Game On

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Game On Page 12

by Collette West


  For some reason, I remember being scared, but not anymore. Hailey's here, and I'll gladly let my body be her lounge chair.

  She plays with the buttons on my Henley but doesn't undo them. She just wants to cuddle or whatever girls call it. I hear the rain pounding on the roof, and there's a crackling fire before us. I don't think I've ever been here before, although it vaguely reminds me of somewhere I can't quite put my finger on. Somewhere old, somewhere foreign—like an inn or something.

  She curls her entire body against my chest, and I can't help but think that we couldn't be more opposite. She's so delicate that I'm able to span the width of her shoulder blades with one hand. But she's strong—a lot stronger than she looks—that fire burning within setting her blue eyes aglow.

  I could be in the worst mood possible, but all she has to do is climb onto my lap and my stress just melts away. I'm filled with joy just being around her, knowing that nothing's worse than not having her with me. I can handle anything life throws at me as long as she's by my side.

  I twirl one of her curls around my finger, zoning out as I gaze into the fire. We match our breathing to each other, inhaling and exhaling at the same time. I sigh contentedly, long and deep, and I feel her lips smile against my jawline. God, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. This is it for me.

  I pull away and really look at her. "I'm sorry," I whisper, a profound sense of regret, forming a lump at the back of my throat. "I'm so sorry, Hailey." I drop my gaze and comb some tendrils of hair that have fallen loose behind her ear.

  "Why are you sorry?" she asks softly, tipping my chin so that my eyes meet hers.

  "I want everything to be perfect. I want it to—" I stop, struggling to express what I want to say.

  "Jilly, shhhhh…" She places her fingers on my lips, staring into my very soul. "It already is perfect…because I'm with you."

  I tremble against her.

  "Just having you here is enough for me." She smiles, resting her hand against my cheek.

  "But I—" I stammer, choking up.

  "You will," she says, turning my face toward hers so I have nowhere else to look but in her eyes.

  "I don't wanna let you down again," I mumble. "I wanna give you what you need from me."

  "Bruce, do you…?" She stops, and her hesitation seems to go on forever. "Do you love me?"

  I nod, looking at her with all the love I have for her.

  She smiles at me again, and this time, it lights up her entire face. "Then that's all I need from you," she says, lowering her head.

  "Do you…?" I ask, unable to finish the question.

  Her eyes dart up as I run my thumb over her chin. "Do you even have to ask?" She tickles my neck with her fingers, and I guide my hands up and down her arms.

  "Just making sure," I respond, letting my thumbs linger along the dip in her neckline. "You know I can't keep my hands off you, right? I just…don't wanna hurt you when—" Concern riddles my brow, but she smooths it away with a kiss.

  "You never could, Bruce."

  All I can do is sigh against the touch of her lips.

  "Practice makes perfect. Isn't that what all you athletes say?" She gives me a saucy wink, and I know then that everything's going to be okay.

  "Yeah, but I think I'm gonna need you to help me work on my stamina." I give her what I hope is a sexy look.

  She chuckles, blushing a little.

  "I wanna learn every noise you make when I touch the places on your body that get you going. I wanna memorize the look I put on your face when you throw back your head, begging me with your last breath not to stop what I'm doing to you," I reply, watching her face turn a highly arousing shade of pink.

  She pouts, her lips full and plump. "Do you know that I spent three hours picking out my underwear for you?"

  "Really?" I ask, laughing.

  "Too much?" She crinkles her brow at me, and it's so fuckin' adorable.

  "Hailey…I'm very appreciative." I kiss the tip of her nose, getting her to smile back at me.

  "I didn't know if…" she trails off.

  "You never have to do anything more for me." I reach down and stroke her face.

  "I just wanna measure up." She holds on to my shoulders, resting her forehead against my chest.

  "Hey…" I say gently, meeting her eyes as she gazes up at me. "I don't want anyone…but you."

  She swallows hard, her smile returning to her face, as she grabs my bicep. I feel the heat of her gaze. Maybe I do want to see that naughty side of her after all.

