By a Thread Page 2

  “I don’t know, I think it’s kinda sexy. Like I know what you look like naked,” Stella heard in a slow, sexy southern drawl. Her eyes popped open and she found herself staring at the guy with the drawl. One of the best-looking guys she’d ever seen in person. His hair was cut short and looked sandy blond in the sun. He had blue eyes and an actual six-pack. Stella had never seen a guy with a six-pack in person before, and it made her want to touch him. She laughed, noticing that he had the same farmer’s tan that she and the softball players sported.

  Stella cocked her head to the side and just looked at him.

  “What?” Six-pack asked.

  “I’m just following suit and picturing you naked.” She said, then closed her eyes.

  “Me too.” Cassie said with a giggle.

  “Now I am too,” one of his friends piped up loudly. “Damn it. Someone help me get that image out of my mind.”

  Six-pack leaned down to whisper into her ear, “I think you missed a spot.” His fingers grazed the small of her back, just above her bikini bottoms, and her body tensed instantaneously at the spark she felt. Sexual chemistry crackled between them.

  Stella used her sweetest voice, “Oh, really? Could you get it for me?”

  “Damn right I can.” He leaned over to grab the lotion, but she got to it first.

  “Oh, I was talking to Cassie.” She threw the bottle to Cassie. “Thanks, though.”

  Cassie snorted again, “It looks fine to me.” Cassie yelled to the other guys, “Ya’ll got any beer over there you can share?”

  “Of course,” one of the guys replied. Cassie got up, sauntered over to the baseball players, grabbed a beer out of their cooler, and sat down with them.

  “Ya’ll play ball?”

  Stella overheard the conversation and was interested. These were all baseball players and seemed to be pretty cool. Six-Pack’s name was Jamie, he was a sophomore. He was a pitcher. Confidence exuded from him and he seemed to be pretty smart and funny. Those were three mandatory traits for Stella before she would even look at a guy. She never fell for the type of guy who looked good, but annoyed the shit out of her as soon as he opened his mouth.

  “Stella, you want a beer?” Cassie called.

  “Sure.” Stella turned just as Cassie threw the beer at her. She had two options, she could sit up and catch it, showing everyone her boobs, or the beer was going to hit her... somewhere.

  “Fuck,” she called out as she rolled over to dodge the beer coming at her face. She fell off the chair, but managed to keep her hands covering her nipples. For a moment everyone was quiet. Then all of the occupants of the pool erupted in laughter. Stella turned forty shades of red and tried to figure out how to get up gracefully. Realizing there was no way to cover her nipples, get up, and grab her bikini top with only two hands, she gave up. Stella stood up, grabbed her bikini top, and with her chin raised walked to the bathroom, showing everyone all she had.

  Several hours later everyone was good and drunk, playing truth or dare, and it was Stella’s turn. She picked dare.

  “Kiss me,” Jamie said, leaning back in a lounge chair with a smug smile on his face.

  Stella got up from where she was sitting and leaned over him. She whispered in his ear, lips grazing his lobe, “You may regret this dare.” Stella kissed his neck, which made him tip his head back. She slowly kissed his top lip. He groaned, and she went for the kill parting his lips with hers. All of a sudden his arms wrapped around her, pulling her on top of him in the chair. She forgot where she was, and that they had an audience until she heard someone clear their throat.

  Stella ripped her lips away from Jamie’s and took a long breath. She put her fingers to her mouth, and looked into Jamie’s eyes. Holy fuck, she thought. There’s no going back from that.

  Jamie’s arms still wrapped around her, he whispered, “I think you may be right.” Stella thought for a minute he had read her thoughts. Then he said, “Best regret ever.”

  Stella smiled. She pulled herself out of his arms, separating their bodies. Suddenly she felt too drunk, too high on the feeling she got from kissing this guy she just met, and too naked. She walked over to where her bag was and checked her phone. She felt arms wrap around her again.

  “You need to come with me. NOW.” His lips whispered in her ear.

