The Weekend
Chapter 9
The two sat in silence for what felt like hours. Reba's knee jiggled the entire bed as she nervously bounced her foot up and down. Brock knew she was fretting over their current situation in her head, going over every single detail in her mind until she'd explode. He also knew he had to put a stop to it.
He swung his legs off of the bed and sat next to her. She didn't seem to notice his movement, so he reached over and placed his hand on her knee, stopping the annoying movement. Reba moved the fingernail that she had been chewing on from her mouth and placed her hands into her lap, turning her attention to Brock.
"Honey, you have to stop. Worrying won't fix anything." He gently caressed her thigh with his thumb, wanting nothing more than to soothe the woman he loved.
"That's easier said than done, Brock." She brought her finger back to her mouth and began to chew once again. He rolled his eyes and stood from the bed.
"Give me your hands." He held his out and waited for her to obey. "Come on, I don't have all day."
Reba stared at him stubbornly before finally giving in. He immediately pulled her from the bed and walked her towards the door. "What're you doin', Brock? I'm not in the mood to play your stupid games."
"I'm taking you out. We're going to make the most of our time together and forget about this whole situation for the time being." Reba opened her mouth to talk, but Brock lifted his hand to stop her. "I know, it's easier said than done." He did his best imitation of her southern accent which prompted her to narrow her eyes in his direction. "But that doesn't mean we can't at the very least try, okay?"
He bent his knees so his height matched her own and looked into her eyes with a goofy grin on his face, lifting his eyebrows. "Okay?" He said a little more firmly.
"Fine." Reba tore her hands from his grasp and angrily grabbed her jacket from the table next to her. "But I hope you know I'm not going to enjoy this one bit."
"Ah, now that's the positivity I was hoping for." He followed her out of their room and locked the door behind him. He rolled his eyes when he turned around to see she hadn't waited for him.
Reba had no idea how Brock expected to make this situation any better for her. She was scared and she couldn't help but worry. They had been irresponsible and this was their price to pay. Not to mention the guilt she felt for betraying her best friend. Barbara Jean was looking after her family while Reba was looking after her husband. And not in the way Barbara Jean would've wanted either, that's for sure.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt his hand slide into hers, interlacing their fingers together. Her first instinct was to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.
"People might see us, you mo-ron!"
"What people, Reba? We're not in Houston anymore. Nobody knows us here."
She let herself relax a little. He was right, she didn't like it one bit, but he was right. Even thinking those words left a stale taste on her tongue.
Brock smiled when her shoulders relaxed and she held his hand without hesitation. She was so stubborn sometimes, but he was glad to see her setting that aside for the time being.
"So, what's your big plan, huh? Or are we just going to walk around all day?"
"Have a little faith, Red."
She watched him smile to himself out of the corner of her eye and had to contain her own. If Brock was good at one thing, it was taking her out on dates. Sure, he'd lost this talent towards the end of their marriage, but in college he always outdid himself. And her favourite part wasn't the dates themselves, but the excitement he'd try so desperately to contain leading up to them. It was so sweet and she felt her heart warm at the memory.
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, both smiling to themselves as they enjoyed their surroundings. Reba couldn't believe it, but just being with Brock and holding his hand helped relieve her mind of the worry that had been eating away at her for most of the morning. Being with him, feeling this familiar feeling, erased all of the negative thoughts she had conjured up and replaced them with memories of what once was. It felt like they were in college once again.
They entered the park that had reunited them just days before and they both smiled as they passed by the spot they had kissed. Hard to believe it had started there and grown into something more in a matter of hours.
Reba was lost in her thoughts when suddenly, Brock's hand slipped from her own as he bent down to the ground. She furrowed her brows in confusion until he stood up straight with a smirk on his face and a football in his hands.
"Well, what do yah know? A football. I think someone's trying to tell us a rematch is in order, don't you?"
