Taking Chances

May 2007

My hands rest flat against the wall of the shower as hot water cascades down my body. I sigh in contentment as the hot water washes away the dirt and muscle ache of another day, leaving only the painful and cruel memories that have haunted me for years.

Flashback

"God Kayla, I can't wait to make you my wife. I want to watch you succeed in your schoolwork, walk down the aisle on our wedding day and everything, but most importantly, I want to watch you grow round with my baby. Do you know how fucking happy that would make me baby?"

His strong hands idly caress the ring on my left hand as he leans in to kiss me under the mistletoe one last time before leaving for his business trip. The next three weeks of business meetings in and out of state were hard as hell on me. We had just gotten engaged three days before and then he left the state.

Flash forward four years

"Look Kayla, I can't do this anymore. I've found someone else and we're happy, actually we've been together for about six months now. I'm so sorry, really I am, but I just don't love you anymore. We've been engaged for more than four years, I just can't wait for you to finish school anymore.

I want a wife and family now. Look, you put your career before me for almost five years now; I'm fucking sick of it. The girl I'm with now puts me first and that's more than you ever did for me. You don't deserve my love Kayla. You don't deserve me anymore; Mandy treats me better than you ever dreamed of so I'm giving up on us Kayla. We're done. Keep the ring, I bought it for you and you should have it."

----

I remember standing alone in my driveway that day as he sped out and down the street. It was the last time I ever saw him before he got engaged again last year. A year ago today to be exact, and now, somewhere in the city, he was marrying his pregnant fiancée while I stand here in the shower moping over someone I don't even want anymore. How could he do this; marry someone else when I had been the one the wedding plans had included for more than five years? How could he be starting a family with someone other than me? I let the rhythmic sound of the water hitting the tile floor relax me and become the white noise I often long for during bad days like today. I grab my body wash and lather up slowly, enjoying the feel of my soft hands roaming over my sensitive nipples. The light vanilla smell envelopes me as I caress my toned body and the sensations pull me into a sexual haze, reminding me of how long it's been since I was touched by another. A quiet moan slips past my lips as I work the body wash over my nipples a little harder, my head falls back as I bite my lip to stifle my moans.

"Kayla, is that you in there?"

Fuck, I muttered under my breath. Meg, my roommate has the worst timing, I think she has a "Kayla's gonna play" alarm that goes off somewhere that only she knows about, honestly I do.

"Yeah, it's me. Need something Meg?"

A pause, Shit, she knows what today is doesn't she? Yeah, that's right my dumbass told her while drunk off tequila! Bravo Kayla, bra-fucking-vo. The one fucking day you want to be alone, you had to go and tell your roommate about. Could be worse I guess...

My forehead rests against the shower wall as my fingernails dig into my palms a bit. I took a few calming breaths, trying my damnedest not too sound rash.

"Just say whatever it is you're thinking so I can finish up with my shower alone please."

Silence assaulted me while I stood like a cowardly bitch under the spray of the shower. I'm being a total bitch to my best friend because I'm fucked emotionally. I don't deserve friends, he was right; I don't deserve any of the things I have in life. The lights flicked on in the bathroom, breaking the dark cloud I had put up around me as the door flew further open.

"Get out. Get the fuck out right now. You are not going to be this girl, I won't let you. You don't even love him anymore! So get the fuck out of the shower and get dressed, we're going out."

I stared blankly at Meg as my eyes adjusted to the light that was flooding the bathroom. I watched her form through the frosted glass of the shower door, catching the towel she tossed over the door.

"You have five minutes before I start flushing the toilets and doing the dishes. Get. The. Fuck. Out."

With that she walked out of the room, leaving me shaking my head at the firecracker known as Meg. I dressed and we spent the entire night drinking with our best friend Natalie serving as our designated driver. We spent the night dancing and flirting with the guys that would buy us drinks and try to score our numbers. We called it a night just before 3 AM, Natalie dragging our drunken asses to the car. That's where my memory goes blank and where my nightmare begins.

****

I don't remember much of that night besides the drinking and dancing. I don't remember how it happened or who was at fault, I just remember the empty feeling that hasn't left me since waking up in the hospital alone. An I.V. in one arm, the other wrapped in a cast immobilizing my entire left arm from the elbow to my fingers. The nurses refused to make eye contact when checking my vitals and the doctors kept saying we were lucky to be alive. We. That's the only reason I knew someone else had made it through whatever had happened. I wouldn't know the full details until two days later when they wheeled in my roommate Meg. Both legs were broken, one arm broken and several cuts and bruises covered her body, her face one solid color purple. God only knows what I looked like in comparison, no one ever told me and I didn't care to ask.

