by Kathy Lyons
“I don’t want her safe,” Connor said, his voice thick. “I want her loved. And I don’t think you can do that.”
I flinched. He was right. I didn’t do that, and everyone knew it. Even Ellie. My gaze slipped away until I was staring at the stained locker room carpet. “I can,” I murmured.
“No. You did. Sometime before. But now you can’t—you don’t.”
Fury built inside me, hot and dark, a spark that became a bonfire in the space of one breath. Suddenly I was shoving him off me though it made my ribs burn with pain. “It’s my love life, Connor. And hers. You can butt the hell out.”
I was ready for him to come at me again. With words. Or fists. Whatever. I was ready for him.
He didn’t. He just shook his head. “You kids think it’s so easy. You’re fast on the field, fast with women, but nothing’s as fast as that mouth. You can talk your way out of anything.” He snorted. “Enjoy it, asshole. Because someday soon, your luck is going to run out.”
My eyes widened. I hadn’t expected to get such an old man speech out of him. Connor wasn’t that much older than me. He was hardly in the old guy category. But as much as I wanted to be pissed about what he’d said, part of me was quickly calculating probabilities. Sure, Connor was afraid for his cousin, but he’d already warned both her and me. There wasn’t much more he could do except let us go as we chose. Which meant…
This little speech was more about him than me.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why do you think your luck’s run out?”
Connor jerked in surprise, and then his eyes abruptly narrowed. Faster than I expected, his fist connected hard with my jaw. My head whipped around and I barely caught myself before I was slammed against the wall.
He had his chance then. While I was holding on to the wall for dear life, he could have followed up the first punch with any number of body blows. But he didn’t. Instead, he loomed over me.
“Keep my cousin off the fucking internet, asshole. And don’t you ever touch her again.”
I nodded, even though that was ridiculous. Ellie and I would be dating for the next few months. Of course I would touch her. But I didn’t need to say that. In fact, I figured a docile response was the best way to get out of this situation and move on to the real problem. My growing fear. What would Ellie do when she saw me today? Yeah, she’d agreed to the charade over the phone, but girls like her tended to show their true feelings no matter what they promised. One look at her face would tell the tale.
And that had me terrified. What would I see when I looked at her? Anger? Disgust? Turns out I had zero predictions in that area. Or rather a zillion, all with equal probabilities.
Fortunately, Connor stomped away and I took the time to disappear into the doc’s room. He had a cold pack for my jaw, some painkillers for my ribs, and a long, cold, uncomfortable stare. He didn’t say anything, though. And for that, I was eternally grateful.
Then it was time for batting practice before the game. I was on the disabled list until the ribs healed, so according to league rules, I couldn’t dress with the team or sit in the dugout. But Gia had arranged one of the open-air boxes for me, Ben and his family, and Ellie and hers. We’d be one big happy photogenic group waving to the cameras during the game.
That’s where I was headed with my jaw still throbbing and my heart beating in my throat. And with every step, the dread mixed with anticipation into a gut-churning disaster. What the hell was wrong with me? I hadn’t been this keyed up since my first minor league game. Even my debut in the majors hadn’t made me this nauseous. And yet every time I stopped to sign an autograph, every pause on the stairs as I waved to a group cheering my name, it felt like another acid bomb had exploded in my stomach.
Finally, I arrived. This was it.
I stepped through the back of the box into a carpeted area before the seats. Cameras flashed and applause went up. I had my press face on—bland smiling with a hand wave—as I looked for Ellie. I didn’t see her behind Ben’s family. He came running up to me, talking nonstop, while dragging his father over.
I forced my gaze down to Ben as he introduced me to his family—the whole crew. Dad had apparently hopped the first flight to Chicago after the fire. Ben’s aunt, uncle, and cousins crowded in, all longtime White Sox fans though they were sporting Bobcats jerseys today. His grandma and grandpa were tearful. They all wanted to thank me personally for saving Ben, and I took the time required to shake every hand and allow my cheek to be kissed. Camera flashes continued, and I couldn’t help wondering just how many reporters Gia had dragged in here.
