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Inside Game

Page 7

by Collette West

She nervously licks her lips, and I can't look away. They seem so pillow-soft. I imagine what it would feel like to have her run them down my chest—and I'm talking all the way down.

  I can barely get out of bed, yet with one flick of her tongue, she has me fantasizing about all the things I could do to her alone on my island. But first, I have to get back on my feet, and being out in the fresh air and sunshine is the quickest means to achieving that end.

  "I'll get better faster, spending time outdoors. I know I will," I say, prodding her.

  "And you won't do anything stupid like try to swim to Cuba?" she grumbles.

  "I probably wouldn't make it past the first wave." I'm not one for making light of my shortcomings, but I'll do it to get my way.

  The fire in her eyes travels straight through my veins, making my heart throb within me. All she does is work. She deserves to get whisked away somewhere. I want to take her away from the ugliness she deals with day in and day out. For some reason, I have this undeniable urge to make her happy.

  "Okay, let me run it by Diane. All she can say is no." Eva gets up from the table, pursing her lips.

  I watch as she reaches for her phone to make the call, knowing how important this could be to my recovery.

  But really, I'm doing this for a purely selfish reason—I want to get her out of New York so I can have her all to myself.

  Chapter Ten

  Eva

  "I can't believe this!" Drake seethes with a surly look on his face.

  "You need to see your daughters before you go." I watch him pace back and forth in the lobby of the Roosevelt Building while we wait for them to arrive. "And I'm afraid Karolina didn't agree to much more than that."

  "Why didn't you tell me you set this up with her last week instead of springing it on me now?" Drake snarls, his shoulders tense.

  I remain perfectly still, following him with my eyes while he continues to expend all of his nervous energy. "Because you weren't strong enough to handle it then."

  "And I am now?" He comes to a complete halt, pinning me with his stormy gaze.

  "Yes."

  He nods, seemingly pleased with my complimenting his progress. Physically, he's better, but his nerves are still fried. His body's looking for the high it's used to getting, and not just from cocaine. He's a professional athlete accustomed to the rush that comes with taking the field every night. He feeds off the energy of the crowd. Now, he has nothing to substitute that with. He's still adjusting, coming down off the pedestal he's been on for so long, learning to live without the buzz of tens of thousands of people screaming his name. He'll come to see that playing the part of the loud, rowdy jock doesn't quite work without the nightly adulation to back it up. His sins aren't so easily overlooked now that he's no longer out there scoring runs for the home team.

  His frown deepens. "Well, be prepared, because Karolina's a real bitch. Don't say I didn't warn you."

  "Don't worry. She already gave me quite an earful," I admit, failing to hide my grimace.

  "Why? What did she say about me?" His tone is fierce, and I feel a chill run through my body even though his anger isn't being directed at me.

  His volatility is the major wildcard to his recovery, and Karolina seems to always trigger it. Chase mentioned her once—and Drake went off on him. His aversion to her has to be addressed at some point. He can't go forward until he faces his past, and his ex-wife is a major part of it.

  I tilt my head to the side. "Did you really give your kids a hundred-dollar bill and tell them to get lost?"

  He groans, sweeping his hand through his hair. "That's not what happened, okay?" He stops moving and looks me in the eye. "It was my weekend to have them, and I just got back from a West Coast road trip. I was jet-lagged, and I just needed to crash for a couple of hours."

  I cross my arms over my chest. "So you told two little girls under ten to walk to the nearest McDonald's by themselves?"

  "They were hungry." He shrugs. "I didn't know what else to do. It wasn't that far."

  I exhale loudly through my nose. "That's not the point, Drake. You can't just let your kids wander around Manhattan. I can see why Karolina was able to strip you of your visitation rights."

  When I talked to Karolina earlier, I let her vent without adding in any of my personal judgments, because after having listened to her for half a minute, I realized she had a right to be upset. Drake had been completely irresponsible by giving them that much freedom.

