Fandom: One Chicago
Title: Fight For Me:
Chapter 1 Red-Hot
P O V: Sylvie Brett
A/N: I don't own the legal rights to One Chicago or SVU despite my many attempts to beg for a partnership with Wolf Entertainment.
Wrightwood Park
2534 N Greenview Ave, Chicago, IL 60614
May 2021
"What you're not getting, Matt, is this has nothing to do with Greg Granger. It doesn't even have to do with me. It has to do with the fact that you're still in love with Dawson."
Matt Casey looked back at me wide-eyed; his expression held a storminess to it, the look of a deer caught in headlights. It's not cute or funny; the brutal truth never is when you break it down to its rawness. Deer are skittish, withdrawn animals, antisocial for fear of getting hurt; deer struggle to settle into one place for too long.
Deeply insecure but in a sweet coquettish nature, a deer's life is spent searching for venture traveling most of their lives in the pursuit of a balanced life, one that includes stability and prey and emotional fulfillment. They love to watch and are pros at the art of observance. They know their land every nook and cranny shy creatures as they hide in the elements of nature in the day and come out to explore and play at night.
Nimble yet beautiful creatures they are harmless to people, never confident enough for fear of rejection or being hurt. Being so cautious and skittish, however, can be dangerous, especially in the middle of the night when they are simply playing or following their families across the land; they are often caught off guard when a car comes speeding towards them suddenly they are caught in a situation beyond control they freeze hence the saying caught in headlights.
In those moments, the truth races through their minds they are going to die unless they act fast, most can not; it's simply not in their nature to fight, so used to being the prey they accept it's their fate to die; some have a rare ability to think fast and fight for their lives.
Most freeze.
"I called you out, and you haven't done anything about it. Maybe you should reach out and resolve that so you can go back to being the Matt Casey everyone around here looks up to, not this version."
It's been two weeks since I called Matt out on his refusal to acknowledge his feelings for his ex-wife and his slothful enervate undertaking of his feelings towards his so-called feelings to me.
"My feelings for you are real, Sylvie."
"I want you to know; I really appreciated you saying what you did last shift. You were right; thank you for helping me get my head straight."
Past conversations with Matt burn inside my head as I try to focus on the game I am in; I'm bent down into an athletic position with hands on my knees, ready for play to begin again. I can see Kelly Severide bouncing the basketball down the court. I know I need to focus; Kelly choose Leslie Shay and me to be on his team, and he's a beast on the court; he takes his game seriously. I don't want to look stupid or inexperienced; but I can't seem to get Matt and his words out of my head or my conversation with Stella Kidd.
"I basically just told Casey I'm in love with him."
"You know what? There's no need to panic here, okay. What is so wrong with him knowing how you feel? That is how you feel, right?
"I… I can't feel that way.
"Why not?"
"I just… I just can't. Trust me. I'm just going to pretend I didn't say what I said, and then everything can go back to normal."
"Is that really the healthiest?"
Shake your damn head out, Brett, focus. You need to be focused; you should be up there helping Kelly. Run Brett race towards Kelly, get Matt out of your damn head. My feet listen, forcing me to sprint towards where Kelly and Matt are fighting for dominance over the basketball, which is nothing more than an orange and black blur to my vision. No matter how fast I run, though, I can't escape the voices of my past.
"Hey, I just wanted to tell you, Brett. I'm delighted you're okay."
"It's just the craziest thing climbing out of there and seeing you. How'd you get there so fast?"
"Well, it wasn't just me. We all responded quick, rushed down there together."
"Hmm, funny, I didn't see anyone else at first."
"Yeah, they were there."
"It's always been you. Uh, I just mean, you're always the one who's there for me in a crisis. That's all I mean. I guess I'm just trying to thank you for being such a good friend."
"I don't regret kissing you, Brett."
If those words are all true, why is it taking Matt so damn long to fight for me? All I want is for a guy to love me enough to fight for me to make me his entire world. I'm not clingy or possessive; I don't need him stapled to my hip twenty-four-seven. I want to know that I am the only one whose scent is filling his nostrils. I want my delicate skin to linger on his fingertips the way a slow song is forever dancing on the tips of our memories.
Is it too much to ask? Am I not worthy of a guy to waste his time on? I feel as if I am drowning in an ocean of emotions. I spend so much time on my knees praying for the wisdom to see through this storm some days.
I lose my breath.
I sink to the bottom of the ocean; the waves overpower me. "don't let me down, Jesus." I mutter to myself as I stand half-court now, trying to figure out where I should go to; the action is so fast it's hard to make a judgment call. My body is drenched in sweat, my face flushed, my chest heaving and panting. The guys never take it easy simply because we ladies are playing; the games are hands-on, fast, and brutally rowdy.
"You're too slow, brother! Ha-ha, I got an inch over you shorty." Kelly's hand reaches out and smacks the ball straight out of Matt's hands as he raises his arms to shoot. I race towards them and jump, snatching the ball before it can bounce to the ground, shocking Matt as my body breezes past him. I hope he can smell my scent; I hope it lingers in his memory. The smell of sweat and yesterday's summer rain shower is what fills my senses; the ground is still damp even with the sun shining so beautifully now. My feet crackle as the stones smash under my feet when I run; my legs strain, not use to being exercised with the last few months having been so brutally cold and snow-covered. The loud country station we have playing helps me to focus my energy and race towards the basket dribbling.
Every spring, summer, and fall, we try to come out here to practice and keep ourselves in shape. It's a great way to bond, too, outside of the firehouse. The paint on the poles and hoops has been fading steadily for years, and its shiny luster is long gone. Details like these are not noticeable during a single game. These minor details have slowly emerged after many summer/ spring mornings and Sunday afternoons of dedicated practice.
The air does not feel, taste, or smell clean and fresh. It is warm and damp as if it were someone's breath. The signature smell of sweat, sneakers, and hard work combined to make the scent memorable specifically for a woman.
Ever since I was eight, I have loved basketball, and baseball; I love how the ball bounces in my hands, or the sound of the bat when it cracks against the ball, and I know I slammed it out of the park. I love the sound of quick dribbling; the slight screech basketball shoes make; I love the adrenaline rush from stealing a ball or base and the victory of making the slide into the home base or, conquering the eternally practiced, left-handed lay-up. I love the dedication of my coaches, yelling because they cared. I didn't like the look of anger when we botched plays up or the yelling that came after repetitive amounts of turnovers.
I thrived under the pressure of being a leader to all these girls who looked up to me, helping to shape these girls into athletes and helping to lead them to national and state titles that our hometown could be proud of, they still talk about how the girl's softball team won Nationals all four years I was a student at Madison-Grant high School. Every suicide run, sprints, and wall sits we had to do were worth the joy of playing ball. As a grownup, it's been hard to find time to crave out to play either sport, so days like these are heaven to me.
The feel of the sweat-covered ball is slick and hot. I force my fingers to grip it tightly; the rubber burns my fingers a little. If only this were a different rubber, and if only it were on a certain Captain who was on top of me. Focus, Brett, stop your sick thoughts. People talk about how condoms minimize the sensation for dudes, but I have never heard anyone talk about how the male condom affects a women's experience of sex. Trust me, it does! The difference is like night and day. I can't believe how much better sex feels without a condom; how much easier it is for me to come; how much more fun it is to switch positions and play around without worrying that the condom might come off or break. Of course, I can't take the chance of getting pregnant again, and I learned the hard way as a teen the consequences of unprotected sex. I can't afford another baby, I'm not married or even seeing anyone seriously, so sex with a condom is how it has to be. I've learned to enjoy it, accept it.
Right now, holding this ball as I dribble down the court, avoiding Stella's hands and Randy "Mouch" McHolland's attempt to grab my waist, I long for the feel of Matt on top of me, forcing my legs apart, making love to me, the feeling of that rubber would be welcomed.