Reba rolled her eyes at his silliness. "I don't think so, Brock. I'm not really in the mood for that." She started to walk, but stopped when she realized he wasn't following her.
"You're just saying that 'cause you're scared you'll lose." He lifted his eyebrow and waited for her response. He knew just where to hit her to get a rise out of her.
"Brock – "
"No, Reba, don't worry about it. I understand, you don't want to go up against golden god, ruler of all things football. We may have won on the same team, but you know you don't stand a chance against me. I get it." He threw the football into the air a few times, grinning to himself as he watched the anger form on her face.
Reba glared at him and finally let a grin sneak across her lips. She knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. His cockiness was making her angry, angry enough to tackle him to the ground. "Fine, you butt." She walked closer to him, pressing her body into his and holding a firm finger to his chest. "But prepare to get your butt whooped into the ground. There are no kids to keep me in-check this time, honey."
She gave him a sickly-sweet grin and as she walked away from him and out onto the field and he felt his heart walk away with her. There was no question as to why he fell in love with her all those years ago. He smiled and jogged to catch up to her, meeting her in the middle of the grassy field.
"Rock, paper, scissors to see who gets the ball first?" He held it between his arm and his side as he reached his other hand out and held it in a fist.
Reba batted her eyelashes and moved closer to him, all the while giving him a sexy smirk. "We could. Or…" She placed a hand on his chest and licked her lips.
Brock felt a spark fly through his body, his breath stopping in his throat as he watched her tongue move in slow motion over the lips he so adored.
"I could just take it from yah." She ripped the ball from his grasp and began running to the other end of the field. She giggled as she did so and it took Brock a few seconds to regain his composure and understand what was happening. He quickly began running after her.
"Hey! That's not fair!"
"All's fair in love and war, sweetheart."
He wrinkled his forehead and angrily glared at the woman running in front of him. He pushed himself to run faster. Luckily for him, he and Reba were equal in the running department, although she would never admit that and nor would he.
Reba giggled uncontrollably as she was almost at the end of the field. The last time she looked over her shoulder, Brock looked like a tiny action figure, on account of him being so far behind her. She couldn't wait to get the first touchdown and rub it in that big ole tanned face of his.
She heard footsteps next to her and turned to see Brock running beside her, an evil grin on his lips. Before she could push herself harder, she felt his hands snake around her waist from behind and lift her from the ground.
"Hey! Turn me loose!" Reba's arms flailed about and she dropped the football at the sudden change in position.
"Gladly!" He kissed the crook of her neck before letting her go and grabbing the football from the grass. "Kiss this, Red." He shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted away from her.
Anger immediately filled her body at the thought of losing. So, she did what she did best: she ran. Van's words echoed through her ears. Mrs. H, Mrs. H, Mrs. H is the man!
Brock turned around for a split second and saw Reba running directly at him. He turned forward, his eyes wide with fear, and tried to run as fast as possible when suddenly, he felt her body collide with his and before he knew it, he was lying on his back on the grass, Reba lying on top of him.
"Dammit, Reba, I'm old. My back can't take this." Brock closed his eyes and rested his head back against the ground.
"I tried to warn yah, but you wouldn't listen." Reba had a triumphant grin on her face and just as she was about to grab the football and get up, Brock stopped her.
He reached his hand to the side of her face and slowly pulled her lips to his. She looked so happy and so beautiful in that very moment, he couldn't suppress his urge. Her lips moved with his as fireworks went off around them. Brock was quick to flip her over and pin her to the ground underneath him.
Reba smiled against his lips and moaned when she felt his hand slide up the curve of her body. It felt like it had twenty years ago, which caused pain and excitement to pool in her chest. They had the ability to be just like they were back then, if only they had never split up.
She brought her hands to his chest and pushed him away with a giggle. "You better stop kissin' me like that unless you want someone to call the cops."
