He guides his finger along my face again and again, relaxing me one minute and titillating me the next. I let him do whatever he wants to me. I don't resist. He's too good at this to stop. I could let him go on all night, make me forget everything—like today never happened, like everything since Terry barged in on us at the library never happened, like kissing Kurt at Vinny Wargo's party never happened.
"Hailey," he sighs, cupping my neck in the span of his palm. "Let me climb in there with you."
My eyes flutter open at that, and I see him faintly through the darkness, but I can't tell if he's smiling or not.
"I just wanna hold you," he pleads, his voice all husky and soft. "Let me hold you, Hailey."
He says exactly what I needed to hear, and I scoot over to give him room. To say that this slab of a mattress is microscopic is an understatement since I can't even turn over without the fear of falling out, but somehow, he crams his body in sideways next to mine after untying his shoes with one hand. He places his bulky brace on the outside of the covers, draping the contraption over my hip. And boy, is it heavy, reminding me that this is going to be a lot different from the first time he held me in his arms oh so long ago.
But then I feel the very tips of his fingers find my skin, touching me just like they touched me then, infusing every stroke of his fingers with love in full-out adoration of my body. A tingle runs through me and I shiver against him. The pressure of his fingers increases as he presses me firmly against his chest. A sigh escapes my lips, and he issues what sounds like a cross between a grunt and a groan, nuzzling his nose against my neck. His fingers spread out as far they can along my stomach, and his good hand dives beneath the blanket, enfolding me in his arms.
I tip my head back, my curls brushing his face until my lips skirt along his jaw. I skim them along the strong, masculine line of his face, reveling in his chiseled bone structure, breathing him in. This time, he really does groan when I near his mouth, giving no indication that I'm going to stop what I'm doing once I get there. His hold on my stomach tightens as he strains against me, firmly wedging my backside between his legs. His free hand trails up and under my shirt, the roughness of his skin contrasting sharply with the smooth expanse of my naked back, his hardness combining with my softness.
His hands are all over me, and I bury my face in the pillow, my breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The cold metal of his brace skates directly under my breasts and the change in sensation is maddening when his warm knuckles follow soon after. I can't keep my legs still anymore, digging my heels into his ankles. He utters soothing noises against my ear before lifting one of his legs over both of mine, pinning me facedown on the bed, his injured hand fondling my bare breasts under my shirt.
He can feel my heart drumming inside my chest, and his puffs of breath push stray wisps of curls over my forehead. The pad of his thumb works its way to my nipples, circling, flicking, stroking them until my eyes close and my panting increases.
"Bruce, I can't take it. I'm gonna—" I cry out, tossing my head to the side.
"That's it. Come for me, Hailey," he encourages, his eyes trained on my face. "Because God…I want you to."
Now I remember how I felt that night on the couch, how he can bring me to this point using nothing but his hands. How I wanted him to touch me where he's touching me now and whisper those sweet, sexy words in my ear.
It's better than I ever imagined possible, surpassing any fantasy I had about him doing this to me. It's like he's all around me—his heavy breathing filling the darkness, his masculine scent a mixture of motor oil and spicy aftershave, his strong, hard body pressed against my spine as his deft fingers have their way with me, taunting me to try to hold on when he's already pushed me so far over the edge.
It's too much and I explode into a million pieces all around him, crying out his name—his real name.
He gently places me on my side, and I slowly come back down to Earth, his good hand trailing across my glistening shoulders and down my body. He holds me until my breathing returns to normal, that magic thumb of his encased in the brace now delving in and out of my belly button.
I'm so relaxed that all I want to do is fall asleep in his arms. But I have to let him know what's on my mind first. I owe him that after what he just did to make me feel this good.
"That's all I ever wanted from you, Bruce," I say drowsily.
"And I'll never forget one single moment of that," he mutters, his voice taking on a dreamlike quality. "Ever."
I keep talking, not even aware of what I'm saying at this point. "And I don't care if you just came from Beth Altell's stupid party or if you're still in love with Sasha Roberts."
"What?" he asks, snapping back to full alertness.
"It's okay," I murmur, fighting the urge to sleep that's pulling me under. "I made a lot of mistakes too."
"What are you saying?" A new type of urgency creeps into his tone. "That I don't love you? That I just experienced the most amazing night of my entire life, watching your face just now, and you think I'm in love with Sasha Roberts?"
"Don't lie," I protest feebly. "I saw you kiss her today."
"What? How?" he demands.
"I came over to Rick's to talk to you," I reply. "And I saw you through the window."
"Yeah, but did you also see that I kissed her on top of the head? Nothing like what I just did to you—what I'll only ever do to you," he whispers so ardently that there's no denying the truth behind what he's telling me. I feel it deep within my heart.
"Then why…?" I utter, grasping for words.
"Because she came here to tell me to stop being an idiot and go after you," he says, nestling his chin on my shoulder.
"She did?" I ask in disbelief.
"Yeah," he says, giving me hope for the first time that this might all work itself out and I won't have to concede any part of him to Sasha.
"And she kissed you because…" I trail off.