Where the hell was Ellie?
Eventually, I finished meeting all of Ben’s family. The game was starting, thank God. The announcer was introducing the players, and the crowd was cheering. It was a welcome distraction. So as Ben’s family turned to look down at the field, I finally got a chance to see the other people in the box.
The McDonalds were there, smiling warmly at me, but only one face stood out to me.
Ellie.
Freckles. Dimples. Soft cherry lips. Pert nose. And smoky brown eyes perfect for a movie set.
Wait. What?
Rachel must have done Ellie’s makeup. She didn’t look bad, but she wasn’t the Ellie I wanted to see. I was looking for the hometown girl with clear eyes and a smile just for me.
Except she wasn’t smiling. She was biting her lower lip in nervousness and twisting her fingers around the charm bracelet I’d given her. I stepped forward, but hesitated two steps later. She didn’t look glad to see me. She looked terrified.
Oh shit. What had I done?
Then Rachel bumped her from behind in a not-so-subtle push. Ellie lurched forward awkwardly, and I closed the distance between us because I didn’t want her to stumble. She didn’t. She stopped a couple inches from me. And then I was looking down at her, studying every nuance in her expression, trying to guess what they meant.
“Ellie,” I said. “I’m so sorry ab—”
She stopped me with a kiss. Pushing up on her toes, she slammed her mouth against mine. The kiss was awkward and abrupt, but hell, I didn’t mind. I caught her around the waist and pulled her tight.
She settled, her mouth softening, her body easing. I teased the seam of her mouth, and soon her lips relaxed and separated. I angled my head as she tilted just right. Then I slipped between her teeth. A stroke. A tease. And suddenly, she was dueling with me, tongue to tongue, while I deepened the kiss.
She didn’t hate me. She wasn’t angry. She was soft and sweet in my arms. And her kiss was making me think of a dozen different places we could go in the stadium to be alone.
“Okay, you two. Let’s not go overboard. There are kids here.”
It was Rachel as she tugged on my arm. Ellie stiffened and abruptly drew back, her face burning. I could feel the heat from where I held her close. I was sure photos of that kiss would be hitting the internet within seconds, and I couldn’t help but grin. No one could call her cruel names now. She was too flushed with embarrassment, and I was too obviously smitten. If anyone had any doubts about the wholesomeness of our relationship, all they had to do was expand the lens to take in Ellie’s parents as they looked on with doting expressions.
Score one for media management.
After that, things settled down pretty quick. It was time to watch the game, so after greeting Ellie’s parents (a hard handshake from her dad, a peck on the cheek from her mom), I turned to Rachel, who gave me the death stare. Wow. She and Connor could be twins with that look. But I’d already taken a cut to the jaw from her cousin. No way was I going to let Ellie’s sister make me feel small. Not after that kiss.
“It’s under control,” I murmured to her as I gave her a brotherly hug.
“It better be,” she said as she used her hug to squeeze my neck harder than a vise.
Well, okay. Connor had slugged me in the jaw. I supposed Rachel was due her pound of flesh as well. I took it like a man, then turned to focus on Ellie. T
his close, I could see that her burning flush of embarrassment was gone. In truth, if it weren’t for the artfully applied makeup, she’d probably look pale. Her hand was cool in mine, and her smile was looking a little forced.
“Let’s sit down,” I suggested.
Ellie tried to pull her hand from mine. I let her go reluctantly, but couldn’t stand not touching her. I set my hand on her lower back as she moved to her seat. Then I dropped down beside her. She twisted uncomfortably, looking at my arm where it stretched behind her.
“Too close?” I murmured as quietly as I could.
“Um. No. Just…um…weird.”