This rubber feels nasty, and I am glad when I am close enough to the basket to jump and shoot. The ball sails through the air easily so I guess; all my years as Captain of the girl's basketball team came in handy. The ball swooshes through the net as I feel Kelly's hands grip my waist, pick me up, spin me around, cheering, lifting me to his shoulders as if I am feather-light. The wind rips through my hair and across the slickness of my bare legs.
"Damn." Matt mutters, "Don't do your sexyride dance just yet; it ain't over. We're only in halftime, and you're only up 19 to 14."
"Keep denying it, brother, but I'm going to win this. You're going to lose, face it loser squad beats truck any day." All the squad guys yell and hoot as they high-five Kelly and me. Joe Cruz, Tony Ferraris, and Harold Capp, my partner in Ambo, Shay, and our sons, plus our two out-of-town friends Olivia Benson and Amanda Rollins.
"We have more skill, more natural physical abilities, and well, the truth is we are fucking kings! You Truck boys are the lonely forgotten freshmen drooling after us in jealously hell; I even got the girl you ain't man enough to fight for."
"Brett knows a real man when she sees one. It's why she choose my team, not yours. Right, Sylvie?" Stunned, I can barely swallow. Kelly knows damn well he chose me, what is he trying to do?, My chest is burning and tight, heaving from the sprint-down court. I'm feeling flushed, slightly dizzy. There is no breeze now in the Wrightwood basketball open court; the sun is shining down in all its 98 degrees glory. We've been playing for nearly two hours. This is our second game.
Fight For Me
The words ring inside my head as I look down from my perch on top of Kelly's shoulders; my skin burns in embarrassment; did he just put me on the spot like this? Seriously in front of all these guys? The sunlight dizzily blinds me, but I feel safe on Kelly's arms, his broad shoulders as sweaty as they are wrapped around my tiny legs, acting as two anchors. His hands planted firmly on my knees make me feel like I am precious cargo he won't let go off, the way a king holds his queen.
Why can't Matt ever do that to me?
I blink for only a second when I see Stella toss me a water bottle which my shaking hands somehow catch the cool liquid feels fantastic as I drink, giving me the courage to say what I feel towards Matt.
"I wish you would fight for me as hard as you fought for this damn ball today."
I glance into Matt's forest-green eyes; a stormy sea of emotions welling up inside of them makes me swallow my throat tightens. His eyes make me weak, so I am glad I am sitting on Kelly's shoulders because I am instantly lost inside of Matt's eyes, wondering what Matt is thinking or feeling will he defend himself or shy away?
I know what I want him to say. "It's you, Sylvie, only you who has been on my mind day and night. You are the one I fall asleep and dream of every night. You make me feel as if I am Moses and can walk on water or Jesus dancing in the clouds of heaven."
For a minute, I feel my spirits rise; Matt shifts from foot to foot, nervously twitching, unclenching, and clenching his fists until tiny angry breaths escape those glisten, beautiful lips which I long to kiss. His face flames in anger and embarrassment with shades of anger and jealously, but no shame.
Why isn't he ashamed of himself? He should be what kind of man doesn't fight for the woman he claims to love? I've seen him fight for Gabby. I saw the anger that burned in his eyes when Tommy Welch made comments. Matt would have spit fire and burned himself to death to protect Gabby, but he won't even fight his emotions to face the truth he loves Gabby and me, and it can't work that way.
That's not romance; that's sex. I want more than sex. Most men would punch Kelly square in the face for calling them out, making them seem tiny and insignificant in front of other guys, specifically those he is in command over. Stella, Randy, Blake Gallo all eye each other, and Kelly, who I can tell, is grinning. I don't need to see his face to feel the cocky I fucked you smile. I see it in the arch of Stella's eyebrow as she smirks and looks at me. As Kelly's girlfriend, she knows all his tricks, and she knows even though he's kidding with Matt, there's a hidden truth to his red hot words he wants to wake Matt the hell up. He wants Matt's blood to burn, so he fights for me, mainly because he's probably sick of hearing Stella talking about my broken heart and how to fix it.
It's not only the truck boys on Matt's team; the entire engine 51 crew is playing on Matt's side today. Christopher Herrman, his daughter Annabelle, and teenage sons Luke and Max. Mike Doherty, Darren Ritter, Clarence Norwood. "Ouch, I felt that burn, Matt." Shay laughs, high-fiving Kelly, who shakes his head, panting from the struggle for the ball. All the crew makes some grunt of despair over Kelly's burn except Matt. He reacts like a scolded little boy. Shuffling his feet, looking away from my eyes; my anger burns soaring as the wind; tears prickle behind my eyes painfully hot.
Red Hot, all I I feel is anger, and all I see is bright red flames. The last thing this fire pit of anger needs is more flames.
I can't deny his refusal to act hurts like hell because it does hurt so badly I can barely choke back the sobs. I knew from the moment I allowed myself to admit those words to myself; I'm in love with Matt Casey. I was opening my heart up to be shredded. I have given them a voice, and once they are given a voice, words have a power over you; they can make you fly or crush you in one foolish beat of your heart.
Broken hearts, broken dreams. Shattered illusions.
I will never be that girl a guy fights for. I'm always the understudy in the play, never the star that everyone stares at, only the girl they give a passing glance to before returning to the star. The anger is blinding; I feel like I am falling and no salvation is coming to help. All Matt needs to tell me is I am wrong, I am worth the fight; he loves me and only me.
I feel only fear as I look at him; I know I'm not wrong. I'm not the woman a man will ever spend a dime on for a romantic dinner. I'm the rebound girl, the one a guy runs to with his tail between his legs when he's been beaten down. I'm the quick hard fuck, I'm not the woman a man cries over because leaving me breaks his heart.
I'm not the flowers and chocolate girl. Only In My Dreams.
I'm the wham; bam, thank you till next time, ma'am. Guess romance is dead in Matt Casey's heart unless the woman's name is Gabby Dawson. I feel sick to my stomach the base of my skull is tightening and hammering. How did I end up as that type of woman? I grew up in a small God-fearing town with southern traditions and values. I never kissed a guy until I was seventeen. I view sex as intimate, not something to pass around like candy. I don't give myself away freely unless I have genuine feelings.
I learned the hard way that sex has consequences. I've slept with five guys in my lifetime; I'm thirty-two now; that's fewer people in my life than Shay's slept with this week alone. So how did I end up being the firehouse slut? "Let me down, Kelly. I'm going to be sick."
"See, Matt, you're so pitiful even the paramedics are sick over how pathetic your game is boy you better shape up if you want to be in the same league as the squad gods.' Kelly bends down to his knees so I can get off, Stella and Shay's hands help guide me steadying me which I need since this anger is pounding away at every nerve, and muscle in my body.
"Let's cool down guys before us old folks end up as slabs on the pavement."
"Aw, don't be a chicken butt, Cruz; how about a game of shot-by-shot? It's calmer and still exciting." Herrman yells after him as I swallow a gulp of water from my bottle, nearly vomiting it back up. "I'm out, Herrman. My entire body feels like someone lit a damn blow torch to every muscle and tendon which is now burning." Cruz waves his hands in defeat as he jogs over to the bench. "I have a baby on the way; Chloe will kill me if I get hurt; it's bad enough she has to worry while I am on the job." Cruz jogs towards the bench where Blake, Ritter, Capp, and Tony are re-hydrating.
"Chicken butt!" Herrman yells out, bouncing the ball to his fourteen-year-old daughter Annabelle. "Who's in for a little game? It'll relieve the stress of these last few days." Kelly fires the question as Herrman waves his hands dismissively towards Cruz.
"I'm in Kelly; you know I love competition always."