Brock let out a chuckle and rested his forehead against hers for a moment, his eyes closed. This was how they were always supposed to be. He moved his lips to her forehead and gave her a gentle kiss. "You win." He stood from her body and took her hand, lifting her to her feet.
"I'm sorry, say that again?"
"You win." He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.
"One more time?" Reba's smile reached from ear to ear and he was glad he still had the power to do that. She wrapped her arm around his back and rested her head against his shoulder, waiting for him to say those words one last time.
"I said, you win. But don't get used to it."
"Ah, now that's what I thought you said."
He kissed the top of her head and walked with his arm around her shoulder. He could get used to this.
On the way back from the park, the two stopped into the little bar they had discovered the night before. Reba hadn't realized how much time they had spent goofing around and playing football. Although, she used the term "playing football" loosely as they had spent more time kissing than they did actually playing.
It was almost five o'clock and her stomach wasn't just growling, it was howling.
They sat in a booth next to the bar and immediately ordered their food. All that running took it out of them and much to Brock's surprise, also took Reba's mind off of the problem at hand. They really had no choice but to forget about it. They needed time before they could do anything about it or find out if there even was a problem at all.
After finishing their meal, the two sat in silence and sipped on their beers. People were dancing, laughing, playing pool, and enjoying life all around them and it warmed Reba's heart. All of the bars in Houston were filled with young twentysomethings and it was a nice change to see all of these people around their age having such a great time.
Reba watched as a couple played a game of pool in front of her and got an idea. She turned her eyes towards Brock, blushing when she realized he was already staring at her. She felt the butterflies in her stomach flutter their wings once again.
"What do you say to tryin' to win back your title in a game of pool?" She sipped her beer and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response. She knew he couldn't resist a challenge, especially when she was the one doing the challenging.
"I say…" He chugged the rest of his beer and slammed the mug down on the table. "You're on, babe." Brock walked towards an empty pool table and grabbed two cues, handing one to her with a sly grin on his face. "Why don't you break?"
He was giving her the upper hand, figuring she was just as bad as she had been in college. Little did he know she had learned a thing or two since then and her game had improved. But that was a tidbit of information he didn't need to know. "Aren't you sweet."
Reba bent over the table strategically and lined her cue up with the ball. She closed one eye and focused in on the balls in front of her.
Brock watched as she took her time and readied her shot. He noticed a few men around them staring at her ass as she bent over the table and felt rage fill him to the core. The only person who was allowed to check her out was him. Quickly, she released the cue and broke the triangle of balls, bringing his attention back to the game. His eyes widened when she sunk four balls at once. She hadn't been this good in college.
Reba stood up straight with a grin on her face and blew at the tip of her cue, as if she were cooling it off. She giggled when she noticed his jaw was practically hitting the floor.
"Jack may not have been the one, but he did teach me a thing or two about the game of pool."
Suddenly, Brock had a picture of Jack standing behind Reba teaching her how to play pool properly in the back of his mind and he felt jealousy replace his rage.
No, he wouldn't let her win. "Loser buys the next round of beers." The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them and he had a funny feeling he'd come to regret them.
"Better get out your wallet then, honey." Reba bent over once again and arranged her next shot. Brock rolled his eyes when all of the men turned their attention back to her. If this is how the night was going to go, he was in for a long one.
"Best two out of three. I was just warming up!" Brock whined after Reba had won their first game of pool.
"Well, I wouldn't mind kickin' your butt again, but you owe me a beer." She stood close to him and looked into his eyes. Her face began to move closer to his and Brock felt his breath become heavier at the possibility of a kiss. But before their lips could touch, she reached between them and took the cue from his hands. "I'm waitin'." Her breath was warm on his lips and he felt a shiver pass down his spine. She always had a tendency to tease, even back in their married days.
He walked to the bar and ordered two beers. He watched Reba while he rested his arm on the hardwood counter top. She was chalking the tip of her pool cue and he noticed her teeth clamp down on her lip as she concentrated. She wasn't even trying and yet she was so beautiful. How he had been so blind before, he didn't know.