  "But she got the judge to turn against me," he argues. "She twisted their words so it sounded like I didn't want to spend time with them, like I got rid of them."

  "Well, did you?"

  "No, of course not. I'm not the greatest dad in the world, but I never thought they'd go walking around Times Square!" He lets out a long sigh and comes to stand against the wall with me. "When I woke up a few hours later and they weren't back yet, I knew I'd made a huge mistake. They'd posted pictures on Instagram, and their mother quickly figured out they were in Hershey's Chocolate World without me."

  "Karolina's concerns are valid, Drake."

  He leans his head back and closes his eyes, not wanting to hear it.

  "Remember that list we talked about?" I look over at him.

  He opens one eye. "My list of amends. What about it?"

  "Your daughters need to be at the top of that list," I respond, watching him swallow hard.

  "But not Karolina," he states emphatically. "She's already getting enough of my money from the divorce—alimony, child support, you name it. The woman's bled me dry. She doesn't need an apology too."

  "That's completely up to you, but your girls are a different story. They need you." I take a deep breath before continuing. "I…" I take a moment and try again. "I…never knew who my real father was."

  Drake's eyes pop open at that, and he angles his body to face me.

  "I don't even know his name or if he's still alive. He could be anyone from a shady, two-bit pimp to a tycoon down on Wall Street." I chuckle to ease the tension in his stare, but he doesn't laugh along with me. "Karolina's offering you an opportunity here. Please don't let your animosity for her get in the way of making a fresh start with your girls."

  "And what about you?" he questions.

  "What about me?"

  "Who gives you your answers?" His eyes are ablaze, alive with a fire I haven't seen before.

  I still don't know how this whole working relationship thing with Drake is supposed to work. He's been more considerate of my feelings lately, like he feels guilty that he's monopolizing my life. He's definitely changed since I nursed him through his detox. He's more pensive, less combative, not as sullen and standoffish. But the biggest difference is that he's not so consumed with himself. He picks up on my moods now. He's aware of what I'm going through, too.

  It's sweet, but so far, it's been more of a buddy-buddy thing. Like we're both on our bellies in the trenches, crawling until we find our way out. It's nice that he's taking his recovery so seriously and partnering with me on all the steps he needs to take. But it still feels like he's holding a part of himself back. And I don't know if he's trying to hide things from me, or if it's simply such a struggle for him to remain sober that he feels the need to shut down that passionate, vibrant side of himself most of the time.

  Well, until now, that is.

  "Eva? Is that you?"

  My spine stiffens when I see Karolina enter the lobby with the two girls.

  Drake whips his head around, his brow creasing at hearing her voice.

  "Yes…yes, it is." I move forward to greet her, trying not to notice how Drake freezes beside me. "Thanks for coming."

  The girls hang back, unsure of what to do. They exchange a look with each other before reluctantly shuffling toward their father, their eyes downcast. He tentatively puts his arms around them like he's trying to keep some distance between them, not wanting them to get too close. He's isolating himself from them because he doesn't want to hurt them, not realizing that choosing
to continually withdraw from them is what's hurting them the most.

  Karolina rolls her eyes at him, and I'm glad her daughters can't see her.

  "Eva, I'd like you to meet Willa," Drake says, placing one hand on top of the older girl's head before ruffling the hair of the younger one, "and Coco."

  They both stare at me with the same breathtaking blue-green eyes as Drake, but from the puzzled expression on their faces, I can tell they're not exactly sure how I fit into their father's life.

  I don't know what their mother's told them, but I urged her not to say too much. Drake has a lot of catch-up work to do after years of having been basically an absentee dad. He's not going to be the type of father they need overnight. I just need their mother to help a ten-year-old and a six-year-old understand that.

  "You wanted to say goodbye to your father? Then go say goodbye over there. I need to talk to Miss Eva," Karolina says, pulling me aside and not even acknowledging Drake.