  But instead, she gets up, and my heart starts to pound when I feel her slipping out of my arms. But even with the glow of the fire, it's too dark to see where she's going. I grope around wildly, but I can't find her.

  "Hailey!" I call out. I can't let her do this. I can't let her leave me. "Hailey!"

  But she doesn't respond.

  ***

  "Mr. Gillette."

  I feel a light shaking of my good arm.

  "Mr. Gillette, wake up."

  I blink, staring into the fluorescent lights above me.

  "Mr. Gillette, do you know where you are?" a young nurse in bright-green scrubs asks.

  And it all comes flooding back.

  That wasn't real. Hailey wasn't with me.

  I want to close my eyes and try to recapture my hallucinated state, but I can't. The nurse is waiting on me for a response.

  "In the hospital," I mumble, trying to wet my lips with my parched tongue.

  "That's right. Very good," she enthuses like she's talking to one of the preschoolers Scott and I read a storybook to. "You came through surgery with flying colors. But I'm gonna wait until the anesthesia wears off completely before I bring you something to eat. But for the time being, I'll get you some ice chips that you can suck on." She smiles down at me pleasantly, giving me what's probably her usual spiel with an added amount of pep because she's talking to Jilly Gillette of the New York Kings.

  "Uh huh," I reply listlessly, not really caring what happens to me now, wishing that Hailey were the one taking care of me and not some stranger.

  "Just don't touch the bandage on your arm. Doctor's orders." Again, a super-wide smile. "Oh, and you had a flower delivery while you were in surgery. Would you like me to read you the card?"

  "Where?" I glance around aimlessly until she points out the mixed arrangement sitting on the windowsill. "Yeah, go ahead. I can't reach it."

  "Of course you can't," she laughs like what I said was the funniest thing in the world. "It's too far away. Let me do the honors." She slides the card out of the tiny, white envelope attached to the plastic holder amid the bouquet. "Get well soon. We're all pulling for you. The Halperts: Gene, Martha"—the nurse pauses, her voice kicking up a notch—"and Hailey."

  I shut my eyes, pretending that I'm not affected by the kind gesture, but that's not what's getting to me. It's that her parents sent them. Hailey didn't. She probably had nothing to do with it.

  A tear slips down my cheek unchecked. Damn it. I'm in a vulnerable state right now; my defenses are weakened. I can't let this nurse see me fall apart.

  "I'll leave you alone for a few minutes," she whispers softly, overcome by my pitiful display. "I'll make sure no one bothers you until I get back."

  "Thank you," I reply, swallowing hard.

  "Is there anyone you'd like me to call? Any friends or family members?" she asks.

  I have no one. No wonder she feels sorry for me.

  "Nah. I'm fine," I respond through clenched teeth. "But some ice chips would be nice." That's my signal for her to get back to work and mind her own damn business.

  "Of course. I'll be right back with them." Her smile is more sympathetic now as she backs out the door, leaving me alone again—just like a loner should be.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hailey

  I'm up early, doing my penance by washing the sink-load of dishes I didn't do last night. I go at a pan, furiously scraping off the melted-on cheese with a scouring brush, thank
ful to have an outlet for my nervous energy.

  Jilly was operated on yesterday, and I didn't sleep a wink last night from not knowing how it went. That's why I've been in the kitchen since the crack of dawn. I was this close to hopping back on a bus and going to see him. I found out online that his orthopedic surgeon only operates at one hospital, so I know exactly where he is.

  But if I make an unannounced visit, it'll only result in chaos. He needs to rest free from any stress my sudden appearance would likely cause. Besides, I don't know if he even wants to see me. It's not like we've spoken to each other since he found out I was R.D. Bukater.

  But maybe it's worth the risk. If I leave now, I can—

  Until a forceful knock at the back door nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

  I shove down my anxiety, getting angry, ready to stand my ground. I might as well give the paparazzi what they want. Fine. Let them get a shot of me with giant frizzball hair and no makeup. See if I care.

  I throw open the door, fully expecting a flash to go off in my face. I'm ready to let them have it—when the words die on my lips.

  Because it's not some ballsy photographer.

  It's my douchey ex-boyfriend, Kurt.

