by Kathy Lyons
I shook my head slowly as I looked at him, and all the frustration I’d felt over the past few weeks started churning again. Jake was an amazing athlete, a loving son, and a generally considerate boyfriend. After all, here he was, in the middle of the night, trying to comfort me after he’d obviously spent most of the night dealing with his father. It would be ungrateful of me to start fighting with him. And truly bitchy.
But when I looked at him and at this house, all I could see was layer upon layer of denial. I didn’t know if it was because of Pops’s drinking or something that had happened before that. Had he had other hard knocks before his wife abandoned him? Who the hell knew? I certainly didn’t, because no one talked about it. They just cut the grass and pretended it wasn’t killing them.
It was bad enough that Pops lived that way, but now Jake was falling into the same pattern. Sure, he’d ask me to bare my soul, but when it was his turn to let me see the real him, he just deflected my attention. He didn’t drink, but he sure as hell didn’t talk, either.
“I’ll tell you, if you tell me,” I challenged.
He rubbed his eyes and walked to the couch. “Tell you what?”
“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”
“It’s nothing.” He sat down on the couch, moving his body carefully.
“Bullshit. Take a deep breath.”
He looked up at me. “What?”
“Take a deep breath.”
“Ellie, I know you’re upset about your job, but I’m sure it’ll be okay. Anyone can have a bad day. It’s just that Darth Vader boss you have. This is her fault.”
No, it was mine, but I wasn’t going to get sucked into an argument about that. I was too primed for this one.
“Have you told the team doctors about the pain?”
“Ellie, it’s nothing.”
“Is it nothing…or are you afraid that it’s something and you’ll get kicked off the team for it?”
He glared at me. “That’s ridiculous.”
It was, and yet hospitals were filled with people—athletes included—who denied a problem until it was too late. I crossed the room and pressed my hand to his forehead. He tried to duck away, but I was insistent. Fever. Clear as day.
“Just how bad does it hurt, Jake?”
I reached down to press on his ribs, but he grabbed my hand. “The bruise is gone, Ellie. I don’t need you mothering me.”
“I’m not mothering. I’m girlfriending.”
“Well, stop it.”
His grip was strong as he held me away, trying to steer me to sit on the couch. And any other day, I would have gone. I would have taken his dismissal in silence and not rocked the boat. But I was angry and hurt, and it was mainly because of this distance between us. I hated this thing where I’d stopped talking about what was important to me, and he’d never started.
Seeing that I wasn’t bending to his will, he let me go with a deep sigh. “I’m tired, Ellie. It’s way too early in the morning. What do you want?”
I want you to love me.
Those were the words that I wanted to say. But even now, hurt and aching because of the silence between us, I couldn’t voice them.
And then, suddenly, it hit me.
It was easy as hell for me to stand in my truth when I didn’t give a damn, but hard as hell to stand firm when I was risking something. Just keep quiet, my cowardice whispered. Sit on the couch and let him hold you. You can even tell him all about what happened at work. At least he’ll still be in your life. You can still hold on to a piece of him.
So those were my choices.
I could demand that he listen to me. Odds were strong that he’d react the same way he’d done when I told him I loved him. He’d run. He’d walk out on me or throw me out, and then it would be over. Even if we remained a “couple” until the end of the season, it would be unbearable. We’d end up hating each other.
Or I could sit on the couch and let him comfort me. And we’d go on in the same way we had been, with our eyes closed and hearts protected.
I headed for the couch, because that’s what a coward would do. Until they don’t.
Because when I went to bend my knees, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let my cowardice possibly ruin Jake’s life. Because looking at him this close, I could see the sheen to his eyes and the flush to his skin. He even pulled the couch blanket around him, which meant his fever was climbing.
“Listen to me closely,” I said, my voice low. “You need to get into my car and go to the emergency room with me.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“If we go now, it’ll be before practice. The team doesn’t need to know about it until you want to tell them.”
