Meant For Her

by Raine Thomas

  Evan had agreed to undergo an exam by the team’s medical staff before taking the field. Their exam determined that he was still dehydrated and suffering some muscle weakness. Management wanted him to sit that night’s game out to make sure he was fully recovered. They also intended to pump him full of liquids, electrolytes, and vitamin supplements.

  “All right, spill it,” Cole said when they were seated on the stadium grass going through their routine stretches. “I watched the reports on ESPN since you wouldn’t answer your phone. Is ‘food poisoning’ code for a night of partying with naked women?”

  Evan shook his head. He was all too aware of the many cameras focused on them. His illness made for interesting sports news fodder, so he was going to have to deal with the extra exposure for a while. Seeing that there was no one close enough to overhear him, he gave Cole the recap, including the Thai food fail. When he explained what had happened to Sierra that morning, Cole was appropriately outraged.

  “Jesus. We’ve got to find out who the client was.”

  Grateful to have an opinion in line with his, Evan nodded. “Damn right, we do.”

  “I wonder if Sierra happened to mention the client’s name to Everly. It’d be worth asking.”

  “Can you call her after warm-ups?”

  “Sure can.”

  They went through the rest of stretching without talking. Evan was allowed to take BP, but not allowed to shag flies because he’d lose too much sweat. His mind was already off the field anyway, hoping to get an answer from Cole’s wife.

  After practice wrapped up, they headed for the locker room to get into uniform. Evan nodded at Cole when his friend grabbed his cell phone and walked out of the room. As much to distract himself as anything else, he got changed while he waited. He was expected to dress out even though he wouldn’t be playing.

  “Glad to have you back, Dorsey,” Larry said as he stopped in front of his own changing area. “Is it true you had food poisoning?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That sucks, man,” Burke commiserated as he pulled on his jersey. He grinned and added, “Guess I’ll cover your sorry ass at third for one more night. We managed to pull out the win without you yesterday.”

  That was largely because Cole pitched eight shutout innings and Lou Jimenez closed it out in the ninth on three straight batters. But Evan didn’t bother pointing out what everyone already knew.

  Across the room, Matt snorted as he listened to them. “Only two weeks with the team and Dorsey’s making excuses to stay home and avoid actual play. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Shove it, Jensen,” Theo said. “You act like you’ve never missed a game, for cryin’ out loud.”

  “Yeah, man,” Javy chimed in. “You’ve had more injuries than my eighty-year-old abuela.”

  Cole walked back in and shook his head. Evan frowned.

  “Thanks anyway, mate,” he said just loud enough for Cole’s ears.

  He sat down and put on his cleats, listening to the byplay between the other players without much interest. Matt’s jibe was nothing unusual. The guy always had something to say.

  “I hurt my throwin’ shoulder,” Theo mimicked in a high, girlish voice. “I pulled a hammy. My knee’s blown.” He shook his head at Matt. “Hell, you even got a big-ass bandage on your neck today. Next thing you know, you’re gonna tell us you cut yourself shavin’ and needed a goddamn blood transfusion.”

  “Shut the hell up, Oxley,” Matt grumbled.

  Glancing at the bandage Theo mentioned, Evan straightened. He slowly got to his feet and walked closer to Matt, who stood up, braced for a confrontation. Evan focused on the deep red lines that the bandage didn’t quite cover.

  He met Matt’s gaze.

  “You and me,” he said, “we’re going to have a conversation. Right now.”

  Chapter 20

  “Fuck you,” Matt spat. “I don’t have to do anything you say, you piece of shit.”

  “You do if you don’t want everyone knowing how you came by those scratches,” Evan said, his tone reflecting none of the rage roiling inside him.

  Matt’s jaw worked as his gaze shifted from Evan to Cole, who walked over to stand beside him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s none of your goddamn business how I cut myself. Oxley’s right. I did it while shaving.”

  “You shave in your study, do you?” Evan asked coolly.

  Matt’s face turned two shades whiter. “What the—”

  “Right now, Jensen.”

  Evan turned to walk out, knowing he had the other man’s attention. Cole grasped his arm before he could leave.