I sat in my bed bewildered by the story Meg was telling me. Turns out, Natalie's car was hit, ironically, by a drunk driver causing us to go off an embankment. Meg's shaky voice held strong until the end, when the world spun around and collapsed for us both.

"Natalie didn't make it. She died when the other driver hit us; they say we're lucky to be alive."

I barely caught her mutter the exact 'I don't feel so lucky' that I was thinking before we fell into an uncomfortable silence. Natalie, sweet innocent little Natalie. She'd never done a foul thing in her life, Meg and I have been best friends with her since our senior year of high school when we saved her from getting the crap beat out of her by some big mean lesbian. God, she didn't drink and never looked down on us for doing the things she'd never be caught doing. She was the quintessential good girl, but actually had a personality. Besides Meg, she's the only best friend I've ever had and now, God, now I can't even go to her funeral and give her a proper goodbye. I could tell Meg was thinking the same thing, how were we going to go on without the beautiful being known as Natalie? She'd been in this world for a mere twenty-four years and now we'll never hear her laugh at our silly jokes or never feel her hug us when we've had a bad day. I looked at Meg and our faces mirrored each others, tear streaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes as we both said, "He took the wrong one."

We were released a week later, both still bandaged up and heavily medicated. The ride back to our place was filled with silence as our good friend Grant drove us home. We didn't speak of the funeral we missed or the best friend that was suddenly gone from our lives, nor did we discuss how guilty the both of us felt. Grant moved in with the two of us while we were on the mend and took care of the small things we couldn't do without help.

Six weeks later, my arm was free from the cast but my memory of the night still hadn't fully returned. Meg's recovery was tougher than mine. She had to relearn how to walk, while I only had to do a little physical therapy for my arm. I awoke every night in a cold sweat, sitting straight up in bed, gasping for breath while crying my eyes out. I thought about talking to someone about it, but school was taking up all my time and I wasn't going to take away from it anymore than I had for the accident. I wound up graduating a semester late since I couldn't attend classes during my recovery time.

I finally received my degree and found a job working for the local police department on the mobile crime lab. I wasn't an officer, but I was doing the work I loved and that's all that mattered to me. My job consisted of a crew of us going to accidents or crime scenes and collecting data and clues. Car accidents were hard on me at first but I got used to that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and did my job, I was slowly becoming one of the best and it wasn't going unnoticed. I had a few admirers on the force and believe me I was flattered, but I wasn't interested in dating or hooking up. I was still hiding my emotions so well that even I didn't know exactly what I was feeling at times.

March 2009: Present Day

I've been working for the Knoxville Police Department for almost a year now, which earns me a few perks like sleeping. It's Friday the 13th and I am thankfully taking a personal day to catch up on sleep. Well, I was until I was ripped from my private cocoon of a bedroom to cover a crash site not too far from our place.

When I arrived on the scene something didn't seem right to me, I felt sick to my stomach as soon as my feet hit the pavement. I walked over to a group of officers and investigators that had gathered to discuss the main points of the accident. While awaiting my clearance to the scene, I felt someone looking at me and glanced around until I met two blue eyes looking directly into my brown ones. I watched as he sauntered over towards me and made small talk.

"How ya feeling, Everson? You look a little pale, are you alright?"

Officer Michael Easton. My heart pounded, threatening to break through my chest and abandon me to follow him around like a lost puppy. Jesus God almighty! Blue eyes that melt your insides to goo, brown hair that's cut short but threatening to curl at the ends and a shoulders that beg to be clung to while in compromising positions. Not only is this man gorgeous, but he is gorgeous and he is touching me. I nod in response to his question, unable to make coherent sentences and terrified of making a fool of myself. A strange warmth radiates from my shoulder and I feel his hand squeeze it in an assuring manner before I smile brightly in his direction. We separate to do our respective duties, but I still feel that tingly warmth radiating throughout my body as he walks away.