  “And why’s that?” Stella shivered and turned around so that she could look in his eyes.

  “You’re pretty much naked and I need to be the only one looking at you.” He reached up and rubbed his thumb down her jaw line. “I need to kiss you, more.”

  If she hadn’t been drunk, she wouldn’t have gone home with him. But she was drunk, and she followed him home. Immediately.

  Chapter Three

  Cooper ran up and down the beach chasing and barking at every bird that flew overhead. Stella sat in the sand motionless, staring at the waves. Patrick had arranged for a rental house on Tybee Island, right outside Savannah, for the funeral. He also gave Stella a bottle of Zanax after he told her about Jamie. He’d thought of everything. Cooper ran up to her and shook his wet fur, spraying salt water all over her. She didn’t even flinch. He made a couple circles around Stella and then dropped at her feet. She was still in the clothes she was wearing when she heard that Jamie was dead.

  “Stella.” Patrick yelled a couple yards away. He was in his dark suit, looking very debonair. Glancing down at his watch, he tapped it once and said, “Let’s go.”

  Slowly, she stood up and robotically motioned for Cooper to follow. She walked stoically to the house they were renting, or Patrick was renting. Patrick followed her, Cooper leading both of them up the stairs into the rented house. She walked to the room where her dress was hanging and mechanically put on her only black dress and her red heels, paying no attention to the sand that dotted her feet and legs.

  Without speaking, Stella motioned for Cooper to follow her outside and opened the door to Patrick’s silver Audi and let Cooper jump in with fur still wet from the beach.

  “Stella!” Patrick yelled as Cooper was jumping into the backseat. “Fuck,” he muttered as Cooper made himself comfortable in the backseat. “You can’t bring your fucking dog to a funeral.”

  Stella slid into the passenger’s seat and shut the door, staring forward. Patrick shook his head. She hadn’t said a word since he told her about Jamie. On the way down to Savannah, Patrick used her cell phone to call her parents.

  Patrick parked in one of the few remaining open spaces in front of the church. Stella put Cooper on the leash. He walked right by her side into the church. “Ma’am... Ma’am.” A woman called after them. The woman chased after Stella and Cooper, her heels clicking quickly on the tile floor. “Ma’am, you can’t bring a dog in the church.” Ignoring her, Stella kept walking and looked for a place to sit. Jamie’s sister, Sara, motioned Stella to sit by her. Sara reached out and grabbed Stella’s hand with a death grip. They did not speak to each other, only held each other’s hands.

  Tears fell continuously throughout the funeral. Stella never said a word. Sara released Stella’s hand with a squeeze and joined the rest of Jamie’s family, without a word. Stella wasn’t family, she was almost family. Apparently, almost family didn’t count for much. Inspecting her ring, she wondered if she would be able to keep it. She and Cooper stayed seated as the rest of the church emptied. Stella stared at the closed casket. How was this possible?

  She felt a hand on her shoulder. “Come on Stella, they are doing the burial right away.” Patrick stood in the aisle waiting for her to move. They can’t do the burial without the casket, Stella thought. So, she remained seated, until six guys came to move Jamie. She recognized most of them. It was only after the church was empty that Stella rose and pulled on Cooper’s leash.

  Patrick put his hand on her elbow and led her back to his car. At the cemetery, Stella and Cooper stood behind all the seated guests and listened to the minister speak, pray, and then dismiss everyone. A collective sob erupted from the seats where Jamie�
��s family and friends were all sitting, eyes red-rimmed. So many people came up to her to offer sympathy, but she couldn’t speak. Eventually, they all left her alone. When the service was over and all the attendees had gone, she and Cooper made their way up to the casket, then Jamie was lowered in the ground. He’s in the ground, she thought, this cannot be real.

  Stella sunk to her knees next to the hole where Jamie had been placed in the ground, then lay on her side. She let out one quick sob, then nothing. She felt like she didn’t have any tears left. She lay on the ground next to the hole, her dress riding up. Cooper lay next to her, his head on her side. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Patrick picked her up, carried her over to his car, and put her in. He leaned in and pulled the seatbelt over her to latch it.