His heart began to beat faster when he saw a young, attractive man walking towards her. Brock saw the look on his face and knew he wasn't approaching her to just say "hi."
"Hi, there."
Reba turned to see a man standing behind her with a smile spread across his lips and dimples covering his cheeks. She smiled and stopped chalking her cue. "Hi."
"I'm Ryan and you are?" He held out his hand.
She took it and shook. "Reba. I'm Reba." Nerves filled her body, it had been so long since she had dated anyone, let alone had a man flirt with her.
"That's funny, I would've guessed you were gorgeous." He gave her a slick grin and she had to suppress her eye roll. Now she remembered why she had stopped dating.
Brock set the two beers down on the pool table and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, causing Ryan to frown and immediately back away. His message came across loud and clear and Reba turned her smile towards Brock, thankful he had walked up at that very moment.
"Thank you. You should've heard the line he gave me."
Brock just nodded and moved away from her. He felt jealousy boiling inside of him and figured it best not to say a word for, with his track record, he would only end up regretting it.
"I'll break this time."
Once again, Reba won and Brock rolled his eyes at her winning dance. Two beers turned her into, well, him and he didn't like her cockiness.
"Cut it out, woman."
"What's the matter? You can dish it out, but yah can't take it?"
"Exactly." He ran a hand through his blonde hair and chuckled.
Reba snorted at his honesty. "I believe this means you owe me another beer."
"I'm just glad we aren't playing for money."
"Next time." She winked and watched him walk back to the bar. He stood next to a blonde who sat with her brunette friend. She watched as the women looked at him and then snickered to each other.
Only a moment passed by before the blonde was talking to Brock, laughing and smiling as she grabbed his bicep and squeezed. Brock smiled and laughed along with the woman. Reba rolled her eyes. He never could pass up a busty blonde, that's how she got a Barbara Jean.
He walked back over to their pool table and handed Reba her beer. Brock noticed her change in attitude and furrowed his brows together. She had been in a perfectly good mood just moments before.
"What's your problem?"
"You're married. You shouldn't be flirting at the bar like a teenager, Brock." She took a swig of her beer and gave him the glare of all glares.
He turned his attention back to the bar as he tried to decipher what she meant. Why did the women in his life always have to speak in code?
His eyes locked on the women he had just been talking to and it suddenly made sense. He grinned to himself. She was jealous.
"Oh, her? She was flirting with me. I can't help it, honey, I'm irresistible."
Reba scoffed at his cockiness. She hated how he always managed to remind her of how vain he really was.
"Right."
"Besides, that didn't stop you." He leaned into her ear and whispered those words, but he immediately regretted it when she pulled away from him and he saw the look in her eyes. He had hit a sore spot when he had only intended to crack a joke.
"Alright, everyone take your seats. It's karaoke time!" They both turned their heads towards the voice and saw a man standing on the stage at the front of the room. He spoke into the microphone that sat at the centre of the stage and smiled as everyone around them took their seats.
Reba pressed her lips tightly together and walked back to their table. How dare he say that? He knew how guilty she had been feeling and to say something like that? It made anger flow freely inside of her. She wanted nothing more than to yell at him, cuss him out, but instead she sipped her beer and listened to the woman butchering a Shania Twain song.
Brock watched her as she muddled over the words he had said. He could practically see the steam leaking from her ears and felt guilt swarm his chest. He didn't want to mess up a good thing, not so soon.
He leaned into her, wanting nothing more than to fix this thing before it got out of hand. "Reba, I'm s – "
"Alright, who wants the next shot?"
Before Brock could finish what he was saying, Reba chugged the rest of her beer and stood from their booth. She raised her hand. "I will."
"The redhead in the back! Get on up here, pretty lady!"
Brock watched as Reba made it up to the small stage and whispered something into the speaker's ear. Her song choice, presumably. The room was silent as she stood on the stage, all eyes on her, as she waited for the music to play.