Shay holds her right closed fist up to pump fists with Kelly, who grins. "That's my girl." "What about you, son?" Kelly bounces the ball to their son, fifteen-year-old Shea Gabriel Severide, who flips his long blond hair over his left side; Shea grins. "Sure, I am always up for a chance to cream my old man." Kelly grins, wrapping his hands around Stella's shoulders pulling her back to his chest, so his hands rest over her breasts. "Oh, it's so on Severide, we are going to kick your ass, yeah boy." Laughing, Kelly plants a row of kisses down Stella's cheeks across her jawline. "In your dreams, girlfriend."
"Sylvie, Matt, you guys in? Remington?"
"I think my mom's too chicken, Uncle Kelly." I gasp at my fifteen-year-old son Remington Knox Brett bouncing the ball to him; he ducks it quickly, spins on he heals, and catches the ball under his palm, shaking it with a big grin on his face. "I taught you manners, Remington, and that ain't very gentleman like calling the woman whose raised you a chicken." "You also taught me to tell the truth, Mama, and the truth is you are too big of an old chicken to play too close to Uncle Matt. You're afraid of getting hurt again because you opened your heart to him, and the dummy rejected you, so now you're so raw that even a game of B-ball makes you afraid because of being in the proximity of the man who broke your heart."
"I think you need to spend more time hitting the books, young man, and less time focused on my love life."
"What love life Mama, I have more action than you do, and I'm a virgin, and why hit the books? I'm already on the honor roll, finished my homework for the week, and did the extra credit; I'm rehearsed to the core for tomorrow's audition, I'm on track to be the valedictorian for the class of 2025."
My cheeks flame as I look towards my handsome son, who has grown up so much; when did he become so tall and turn into such an amazing young man? Did I blink and miss his entire preteen to teen-years? How is he standing here in this tall, lanky 5'8 stature, weighing a hundred-and twenty-pounds with biceps close to seven inches?
"Don't get cocky, Remington, you ain't too old to be put over that knee of mine. I'm sure your girlfriend would love to see your bare ass being smacked; that's a real turn-on for any girl. What do you say, Savannah?" Seventeen-year-old Savannah-Leigh-Knox Rollins laughs, arching an eyebrow. "Oh, yes, Ma'am, I would surely love to see that; I know I will get some great pictures out of that for blackmail."
"Were you raised in a barn, Savannah? Gross!" Remington gags his face, beat red eyes avoiding me but glaring at his girlfriend. "Well, we are country sometimes the backwoods is just plain backwards we have some sick and twisted ideas of discipline right, Mama?"
Savannah's Mama Amanda Leigh Rollins laughs, rolling her eyes as she takes a long sip of the water bottle her girlfriend Olivia has handed to her. Smiling a flashy and sexy thank-you smile towards her, Amanda slaps Savannah's head lightly. "Hush your mouth, girl, who are you tryin' to be? You're about as country as a Hill of Beans is useful."
Savannah's mouth drops open in shock as her younger sister Canton Macon Rollins howls in laughter, falling against her best friend, Noah Porter Benson. They're both nine-years-old. "Mama, I was born in Atlanta, unlike little miss New York City over-here." "She thinks she's so highfalutin!"
Savannah sticks her tongue out at Canton, who sass's her hips slapping her butt towards her sister, making kissing sounds. "Girl, you're about to be fixing to be barking up the wrong tree, shut-your Frunchard with all this I'm from the south bullshit, you ain't from the heart of the damn south, I was born, I was bred in the deep south, you were born in Atlanta, Georgia and raised in New York City. Everything you learned about the south, you learned from me, and hearing my stories."
"You want to embarrass that sweet boy, girl. You better be prepared cause I Surr Nuff can find an equal amount of embarrassing ways to embarrass you. Keep saying you're from the south. I'm about to fly off the handle."
"Mama, I declare you do that. I will make sure Aunt Olivia tells the entire world in my next YouTube video all the embarrassing stories of your first few months on the job; I know she got some juicy stories she's dying to share."
"Oh, I have so many I would just love to share." Olivia laughs, almost evilly rubbing her hands together. "You do that, Liv, you ain't getting laid for months, and after the stressful days you've been having, you sure you want to go down that route? I know how sex relieves your stress, and we both know I got the flexibility and the energy of a baby rabbit." Amanda flaunts her hips, I watch Olivia's eyes wander up her long smooth-shaven ivy cream legs. All 5'7 frame of Amanda is on sexual display right now. Her baggy white boxers are soaked in sweat sticking to her legs, but her entire stomach shows since she's only wearing a Grey sports bra. Amanda's body is perfect; her stomach is flat, tight, making no mistake that this is a woman who spends hours sculpturing her body to the image she wants to be seen as every breath she takes, her stomach becomes tighter, and tenser sucking in as she breaths in deeply.
People who are confident in their shape have no qualms about dressing, so their midriff is exposed or viewable through revealing/tight clothing; I wish my stomach were half as flat and firm as Amanda's, and I spend hours working out, my job is physically demanding, and while I am proud of my biceps, my stomach is a feature I am less confident about hence why I wore a standard length jersey to cover up my not flat or firm stomach. I regret this slightly now as sweat contentiously rolls down my damn body, making me sticky and hot and on the verge of dropping my shirt sticking to my skin painfully.
Amanda is forty-years-old with the energy of a damn twenty-year-old…a tremendously vital person, interested in everybody and everything; she's bold. She takes no prisoner doesn't hold back her feelings or opinions. She's stricken in beauty even now covered in sweat with the start of sunburn on her shoulders; her blond hair mattered in sweat and knots pulled back into a ponytail; the beauty just oozes out of her. Amanda is tall and lean, hungry for action. No one could mistake Amanda for fragile or vulnerable in the land of predator verse prey she's is for damn sure the predator she doesn't even go easy on her daughter, slapping the ball out of Canton's hands laughing as she dribbles down the court, jumping and slam dunking the ball through the net coming down hard on her feet, I see a flicker of pain cross her face for a brief second as she stumbles on her one knee but that second flashes quickly by she shakes it outlets out a deep breath and promptly races to get the ball which has bounced away all while grinning at her daughter whose arms are crossed in an angry expression.
No one else besides Olivia and I had noticed the flicker of pain. I watch Olivia's eyes wandering over Amanda, and I can tell Olivia isn't happy that Amanda is hiding her injury. Olivia stands only an inch taller than Amanda, her long caramel streaked hair braided in a French style braid bouncing down her back, sweat also pours over her body, but she makes it look less glamorous; maybe it's because she's close to fifty-seven-years-of-age and has long passed the stage of trying to give a damn about how she looks in stages of extreme heat and physical activity. Dressed in sweat pants of a beautiful pink shade I've never seen before and a Grey halter top Olivia is gorgeous; there's no question in anyone's mind. How this woman is fifty-six nearing fifty-seven and still so radiant is beyond comprehension precisely without trying she isn't wearing makeup, her clothes aren't designer made yet she's beautiful and sexy, her body isn't flat and firm the way Amanda's is, there's signs of age and wrinkles, weight gain in certain parts but by no definition is she fat or out of shape, her biceps are at least a good nine inches.
"Don't quit, Canton. Your mommy maybe being mean right now because you're little, but you are not out of the game; use your opponent's weakness against them."
"I don't know any weakness, Aunt Olivia!"
"Sure you do. Your mommy has arthritis in her left knee. Remember, hold the ball close to your body as you dribble down court keep your eyes out for her; when you see her coming, you turn to your right, so it forces your Mama to pivot left, and when she does, she'll be putting all the body weight on her bad side, so she'll never be able to move quickly enough block your shot, you dab she slams into the ground!"
Olivia and Noah show the move she is trying to teach her goddaughter and soon-to-be step-daughter Canton, who claps excitedly while Amanda scowls. "Not fair Liv, you're supposed to be my girlfriend."
"I am, and I am looking out for your health baby, you keep ignoring that pain, you'll end up in the hospital having surgery, so if this forces you to admit you have an issue, I am winning! Swish just like that all air, no net!" Olivia sinks the ball into the basket with a smooth jump shot and high-fives her son.