  “Remember that we need those hands of yours, Dorsey.”

  Giving his friend a brisk nod of acknowledgement, he met Matt’s gaze and jerked his head toward the door. They headed out together, not speaking. Matt limped without crutches, proving what an idiot he was. Evan felt the curious eyes of their teammates on their backs and figured Cole would do some form of damage control. He’d have to buy him a beer later.

  He walked down the hall to the storage closet that he had passed on his way to the equipment manager’s office on his first day. As it had been that day, it stood open and unoccupied.

  “In there,” Evan ordered, waving Matt inside.

  “You can’t make me—”

  “You don’t want to know what I could make you do, Jensen. Get in the damn closet.”

  After another brief hesitation, Matt glanced around and then did as he was told. Evan followed, pulling the door closed behind him. Although it was a large storage space, it felt much smaller with the two of them in it.

  “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, pulling shit like this, Dorsey,” Matt said.

  His nerves were rattled. Evan heard it in his voice and saw it in his eyes, which shifted over Evan’s shoulder toward the door.

  “How does it feel?” he asked.

  Matt’s eyes whipped back to him. “How does what feel?”

  “Being trapped. Unable to escape while someone bigger than you is hurting you.”

  “No one’s hurting m—”

  Evan drove his knee into Matt’s balls with enough force to crush them against his spine. The other man issued an almost inaudible scream before he hit the ground, his hands between his legs.

  Squatting beside him, Evan said, “Pity for you that you aren’t in uniform. You might have been wearing a cup.”

  Matt retched.

  “Don’t worry about how I know what took place this morning,” Evan continued. “Just know that I expect you to pay for the services your wife contracted, and you’ll do it by the end of the day tomorrow. You’ll even throw in a substantial tip for her time and trouble. You’ll also keep a muzzle on your wife. If one hint of a bad review is brought to my attention, I will hunt you down. And if you think a knee to your balls is all you’ve got to fear from me, mate, you’re fucking wrong.”

  Grabbing the front of Matt’s shirt, Evan hauled him far enough off the ground that he could see his face. There were tears in the other man’s eyes.

  “If I ever find out that you’ve raped a woman, Jensen, I’ll rip your balls off with my bare hands and stuff them down your goddamn throat. Do we understand each other?”

  Matt managed a nod. His face was ashen and covered in sweat.

  “Excellent. You look like you could use a hand.”

  Evan helped him stand. Once Matt looked steady enough, Evan drove his elbow into his gut, once again dropping him to the floor.

  “On second thought, get your own ass up, you son of a bitch. I’ve got a game to get to.”

  * * *

  “You have to let me talk to Caroline about this, honey,” Regina said.

  Sierra gripped her mom’s hand as they sat together on the sofa. Leo also sat with her, his head on her lap. Deanne was in the kitchen making some hot tea. Her concerned gaze kept sweeping between Regina and Sierra.

  “To what end, Mom? It’s not like I’m going to file charges. Nothing I
tell Aunt Caroline will turn back time and keep it from happening. The most it will do is upset Aunt Caroline and convince her not to re-sign Jensen after this season, which she isn’t planning to do anyway.”

  “Sierra, what if there have been others?” Regina asked in a gentle voice.

  She considered that. Had the episode with Matt been an isolated incident? He’d said that he and his wife had “an understanding.” Did he mean his wife turned a blind eye to his indiscretions, or had it been a line so he could try and get in her pants?

  Deanne carried a tray with three mugs of steeping tea on it and set the tray on the glass coffee table. Scooting Leo over, she sat on Sierra’s other side and placed a hand over hers.

  “Regina’s right, honey. You should tell Caroline. She’s the best person we know when it comes to investigatin’. If there’s anythin’ that needs to be made known about Matt Jensen’s deplorable behavior, she’ll find it. And she’ll want to know it. She’s very particular about her players and how they conduct themselves.”

  “I know,” Sierra said.

  “She’ll also help prevent any rumors from bein’ spread by Nancy Jensen,” Regina added. “Caroline excels at that sorta thing.”