He felt his entire body stiffen as the bass guitar radiated around him and he realized what song she had chosen. He slid down in his seat and tried to shield himself from the room and, more importantly, from her.
"You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht. Your hat strategically dipped below one eye. Your scarf, it was apricot."
He listened and watched as Reba belted out the lines to the familiar song. She sounded great, he had to admit, but he didn't like the implication of her song choice.
"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you. You're so vain, I bet you think this song is about you, don't you? Don't you? Don't you?"
He could see the anger in her eyes and slid deeper down into his seat. One hand was in the air and the other held onto the microphone as she sang. Her eyes were glued to him and he felt like everyone was watching him. He gulped as the nerves became too much.
Then, Reba slipped the microphone from its stand and stepped down from this stage. Brock's eyes widened when he realized she was walking towards him as she sang. She stopped when she reached their table and sang directly to him, a grin on her lips knowing full well how embarrassed he was at that very moment.
"You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you. You're so vain, Brock, you probably think this song is about you, don't you?"
Reba batted her eyelashes and turned her back, walking back to the stage. The men and women around her cheered and she finished off the last verse. She slipped the microphone back into the stand and raised her arms into the air, basking in the whistles and applauses she was receiving.
She stepped down from the stage and blew kisses as she walked back their table. She grinned at the blush covering Brock's cheeks and plopped back down in her seat.
"What the hell was that, Reba?" He was quickly becoming aware that he didn't like this version of drunk Reba.
"Thought I'd teach you a lesson or two."
"Well," he stood from the table and placed a fifty down on its surface. "When you feel like acting like the Reba I know and love, I'll be in our room." And just like that, he walked out of the bar.
Reba was floored by his response. She was just having some fun. His words had hurt her and she wanted to make that clear to him. What was the big deal?
She quickly stood and followed him back to their room. When she walked in, she saw Brock sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.
"What the heck, Brock?" She breathed heavily, she had moved too fast.
"I tried to apologize; there was no reason for you to embarrass me like that!" He stood from the bed and pointed his finger in her direction. He was angry and she didn't understand where that anger was coming from.
"I'm sorry! I thought it'd be funny! Honestly, Brock, what is your problem?"
"What is my problem?" He stalked angrily towards her, causing her to back up into the door. "My problem is the fact that I love you. I love you, Reba, but this weekend is going to end. It's going to end and we're going to go home and everything is going to go back to the way it was. Except this time it will be much more painful than it was before because we'll know. We'll know about our wonderful weekend and we'll know about the feelings we both share, but we won't be able to doing anything about it. We'll just have to go back to pretending; pretending not to be in love with each other, pretending to be happy apart. Just as we have for the last seven years, only this time we'll know better."
His words were angry at first, but as he continued to speak, she felt them soften and she realized he wasn't angry at her. He was angry at their situation.
Reba was still pressed between the door and Brock and watched his face as he looked at the ground between them. Her heart broke at the realization that his was, too.
She had tried so hard to forget about their situation, about the awful thing they were doing and the reality they would soon have to return to. She wanted to believe that this was their life, that they were together. She felt foolish now for believing this was their reality. She was caught up in it all and she forget about the truth.
They stood there in silence for a long while, their breath the only sound between them. Brock finally lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He hadn't realized how close he had been to her all of this time. His eyes moved from hers to the lips that sat inches below then.
Before she knew it, his lips were pressing harshly against hers in a heated kiss. His hands ran roughly over her body, her small frame slamming back against the door. Reba quickly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, digging her fingers into his hair, tugging gently as he ground his body against hers.
The air in the room was warm and thick, filled with the passion and the love they shared between them. They made love to each other like they never had before, this time with the proper protection. They touched, they felt, they held onto every single detail for the fear of never being with each other like this again was so strong.
What do you do when the person you're meant to be with is the person you are no longer allowed to have?