"I'll never be that good, Aunt Liv; I'm only nine!"
"So was I when I first started playing sweetie, and I sucked so badly the kids use to call me stumble-feet-Livia." the kids all giggle at Olivia, whose checks are flaming redder than a crab's shell. "I didn't quit though, I loved the game, so I practiced all the time, rain or shine, I excised so I could get strong; the only reason I have the skills I have now is that I didn't quit."
"I want to be as good as you, Aunt Liv!"
"Keep practicing, sweetie, you will be and keep watching your Mama, and learn how not to play the sport; she's what we call a ball-hog."
"Hey! I am not! I can't help it if you losers are too slow." Olivia's fingers sneak up on Amanda's slim dime-sized waist, wrapping around her hips, tickling her in a sudden attack she never saw coming. "Hey! Don't do that! Stop!" Slapping gently at Olivia's fingers, Amanda tries to kick and elbow Olivia to defend herself. Still, Olivia is quick on her feet and can sidestep and block every jab and kick Amanda throws her away, never relenting with the tickling. "oh, Amanda, my dear, you aren't ticklish, are you?"
"No!" Amanda's attempt to hide the laughter is weak, and she bursts out her face redden quickly as she doubles over towards the ground; Olivia is quick to jump onto the younger woman's slender back, her legs wrapped around her waist. "Yes, you are!" she replied as she immediately starts tickling Amanda's belly. All of us laugh as Amanda tries to grab Olivia's hands, but Olivia moves too fast. To help Olivia, the kids quickly tickle Amanda's legs, and Amanda starts to show just how vulnerable she is.
"Aghh!" she squeals in girlish laughter, falling to her knees hitting the hot asphalt. Canton and Noah are next to fall on top of Olivia, who can't stay on Amanda's back safely without hurting her, so she rolls off and lands on her back. "Get Aunt Olivia!" Amanda calls out, laughing as her checks flame ruby red misty tears of laughter fall with some snot as she points to Olivia, who is flat on her back trying to block the kids who pounce, instantly roaring like lion cubs and tickling Olivia, who gleefully cries out.
"Oh no! I'm defenseless!"
Savannah moves next to where I stand with my arm now over Remington's shoulders as we watch the scene. "Mama got lucky when she found Olivia; she's dreamed of her for so long, ever since she was a teenager. She saw her on a Barbara Walter's special about female's changing the world through activism; it's what inspired my Mama to become a cop; she swore one day she would work for Olivia, and somewhere along the line of studying her mentor, and working alongside her over the past nine years, she fell in love with Olivia. She never excepted Liv to feel the same way."
"Liv's her Captain, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"How does that work?" Savannah bites at her lower lip, watching the four of them tickle and roll on the ground, which they will be very sore from tomorrow, I am sure, and regret this move. "They keep their professional and personal lives strictly separate, When at work they don't show any affection; Aunt Olivia tends to be harder on Mama, than the others, so she is never accused of favoritism, and it pushes Mama to be better, faster, and smarter. They try to limit shop talk at home, and if there are ever issues, they have learned to talk without judgment and to listen. It isn't easy, but they love each other enough to make an effort."
Kelly and Matt help the ladies stand as they shake off the gravel and stones from their hair and knees, checking each other over; I see Olivia smile as she takes Amanda's hands and pulls her close. "Sunlight sure looks sexy on you, baby. Sunlight beautiful with eyes that are so blue they blow my mind to the moon. I can't believe God finally gave you to me." Olivia's hands rest on Amanda's waist, while Amanda's rest on Olivia's neck and right check their faces only inches away from each other. Amanda, I know there's going to be some ups and downs, but with you to wrap my arms around, I'm fine, I'm more than fine. I'm pretty as a peach cause I have my beautiful ripe Georgia peach in my arms."
Their lips breeze over each other in a quick kiss of comfort and joy, slow sensual passion. My eyes glaze to Matt from across the court. Could we ever work? "Hey guys!" my thoughts are cut off by the sound of our friends Hailey Upton and Jay Halstead with Erin Lindsay coming up. "hey, wanna play a round of shot-to-shot?"
"What the hell is that, Herrman?"
"It's horse but with some added rules that Stella and Otis thought up."
"Oh dear God, I am already afraid." Jay moans, tossing off his jacket taking Hailey and Erin's. "When did you get into town, Erin?" I move to hug her, breathing in her sweet pineapple scent sinking into her arms. It's been so long since I've seen Erin, who moved to New York almost five years ago. We usually get together every year to catch up, but neither one of us traveled with the pandemic this year. "Hey, Girl, it's great to see you too, sweetie, been too long; you're right. I got into town last night. It's Hank's birthday this weekend, so I thought I would surprise him."
"Oh, that's sweet. Did it work?"
"Yeah, he was so shocked and so touched; it's what he needed. We both did; how have you been?" "I'm good, thanks for asking."
"Are we gonna play ball ladies are gossip?"
Herrman yells towards us, throwing the ball, which Erin is quick to catch on a bounce and send it sailing through the air a good six feet away from the basket, but it sinks right in, shocking everyone into silence. "okay, then." Stella finally breaks the silence laughing, impressed by Erin, who Stella only met once before Erin moved.
"Rules of the game are simple. We line up in a straight line first person who goes selects a type of shot to do. If they miss, they need to take a shot of either whiskey or Tequila; they have to reveal a personal secret no one knows about them. The next person who goes can either do the same shot or choose a new one if they sink it, the line keeps moving with that same shot, whoever misses must do the consequences, rules remain the same till the line is over if everyone makes the shot we just keep moving till the first person is up again and chooses a new type of shot. Kids, we have a red bull for you, so don't even try to take the alcohol. We have five cops here."
Kelly stands tall next to me, arms crossed over his bare chest watching in admiration and laughter as Stella twirls the basketball on her finger, explaining the rules; he's so in love with her it makes my heart twist in happiness. Kelly's eyes dance as he takes in the sight of his gorgeous girlfriend, who is a bundle of creative, exuberant beauty. I had tied her curly frizzed raven hair into a ponytail before the game started now that bounces against her slender shoulders; Stella's eyes are a beautiful opalescent sky of dark amber, which glow in excitement as she instructs everyone how to play the game she created with our late friend Otis. I wonder if Matt would ever look at me the same way Kelly looks at Stella.
Why would he, though? Matt is the Captain of a firehouse; he's a damn firefighter who looks like a Demi-God. Matt Casey can have any damn woman he pleases. He has bedded more than his fair of beauties, one of them being my ex-best-friend and Ambo partner Gabriela Dawson, a silver glove in boxing, and an MMA black belt. She is a superwoman, basically a true athletic goddess. I can only imagine how flexible she was in the bedroom; why would Matt look at me twice?
Our eyes meet as the line keeps moving, all of us landing the first shot Kelly has laid out for us to do a simple bounce and left-layover. Matt's eyes hold an emotional storm that is brewing inside a tsunami in the making. When the damn breaks that is keeping this storm at bay, God help us all. How can I help him tear down these walls he's holding up? Matt must struggle so severely, needing to release all the torment my heart may not break, but I can feel the strings being pulled torn and the blood leaking out drop by drop.
Guilt and fear overcome me; he's hurting because of me. All because I want commitment. Someone who'll go the distance I need somebody with staying power who'll make me go weak in the knees. I need honor and love in my life from somebody who's playing for keeps, a man who'll stand by me.
A man who will walk through the fire, and be my flame in the night when I am blind in the darkness. A friend and a lover who'll love me for the rest of my life. I've had so many promises broken, and three words left unspoken. They just left me aching for more, I've been engaged twice, but never with a man who accepted me for who I am deep inside my core, each of them wanted to change me mold me to their perfect woman.
Commitment, I need honor and love in my life from somebody who's playing for keeps.