"Jeez. You really saw everything, didn't you?" he chides me, finding that ticklish spot under my rib cage.
"Jilly, don't!" I squeal, squirming against him.
"She kissed me like she's only ever seen me—as a friend," he confirms, stilling his hand for the moment. "She's only ever been and will be in love with Brooks, just like I've only ever been and will be in love"—he swallows before continuing—with you."
I take some short, shaky breaths, feeling the warmth of his hand as it rises and falls with every attempt to slow my heart, which is beating out of control.
"Tell me," I demand, refusing to soften toward his advances just yet. "Were you at Beth's party or not?"
"There you go again." He removes his brace from my body, lifting it high in the air. "Hailey, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. What party?"
"You weren't there tonight? You didn't go there with Rick?" I pummel him with questions, determined to get to the bottom of this.
"Rick passed out on the couch about an hour ago playing Call of Duty. We didn't go anywhere tonight. Honest." He lowers his brace back onto me again. "We never go anywhere when I'm here. Just that one night we went to Lenny's and that turned into a disaster when Kurt—"
I pick up my head to look at him.
"Ah, so that got your attention, huh?" Jilly asks, and I mentally kick myself for my knee-jerk reaction at hearing Kurt's name.
"What happened?" I hope he'll tell me and I won't have to pry it out of him.
"We got into a little scuffle. Nothing major." He fluffs it off like it's no big deal.
"Why in the world did you get into a fight with that douchebag when you just got operated on? Are you crazy?" I sit up in bed, ready to scold him.
His brown eyes catch the glow of the nightlight and twinkle up at me. "You really think he's a douche?"
"I always did," I mumble, dropping my head. "I never loved him. I've only loved you."
His gaze takes on a smoldering quality when I finally speak the words he's been waiting to hear. His full lips break
into a dazzling smile like I've just made him the happiest guy on Earth. I've never had anyone look at me the way he's looking at me now.
"I chucked a table at him," he deadpans, making me laugh.
"Oh, is that all?" I counter. "I thought you'd hurl him through a brick wall at the first opportunity."
"I wanted to. Maybe next time, when I'm feeling better," he jokes, his eyes shining in merriment.
"I should have waited for you," I lament, wishing I could change the past.
He looks away, taking both of my hands tenderly in his large one. "We're together now. That's all that matters."
"I can't believe we never tried this in high school," I chuckle. "We used to spend hour upon hour down here alone and my parents never even checked on us. Boy, did they ever trust you."
"I think they were just too busy to remember I was down here with you." He gives me a wry grin. "Besides, it's not like I never thought about it."
"You know what? That's all I could ever think about when you were down here with me," I admit, pulling my hands out of his grasp and covering my face with them.
"Talk about raging hormones." He tickles me again until I collapse against him.
"What are we gonna do, Jilly?" I recline into him, feeling myself relax even though we still have so much to figure out.
"Here's what's gonna happen. Tomorrow, I gotta go to the stadium and meet with my doctor, but after that, I'll start my rehab and you'll keep writing, and the rest of the world will just have to deal with it, because from this point forward, I'm all yours," he says, sounding like he's about ready to drift off too.
"Okay," I whisper more to myself than to him.
He's on the verge of falling asleep in my bed, but he has no idea that, earlier today, I published a new book featuring him as the main character, and I can't take it back now. It's out there, and I don't know how he's going to react when he finds out.
I close my eyes, knowing that I won't be getting any sleep tonight while he's snoring peacefully beside me, unaware of the havoc I might've unleashed with one little click.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jilly
It sucks big time that I had to sneak out of Hailey's bed without getting a chance to say goodbye.
Her parents always get up super early to start preparing for the day ahead, and I knew I needed to slip out of there before they caught me with their daughter. They're cool, but they're not that cool. Besides, I wouldn't want to disrespect them like that. They've been nothing but supportive of me through the years.
Before I left for Kings Stadium, I kissed my way down Hailey's neck. Her mouth twitched in her sleep, but it wasn't enough to wake her. I'm bummed that she's going to think I just abandoned ship after the incredible night we spent together. I would've left a note, but in the dark, I could barely find my way back up the steps, never mind a pen and paper. I should call her now and let her know the results of my first post-surgery exam.
Man, am I glad that's over with. I only have to wear the brace for one more week. The doc gave me a soft, squishy ball to squeeze in my hand until I'm able to start my range-of-motion and strengthening exercises later in the month. It's encouraging to hear that things are moving along like they should.
I still don't know how Terry talked a world-class surgeon into leaving the hospital in order to come take a look at me. I guess he wanted to make sure I kept my appointment this time, dragging my ass back to the stadium so he could keep an eye on things. Terry was there. Arnold Heimlich the third, one of the owner's sons, was there. Yeah, it got pretty intense.
I thought for sure that Terry was going to ask me where I've been, but he didn't. In fact, he never spoke to me directly. He addressed all of his questions to the doctor or Liam, who was the only one who actually looked happy to see me back. Terry didn't mention Hailey, and I didn't wait around for him to ask. Instead, I hightailed it out of the trainer's room.
