All of Me Page 7
“And I ended it with Christy,” Nathan said.
“Who? Oh, yeah. How’d she take it?”
“Fine. She seemed fine with it. I told her she was a nice person, but I didn’t think it was right for us to see each other anymore.” Not that he thought there was a chance in hell anything would happen with Stella, but it had felt wrong to continue with Christy when he was so twisted up over another woman.
And he was twisted up. Twisted up, fucked up, jacked up…he was every kind of “up” there was. He’d mentally clawed and scraped and shoved, but she’d still been there. Lurking. Haunting. He’d wondered where she was, who she was with, and how she was doing. He hadn’t wanted to think about her…in fact, he’d done everything possible not to think about her including watching a bunch of inane TV shows, cleaning his already spotless house, and mowing his just mowed lawn.
But she’d never been far from his thoughts. Even while he’d been breaking up domestic disputes, checking on tripped alarms, and busting up bar fights. It was one of the few times in his life he hadn’t been able to forcibly shove stuff into the Things That Made No Sense box and it was really starting to piss him off.
“She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“The big dude?” Danny asked.
“Her gay friend.”
“Yes! Gay! I knew there was something going on there. He was way too into talking to Mr. Tight Tee.”
“Not that –“
“A-12, A-12…we’ve got a 138 at 112 Essex. Skip’s Tavern.”
Nathan unclipped his radio and hit the call button. “10-4 dispatch. We’re en route.”
Thank God.
Nothing like a drunk and disorderly to help take your mind off things.
Especially fearless little Italian things with gypsy eyes and sweet smiles.
***
Stella laced up her Nikes and grabbed her iPod. She’d put this off long enough. Time to get her butt moving. There was a 3 day Walk for the Cure in six weeks and Stella wanted to be somewhat prepared. This was the first time since her diagnosis she was well enough to participate and she wasn’t going to miss it – new lump, be damned.
Her sisters would kill her if they knew she’d put off calling her oncologist, Dr. Winston, but she wasn’t ready yet. And she’d already prepared herself that she’d be losing the other breast anyway…might as well enjoy it for a few more weeks. Pretty soon, uni-boob would be nada-boob. There would be more chemo, more radiation, less hair, and a lot of barfing. She’d be weak, fragile, and totally dependent on her family. She’d face more decisions about possible reconstructions and have to deal with more complications. It was a soul-zapping, body-ravaging cycle of destruction that Stella wasn’t looking forward to repeating.
But she wasn’t going to dwell on it today. It was a beautiful, clear 82 degree June afternoon and Stella’s mood improved as soon as her feet hit the sidewalk. She wasn’t much of an exerciser, but a good, long walk always did her a world of good. Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” blared out her earbuds as she hit a comfortable stride.
Stella turned the corner onto Vinsetta and almost ran smack dab into none other than Mr. Match.com himself.
Stella pulled her earbuds out and took a step back. “What are you doing here?”
Nathan Drazek looked delicious: Indians hat on backwards, dark Ray-bans hiding his eyes, and his muscular arms glistening with sweat. Stella resisted checking out his legs, but she lost that fight. Big time.
Yep, they were as delectable as she’d imagined: long, muscular, and dusted with light brown hair.
Nathan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I live over on Deacon St. Just moved in a few months ago.”
“Oh. Well, welcome to Old Brooklyn.” Stella was very rarely at a loss for words, but she had no idea what to say to this man next.
“Going for a run too?” he asked, hands on hips. Trim hips that Stella could only imagine were attached to a chiseled chest and six pack of abs.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…
Stella shielded her eyes from the sun. “More like a stroll. Not much of a runner.”
He cleared his throat and looked around at nothing in particular. “Nice day.”
“Yeah. Beautiful.” Stella dropped her arm and crossed her arms over her midsection.
They entered into some sort of weird, supercharged stare down. But it wasn’t antagonistic or confrontational. It was way more thoughtful than that. And, for reasons Stella didn’t dare examine too closely, all of a sudden she like crying again.
What is it about this guy that makes me want to bawl my eyes out?
Stella forced a half-smile. “So did you deliver the bad news to your buddy?”
“My buddy?”
“Yeah. Did you tell him I wasn’t interested?”
“Oh, yeah. Danny. My partner.” Nathan cleared his throat again. “Yeah, no big deal. No problem.”
“Wow, he gives up easy, huh?”
Nathan’s brows dropped. “But you said –“
“Just a bad joke.” Stella exhaled a breathy laugh. “Sorry.”
“Oh. Right.” He looked around again. “Well, I, uh, better get going.”
Before her brain caught up with her mouth, Stella asked, “Do you want to walk with me? I’ve got less than 6 weeks to get myself ready for a charity run. Maybe you could push me a little today. Otherwise I’m liable to wind up on a patch of grass somewhere staring up at the clouds.”
Stella laughed breathlessly, but not to be coy. It was because she was actually a little breathless. With stupidity.
What are you doing?
His horrified expression had Stella praying for Armageddon, Christ’s second coming, or at least a bolt of lightening to strike her down.
She forced another laugh and waved it all off. Her invitation. His reaction. The ache in her chest. “No worries. Just a thought.”