Is that selfish? My stomach twists, forming a painful knot, pain levels I have never experienced stab my stomach weakening my knees, my heart races, sweat rolls steadily down my already stickily soaked body, The twisting knots cause waves of nausea to clog my throat, forcing me to my knees, bending over my ponytail smacks my check as I cough, trying to keep the acid down in my stomach. Guilt is a fucking bitch. I want to stab her so damn hard.
Don't cry, Sylvie; there's no crying in basketball.
"Hey, you okay?" Suddenly Matt is beside me, rubbing my back handing me a water bottle. "Keep hydrated the sun isn't playing games today; she is angry winter's been hiding her ass away for so long; she's come back with a vengeance."
Taking the bottle from Matt, I lean back, so I am sitting on the heels of my feet, the balls supporting my entire body as I take deep breaths, sipping the cool water, which helps ease my discomfort a little.
"Yeah, I'm better now, thanks. I don't know what came over me."
Matt's hands grip my elbows, helping me up. I sway a little from the dizziness of standing suddenly. "I got you, Brett. I won't leave your side; maybe you should sit down till you feel a little better." I see Remington looking towards me with worry in his eyes. Swallowing my pain, I let out a deep breath; I need to be strong for my son. He can't see me falling apart. "I'm good, Matt; thanks again, it was just a brief spell." "You sure, Sylvie?" I nod as I shake out my stiffness in my legs. "you're up, Casey." Herrman tosses the ball to Matt, who glances my way again. "I'm good; thanks for the water. It's a help." I take another sip, feeling it sink into my stomach, twisting.
"A kick shot, Severide. Are you kidding me?"
Kelly laughs. "Just face it, squad gods beat truck lackeys any day."
"You got this, daddy!" All of us look up as we hear Matt and Amanda's daughter Sonnet Knox Casey-Rollins, fifteen, yell from the sidelines. She's dressed in her cheerleading uniform, having just gotten back from an away competition. Remington and Shea both turn to glance her over their eyes, staring at her chest, which even I envy she's bigger than I am and half my age. I'm close enough to slap both of their heads, which causes them to groan their hands fly over the sting I left on them.
Sonnet's words seem to give Matt confidence because he takes a breath, dribbles the ball for a few minutes running back and forth to get his flow going, Kelly of course attempts to block him. I take in the view of Matt and Kelly shirtless, battling for the ball. My jawline drops open, a little drool spills out over my lower lip as I gaze in an almost dream-like state at Matt; beads of perspiration glisten across his 5'10 inch frame. They roll down his forty-inch chest and across his 15-inch biceps.
Matt moves quickly across the court, hardly panting his face however is flushed a rose color more from laughing than exhaustion, though he has a very athletic body and is every bit a god on the court like Kelly, except his blond hair is longer than Kelly's and soaked in sweat, they make it all look natural and effortless. I suck my water harder, feeling my heart race as my tongue slides over the top of my bottle, which I wish was Matt's chest or his penis. My legs clench in a spasm; I am lost in that daydream so hard I feel the tingling of sweet, warm pleasure quiver in between my legs.
Remembering how Matt's powerful hands held me carried me firmly cupped my ass cheeks as if he claimed them as his and only his forever. My eyes had laid upon his handsome boyish face bounded in youthful energy even at forty-two. Matt's face reminds me of an angel sent to remind me of love and saving grace. His touch heated me as his kisses enlightened my soul; all my thoughts of this is wrong-he's my boss or my best friend's ex-husband vanished. All I felt were his touch and kisses, his hands roaming through my hair, over my back, his lips upon mine, our breath suspended. The intake of his breath poking through his shirt as my breasts squeezed against his nipples, his bull-blown erection trapped inside his jeans begging to get loose to be treated with TLC from my hands or my warm mouth.
Frenzied kisses as my sweater came off my back, hit the couch, and he crawled on top of me, his weight fully pressed onto mine. We would have gone all night if I hadn't asked, "If Gabby came back, would you still choose me?"
"Brett, are you okay?" Stella's fingers wrap around my check tracing along my jawline snapping me back to the moment are in now. Damn, Stella. Didn't anyone tell her you can't leave someone in the middle of a memory. In the middle of an unfinished song, in the memory of a dance we never got to dance. Now all I will be able to focus on the rest of the damn day will be the unfinished memories, and dreams of what could have been. Stella laughs cracking open a cold beer which she passes to me after she sips I take a small sip as she smiles, I don't even bother to ask what is amusing her.
Back to the game now Matt drops the ball, and kicks it through the basket quickly. Turning to Sonnet he raises his closed fists and pumps them up yelling like he's Tarzan. "Thanks, sweetie; how was cheering?" "A-W-E-S-O-M-E!" Sonnet kicks out her legs, extending them long and gracefully, reminding me of my cheer days. "We're not leaving nationals without a title this year! We are kicking ass!
"Aren't you a little too confident for a freshman?" Shea calls out, rolling his eyes. "I heard the freshmen cheerleaders suck this year, and I'm not just talking about all the boys either." Shay is so fast to move this time I can't even blink before she is shoving Shea hard, slapping his head. "I know I did not raise you to be rude or disrespectful towards any woman ever, so what the hell got into you? Sonnet is as close to a cousin as you are ever going to get, so apologize now!"
"Okay, Mom, damn a little dramatic, much, sorry." Shea rolls his eyes as Shay continuously slaps her son, glaring at Kelly for a bit of help. "Not to me, dumb-ass, apologize to Sonnet." Sonnet stands with her closed fists on her hips, glaring daggers at Shea. "I'm waiting. Don't be ashamed. All little boys grow at different paces; it's okay if you're not mature enough to admit you're not man enough to apologize. I'm sure someday you'll grow a pair of balls. Today just ain't the day, little boy."
Shea's face alters from going to ashen Grey to fire engine red, his nervous fingers clenched and unclench as he looks away; Stella and I cover our mouths laughing as Amanda howls loud and proud.
"That's my girl stand up for yourself and never let a boy make you feel ashamed or tear you down. Put them cowboy boots on and stomp their little pricks down, yeah!"
"I wasn't talking about you sucking; I know you're a virgin in every way. I just...
"You suck at apologies, Shea, dude. Are you sure you're not the one who's sucking all the boys? Cause you sure excel at sucking."
Everyone laughs as Shea's face becomes the color of an over-ripped tomato. He looks down, kicking at the stones on the gravel. "Okay, enough before this gets out of hand, and someone crosses a line; next up, Shay." Kelly eyes his son with hard eyes as he speaks, passing Shay the ball.
She groans, knowing there is no way she will make a kick shot, and of course, being half drunk already she fails miserably; the ball gets kicked alright over the fence and bounces down the damn street. "I got it." Jay jogs off after it as Stella grins, bringing her the Tequila and whiskey bottles. "Drink, babe, nice long sip." "why both?" "Because you drink Tequila like water bitch, it's absorbed into your bloodstream and does not affect your ass."
"Can't argue with that logic, bottoms up!" Shay knocks down both bottles, gasping as the warm powerful liquid burns her throat stings her eyes, she shakes it off screaming a little, but keeps taking long sips nearly choking her eyes mist over. Her face fills with color as she spits, coughs, and wipes her snot and tears away. "Spill the secrets, not the booze, bitch damn."
"Remind me to bitch slap the hell out of you when I am sober tomorrow for this idea, Stella."
"Bitch you ain't got the balls."
"Well, you're right on that one; sucking balls is your specialty; we all know I'm into pussy."
"You got issues, Shay!"
"That's what all the women say."
"Oh, just spill your secret already."
Shay struggles emotionally with what secret to reveal. I can see the struggle radiating in her eyes. She's so private even I barely know her personal life, and I live with her and Shea, we're partners on Ambo together. "I didn't dump Jaz because she was cheating on me," Shay mentions her last girlfriend, who she had been dating for over a year and was so in love with that she was planning to ask her to marry her. The mention of Jaz's name sends pain stabbing through every nerve cell in her body. I can see how she tenses up; her voice gets softer; She can't meet our eyes.