He shook his head, his expression incredulous. “What—?”
“You haven’t taken a deep breath since I got here.”
“So? I told you. The bed—”
“How much pain are you in, Jake? How bad does it hurt to breathe?”
He pushed up from the couch. His eyes were cold, his expression hard. “I can breathe just fine. I sure as hell don’t need to go to the ER.”
“I’m telling you as a nurse that you do.” This was it. This was the moment when I stood firm despite the consequences. Despite possibly losing him forever. At this moment, I was not going to take a step back. “Do you trust me, Jake? Do you respect my education? My training?”
“Of course I do—”
“Then listen to me now.” I held out my hand. And while he stared at me in shock, his hand started to raise. He didn’t want to listen to me. I could tell that. But I was determined.
And then Pops came into the room. His eyes were bloodshot, his hands shook, and he was clearly at the bad end of a bender. “What’s all the yammering about? Decent people should be asleep.”
I spoke quickly, trying to head off the argument. “Jake needs to go to the hospital. I’m taking him.”
Pops jerked upright and stared owlishly at his son. “You sick?”
“Ellie thinks so.”
“You don’t look sick.”
“I—”
“You can’t go tearing off to the hospital. What if there’s a reporter there? You know they hang out at the ER, just in case. Then the Bobcats’ll drop you for sure.”
Denial layered with justification. God, I saw it so clearly right then. “What happened, Jake? Did he punch you in the ribs? Maybe when you were trying to get his keys from him so he wouldn’t drive. Or did you have to pick him up and carry him from the car into the house?” I winced in memory at the number of times I’d let him carry me. But he hadn’t said he was hurting. And now, he clearly was.
Meanwhile, Pops was moving hard into attack mode. “My boy is strong as an ox! You don’t know a damn thing about him. You left him at the All-Star Game. He was moping about the whole time because you up and left. Just like a woman. Nagging when you don’t need ’em. Gone when you do.”
“Stop it!” Jake interrupted, moving to stand between his father and me. “Don’t you dare blame Ellie for the All-Star Game. That was your fault.”
“My fault!” Pops was livid now. Normally he was a congenial drunk, but this was the morning after and he was angry as hell. His bloodshot eyes narrowed and his hands fisted. I had to do something quickly or this was going to end badly for all of us. So I laid it all on the line, in as shocking a manner as possible.
“I love you, Jake!” I bellowed. “I love you!”
That was clearly unexpected. They both drew up short and stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. And maybe I had, but at least they’d shut up.
“I love you,” I repeated in a more normal tone of voice. “I don’t love a bottle. I certainly don’t love your career or your fame. I love you. And I’m sorry I said it before you were ready, but that’s the way it is. So now you have a choice, Jake. You can listen to the woman who loves you. You can climb into my car and let me do what I know is right. Or you can hang out here, in this house with y
our father, popping aspirin and naltrexone until one of you dies.”
Pops hooted. “What a fat load of—”
“Shut up,” Jake growled. And when his father firmed his chin in defiance, Jake turned his back on him. His eyes were steady, his cheeks flushed, and his breath shallow. But he still spoke with strength as he looked at me. “You really think it’s serious?”
“I do. I’ll do my best to keep the press and the team away until we know for sure. I’ve got friends at the ER—”
He took my hand. “Doesn’t matter. I trust you.”
“What a load of bull!” Pops exploded. “She’s turned you into a sucker, boy—”
Pops continued on his rant, spewing more hateful venom than I’d ever heard from the man. But I recognized the fear underneath his words. Fear for his son, for his life, for God only knew what. I was sure that the man would turn to the nearest bottle right after we left. But I couldn’t let Jake worry about that. So I held on to his hand and didn’t let go until he was in my car.
And while I belted myself into the driver’s seat, Jake looked at the house with wary eyes. “It’s going to be bad when I come back. Pops doesn’t forgive—”
“Pops will make his own way, good or bad. We’re taking care of you now.”