  Drake slips out of his daughters' embrace, more than ready to confront his ex-wife. "You can cash my alimony checks, but you can't even ask me how I'm doing?"

  "I don't really care," she mutters, finally throwing him a bored glance.

  Just by observing their dynamic, I can see why their marriage didn't work. They're two egomaniacs hell-bent on destroying each other. They know what buttons to push, caring more about themselves than the two little girls standing there watching them.

  I cough, getting Drake to look at me. I tip my head at Willa and Coco, silently reminding him to remember what we just talked about. He squares his shoulders and takes them by the hand, guiding them toward a nearby bench. Karolina wastes no time striding over, cornering me out of earshot of her ex-husband.

  "I'm getting married again." She takes her leather gloves off and shoves her mega-carat diamond in my face. "But don't tell Drake. I don't want him to know yet."

  "But why? He's going to find out eventually."

  For me, honesty is always the best policy when it comes to dealing with a recovering addict. They already lie enough to themselves. They don't need anyone else to lie to them too, especially me. I'm the one they're supposed to be able to trust the most.

  "I'm afraid of how he'll react. He's such a loose cannon." She sighs dramatically. "I need some kind of father figure for my girls, and I finally found a good man, and I intend to hold on to him. Drake is not going to scare him away."

  "Who's the lucky guy?" My stomach clenches, hoping she's not going to say the name of one of Drake's teammates.

  "Tanner Klein. He's the CEO of the TK vitamin chain," she says, beaming. "We're so in love, and he's fantastic with the girls."

  "Drake could be too—if you'd let him."

  I don't mean to burst her bubble, but I don't like the idea of her thinking she can replace their real father just like that. Sure, Drake hasn't come through in the past, and it's only natural for her to look for someone else, but something about being adopted has always put me on the defensive when it comes to separating a child from a parent. That's a relationship that should never be denied, no matter how difficult the circumstances. Drake was negligent, not abusive. He made a lot of bad decisions, but he's learning not to make the same mistakes again. With the proper supervision, he should be able to interact with his daughters. I don't like the fact that Karolina thinks she can write him out of their lives. I would've done anything for the opportunity to spend some time with my birth parents, regardless if I had to visit them on skid row or in a penthouse.

  "Ay dios mio! Tienes que estar bromiando!" she exclaims.

  There's an awkward pause when she waits for me to answer her.

  But I shake my head, already knowing where this is headed. "Sorry. I don't speak Spanish."

  "Madre de dios!" She raises a hand to her forehead. "What is the world coming to?"

  Living in New York, I've dealt with situations like this more times than I can count whenever I can't back up my Latin roots. So I do what I always do—swallow my pride and try not to let it get to me.

  "English, por favor," I reply ever so sweetly.

  "All right, Eva. You want the truth? I don't want him anywhere near the girls because I don't feel safe leaving them alone with him," Karolina declares. "He's a self-absorbed junkie who's just going to start using again the moment things get tough." She steps even closer to me. "You're just wasting your time with him, Eva. I've been keeping his dirty little secret for a long time. Yeah, the Kings are protecting him now. But what's going to happen when he can't play anymore?"

  I stare at her defiantly, knowing I can't give her a definitive answer.

  She shakes her head at me before giving her ex-husband a cursory glance. "I'm not going to feed my girls a line of false promises." She puts her gloves back on and beckons to her children. "Come on, girls. Let's go."

  They don't put up much of a fight, dutifully complying with their mother's request. They're okay with only spending five minutes in their father's company, but based on the gutted look on Drake's face, I can tell he's upset that their time together is already over. He shoves his hands in his pockets, his eyes never leaving their faces as they bustle around their mother. He loves them deeply. He just doesn't know how to show it, afraid that, if they get too close, he'll only end up disappointing them again—the curse of going through life with the label "children of Drake Schultz."

  He watches them walk back out onto the street and into a waiting car. His shoulders slump as they get in without turning around to wave goodbye to him. He's been through a lot these last few weeks, but he's going to have to work a lot harder in order to rebuild their trust.