  "See, I knew you were back." He gives me that confident grin he always wears when he knows he's about to get whatever he wants.

  "Wow. You caught me," I say, without emotion. "It still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

  "I came to see you, Hails." Kurt doesn't wait for me to ask him inside, taking my hostile greeting as an open invitation to slip by me. He notices my sudsy hands, which are now dripping all over Mom's squeaky-clean floor. "Christ, Mom and Pops still didn't buy a dishwasher for this place yet?"

  "We can't afford it," I respond, not in the mood to make casual conversation with him.

  "Oh, c'mon. You're friggin' R.D. Bukater, babe. Why don't you buy it for them and save yourself some extra work?" he teases, giving me a quick slap on the ass.

  "Don't," I warn, stepping back. "I'm not yours anymore, Kurt. So keep your hands to yourself."

  "Well, whose are you then, baby? Chase Whitfield's? Brooks Davison's? You sure have a vivid enough imagination when it comes to describing what you'd like to do to them." He leers at me a little. "Wow. If I'd known that's what you were after when we were together, we could've had a lot more fun in the back of my truck, guaranteed."

  "Just because I write about that stuff doesn't mean I want to do it with them," I say through clenched teeth.

  "But what about our old pal, Jilly Gillette?" Kurt leans closer to me—so close that I can almost taste his spearmint gum. "You still have a thing for that big doofus, don't you? And now that he's rich and famous, why not ditch me and jump back into his life like nothing happened?"

  "Jealous?" I provoke him, raising an eyebrow, knowing that Jilly's success is a sore subject for him.

  "If I didn't get injured back in high school, I'd be right there with him and you know it." He puts his hands on my hips. "I had scouts looking at me too over at Mountain Area, and every time we went head to head, I beat him. Every time."

  "That's because Loftus had no offense. If our team had been able to actually score some runs, he would've whooped your ass, guaranteed, just like he's been doing to every team in the American League." My temper flares. Jilly just went through major, life-changing surgery and Kurt's taking cheap shots at him behind his back.

  "He never liked how I'd always single you out, did he?" Kurt muses, stroking his chin. "I remember when he found out that I had asked you to my prom. He threw right at my head the next time I faced him."

  "Yeah, but I didn't go with you, did I?" I smirk up at him, watching his eyes darken.

  "That's right. You were too busy following him around like a little, lost puppy. I remember you were always at every one of his games—rain or shine, home or away—and you'd sit in the bleachers, cheering him on. It was sweet, really. Too bad he didn't appreciate it." Kurt's fingers find the small of my back. "Because I would've known how to thank you properly."

  "He did appreciate it," I speak up, hating how Kurt's making me feel like I have to defend Jilly. "He's just not one to show his emotions. That's all."

  "That's why you got fed up with him, wasn't it? That's why you came to me…why you came for me." He bends down to kiss my lips, but I turn my head.

  "Kurt, it's over. What don't you understand about that?" I whisper, pressing my hands to his chest.

  "Really? Because it doesn't feel like it's over." He caresses the side of my face with the back of his hand.

  Before, I would've closed my eyes and given in to him. But after kissing Jilly, now I know what the real thing feels like, and I won't go back to faking it anymore. I can't pretend that Kurt's the guy I want to be with when he's not. He never was.

  "Well, it is over." I place my fingers on his wrist, getting him to lower his hand.

  He gives me a pained look. "Why are you doing this, Hails? He's not the one who's here. I am, damn it."

  I try to look away, but he draws my face back to him.

  "I've been here, in case you haven't noticed, and I'm not going anywhere. You made your last stand. You went after him. Fine, you gave it one final shot. But when you left New York…he didn't come running after you. Doesn't that tell you something?"

  "He's hurt!" I exclaim, not wanting to buy into what Kurt's saying. "He just got operated on yesterday and—"

  "Yeah, but where was he two days ago and the day before that? Huh?" Kurt rests his forehead against mine, taking a shaky breath before speaking again. "Hailey, I know I would've crawled through fire in order to be with you. Because you're worth it, and if he can't see that, then he's a damn fool who doesn't deserve you."

