I’d gone on a few first dates with a handful of girls I’d met at a wine bar Chad and I liked to frequent. And the girls were all exactly like Annalise.

So it was with startling, unsettling clarity that I realized I’d been trying to replace my ex-girlfriend for years. I wasn’t even close to being over her, and now, seeing her walk down the aisle at her wedding, the thought made me sick to my stomach. It was suddenly stifling hot in the church, and I felt like I couldn’t get enough air.

Had I known I would feel this way when I saw Annalise, I never would have come to her wedding. My mom had asked me if I wanted to go the day the invitation had arrived in the mail. Annalise had sent it to my parents’ address since she didn’t know where I lived. Chad and I had bought a house together two years earlier, and we lived thirty minutes away from our parents. It was still close enough to where our office was, but it was as far from Annalise as I could get, since I knew she’d be home to visit. She and Jasper had settled in London, where she’d gotten a job with a bank after getting her MBA. She wasn’t home often, but I wanted to avoid any chance sightings when she might be in town.

And I had good reasons for that. Case in point, the way I was suddenly feeling. My heart felt like it had been fileted. But at the time, I figured I was over her, so I’d agreed come to her wedding. Big. Fucking. Mistake. And I couldn’t even leave. I was stuck, feeling my stomach churn as I watched Annalise recite her vows and tell Jasper, in front of God and everyone in attendance, that she loved him.

My mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, and gripping my father’s hand. In the front row, I saw Annalise’s parents. I wondered what they thought of Jasper. Did they hate him for taking their daughter away from them? Or did they like his dainty British ways? Did they like him better than me?

I knew he was more successful. He worked in finance, he wore expensive suites, and he made loads of money. I wasn’t struggling, but I worked in a blue collar industry. Even though I was in charge, I still had a farmer’s tan, and my hands were scarred and weathered from using them often. I never hesitated to pitch in when I was needed. We had great crews, but in all honesty, at times, I got bored managing. I’d grown up working with my dad on job sites, and back then I’d been a laborer, so I knew the trade well. Getting my hands dirty just felt better than standing around with a clipboard doing nothing. So I balanced both.

I’d bet Jasper had never even fixed a leaky faucet let alone installed drywall. He seemed like the kind of guy to hire someone to do all of that. In truth, he and Annalise were probably perfect together. They probably did things like go to the theater or the opera or the ballet, and he probably liked doing those things. I’d done those on occasion when Anna and I had been dating, because I knew she loved them, but she’d also compromised and gone to baseball games and rock concerts with me.

I justified that she always had fun. She could eat boiled peanuts and yell at the umpires like a champ, and she’d drink beer and sing at the top of her lungs to the bands she knew I loved. The time I’d taken her to a Linkin Park concert that I knew was so out of her element of comfort, she’d done me proud and wore a mini skirt and knee high boots, just because she knew I liked the look. She’d been so hot that night, and all I’d wanted to do was shove her onto the hood of my car and lose myself in her while she dug those boots into the backs of my thighs, but I knew she drew the line at voyeuristic sex. Not that we would have done anything out in the open, but just once it would have been cool if she would have been a little daring just for me.

I justified that since her I’d gotten my fill of kinky women who liked it rough, liked sex in public places or liked to experiment. I’d be willing to bet that Annalise and Jasper only had vanilla sex. But if I was being honest, in that moment, if it meant I could have her back, I’d settle for missionary style for the rest of my life.

Maybe I didn’t have to go to the reception. Maybe I could just leave. Chad could take a cab home.

You okay, bro, he asked me then, leaning over to whisper so he didn’t disturb the minister who was waxing on about true love and finding happiness with that one person who