  "They're on spring break this week, and they wanted to know why they couldn't come down to the island with me," he says bitterly, letting his hands drop to his sides. "I didn't know what to tell them, but apparently, you told Karolina to say it was a work-related thing."

  "Yeah, that's right," I reply as Karolina tucks her long, toned legs into the backseat.

  He runs his hand along his jaw, giving me a wry smile. "They think you're my girlfriend."

  "Drake, I don't think—"

  "Relax," he says. "It's only because their mom is supposedly seeing some douchebag."

  "According to Karolina, it sounds pretty serious," I reply, feeling him out.

  "Well, he'd better stay the fuck away from me, or I'll beat the living daylights out of him." His eyes darken, his anger quick to flare. "They're my kids, not his. If he thinks he can take them to Disney World and be a motherfuckin' hero in their eyes, he has another thing coming. They're never going to appreciate anything if they're always getting things handed to them. They don't know what the value of hard work really is."

  "They're well behaved, quiet, polite. I don't think you have anything to worry about," I respond, wondering why he's putting so much pressure on them. "Things don't have to be so strained with Karolina. She's their mom, and she just wants things to work out for them."

  "By replacing me," he says, his eyes flashing.

  I think it's his competitive streak talking rather than his wish for having the perfect, happy family. But his reaction is enough to worry me. If he thinks he's being replaced, he might want to check out for good, depending on how low his lows tend to go. It seems like he's been using cocaine as a stimulant to improve his mood, taking more and more each time, forever chasing that one perfect high. He's sad, unhappy, trapped in a life he doesn't like. It wouldn't take much to push him toward an overdose.

  And I can see why he's frustrated. I often feel the same way—stuck in a life that doesn't include much joy. But counseling addicts is my calling, I look at it as my way of paying my dues for having survived my rough beginnings.

  "You have such a unique personality," I say, lightly patting his arm, unable to deny the jolt of electricity that shoots through me whenever he touches me or I touch him. "You're not going to fit with just anybody."

  "Oh, no?" he asks, his voice rough and dangerous.

  But I plunge on,
not knowing if I should be the one saying this but knowing he needs to hear it all the same. "You need to be with a special type of woman. You're a handful, and a lot of women would walk away from your bad attitude, thinking it's legit. You need someone who can see it for the cover it really is."

  I want to go on, but I stop myself based on the smoldering way he's looking at me.

  "Oh, there's Noah." I hastily bend down and gather my bags when I catch a glimpse of him pulling the car around to take us to the airport.

  That's as far as I can go with him on that subject. He's my client who's in a very shaky place right now. I don't know why I've always had this soft spot for him, but I do. He's not the villain everyone makes him out to be. He has issues—issues I'm helping him work toward resolving.

  But he's not there yet.

  He needs to know that just because Karolina wasn't right for him doesn't mean no one else ever will be. I only hope I didn't imply that that person could be me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drake

  Step Five

  Share My Inventory.

  I push Noah out of the way when he starts to remove our bags from the trunk.

  "Hey, man, I've got it," he says when I struggle, trying to lift two heavy suitcases at once.

  I glare at him in response and begin wheeling everything over to the plane. We're parked on a private runway, and I'm the one in charge of securing our luggage onboard. I want it done right. I don't want Noah getting involved.

  I rearrange everything, strapping it down in the cargo hold, after weighing it on the portable scale I have in the back.

  I can hear Eva and Noah talking to each other. When I throw a quick glance over, I catch her watching me and meet her gaze for a moment. She said in the car while we were coming over that she's never flown before. Apparently, she never had the time or the inclination to leave the city. Her work is here. Her life is here. And now, I'm taking her away from everything and everyone she knows, selfish prick that I am.

  If she's willing to do that for me, then I'm going to have to offer her something in return. I can't keep on taking and taking from her. But I don't know if I can give her what she wants from me.

 

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