“I don’t want you to feel weird,” I whispered. So I drew back, pulling my hand away, and dropped it on my lap. But I stayed close enough that our arms touched, and we could hold hands if she wanted to. I didn’t understand my sudden need to touch her. The kiss should have reassured me that everything between us was okay, but it didn’t. Because after that scorching greeting, she was now acting shy and reserved.
So how did she really feel? Hot and happy in my arms? Or awkward and unsure?
I leaned to murmur into her ear. “I know this is strange, but if we can get through the game, we can go somewhere and talk. Then we’ll work out all the details however you want. You can hit me, scream at me, whatever you need.” And if there were more of those kisses, I wouldn’t object. “I know you’re pissed.”
“Not at you,” she whispered back.
Well, that was good.
“I’m furious with myself.”
Make that not good.
“But I’ll deal.”
I winced. I didn’t want her “dealing” with me or our time together. I wanted… Graphic images flashed through my brain. Well, yeah, of course I wanted that. But was there something else I wanted? With Ellie?
Maybe.
I looked at her through my peripheral vision. I saw the curve of her cheek and the ski slope of her nose. I thought about her carrying the fruit salad at the barbecue, surrounded by family. I remembered the way she laughed, warm and free. She hadn’t even been drinking, and yet everything about her had been relaxed and open. I thought about her scent and remembered how she’d tasted just before orgasm. And again, I was right back into Little Jake territory. Was it all about sex for me? Was that all I wanted?
I was too frightened of the answer to look deeper. After all, it was natural to want everything she represented—a good girl, a loving family, a house in the suburbs—especially since my upbringing had been nothing like that. The need I was feeling had nothing to do with Ellie and everything to do with my own crappy childhood.
So I settled for holding Ellie’s hand and watching the Bobcats win. Except, as the time ticked away, I knew this quiet space to think was nearly over. Ellie was not a woman who would tolerate being in limbo for long. Sure enough, five minutes after the game ended, she dropped a bombshell.
“It was great seeing you all,” she said to her family as she kissed them each in turn. “I’m going to go back to Indy with Jake now, but I’ll be sure to keep in touch.” Then she turned to look me in the eye. “Unless you have to ride on the team bus or something?”
What could I say? She wanted to talk, and I needed to listen. “Of course not. Let’s drive together.”
Chapter Twelve
Ellie
Damn, damn, damn. The man just didn’t know how to refuse me. Yes, I know I asked him to drive back to Indianapolis with me, but I figured he’d make up some excuse and bail. That’s what playboys did, right? But he’d agreed, and so here we were, sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic, neither one of us saying a damn thing. And it was getting really uncomfortable.
He broke first.
“So, um, what did you want to talk about?”
I considered lying, making up something trivial and going with that. But this whole date thing happened because I was trying not to be a coward anymore. Which meant I had to fess up.
“I didn’t,” I said as I gripped the steering wheel. “I thought you’d find an excuse to back out.”
He twisted in the passenger seat to stare at me. “You expected me to say no?”
I shrugged.
“Why exactly do you think people are automatically going to say no to you?”
“Experience?”
He snorted. “When have you ever been turned down?”
I sighed. It was like I could read his thoughts. He thought that a cute girl like me could wrap the world around her little finger, but that wasn’t true. It had never been true. Nobody cared that I was sweet or nice. The world didn’t bend over backward for me, any more than it did for anyone else.
“Ellie—”
“It’s not me, it’s Rachel. Ever since she was little, I’ve watched her barrel through life. She begs, cajoles, harasses, and bullies until she gets her way. And it works most of the time.”
“Yeah? So?”
“So I’m not built that way. I can’t pester people once they turn me down. So I don’t even try. Not unless I already know I’ll get the answer I want.” Didn’t he understand? That was the whole reason I started this “get rejected” campaign—so I would force myself to ask and keep asking for things, no matter how many times the world said no.
He didn’t respond, but just stared at me while I kept my eyes on the road. But this time, I was the one who broke first.
“What?” I asked.