"Jaz dumped me because she swears I am in love with someone else." none of us speak as Shay passes Sonnet the ball, who joins us in the game. Shay's eyes look misty, though, as she jogs past me, wiping them. I miss the next shot I am supposed to take because all I can think about is Shay; who did Jaz believe she was so in love with, and why would she? I've never seen Shay look at another woman since they got together. Shay is so loyal and a romantic who spent all her time trying to make Jaz happy.
Why would Shay keep this to herself? Unless it's true, and she's ashamed. Who is she in love with, though? I know it's not my business, but I can't help but wonder why she doesn't trust me? Everyone needs love to survive, and we only have one life to live, so we need to trust those in our lives to be there when the pain is so much more severe than we can handle. Looking at Shay now, I can see the way she's been handling things is to drink more, she's hardly eating, and she's lost weight. How did I not notice before; what kind of friend am I? Did anyone notice? I look towards Kelly, but his lips are smashed against Stella's.
"Drink up, Sylvie." Stella grins, handing me the whiskey fresh off her lip-lock. "spill the secrets that are twisting your stomach into knots, and don't deny I see it all." I glare at her, knowing she's hinting over my little gag session earlier trying to say it wasn't heat-related. I hate when she's right, and she knows it. "I had revenge sex with Greg, so Matt would notice me and get jealous. So Matt would fight for me."
"Sylvie, you don't have to have sex with someone for me to notice you. I notice you every day all day; I can't keep my eyes off you; you've been in every one of my thoughts for months."
"How was the sex though, girl!" Stella calls out laughing; Matt and I both blush deeply; I can not believe I blurted that out loud. God, and I am not even that drunk, but the mixture of exhaustion, heat, and alcohol isn't helping to keep my sanity. I focus my eyes on Matt, ignoring Stella's crude remark and the twinkle in her eyes. "Matt. I'm not a slut; I genuinely like Greg; we've been on a few dates; he's nice, charming, funny, listens to my feelings, and cares for me. I slept with Greg because he found the courage to tell me how he feels, and I respect that. Greg makes me happy, even if he isn't the man I truly want to be with, at least he fought to get me to notice him."
Matt looks away from me if it hurts him; I can't say I am sorry, I hope it burns a little, so he remembers how that feels, and maybe he'll fight for me a little. Placing his hands on his head, he moans. I wonder if I went too personal. He is still my Captain, and maybe some lines shouldn't be crossed.
"You okay, daddy?" Sonnet looks up from the middle of the court where her sisters, their Mama, and Olivia are dancing and singing.
"When the working day is done
Oh, girls
They wanna have fun
Oh, girls
Just wanna have fun."
"You've been having headaches ever since the car dragged you last week, when are you going to get checked out, daddy?" All of us turn to him, staring daggers at him. We've all noticed he's been a little off, but we all assumed it was because of the complicated mess between him and I. None of us thought he might be injured. "I'm fine, baby, just too much sun." Matt glares at me, smirking as if to say two can play at this game, Sylvie.
"You can't even acknowledge what my Mom said to you, can you, Uncle Matt? What kind of man ignores a woman who is asking him to fight for her? Seriously, Shea is 15, and he can even be a man and half-ass apologize, and you can't tell a woman as beautiful, sweet, and brave as my Mom how you feel? You don't deserve her, man."
"Enough, Remington, I love that you're defending me; I get your upset, but this is between Matt, and I stay your lane, show respect towards your uncle."
"Why he didn't respect you when he left you alone on the couch crying that night, he wasn't the one listening to you crying yourself to sleep every night for two weeks straight afterwards."
"Enough. I don't need everyone I work with knowing my private business."
"Sorry, mom, but I won't stop fighting for you; queens deserve a king, and kings fight for their love and land."
"He ain't wrong, Matt," Stella comments, taking the ball from Matt's hands passing it to Sonnet. "You can race into burning buildings all day for strangers, jump out of a moving fire truck to get to Brett when you thought she was hurt. Nearly get yourself killed, but you can't be emotionally vulnerable with her, and that's all she's asking for is commitment. Makes no damn sense."
"I never said it made sense, Stella. I don't understand it either. I would love nothing more than to tell Brett how I feel, but every time I try, I simply can't. It's as if my mind goes blank. All my emotions shut down."
"Sounds like you, Amanda."
Amanda snaps her head to look at Olivia, shocked and slightly hurt. Or pissed, I'm not sure which her eyes blaze in a few different emotions. Her lips remain closed, almost blue from straining to keep them shut and not saying what she feels. Okay, yup, anger wins.
Shay passes the Tequila to the left as Herrman gives the whiskey to the right; we all take sips of each. The kids have now taken control of the ball and are racing around the court laughing and shooting.
I lean my head down on Stella's shoulder exhausted her fingers wrap around my cheek, tracing along my jawline. "You good sis?" "Yeah, I'm good, hon, thanks. I was thinking how perfect today is. It's like God dialed up the weather channel and told them clear blue skies today."
Stella laughs, passing me the beer after she sips, I take a small sip as she smiles. "yeah, it is pretty damn perfect, man Otis would have loved this a fun game with his boys, pretty ladies, and plenty of sunshine, home-cooked BBQ, beer, he would have hated the country music, but we can't win them all."
"You two know, Otis wouldn't have lasted till halftime if he were here. He would be court-side cracking open a beer, making jokes, and yelling some Russian slang none of us would have had a damn clue what it meant. He would have been snapping pictures and rolling his eyes at American Sports. Fuck, I gotta take a major piss." Kelly's outburst has all laughing.
"He's right though Otis would be side court laughing loving this day, they say he's in a better place, and I believe in heaven, but it's not fair he should be here, I miss his crazy ass."
"We all do, Sylvie, we all do. This is one of those moments that have Otis name written all over it mocking the Squad claiming truck as superior and impressing the girls."
"You're right Stella, and it's hard knowing he isn't here, and he should be but we all know we do a dangerous job, and three are no promises of tomorrow. Otis knew the risks he died doing what he dreamed of doing his entire life, he's our brother forever, even if he isn't here. Today though isn't a day to be sad." Kelly groans as he talks, his hand sliding over his private part. "today is about helping Shay forget that eight-years-ago today she almost didn't make it out of a call alive, Shay spent so many months recovering and fighting to live. May always brings back those memories. We came out here to help get her mind off the darkness, and keep the depressing at bay so let's channel the Otis talk, she still feels guilty she made it out, and he didn't." Shay's eyes avoid looking at any of us as Kelly reminds us why we decided to come out here, I feel a rush of guilt knowing I am only at fifty-one because of what happened to Shay.
"We're not used to emotions. That's why Matt." Kelly address him, "Do you ever remember your dad or any male relatives talking to you about emotions, love, or even sex?" "Benny sure as hell never talked to me about any of it; all I got as a kid was Men don't cry, real men don't show weakness, and tears are weakness. Flowers and chocolate are how you make a woman smile; I never had anyone teach me how to be a gentleman, or what the rules of dating were, or to pull out when you don't have a condom; hell, no one ever taught me about condoms. I learned everything from TV and gossip at school. The first time a girl gave me head, I freaked out thinking I got her pregnant; I ran home telling my Mom. I'm going to be a dad!"
"It's not funny, assholes." He groans as we all laugh, his cheeks turning bright pink. "Oh! My God!" Shay squeals out, wrapping her arms across her stomach, her legs crossed. "How did Jennifer take that one? Fuck, I gotta piss now too!" "Mom nearly passed out. Did I mention I was only twelve-years-old?"
"Damn young Casanova, so what happened?"
"Mom dragged me out of the house, down the street, and into the church. She made me confess my sins to Father McDonald, who was like ninety-eight-years-old deaf and half dead. He told me I would go to hell for sinning against my mother and sinning upon my own body."