Then I put my car into drive and quickly headed to the hospital.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jake
We didn’t speak in the car. My head hurt too damn much, and I didn’t want to trip over my words after what she’d just said.
I love you, Jake.
She’d bellowed the words, and they still echoed in my throbbing head. But most amazing of all, I hadn’t panicked. There’d been no freak-out, no frantic desire to run away, just the steady throb of this fucking headache. And the acute ache in my ribs when I breathed.
I had questions to ask her. What had happened at work? Why had she decided to proclaim her love out loud now? At four in the morning, at Pops’s house? How stupid was that? But most of all, I needed to figure out what I wanted to say back.
Did I love her?
I had so many emotions fighting to answer that, I couldn’t handle it. A riot of noise rose in my head to go with the throbbing and aching that spiked with every shift in the car. Slowing for a stop sign, I closed my eyes and tried not to throw up. Once we sped up, I exhaled slowly and pressed down with my arms to keep my ribs straight.
When had the pain gotten so bad? Right now, it felt excruciating.
Ellie managed everything once we got to the hospital. She whispered to the people on staff, and got me into an interior room before I could pull out my insurance card. Then there was an argument with some young man in a lab coat. Was he a doctor? I couldn’t tell. But she stood there with her arms folded and spoke firmly to him. It must have worked. He nodded smartly to her before walking to my bedside and pulling the curtain closed behind him.
I couldn’t see her then, but he was there asking questions, writing down stuff. And as I answered, I started thinking about her. Way back at the barbecue, she’d caught my attention. She had that sweet, wholesome look that I couldn’t resist, but she’d been shy and nervous. But that’s not the Ellie I saw tonight. She’d been fierce as she spoke to Pops, efficient with the nurses, and relentless with the doctor. She’d been completely in control, and I loved it.
In my family, I was the responsible one, balancing training, games, my family, and the media. But not this time. This time, I was relying on her. And she was here for me.
I loved her.
The words whispered through my brain. Quiet words, over and over, but they echoed with increasing strength.
I loved Ellie.
I was in love with Ellie.
How easy it was to finally admit that. And how ridiculous that I had fought it so hard before. Why? Because when other people had said the words, they hadn’t meant it? Because my father was a drunk and my family a disaster? Those were stupid reasons to run from the best thing that had ever happened to me. I loved her, and I was not going to waste another moment before I told her.
If only I could find her. I tried to get out of bed, but a burly orderly put me in a wheelchair instead and took me upstairs for a scan.
I looked for her as we moved through the hallways, but I didn’t see her. I heard her voice, though. She was talking in cool tones. The rhythms of her words were there, a steady counterpoint to other loud voices. Pops. Larry. When had they gotten here? I heard them talking but blocked them out.
Ellie was keeping them away, and I was so grateful. She was standing guard, protecting me.
The hours flew by in a kind of otherworld place. People talked to me, but I barely listened. If it wasn’t Ellie, then I didn’t care. The diagnosis was clear. I had a diaphragmatic rupture that had gotten infected. The tear had likely happened during the fire. I’d hit my ribs really hard on the railing. At the time, everyone had been worried about my ribs, but they’d heal. They hadn’t noticed the simple tear in the diaphragm beneath my ribs. In fact, it wouldn’t have even shown up on a scan. Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal. It would heal, given time.
Only I hadn’t given it the chance. I’d kept it from healing by working out too hard. By struggling with my father in a bar. By carrying his useless ass up the stairs to his bed. And then, eventually, it got infected. And even that wouldn’t have been such a big problem…unless it was ignored. Which is exactly what I had been doing.
I was given antibiotics. Narcotics for the pain. But what I really needed was Ellie.
Where was she?
I started to get upset. I had to see her, but the more I asked, the more nonsense I heard. She was doing paperwork. She was explaining things to my family. And most incredibly, she was talking to the hospital administrator.