  "But he's not like you, Kurt," I reply stoically. "Because he'd never cheat on me."

  Kurt rears back, but I don't move. I remain still. I didn't want to be so blunt with him, but he just can't take a hint. We're not getting back together.

  Sure, being in Kurt's arms again feels familiar, but that's about it. That soulful connection I have with Jilly? It's just not here. It never was. I see that now. I was trying to make myself believe in something that didn't exist with Kurt. That's probably why he strayed. I wasn't there for him. Not the way I should've been. I never gave him all of me. I see now that I was holding back the whole time, always keeping that special region of my heart reserved for Jilly.

  "Hails, that was a mistake. How many times do you want me to apologize already? It was a one-time thing that should never have happened, and it won't happen again." Kurt searches my face, still thinking he can persuade me to forgive him.

  "So every time I gotta work and you get drunk at some party with your friends, you just expect me to believe that you're not hooking up with anyone?" I narrow my eyes at Kurt, realizing that a part of me still isn't over his betrayal.

  It shouldn't matter anymore, but it was a blow to my ego. I never loved Kurt, but I remained faithful to him while we were a couple. Or did I? Maybe I was just as bad, cheating on him in my mind whenever I thought or wrote about Jilly.

  "But, Hailey, you hate my friends. You never wanna do the things I wanna do. I end up going to these parties stag with hot chicks falling all over me, so can you blame me if I slipped up?" Kurt shrugs, reminding me again why I'm not sorry I dumped him.

  "Yeah, since we have so much in common. Why not get back together?" I reply sarcastically. "It makes perfect sense, right? But that's not why you're here. You're just dying to get back in the spotlight. Four long years of not being a star high school athlete has to be tough."

  "Hails, I'm not the one who has the National Enquirer staking out my house, okay?" he says, flipping it back on me.

  "But why the sudden interest in me again? I haven't heard from you since we broke up." I needle him.

  "Hey, I thought I was doing you a favor. You were a total outcast, Hails, or don't you remember? With me, you were somebody."

  Whenever I stand up to Kurt, his e
go is always quick to reassert itself.

  "I knew that, even though you didn't dress all sexy and were too shy to flirt, you were into me. I saw how you looked at me whenever I'd glance your way. Hails, you couldn't take your eyes off me."

  "A ripped body only gets you so far," I spit out, realizing that now we're just saying things to hurt each other, and I don't want to cross that line. I don't want to be petty and ugly about this.

  "Once upon a time, you liked my body well enough." He draws me into him again, but I resist.

  "That's not how it was like and you know it." I push him away and turn on the faucet, hoping to drown him out.

  But he just raises his voice instead. "You've wanted to fuck that overgrown man-child for years now, haven't you?"

  I need Kurt to shut up. I can't have my parents hear him talking like this. It's not right.

  "But you know what?" Kurt continues a little more softly once I slow the stream of water coming out of the tap. "He didn't have you first…" he drawls, stepping up behind me, right next to my ear. "I did."

  I freeze. "Stop it, Kurt."

  "He's not coming back for you, Hailey. Not after this." His lips skim down my neck, and I shiver. "So why don't we pick up where we left off? Now that, thanks to R.D. Bukater, we have so much to catch up on."

  I cup a handful of soapy water and throw it at him. He dives away from me with a snarl.

  "What the hell, Hailey?"

  "Get outta here, Kurt. I'm not gonna ask you again."

  He steps forward and splashes some water in my face to even the score, and I sputter angrily.

  "Oops. Did I get you all…wet?" he inquires, lowering his voice to a suggestive tone. He runs his finger down my cheek before sauntering toward the door. I feel the blood rise in my veins when he continues. "Who knew that bland, vanilla Hailey Halpert likes it dirty?"

  My cheeks burn as he pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

  "What did that chick in one of your books say?" He looks up at the ceiling like he's trying to remember the exact words. "Best make-up sex ever?" He gives me the same cocky grin he came in with. "I can't wait."

  "In your dreams, Kurt!" I scream loud enough for him to hear me through the door after he slams it behind him.

 

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