  Stella didn’t even realize her mom and dad had been at the funeral until she saw her father walking over to Patrick’s car after the service. It’s a closed casket, she thought, the accident must have been bad. She wasn’t paying attention to her dad, she just stared out the front of the car. Stella’s mom was standing a few feet back from the car, crying. Jamie’s parents didn’t even try to talk to her, which was fine since she had totally imploded, and was physically incapable of speaking. There was nothing left. Her mind was completely turned off, and she felt like she was nothing but nerve endings.

  “Stella, talk to me baby.” Stella’s dad was stooped over her, smoothing her black hair. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” As if the faucet in her eyes had been turned back on, tears began falling. Big wet drops landed on her dress and absorbed by the fabric. She didn’t even try to wipe them away anymore. Her big green eyes were full of tears and devastation. “Patrick, take my card. If this keeps up call or email me and I will come up and get her.” Her dad looked tired, she thought. Patrick and Stella’s father walked over to her mother and they spoke in hushed voices.

  Stella closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing, but she didn’t really want to breathe. Just breathe. She couldn’t wrap her brain around her situation. She was in a house with two guys she didn’t know, in a city where she didn’t know a soul and now she was all alone. Alone. Her mother made her way to the car, her black hair perfectly coifed; she was clutching her pearls. She didn’t speak to Stella, but smoothed her hair back and kissed her cheek. Then she turned and walked away.

  She and Jamie had decided they were going to get married in St. Simons Island off the coast of Georgia next summer. She’d already found her dress. It had exquisite beading on the torso, drawing attention to her narrow waist. Other than the beading, it was a simple backless dress. The fabric was light, perfect for a beach wedding.

  As the car made the drive back to Tybee Island, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. Arctic air from the air conditioner blasted so hard from the vents it blew loose strands of black hair back. Once she felt the car stop, she opened her eyes. Jamie’s dead. Stella let Cooper out of the backseat and walked up to the door. She stood there, waiting for Patrick to let her in the house.

  The noise of her heels clicking across the tile floor of the main room vibrated through her chest. She opened the door to the room where her things were and collapsed onto the bed, heels still on her feet.

  Patrick with his military precision, his shaved head, and his cold demeanor had moved her through the events of the day. Stella didn’t understand why he would, he didn’t know her at all. Cooper crawled into Stella’s bed at the rental house and laid his head right next to hers on the pillow, his big paw resting on her arm. Stella closed her eyes, but didn’t sleep. She had lived through the day. Even though she thought at least a million times she was going to die, she was still breathing. She didn’t know what came after this. Where would she go? She had no home. Jamie had been her home.

  Chapter Four

  Stella walked with Cooper down the stairs into the room she and Jamie shared for only one night. She slid down the wall, sat on the floor and glared at all his things... all the unlabelled boxes she would have to go through, all of his things. She sobbed again, even though she thought she was out of tears. Could she please just run out of fucking tears! She opened a box of Jamie’s. Stella pulled out his old college baseball jersey. Inhaling deeply, she smelled him. Clementines. Tearing off her clothes, she slipped it over her head and crawled into their bed. Sometime later she felt Cooper climb up on the platform bed and lay next to her.

  Stella only got out of her bed to use the bathroom, which wasn’t often since she didn’t drink anything all day. She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, but she didn’t look up.

  “Okay, I’m going to give you two more days of this shit before I take things into my own hands.” She felt something hit the pillow next to her bed. Patrick had thrown a protein bar and a bottle of water on her bed.

  Stella didn’t respond.

  Two days later, true to his promise, Patrick returned downstairs after work. Throwing the covers off Stella, he picked her up, legs flailing. In two steps he was in the bathroom, where he threw her in the bathtub. He turned on the water, full blast, soaking her, and finally forcing a reaction out of Stella.

