She pulled into the curved driveway and turned off the engine. Xavier snored softly and she considered giving herself a few more minutes of peace before waking the monster. She sighed as he snuffled. She couldn’t stall any longer.
Opening the door, she stepped out into the warm afternoon and went around to tug open his door. He looked so peaceful, his head bent back, his mouth hanging slightly open. She’d never realized how muscular his neck was. His face, relaxed in sleep, warmed her heart. He almost appeared innocent. She felt bad his solace wasn’t going to last.
At least she wouldn’t be around for his misery.
“Xavier?” She shook him gently. “X. We’re here.”
“Huh?” came his groggy reply. One hazel eye cracked open and he grinned crookedly. “Hey, sweet thang, I know you.”
“I know you, too.” She reached across to release his seatbelt and he rubbed her ass.
“Nice.” He growled low in his throat. “Just like I knew it’d be.”
“Come on, lover boy. Let’s get you settled inside.”
A white sling secured his arm tightly to his torso, making movement of his shoulder impossible. The immobility irritated him if the scowl was any indication. He shifted and moved, looking a bit like a beached whale, but couldn’t get momentum to get out by himself. She took his hand and helped him out of the car.
When he stumbled, she silently wished for a wheelchair. He flopped his left arm over her shoulders and tucked her against his body. Despite his current state of loopy, she allowed him to guide her toward the front door.
He nudged a rock with the tip of his flip-flop. “Key’s in there.”
“Um, X … that’s a rock.”
His laugh cracked louder than thunder. “For bein’ a doctor, you’re not very smart.” Before she could get offended, he laughed again. “It’s not a real rock, Doc. Trust me. Can you grab it? I’d get it myself, but I’m afraid I’d face plant.”
“Now look who’s talking like a rocket scientist.” She kept a hand on his waist while she fetched the rock in an attempt to humor him. But then she picked it up. It wasn’t very heavy. What the—? She turned it over in her hand and noticed the fake bottom. She slid it away with her thumb and viola! a key.
“Told ya.” He laughed again.
Inside, she stood in the entry and look around. His place was pretty close to what she’d expected. Wood floors were polished. A dark brown leather couch sat against the wall with an enormous flat screen taking up the opposing one with a coffee table in between.
Beyond the living room, Frankie saw a high, dark wood table with four matching chairs. Hallways branched out in different directions, but with no bedroom in sight, she worried the elaborate staircase meant Xavier would be making the hike.
He closed the door and wobbled.
“Easy there, big guy.” She held him until he steadied. “Let’s get you in bed. X, where’s the bedroom?”
He jerked his head toward the stairs. “Whoa! The room’s spinning. This is better than the teacups at Disneyland.”
“Come on, Cinderella.” She led him up the stairs and he didn’t complain about her assistance. Or claim he didn’t need her. Shouldering his two-hundred plus pounds wasn’t easy, but Frankie managed to get him to the top of the staircase.
Three open doors greeted them, a bedroom down a short hallway on the left, bathroom almost directly in front of them, and another bedroom on the right with another hallway off to the right. He started toward the bedroom on the right and she followed.
The enormous four-poster bed dominated the room, warring with the equally impressive dresser. Obviously Xavier liked pillows, since the bed had so many the black comforter barely peaked out from beneath them. A cream-colored rug contrasted beautifully with the dark walnut floors.
He stumbled to the side of the bed and kicked his flip-flops off. When he reached for his sweatpants, Frankie stopped him. Or tried to. And she’d never been so happy to see a pair of boxer-briefs in her life.
She yanked the comforter back, sending pillows flying. “That’s it. Slide in.”
He obeyed, struggling to get settled. He leaned back against the pillows and sighed. Then he sat up, huffed, groaned and plucked at his t-shirt. “This has got to go. I’ll never be able to sleep wearin’ this damn thing.”
“Xavier, the only way that’s coming off is to cut it off.”
“Then get the scissors.” He pointed toward the doorway. “Downstairs in the kitchen, drawer under the microwave.”
“Fine. I’ll be right back.” She headed for the door, but paused. Pointing a finger at him, she ordered, “Do not move. Not an inch, X. I mean it.”
With sloppy left-handed motions, he made an X over his heart. “I promise, Doc.”
She returned from the kitchen, scissors in hand, as quickly as she could. Even though he’d promised, she flew down the stairs and came back up by taking three steps at a time. He was out cold when she raced into his room, brandishing the scissors like a sword.
Her heart softened a bit in that moment. With his hair standing on end, each strand waving to the next, he looked more like a little boy than a grown man, and she wanted to take him in her arms and snuggle him. Instead she sank down into the leather recliner by the window and waited until he woke up. As soon as he did, she could find out who he’d lined up to take care of him, hand off his care and get back to her life.
***
“What do you mean you don’t have anybody to take care of you?” The question was simple enough, but the slight edge of hysteria in Frankie’s voice made Xavier want to laugh.
So he did. Which made her glare at him.
“I’m a big boy, Doc. I can take care of myself.”
“No. You can’t.”