I set in to examine the scene and photograph every aspect and view possible for our records. I start out where the skid marks on the road start and make my way inwards towards the scene. That's when I notice a small wooden cross next to the guardrail that has flowers and what looks to be a picture in the center of the cross. I make my way closer to examine the cross out of sheer curiosity. My breathing stops, my shaking hands reach out to touch the picture that accompanies the bold script writing of a name too familiar to me for my liking. A broken sob escapes me and I feel my body falling until my head hits pavement and everything goes dark.

Later that night

My head feels fuzzy as I slowly come back around. Immediately, I begin to notice my surroundings as different than what they were before I blacked out. Instead of hard pavement beneath my head, I feel something soft and warm wrapped around me, cradling me like a fragile piece of cargo or something. I can faintly make out the sound of voices, but they are still too fuzzy to make out what they are talking about or who they are. I try to open my eyes but I'm just too tired, I can't even get them half way open before my head is throbbing in reaction.

Whispers are heard from somewhere in the room.

"Look I don't know what's going on, but I can't let anything bad happen to her. Ever. I feel so connected to her and we've only talked a few times about nothing!"

There's a short pause.

"Yeah, no man I understand how fucked up it sounds trust me, I know. But I swear to all that is holy that my heart stopped beating when I saw her sprawled out on the fucking pavement. Now I don't know what the hell that means, but I sure as shit don't want a repeat any damn time soon."

Another pause.

"Fuck me, I don't know. Yeah, I'll call you later and fill you in on what's going on but until then, don't call me unless it's damn important. Yeah, we're still on for the game tomorrow. I'll talk to you tomorrow sometime. Bye man."

I'm not sure where the hell I am or who the hell that voice belongs to, but I'm getting out of here right now. I don't like being dependent on someone else, especially someone that I can't even figure out who they are! God, my head is killing me... I must have smacked it pretty hard on the pavement.

My body feels heavy and I try to sit up to no prevail. I let out a frustrated groan then immediately regret it once I hear the footfalls coming closer. I struggled to sit up frantically fearing that possibly some stranger had me in his bed.

"Hey, calm down it's alright, no one's going to hurt you. I'd never hurt you Kayla, please calm down."

A deep voice made calming shushing noises as he gently stroked the hair out of my face. My panic attack slowly eased itself away and my heart stopped threatening to burst through my ribcage as his hands combed through my long dark curls. I couldn't suppress the soft contented sigh that past my lips as he soothed me. My mind eased slightly and I fought to open my eyes to see who my calming stranger really was.

I peeked out from beneath my long lashes to find two pale blue eyes looking down at me full of concern. A soft smile graced his lips and I gasped at the sight of Officer Easton looking down upon me in such an intimate way.

"You okay brown eyes? You gave us all a scare at the site, does anything hurt?"

Speaking was not an option. It simply wasn't. I mean, I didn't know what words were at this exact moment. No, currently I've recessed back to my infantile years of incomprehensible English and thought better to just nod to answer his question. My heart chose this moment to stop, and then accelerate to high ribcage bursting speeds yet again.

----

My rendezvous with the pavement and Officer Michael Easton's bed was just over two months ago and since then; we've gone out for coffee a few times. We joke and cut up as if we've known each other for years and I feel myself growing extremely attached to him. He makes my heart race when he stands a little closer than usual, or when he brushes the hair behind my ear sweetly and my god, when he leans into me and I catch a whiff of his cologne I almost wet myself with eagerness to jump his bones. But that's where it stops. We haven't held hands; we haven't kissed or gone on a date that doesn't end with us throwing away paper cups. Beyond this though, I feel as if I'm getting comfortable with him. I haven't dated since the incident known as my ex Rob, nor have I really felt the pull of lust towards any man until recently.

Up until recently I wasn't turned on by guys anymore. No, the only males that turned me on were the dreamy actors that graced my screen during primetime television and that's the way I liked it. Those guys couldn't hurt me and break my heart like Rob had, so I was completely ok with having a relationship with McSteamy on Thursday nights or Seely Booth on Tuesday nights. My shower time fantasies have been taken care of by the television hotties for long enough, now my shower time jollies were taken care of by none other than Officer Michael "Fuck Hot" Easton.

I've recently decided that him controlling my fantasies is no longer enough. No, its time to move on and get Officer Easton to actually take control of my body in anyway he desires. Its time to get what I deserve, a man who will love and pleasure me; and hopefully that man is Michael.