What the hell? But every time I started fighting, someone would come in to talk to me. First it was nurses telling me to rest. Then it wasn’t just the ER doctor, but the team doc as well. I had to pay attention to him. He made me promise to rest for a day in the hospital until my fever came down. And then there would be more medical discussions. But everyone was clear—there was no threat to my baseball career. I’d be 100 percent fine once the infection cleared.
Great, but where was Ellie?
They transferred me to a hospital room where Gia was waiting. She wasn’t the woman I wanted to see. She said she’d keep the press away, that this wouldn’t be a story unless I wanted it to become one. I didn’t even bother to answer. I looked at her and said one word.
“Ellie.”
She sighed and shook her head. “She’s in trouble with her boss. She said she’d come as soon as she could.”
Damn it, that’s not what I wanted to hear. So I pushed back the sheet on the bed. Gia squeaked in alarm, but I was too busy looking for a way to unhook the IV from my arm. I wasn’t going to search the hospital while connected to that thing, and I also wasn’t going to do it with my bare ass hanging out of this gown.
“Where the hell are my clothes?”
“Get back in bed!” Gia snapped.
“Not until I talk to Ellie.”
“If you go wandering around looking for her, who do you think will get in trouble? She will, Jake. So get your ass back in bed.”
No way in hell. I had to see Ellie, but…damn it, I didn’t want to make things worse for her.
“What do you want to say to her, anyway?”
It was none of her business. I meant to tell her that, but instead, different words came out. Humiliating words, but the truth nevertheless.
“I don’t know!”
Well, that was idiotic, and Gia’s arched look told me she agreed.
“Find her,” I growled.
It took her a while, but eventually she nodded. “I will if you lie here and let the antibiotics do their job.” Then for emphasis, she pointed at a number on a monitor beside my bed: 101.3 degrees. Hell, is that why I felt like crap?
“You’ve got until it’s under a hundred,” I grumbl
ed. “Then I’m going to find her and nobody will stop me.”
“Even if it gets her fired?”
I winced. Well, maybe not then. “Just—”
“I’m going. You stay here.”
I crossed my arms and fell backward. Then I remembered what I was supposed to be doing and focused on trying to lower my temperature. Except how the hell was I supposed to do that? Think cool thoughts? Ice. Snow. Arctic temperature. Ellie in a fur bikini dancing in the snow.
Now that was an image I could hold on to. Except once it was in my head, the fantasy continued, with the delightful woman hopping off her dogsled and propping a hand on her hip.
“Well?” she asked. “What are you going to say to me?”
“Shut up,” I growled, not to her, but to the voices in my head that echoed her question, over and over. I had a zillion voices banging around in my skull. What was I going to say to her? What did I want?
Simple questions, but they scared the hell out me. Damn it. For all Ellie’s talk about being terrified of rejection, she was the strong one. She had all the courage that I lacked. After everything I’d done, she’d still put her feelings on the line, twice now. She’d stood up to Pops when I had given up fighting. And—
My thoughts were cut off when my brother came into the room. I frowned at him, wishing he were someone else.
“Hey,” he said, and I forced myself to look at him.
“Have you seen Ellie?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not for a while.”
Damn, he looked like shit. “You coming off a bad shift at the firehouse?”
He shrugged. “Not so bad. What sucked was Pops calling me and telling me you were dying.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not dying. I’m just—”
“Sick, feverish, and in the hospital.” He shuffled closer to the bed. “Look, I’ve been angry with you for a while now, but that’s dumb. It’s not your fault you got talent.”
My fault? I snorted. “I worked hard to be where I am.”
“Yeah,” he echoed dully. “You did.” He stepped the last inch to the side of the bed. “I’m sorry.”
Really? That was…a surprise. But he looked like he meant it. And the idea that we could be real brothers again was so startlingly wonderful that I managed a smile. Not an Ellie-is-here smile, but a good one nonetheless.