“Oh, please. I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen years old.” Her brows pinched and he realized he’d given out information he hadn’t meant to divulge. Ever. “Really, Doc. I’ll be okay.”
She cursed and tugged her phone out of her back pocket. She swiped her finger across the screen, jabbed at it then held the phone up to her ear.
Her, “Hey,” introduced a whole bunch of “Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah.” until she finished with, “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”
Xavier’s head felt like a lead balloon, all floaty and unattached, yet too heavy to hold upright. His melon met the headboard with a thunk! Instead of clearing his thoughts, though, it muddled them even more. He couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing for longer than a few seconds.
She none-too-carefully pressed the screen of her Android then lifted it to her ear again. “Hey, Chris.”
Xavier tried to keep his eyes open, tried to prove he didn’t need her help. Yes, he was a total badass. The thought crossed his mind just as his lids closed. His brain did a shut down, too, but he managed to make out her one-sided convo. Would he remember it, though? He seriously doubted it.
“No, I don’t need you to come stay with me. I’ll be fine.” She laughed. “You’re such a dork! Of course you can trust me. Just bring me a couple changes of clothes. My overnight bag is already packed with what I’ll need. No, I don’t need condoms, smartass!”
Xavier smiled. Or did on the inside, since his body wasn’t listening to his mental commands.
Frankie rattled off the address. “You’ll need to call when you get here and I’ll buzz you through the gate. Uh-huh. Okay, thanks. See you in a few.”
Xavier heard another set of beeps, then a gentle, “Hi, Mom. You okay? I’m not gonna be around for a couple days.” She went on a whole diatribe with regards to Xavier’s stupidity, his lack of planning, and her responsibility to rehabilitate him. “Chris’ll be coming to stay with you. I know. Just in case. I’d feel better if—” She sighed. “Well, I’ve already made the call, so you can take it up with—” Deep breath in. Breath out in a gust. “Mom, please. Thank you. I love you.”
Xavier hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. And through the fuzzy brain syndrome, he wasn’t su
re what had jerked him out of the unconscious bliss. Until he heard Frankie’s voice from downstairs.
“Hey.”
A male voice answered. She laughed. Xavier seethed.
Must be the drugs.
She was his doctor. Not even his doctor, per se. She was a doctor. The team’s doctor. The entire team. She was nothing to Xavier.
He hadn’t realized how good the acoustics were in his stairwell. It was like a funnel from the entryway to his bedroom.
“I really appreciate you bringing this stuff by.”
“I don’t like this, Frank.”
“Live with it. It’s my job.”
The answering huff echoed from wall to wall, bouncing its way right into Xavier’s bedroom. “I’m not gonna change your mind, am I?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, well, call me if you need anything.”
“Will do. Thanks, Chris.”
“Love you, Frank.”
The door closed. The near slam was amplified, too. Xavier wondered what sex would sound like on the stairway. He would have made a mental note if he thought there was any chance of remembering it.
He heard the shuffle of footsteps and managed to crack his eyelids to see Frankie standing in the doorway. She smiled at his attempt at awake.
“How you feelin’?”
“Fine.” He sounded like a frog. Ribbet!
“That’s good.” She held up a black duffle bag. “I’m moving into your guest room.”
His lids flew open. Somewhere amongst the cobwebs and cottonballs in his brain he thought he’d heard something about that.
“What?”
She dropped the duffle and walked into the room, parking her hip on the edge of his bed. “X, you can’t take care of yourself. I know you think you can, but you’ll change your mind. And then it’ll be too late. I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’ll be okay.”
“It’s all about you, huh?” He felt the scowl pulling at his lips and the deep frown between his brows. “Don’t I need a nurse or somethin’? Ya know, one of them that specialize in home care.”
Wow, he’d spewed a lot of coherent sentences. He was kinda impressed with himself.
Her eyes squinted. Her lips pursed. Her nostrils flared a bit with an exaggerated exhale. “Let me try to piece together what you’re asking.”
What? He’d been very specific with his questions.
“I’m going to make sure you get the best care possible until you can do it on your own. I’m licensed in Home Health Care, so that’s not an issue. My mom—” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter in this conversation.”
He wanted to know more about her mom and made another mental note he probably wouldn’t remember when he needed to. Whatever. There were more important questions.
“How long?”
“I don’t know exactly. A week. Two. Maybe three.” She laughed and pressed her fingertips to his forehead. “You shouldn’t scowl so much, Xavier. You’ll end up with wrinkles.”
He managed an eyeroll. At least he thought he did. Her laugh made him wonder.
“You get some more sleep. I’ll make myself at home.”
Before he could tell her yet again he didn’t need her, she’d picked up her duffle, sashayed out the door, and disappeared into his house.
4
It’d been a long, boring day. Frankie had told Xavier she would make herself at home, but she wasn’t comfortable in his house. She’d imposed herself into his personal space.
Out of necessity, she told herself, to which she vehemently agreed.
Xavier needed somebody to take care of him. Lucky her.
She considered changing out of her scrubs, getting comfortable in her tank and panties, but if Xavier needed her in the middle of the night, she couldn’t very well go running in there half naked.