Nathan eyed her. “Which charity run?”
“Uh, the 3 Day Walk for the Cure.”
“I’ve got a run coming up too. The Beacon of Hope run. It’s in about a month.”
“Oh, for the women and children’s shelter? That’s great. Is it a police thing or…” Stella asked.
“A lot of the officers run in it, yeah.”
He scratched at his left bicep and Stella’s eye was drawn toward the ink she’d seen the other day. The tattoo was bigger than she’d imagined. She wished she could get a better look at it. And touch it.
“That’s really nice. Maybe I’ll try to do that one too next year.” If she wasn’t as sick as a dog. “Like I said, I’m more of a walker than a runner, but it’s the thought, right?”
He nodded.
“Well, it was nice seeing you again. Take care.” Stella walked around him.
He uttered a weird sound: half grunt, half mutter. She turned back and watched his Adam’s Apple bob up and down a couple of times.
He wanted to say something, that much was obvious. But he didn’t. Maybe couldn’t.
Hoping her instincts weren’t off, she gestured to the spot next to her on the sidewalk. “Come on. Let’s tear up some pavement, huh?”
But Nathan didn’t move. Instead he continued eyeing her before saying, “I thought you were angry with me.”
“Angry with you? Oh, what you mean about the other night?”
Truth was, she had been. Stupidly angry, baselessly disappointed, and ridiculously hurt. But something about this guy was tugging at her heartstrings.
He nodded and Stella waved it off. “No harm done. I get mad quick, but I can’t stay mad long. Too short of an attention span. Unless, of course, you do something really bad. Then I’m liable to tear you apart limb by limb and never forgive or forget. It’s an Italian thing.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
“Another…joke.” Sort of. Stella gestured again. “Wanna go?”
He nodded and fell into step beside her.
They walked in amiable silence for a few seconds before Stella’s nervous chatter began.
“Ten years.”
“You like it?”
“For the most part. Probably like most jobs – good days and bad days.” He hiked up his mesh shorts and rested his hands on his hips. “You like being a nurse?”
“I love it. Most of the time. Like you said, some good days and some bad days,” Stella replied.
His legs were a lot longer and he was obviously in prime physical condition, but still paced himself to match her shorter strides.
“What’s the worst thing you’ve been through as a police officer?” Stella asked.
Nathan didn’t answer.
“Sorry,” she said, laughing. “I’m a little intrusive. Or so I’ve been told.”
When he still didn’t say anything, Stella babbled on. “I used to work Peds, before I went down to the ER. The kid stuff was always the worst for me. It’s hard enough watching adults go through stuff, but to watch a little kid suffer…yeah, I couldn’t stay there. Not after my sisters started having kids. It was too hard.” Stella gave him a sideways glance. “Probably sounds wimpy, huh?”
“Not at all. The worst thing I have ever seen as a police officer was a 4 month old baby beaten to death by her mother’s boyfriend. Nothing wimpy about never wanting to see that again.”
“God…makes you wonder why we didn’t both become engineers instead, huh? Gluttons for punishment, I guess.”
Stella suddenly realized she didn’t have her fake boob on. She never exercised with it on because of its propensity to shift or pop out. She wondered if Nathan had noticed how lopsided her chest was.
She automatically pulled at the front of her teeshirt, hoping to billow it out a bit. As if that helped. And as if it mattered at all if this guy noticed her uni-boob. It wasn’t like he cared.
“Did you grow up here? In Cleveland?” She thought it was an innocuous enough question, but his sideways glance suggested otherwise.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
He blew out a breath. “East Cleveland.”
“Oh, me too. Whereabouts?”
Nathan didn’t answer, so she changed the subject.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
He stopped short and faced her. “You know I do. Stop with the mind games.”
Stella reared back. “I beg your pardon?”
“I know you remember me from the old neighborhood. You don’t have to pretend like you don’t. It’s not a big deal. Just drop it.”
“Wow…okay…” The reality that Stella was walking alone with a man she didn’t really know sank in. A man that obviously had some sort of chemical imbalance. “I actually don’t remember you. From anywhere. If I did, I would have said, ‘Hey, I remember you from the old neighborhood.’ I know you don’t know me very well, but let me assure you that I don’t get off on pretending not to know people when I secretly do.”
“Then why do you keep staring at me like that? Like you’re fucking pitying me or something?” Nathan turned his head to side and ran a hand over his shortly cropped hair. When he turned back to face her, his game face was back in place.
Stella met his eyes head-on. “Nathan, if we’ve met before, I honestly don’t remember. I despise lying and I’m no good at mind games. And I wouldn’t do that to you, okay? I think you have me confused with someone else.”
“Your last name is Ciaramitaro. Your dad owns – or did own – the little grocery store at the corner of Groveland and Hennings. You have four sisters and your mom used to run the cash register, right?”
Stella nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s right. Did you live in that neighborhood? Did you shop at C’s?”
He scoffed. “Something like that.”
“I don’t understand…” Stella studied his hard face and stiff posture. She had no idea what was going on here, but this poor guy was really upset. “Did you work there?”
“Forget it. Sorry. I…I must have you mixed up with someone else.”