"Poor baby." Stella throws her arms across Kelly, laughing as she buries her face in his chest. He holds her tight, laughing a little himself now. "It gets worse, so I heard from a friend that when a girl gives you head, it means she's a dog who does tricks, and you own her. So in my dumb-ass little mind, I went out and got a dog collar, a pink one with fake diamonds in the collar. I heard diamonds were a girl's best friend. So I went to school and gave her the collar in front of the entire class; I wanted to show everyone she was mine. But when I called her my dog and told her I wanted to see more tricks, she slapped me and ran out crying."
"I got a dentition, and my Mom was called, but instead of explaining to me what I did wrong, she grounded me and said I was too much like my father for her to take. I was angry, and confused, and hurt because I liked that girl so much. Obviously, after that, she wanted nothing to do with me ever again."
"I'm sorry, Kelly, that must have been such a frustration moment."
"It was Stella, I had to learn so much on my own, and it's difficult to figure out what's right and what's not, especially when women all have different preferences."
"Well, you're an amazing man, Kelly, and I am proud to be your lady, and I will gladly be your trick any day as long as I get this rock-hard, thirsty bloodhound as my treat whenever I want it." Stella's fingers graze over the outline of Kelly's quickly hardening erection. "Aw, man don't do that, I really gotta piss. That ain't helping." Looking away, I shake my head, looking towards Matt.
"So, did you have anyone to talk to growing up? Damn, I have to pee now, too."
"No, my dad was a beer and game man never saw an ounce of emotions other than anger from him. Never once did he say he was proud of us; I remember a few times when my Mom would have to beg him to take her to a fancy restaurant so she could get dressed up and feel like a woman, not a mother or homemaker. Dad would laugh and tell her to stop being a dumb bitch; sometimes, he hit her he told her flowers were for pussies and little girls women don't need flowers or chocolate. Women need dick and a spatula because their only places were the kitchen and the bedroom."
I don't move an inch transcended into Matt's story, even though I have to suddenly pee so bad I feel as if I could float away. The sun is burning my back, making me regret the choice of a jersey. I can see tiny red spots on Matt's bare chest and back, making me want to kiss away his burns and the pain of his youth. I don't move through, knowing Matt is in a vulnerable place right now, and the wrong move too soon can speak him into hiding.
Matt's pain is so raw it melts my heart, my knees tremble, it hitched my breath. I can hear it suckling inside my chest the way pneumonia starts; I do not know what to say to him, shocked at how crude his dad was. It makes me wonder how Matt became such an amazing man; even if he can't express his emotions, his heart is so big it leaves no one untouched. Pushing myself forward, I slowly reach out to touch his shoulder. "I'm sorry you went through that; I know you love both your parents, and being torn between them couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't; thanks for the support, Sylvie. I worshiped my dad as a kid. I joined every sports team I could because sports were a manly thing; I exercised and beefed up to make him proud. He never said he was, but he came to every game, and if I did badly, he made sure everyone knew he yelled so loud. When he wasn't yelling, I took it as a sign that I was doing well."
"Didn't any of your girlfriends ever help you see that expressing your emotions is healthy?" My index finger brushes over Matt's jawline. "No, Hallie, and I fought over kids all the time I wanted them; she didn't. Everything was all about her career, and her career had to come first because it was her baby. Every time I brought it up, she shut me down or pushed me on the bed and had sex with me; I mean, the sex was amazing, but it made it clear to me I wasn't allowed to have feelings."
"Beth used me for sex against her ex-husband. I wasn't allowed to have any say in where our relationship went; that didn't last long for obvious reasons. Naomi was a rebound who was all about her career, and had no intentions of settling down, and I sure as hell wasn't moving."
"Gabby, well, she was the love of my life." Matt's beautiful eyes glisten in pain and self-guilt, breaking me inch by inch; the earlier knot returns, twisting along with the sharp pain of my bladder. "Gabby was all about her needs, and I didn't notice at first because her beauty, her laughter transfixed me, her fierceness; it was sexy as hell. We started as friends, so I paid little attention to some of the traits, we shared so many of the same dreams we came from screwed-up families. We both had ambition and drive, and we got so caught up in the work stuff for the longest time we lost sight of the "us" by the time it caught up with us, we had grown apart, but I was so in love with her I wanted to fight for her, for us. She had other ideas, and if I wouldn't bend to her rules, then I wasn't worth the fight."
'I guess I never looked deep inside to see how her leaving affected me, Sylvie, and I am sorry for that. You deserve better. You deserve a man who will fight for you, and I promise I will be that man if you give me time to work through some stuff."
"Yo' I have to pee so bad, anyone coming?" Hailey jumps up and down, Amanda rolls her eyes. "You Chicago cops, man, way too much fluff. You gotta learn to hold it, man, like a true boss bitch."
"I don't know about you New York cops but us Chicago Cops when we gotta pee, we gotta pee now. Maybe you donut, coffee-loving NYPD officers have time to glaze over the fact that a human bladder can only go on so much before it bursts, but we're not so frosted over here in Chicago. We're tough bitches; we deal with the cold all the time, so bring your smack talk, New York. I'll smack you back to that big apple with a bite already taken out, but seriously, I have to pee!"
"Matt, thank you for being vulnerable with me; I know it's difficult; I'm never going to be that woman who shuts you down or out. Honesty is the only way to have a healthy relationship. We both need to trust each other; it's difficult. We're only human will all fall and stumble. Sometimes we will crash, but we have to know our partner will be there to pick us up and help us stand when we are weak. I will always ask you how you feel, and I will always care, Matt, because love is selfless, Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy; it does not boast; it is not proud. It does not dishonor others; it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. If something affects you, Matt, it affects me, so I will always care."
"I want to believe you, Brett, but it hasn't been my experience. Even when Gabby and I lost our baby and Louie, no one ever asked me how I felt or if I needed anything. All the focus was on Gabby, and I get it she went through a physical loss, and it's traumatic to the body and mind. The thing was, though, it was my baby too, and I loved that baby from the second I knew it existed."
"You both lost a child, Matt. It's a loss no time will ever heal, not completely. Your hurt is no less valuable. Can you walk with me to the bathroom? I'm sorry, but I can't hold it any longer." chuckling a little, Matt lays his hand on my back and nods. "You've wanted to be a dad again ever since I knew you. Sonnet living in New York City for so many years affected you; I know you felt guilty for missing so much of her life. I saw how excited you were when Gabby told you she was pregnant. Your gorgeous eyes lit up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller."
"The most gorgeous sight on earth!" Amanda and Olivia call out as they follow. "Loss is devastating, no matter who you lose. Losing a child is unbearable no matter how long you got to hold their little fingers, see their smile, or if you only ever got to hear their little heartbeat. Babies represent hopes, dreams. It's the birth of your emotions, ones you never knew existed. Babies bring a warm, fussy feeling to the pits of our stomachs and a glow of hope to our hearts. Men and women all have equal dreams for their babies; losing a baby affects us all differently, but it affects us, period. No matter what labels society put on men, it can't stop you from feeling; it can only prevent you from expressing."
"Experience, Sylvie?"
"I mean not with losing a baby or being a man; I am a woman last I checked."
"Yes, you are honey, all women, and a gorgeous one."
I blush deeper at Matt's words as we walk down a rock-filled path. Walking along the path to the restroom I'm taken back by the beauty of nature the pretty colors and leaves, fresh green grass and blooming flowers. I spot a bunny playing in the field only a few yards away which makes me gasp it's floppy ears round little fluffy body and big eyes filled with curiosity of life makes me tear up. "you okay Brett?"
"Yeah, I'm good Kelly. Sorry I'm a big softie for animals." Each step makes me moan and hold my stomach tighter. Kelly laughs loudly, which only makes my checks burn deeper. "Yeah we know we love you anyway. You're adorable, Sylvie. My brother always melted over animals too, you remind me of my brother."