“I need to know if you want me to be honest with you or just keep my mouth shut. We’re stuck together for the next few months, so I’m trying to make this as easy as possible for you.”
Traffic was going nowhere, so I turned and looked at him. “Why is that even a question? Of course I want you to be honest.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m not going to hold back.” He blew out his breath. “I’m known for being kind of blunt.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m a nurse. I’ll match your bluntness and see you a sarcastic retort.”
He grinned. “Game on, then.”
“So?” I prompted. “What did you want to say?”
“That you’re not timid. You have no trouble speaking your mind. And I don’t, for one second, believe that all the guys in your past have rejected you. You’re too beautiful for that to be true.”
My body flushed hot and happy at the word “beautiful,” and it was in no way drowned out by the fact that he was calling me a liar.
“You’ve met Rachel, right? Ms. Dramatic Beauty? No one ever looks at me after—”
“Bullshit. I looked at you. All the guys on the team looked at you. And that was just one picnic.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but then shut it with a snap. The idea that everyone had looked at me was…delightful. Special enough that I couldn’t help smiling. “Really?” I asked, knowing that I needed to hear him say it again.
He groaned. “I cry bullshit again, Ellie. You know guys look at you.”
“Then why don’t they ask me out? Why—”
“How many boyfriends did you have in high school?”
I bit my lip. “Serious? One.”
“And more casual ones?”
I shrugged. “A few.”
“So guys do ask you out. And I’m sure you got plenty of swipes of interest on whatever dating app you’ve used.”
No argument there. I had gotten lots of interest, but I was in school back then. I didn’t have time for guys. So I ended up deleting my profile. And smart man that he was, Jake took my silence for admission.
“See? You’ve been asked.”
I blew out a breath and accelerated too hard. The car jerked forward, but then I steadied out at a slow crawl. “Fine. Yes, guys do ask me out. Just not…” I shot a look over at him. “Hot guys. Popular guys. Celebrities like you.”
“Have you ever asked them?”
I tapped my nail on the wheel. “They’re supposed to ask me.”
“Well, yeah. But celebrities can be especially stupid. And distracted. So except for me, have you ever
approached a celebrity?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know any celebrities except the Bobcats.”
“And I’m the only one you’ve ever asked out, and I said yes.” He leaned toward me, his green eyes narrowed. “So what’s all this ‘experience’ you’re talking about? Why do you assume you’re going to get rejected?”
“Because I made bad boyfriend choices in college.” They’d started out great, but quickly turned into selfish jerks. And being the romantic, I’d hung on way too long and gotten used to having all my ideas rejected as stupid.
“We all make dumb choices,” he argued. “My last serious girlfriend wanted to remake me into Clooney. She scrutinized my every public appearance and tried to change my hair and my wardrobe. Hell, even baseball babes have tried to change me somehow. One told me I needed to smile with less teeth.”
“You’ve got a great smile.”
He flashed me his pearly whites. “Of course I do.” Then his expression faded. “The point is, we’re all stupid at times. Just don’t make that a lifelong habit.”
And there was the reason behind all my exposure therapy. I hated that I stopped myself before I even tried. But rather than rehash old ground with him, I sidestepped the issue. “It’s not just guys, you know. It’s everything.”
“Let me guess. You had to work hard to get good grades, then fight to get any respect from your peers. When things just seem to come easy to pretty girls and hot guys, you had to work hard to force someone to even see you.”
I blew out a breath. “Yes.” That was exactly what I meant.
“Welcome to the club.”
I glared at him. “Please. I’ve seen your stats, your press, and your face. You’ve never—”
“Felt humiliated? Like I had to prove myself every second I’m on the field or up to bat? Everyone struggles, Ellie. But if you just assume you’ll lose, then you have to fight yourself as well as everyone else.”
I glared at him, hard enough that I allowed an asshole in a Ferrari to cut in front of me. But Jake took my glare with all the calm stoicism of a statue. And then, while I cursed the stupid Ferrari, he had the audacity to arch a brow.