“Someone else with four sisters and a dad who owned a grocery store called ‘C’s?’”
Nathan stared at a phone he’d pulled out of the waistband of his shorts. “It’s getting late. I’ve gotta work tonight. I better get going.”
“I want to get to the bottom of this,” Stella said. “I’m not a big fan of leaving weird stuff like this hanging out there.”
“No need. I was confused.” Nathan backed up several steps. “Forget it. But I have to go.”
Stella really wanted to chase him down and force him to talk to her, but managed to restrain herself. “Okay. Well, thanks for the company. Have a safe night tonight.”
He stared at her for a few seconds before jogging off. Stella watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Chapter Nine
Boot camp is not a place for people with thin skin. Nathan remembered many of his fellow Army recruits breaking down night after night; crying themselves to sleep in their bunks while Nathan lied awake wondering why. It had never occurred to him that other people hadn’t spent their entire lives being screamed at, called names, and deprived of even the most basic human needs.
For him, boot camp had been something of a vacation. At least no one could hit you and you got fed three squares a day. Plus, you had your very own bed in a heated barrack. And most of all, there was structure – something Nathan never had and always craved.
His little trip down memory lane had been prompted by the arrest of three young dummies: freshly minted airmen from Wright Patterson Air Force Base. They’d gotten drunk and started brawling (with each other and anyone else in the general vicinity). After getting the call, Danny and Nathan had found all three of them – bleeding and half-dressed – stumbling down Aurora Ave. They’d all passed out in the back of the cruiser on the way to the drunk tank with stupid smiles on their faces.
Nathan could hardly remember being that young. Or dumb. But he’d definitely been both.
After getting off at 5:30 a.m., Nathan headed home, pulled on his running stuff and grabbed his phone a bottle of water. He opened his front door and stopped cold.
Stella Ciaramitaro was sitting on his front steps – smooth, olive-skinned bare legs crossed and her chin in her hands. After getting a really nice eyeful of her amazing ass, a sweat broke out on his upper lip.
She turned with a sheepish smile. “You’re a cop. Tell me, is it possible for two people to stalk each other?”
“What are you doing here?” Nathan felt like shit when her smile faded.
“Uh, I worked midnights and, uh, I thought maybe I’d catch you going for one of your morning runs. Thought maybe you’d wanna go again. Maybe do a little less fighting and a little more running this time,” she replied, smiling.
Nathan slammed the door behind him. “How did you find out where I live?”
“White Pages. Sorry.” She laughed breathlessly.
“I like to run alone.” He brushed past her. Nathan was very pissed off to see her. And very, very happy.
“Oh…okay…” she said softly.
He made the mistake of looking at her.
Shit, she was beautiful. And she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. She was so fucking open. And kind. And he saw something in her eyes he couldn’t describe, but it was something he had inside of him too.
Nathan wanted to run away from her as quickly as he possibly could.
And how convenient that he already had his running shoes on.
All he had to do was hurt her feelings really badly once and he instinctively knew she wouldn’t be back. She was kind, but she wasn’t stupid and she was no doormat. He doubted she ever gave someone a chance to hurt her twice.
He opened his mouth to slay her. Unfortunately, what came out was, “Come on. Let’s go already.”
When she half-skipped over, he almost leaned closer to smell her better. When she smiled up at him, he almost smiled back. As they started walking, Stella started talking on and on about so
mething Nathan couldn’t concentrate on. And when she laughed and her hand grazed his forearm in a casual, non-premeditated way, he almost wept.
Thank God the woman was a talker and didn’t seem to mind his nonparticipation. She talked about her night, about something funny one of her nephews had done, and how she’d been craving Mexican food lately. It was an odd stream-of-consciousness, one-sided conversation he reveled in. Stella was animated, loud, and laughed breathlessly – nervously – at her own little quips and comments. Occasionally, she looked up at Nathan and his breath would catch. Her cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes sparkled and he was dying to kiss those freckles on the bridge of her nose.
He cleared his throat in a vain attempt to loosen it up a little.
“Is your head spinning yet?” Stella wiped at her forehead. “I’m a bit of a motor mouth. Especially after a long night at work and loads of coffee.”
“It’s fine.”
“Oh! Ow!” She yanked at his shirt sleeve, pulling him to a stop. Nathan fought the urge to yank back. Her touch was incredible. And difficult to endure. “My ankle.” She winced when she moved it. “Yikes.”
Stella gestured to a neighborhood park they’d been passing. “Do you mind if we sit for a minute? I turned my ankle.”
He let her hold on to his arm while she limped over to a bench.
Stella dropped onto the bench and pulled her right ankle up over her left knee. She pulled the sock down and winced. “A few years ago, I was wrestling this maniac in the ER and my ankle got sprained. Every now and again, it’ll hurt.” Stella rotated it a few times set her foot back on the ground gingerly. It’ll be fine in a minute.” She looked up at him and grinned. “Not much of a running partner, huh?”
“Why did you come to my house?”
If she was surprised by his abrupt question, she didn’t show it. She just lifted a shoulder and replied, “I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. I guess I thought we could be friends.”
“I don’t want to be friends. I have enough friends.”