All of us turn to Kelly, confused by his statement. "I remind you of Otis?" "No, honey, my biological brother TJ. Terrance Jordan Severide he was my best friend; I had him for sixteen years of my life."
"What was TJ's favorite animal?"
"Cat's he loved how their little paws felt against his chest when he held them and how powerful they sounded when they purred."
My heart swells hearing Kelly talk about his brother who I never even knew he had until a few moments ago. I want to know everything about him but the rawness in his voice makes me take things slow. Why in the seven-years that I have known Kelly I never knew anything about TJ, why now dose he pick today to open up about his brother.
Stella squeezes his hip to show her support and concern for Kelly. Why did he never mention the fact he had a brother to any of us? I can see Stella's eyes as she turns to look at me. She had no idea either. I wonder what happened to him, how old he was when he passed away, and if Kelly feels guilty. How do I remind him of his brother?
Kelly knows I have these questions. I see them reflected in his eyes as he turns to me smiling, letting me know he isn't offended or feeling trapped into answering. "you remind me of TJ, the way your eyes lite up, how you love animals so much, how your checks flame so bright when you are embarrassed. There's a sweetness and a rarity in your vulnerability that I find so endearing. TJ was a sweet kid. No matter how my dad tried to toughen him up, he never wavered in his authentication. Sometimes it hurts to look at you because you just remind me so much of TJ, he would have been thirty-three if he had lived, and I wonder what he would have been doing, who he would have been."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Kelly. I wish I knew what I could do to make it easier for you. I don't mean to hurt you." "Sylvie, it's not a bad thing your beauty is a blessing, a rarity. I love it about you; please never change babe, I love watching you being yourself. Never change. I love how strong your faith is, it's special and beautiful. Your conviction to being vitreous when so many young people throw away their virginity as if it was an old newspaper. It's refreshing."
"I'm not a virgin Kelly. I have a child."
Kelly laughs throwing back his head slapping my back. "I know, Sylvie, I didn't mean it in that way, I just mean that you value your body, your heart and soul all equally. I know you have sexual desires everyone dose but you don't have sex simply to get laid, you put your heart on the line you trust and get to know the person first. That's rare, and sweet."
Kelly's face twists in pain, and what I think is guilt. I look at Stella, who is near tears. It sucks seeing someone you love hurting, especially men who see it as a weakness; both seem to feel guilty for showing their emotions to us.
"Brothers leave a special mark in your hearts, Kelly." he nods "you have a younger brother, right, Sylvie?" I nod "two; my middle sibling is two and half younger than I am. His name is Beacon Remington Brett. Beacon was a wild child always getting caught up in some sort of trouble, which I know is hypercritical since I was the one who got pregnant at seventeen. God, where is this bathroom!"
"Beacon was the most adorable little boy though he charmed everyone with his big blue eyes, and dimples, and that spiky blond hair. He perfected a southern tang at an early age; every time he got into trouble, he batted his eyelashes, pointed to me and said my big sissy was supposed to be watching me. So I got into trouble instead of him."
"Because you were the oldest and should have known better." Kelly howls, slapping my back again which is starting to sting from the sun burn I feel growing across the shoulders. "it was worse when our younger brother Romeo joined us. He was four years younger than I was..oh god, bathroom, sorry, I'll tell you later."
I sprint towards the bathroom, neck to neck with Hailey who is already grabbing her jeans to unbuckle them. Quickly sanitizing the seat I sit to relieve myself. The next few minutes, all you hear inside is the sound of water splashing on water and little moans of relief. When we all meet up at the sink, most of us are still quiet. Stella nudges my hip. "Feeling better?" "Yeah, I had to go so bad thanks, how do I get Matt to open up more? Do you think he's still in love with Dawson?"
"I wouldn't be surprised, Sylvie; she's a hard woman to stop loving." Shay's comment makes me sink back into my self-doubt.
"Don't listen to the drunk ass bitch over here, and, Yes, honey. I do think Matt's feelings are real." Stella glares at Shay reassuring me she believes Matt is telling me the truth, and not playing with my heart.
"Yes, they are, Sylvie!" We scream as Matt and Kelly come racing inside the ladies room. "What are you doing in here?"
Both men tear into separate stalls neither close the door. They are flushed and panting quickly, unzipping. "Sorry, the men's room here is closed, and the other two are condemned. Shit, ah!" Both men groan as they relieve themselves. Stella and I lean back against the sinks, looking at them, whispering. "It's so big, Stella, I can't take my eyes off it; it's semi-hard and so thick." "it's not even fully erect, Sylvie. Can you imagine how that would feel going inside of you fully erect?"
"We can hear you!" both of us tense up laughing. "Not as impressive as Kelly's though, how do you even walk afterward, damn girl?"
"Some days, it's hard, let me tell you. Ouch."
"Don't be bashful, Stella. Tell her how a thirteen-inch erection feels when it's pounding away at you and your screaming at the top of your lungs. Don't worry. Matt. I'm sure Sylvie will fake some moans if you ever get to tap her ass with your little seven inches."
"Fuck you, Severide!" Matt and I both yell towards him as he laughs loudly, snorting. "Maybe Brett can be the judge of how thick seven inches feel if you ever admit how you feel towards her."
"I have. It's complicated."
"Why is it complicated?" Stella demands, "All Brett wants is commitment."
"Must we do this now, Stella?"
"Why not can you think of a better time?"
"Yeah, when I'm not pissing."
"So you can run and hide, then no, I'm good, Matt. My girl needs commitment, not a tattoo of your damn name on your ass. Just your word that you'll love her, protect her, and put her first no matter who comes back into your life."
"I'm trying to figure out my feelings for Gabby, how to love her without being in love with her; I've never had one without the other. Brett deserves full commitment, not half-ass. That's why I couldn't give her an answer back then; I'm trying to move on. It isn't easy. It takes time. I haven't been in love with any woman since Gabby."
Matt looks up. I connect with his eyes through the mirror, blushing. I turn away so I am not staring at his most private perfect part. I'm impressed and touched by his concern. "Thank you, Matt. I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything Brett, everything I said is true. I want a proper relationship with you. Candlelight dinners, romantic strolls along the beach, sharing secrets, and fears building dreams. I want to make love to you under the stars, not fuck you, Sylvie; but make love to you have the emotional connection with the physical one. I want to help take the pressure off you being a single parent. I'm not trying to take Remington's dad place, but I want him to know he has a man to turn to who is around when he needs one and for him to have peace of mind that his Mama is being treated like the queen she is, by a king worthy of her love."
Zippering up, Matt comes out, washing his hands before he touches my cheek. "I love you, Sylvie; I never lied. I'll need time. Can you give me that?"
"Yes, Matt, I will; I'm sorry, I don't want to rush you. I'll help you in any way I can."
Matt slips his arms around my waist as our eyes connect. I haven't felt this close to him, not since the kiss. My heart stabs hard, my brain racing with two thoughts, please don't kiss me in this dirty restroom, and the other running with Kiss me! Kiss me hard! Kelly comes out watching us laughing as he washes up.
"Aunt Shay! Aunt Hailey, come quick! Uncle Herrman is going to kill Shea! He found out Shea got Annabelle pregnant!"
All of us stare at Sonnet and Savannah as they come racing inside, both of them staring at the guys than shock as if to say what the hell are you doing in here, and why do we want to know. Shay is the first to process the words the girls have shouted with a simple. "Oh shit!" none of us comment, we simply follow, racing out after her. My brain delivers one message the entire time we are running; Shea is fifteen, the same age as Remington. They're best friends, they are only three years younger than I was when I got pregnant with Remington.
My son isn't the shy country child I was, and I still got pregnant.
If he's having sex, I will kill him!
Lyrics to Girls Just Want To Have Fun belong to Cyndi Lauper. Whose point of view should chapter two be in Kelly or Shay's? Any thoughts? Reviews are wonderful fuel to the flame.