  “Holy shit, Patrick,” she yelled as she put her hands up, attempting to block the water from her face. In less than thirty seconds she was soaked from head to toe, including Jamie’s baseball jersey.

  “You stink and you haven’t eaten in days. If you don’t get your ass upstairs right now and eat what I cooked for dinner I will call your fucking daddy. Is that how you want to be treated? Like a child who can’t take care of herself?” With that, Patrick turned and walked up the stairs.

  Stella was stunned, then pissed. She stomped up the stairs after him, soaking wet in nothing but Jamie’s white baseball jersey. When she got to the kitchen, she glared at Patrick and stomped over to the table, sitting down next to a guy she had never seen.

  “Well hello there, hot stuff,” the stranger said, looking over at Patrick. “I’m guessing this is our new roommate?”

  “Yep,” Patrick said, grabbing a towel and mopping up the water rolling off Stella’s body.

  “Hopefully you will attend all group dinners in a wet, white T-shirt.” The guy took in her appearance and raked his hand through his shaggy, dirty-blond hair that reached just past his ears. He pushed his tortoise-shell glasses up the bridge of his nose. Dressed in what appeared to be a white undershirt shirt and suit pants, it was clear he had just gotten home from work. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown and full of humor.

  “You know my fiancé just died, right?” Stella spouted at the stranger.

  “Um,” Billy Stevens looked down at his plate. “Yeah, sorry to hear about that.”

  “Whatever.”

  “What made you finally get out of your bed? It looks like Patrick threw you in the shower...”

  “And threatened to call my daddy,” she made air quotes to emphasize the word daddy.

  “Wow, Patrick, that’s pretty dirty.” Billy still looked amused.

  “Well, she can’t stay in her bed forever. She is supposed to start law school in a week.”

  “How the fuck do you know when I’m suppose to start law school?” she yelled at him belligerently.

  Patrick put a plate of stir-fry and a beer in front of her on the table.

  “Just to warn you both, now that I’m out of my bed, you may want to run and get more alcohol. I plan to drink until I pass out. Ready... go.” Stella took the beer and swallowed it in two gulps.

  “Holy shit, I’m in love,” Billy exclaimed, eyes going wide.

  Stella ignored him and motioned for Patrick to get her another beer, which he did.

  “I guess functioning, even while drunk, is better than not functioning at all,” Billy said shrugging his shoulders.

  Patrick took in Stella, everything about her. She looked at him, “What are you looking at?”

  “Well, you are basically nude at the table with two dudes. What do you think I’m looking at?”

  “You’re th
e one who forced me out of my bed.” She threw a piece of chicken to Cooper.

  “So what’s your plan, you’ve been laying in your bed for four days. Certainly you have formulated a plan by now.”

  “A plan?” she asked with her mouth full of stir-fry.

  “A plan to get through this mourning and missing Jamie shit.” Patrick looked away and lowered his voice, “I mean… I understand this is hard for you and you loved him and all, but you have got to start getting back to life.”

  “My fiancé DIED LESS THAN A WEEK AGO, YOU ASSHOLE!” She got up and threw her plate at the sink, breaking it, food flying everywhere.

  Billy blew out the breath he’d been holding and Patrick pushed his chair out away from the table. “You’re acting like a child and you are not a child. Clean this shit up.”

  “No.” She said and walked back downstairs. She was almost back to her bed when Patrick grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her back upstairs. As he put her down, she attempted to shove him. He didn’t move.

  “Clean it up now. We’re not your fucking maids. We weren’t put here on Earth to clean up after you. I know you are sad, mad, whatever...” Billy walked over and started sweeping up the pieces of plate that had fallen to the floor.

  “I’ll get it,” she sneered as she ripped the broom out of his hand.

  Patrick sat on the counter while she cleaned. “You need a plan, El. A plan will help.”

  She looked at him. “How do you know what the fuck will help me? My name is Stella.”

  “Everyone I know has a nickname,” Patrick shrugged.

  “What’s Billy’s?”

  “Billy.” Patrick looked at Billy. “His real name is William.”