Now, I only hope I can get out of here before I run into any of my teammates. It's early yet, not even noon. The only one who's usually around at this hour is Tony, and he's probably in the manager's office, watching video of last night's game and figuring out tonight's starting lineup. Sometimes, I think he lives here.
I stride briskly down the hall, looking over my shoulder when I collide with the guy I most wanted to avoid.
Drake Schultz greets me with a shove. "Well, look who it is. The fucking traitor."
"Go to hell," I mutter, stumbling backward in attempt to regain my footing.
"I'd watch how you talk to me, considering I have pending litigation against your little girlfriend." His eyes take on a determined fierceness, like he wants to rip me apart limb by injured limb. "Get ready because I'm about to sue her for everything she has and then some."
"And where will that get you, huh? Add a couple more thousand to your already bloated bank account?" I shake my head in disgust. "Drake, you're already the highest paid player in baseball. Isn't that enough for you, or do you take some kind of sick pleasure in mowing down anyone who dares to tell the truth about you?"
"Tell yourself whatever you want, but I'm going after her for tarnishing my name." He flexes his arms across his New York Kings workout tee, thinking he can intimidate me by showing off his guns even though he has to look up at me to do it.
"Your name was already tarnished"—my lip curls up in distaste—"when you couldn't keep it in your pants."
"You don't know shit about my marriage," Drake snarls back, indicating that I clearly hit a nerve. "Or anything about went down between me and my ex-wife."
"Hey, man." I hold up my good hand. "I'm not the one who got caught cheating. You were."
He places both hands on my chest, pushing me up against the wall. "You think life is so easy, don't you? That everything always falls into place like it's supposed to. But life doesn't work that way."
I try to walk away from him, but he won't let go. "Stay away from Hailey. Because if you make her life difficult in any way, you'll be dealing with me, and I don't think Terry will appreciate his clubhouse being torn apart by a self-absorbed jerk like you."
He tightens his grip on my shirt. "Why don't you shut that mouth of yours? Considering now that you can't pitch, keeping quiet is about the only thing you're still good at." He knees me in the stomach, and I double over. "That's for busting my lip in front of the team." The toe of his cleat digs into the small of my back, knocking me over. "And that's for thinking you could tell me what to do."
I never thought Drake could take me down, but he's fighting dirty. I can tell that he's been waiting to do this for a long time—corner me, get me alone, take advantage of my injury. It's like we're in a street brawl in the bowels of Kings Stadium. Somehow, he knew I was coming here today, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. But what kind of thug is he? What guy in his right mind fucking acts like this?
"And let me tell you, Gillette, where I come from, we don't forget a slight. That girl of yours was warned, and she didn't listen. Now, she's gonna pay the price for her disobedience. There's gonna be retribution for what she did to me. Tit for tat."
Drake's arm flies up like he means to backhand me across the face, but I manage to block him before he can hit me, stopping his forward momentum and throwing him off balance. I swing out my legs, knocking him off his feet, and he crashes onto the floor next to me.
"You son of a bitch!" Drake roars as we continue to tussle on the ground and I do my best to protect my arm, holding my brace above my head.
I've wanted to whoop Drake's ass ever since I joined the team. I think every guy on the Kings would like to have a go at him, so I go full out, grabbing the collar of his shirt and ripping it down the middle. He takes a fistful of my hair, no doubt getting back at me for what I did to him in the shower room, and pulls a clump of it out. I blink back tears, struggling to stay on top of him as he rams his foot into my chest. I turn my head just in time when he tries to jam his fingers in my eyes. I need to get up. I have to stop this before he
does something we both regret.
"Drake, enough!" I bellow, afraid of the type of frenzy he's worked himself into. It's like he flipped a switch and the rational, snarky side of him was replaced with a bloodthirsty lunatic. He wants to hurt me. No, permanently disable me is more like it.
I find the waistband of his shorts with my good hand and hurl him off me. He hits the wall hard and goes still. I stagger to my feet, keeping an eye on him the whole time. I must've really knocked the wind out of him because it takes a few seconds before he starts choking and gasping for air. I watch him roll over onto his back as he tries to catch his breath, his shirt hanging off him in pieces.
"Don't you ever fuckin' try something like that again," I spit at him. "Or I swear to God, I'll press charges for assault. You're fuckin' messed up, dude. Big time."
I'm wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, ready to leave him there, when he calls out from the ground, "Tell me, Jilly. Do you really repair Harleys in the off-season?"
"What?" I growl, annoyed that he's asking me such a stupid question.
"Do you?" he persists, making me think he hit his head harder than I thought.
"For fuck's sake," I groan, bending at the waist. "Yeah…why?"
He smiles, his eyes taking on a glassy look. "Then you're not a complete shithead."
"Dude, you're outta your mind." I back away from him. "And you'd better hope that you didn't just fuck up my arm."
Drake starts laughing, flat on his back, not even bothering to get up off the floor. "They baby you pitchers so much. You think your whole life is on the line because I just schooled your ass? You have no idea what it means to be in harm's way, do you? I didn't even touch your arm."
"Are you serious?" I advance toward him again, my temper flaring. "I just came from seeing the doctor and—"
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