She slid between the sheets. The very soft sheets. Pleasure engulfed her. She rubbed a hand over the mattress. The thread count had to be off the charts. Nice. Very nice.
She could get used to this kind of comfort. When she got home, she’d have to get herself a set just like these.
A curse and crash had her out of bed and on her feet in a flash. She raced barefoot down the hall, the raging expletives guiding her.
She skidded to a stop just inside his door.
Tears dripped off Xavier’s chin. His eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in agony. Using his left hand, he cradled his right arm, rocking back and forth. He gritted his teeth, twisting each curse word into a violent hiss.
“Xavier?”
His eyes flipped open so fast they reminded her of the flipping blinds in old Tom & Jerry cartoons. He sniffed and wiped at his nose and cheeks with the back of his good hand. His jaw jumped and he narrowed his eyes, hatred crackling in the air between them.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m here to take care of you. Don’t you remember?”
“I don’t remember shit, Doc.” He tried to settle himself only to grunt and not get much accomplished. “Will you leave so I can suffer alone?” When she didn’t move, he tacked on a “Please,” that broke her heart.
Instead of doing as he asked, she walked right up to the bed. She’d dealt with pissed off athletes before. Xavier wouldn’t be any different.
“What’s your problem?” he snapped, waving a hand as if she were a bug that needed shooing. “I don’t need an audience.”
She notched her chin a bit higher and took a steadying breath. “No, but you need a doctor. And I’m the best you’ve got. So suck it up. Neither of us want me to be here.”
“You’re not a nurse, Doc.” Now he was going to try reasoning with her? “Playing nurse-maid is way below your qualifications.”
“Actually—” She didn’t want to broach this topic again. Especially since he might remember it this time. “—I have a license to offer Home Health Care.”
Instead of questioning her, he rolled his eyes. “How frickin’ perfect.”
“Yes, it is since you didn’t think to make arrangements for anyone to—” She halted her tirade when he hissed. “Let’s get you some meds.”
“That’s not what I need.” He struggled to get out of the bed.
“What are you doing?” She hurried over to help him.
“I need to piss. Really bad. You willing to help me with that?”
“If needs be.”
He smiled tightly. “Get me to the bathroom and I can take care of things.”
Her relief must have been plastered all over her face because he took one look at her expression and laughed. Then grabbed at his shoulder.
“Everything makes it hurt.”
She helped him out of the bed, got him upright, and wedged herself under his armpit. At the bathroom door, she paused. “If you need any help, just holler. I’ll come right in.”
He burst out in a harsh, mocking bark of a laugh. “Like having you rush in to find me sprawled on the tile is my idea of fun.”
“Maybe we should leave the door open.”
“No.” No argument in that shut down. “If I need you, I’ll holler.” The determination in his eyes said otherwise.
She considered challenging him, but didn’t really feel like cleaning urine off the floor. He was stubborn enough to piss down both legs rather than leave the door open.
He held onto the jamb and waited for her to retreat. She backed up to the bed and plopped down, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’ll be right here if—”
“I won’t need you, Doc. I’ll be fine.”
***
Xavier wasn’t fine. He was as far from fine as a guy could possibly get. Truth be told, he was a complete frickin’ mess.
He couldn’t believe he’d cried—actually shed tears—in front of Frankie. Good hell, he wasn’t a girl! He was a man!
And men did not cry. Ever.
Yet another fact drilled into his head by his father. He’d called the bastard a sonofabitch until he realized the
title reflected badly on his beloved grandmother.
Xavier shook his head and everything around him spun. Reaching out, he gripped the counter and closed his eyes. One breath. Two. And his thoughts cleared enough to enable him to make the two foot journey to the commode. A yank of the waistband on his boxer-briefs sent the cotton to the floor. He let go of the counter to position himself and swayed. A hurried, spin and an uncoordinated squat brought his ass in contact with the cool seat.
Maybe he was turning into a girl after all. First, tears. Now, taking a piss sitting down. Add to that his bum arm and the fact he couldn’t throw a ball. Yeah, his father was probably laughing his ass off in hell.
A soft knock preceded the whispered, “Xavier, you okay?”
“Fine.” The muttered curse through gritted teeth offered the surge in testosterone needed to get himself upright. Well, mostly upright.
His hip slammed into the corner of the counter, sending pain shooting up the left side of his body. This time the curse crossing his lips was vile, four-lettered, drawn out, and had exactly nothing to do with the activity he was failing miserably at.
The door burst open. Frankie’s face registered a whole lot of worry, but it was the pity in her blue eyes that made him want to chuck something at her.
“Get out! Get the hell out!”
With a swipe of his hand, he gripped the shower curtain and yanked the thing off its pole. Fancy black rings did the hula around the rod before finally ping-ping-pinging it into the bathtub.
He wrapped the cold plastic around his hips and glared at his doctor. “I said I was fine.”
“You say a lot of things.” Her blond brows pinched in the center, her eyes conveying just how much she didn’t care for his attitude.
Out of Left Field Page 3