  Sierra nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to Aunt Caroline myself.”

  She saw the relieved look exchanged between her parents and felt bad for having worried them. They had also told her to go to the police when they found out what had happened, but she still felt she would be wasting her time. She’d seen way too many cases of professional athletes facing charges by women like her. It rarely ended well for the females.

  No, she wasn’t willing to press charges, but she would talk to her aunt. Her moms were right. If Matt had harmed other women, he needed to be stopped.

  After they finished their tea, they took Leo, Miller, and Beck for their afternoon walks. Deanne insisted on making Sierra some soup before they left, so she ate a bowl of tomato soup with a couple of slices of toasted cheese bread on the side for dinner. It was the first solid food she’d eaten in almost two days. She couldn’t even finish all of it. Fortunately, her system had regulated enough that she kept it down without any problem.

  When seven-thirty rolled around, she curled up on the sofa with the dogs to watch the game. She hadn’t known that Evan wasn’t going to play. The announcers explained that the team doctors were concerned about how severely dehydrated he’d gotten as a result of his food poisoning, and were keeping him out one more day as a precaution.

  While they explained this, the camera panned to the dugout. It captured Evan walking from one side to the other. She saw Cole on the bench and figured Evan was going to sit beside his friend.

  The camera zoomed in on Evan. Some of his stats flashed across the screen as the announcers analyzed how his absence might affect the team’s performance. Sierra froze when she watched him walk past Matt Jensen. Seeing Matt again brought tears to her eyes.

  She noticed that Evan stared at him as he walked past. His expression wasn’t visible to the camera, but whatever Matt read in it had him averting his gaze. She realized a couple of things from the brief interaction.

  One, Evan knew.

  And two, Matt was terrified of him.

  She considered this as she petted Beck’s ears. Shouldn’t she be upset that Evan had obviously said something to Matt? Shouldn’t she want to confront him about fighting her battles for her? Shouldn’t she be worried that whatever Evan had done would somehow come back to bite him or her?

  She supposed she should. As the game went on, she considered just what she’d tell him when she saw him later.

  It was nearly midnight when the elevator dinged. Evan walked past her door first. She got up and moved Beck to the wagon, then wheeled him to the door with Miller in tow. By the time she opened her apartment door and emerged with the dogs, Evan was walking back out of his.

  He held her gaze as she approached. She ran through what she wanted to tell him as she stopped in front of him. She read in his eyes that he realized she knew.

  Reaching up, she pulled him down for a kiss.

  “Thank you, Evan,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome, Sierra.”

  Chapter 21

  At six o’clock on Sunday morning, Evan hit the downstairs gym. It had become a daily habit, one he’d missed the past couple of days. He spent an hour mixing cardio on the elliptical with some sets on the weight machine. While he was finishing up his ab exercises, Angeline Wilburn from 3-B walked in. Her routine was almost as predictable as his. From what he’d garnered based on their limited interactions, she shared her apartment with another twenty-something who hated to work out.

  “Good morning, Evan,” she said with a smile.

  “Morning,” he said.

  He continued with his workout, uninterested in holding a conversation. Although she seemed nice enough, he didn’t come to the gym to chat. If moving the equipment from one place to the next wouldn’t be such a pain and expense, he’d have a home gym.

  She took her usual spot in front of the mirrored wall, beginning a series of stretches that displayed how supple her body was. Her outfit of a sports bra and skin-tight bike shorts conformed to every curve and revealed a lot of skin. It wasn’t the worst view to have while exercising, he supposed.

  By seven, he’d finished his routine and was downing a cup of water from the gym’s cooler before heading back upstairs. He watched Angeline struggle with the weight machine as she tried to work her legs. She’d never used the weights before while he’d been in the gym. She was usually a treadmill junkie. Lifting an eyebrow, he silently gave her credit for her approach.

  Knowing it was what she wanted, he said, “You’re using too much weight.”

  “What?” she asked, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

  “It’s still set to my weight limit. You need to reduce it.”

  “Damn.” She flushed and fiddled with her long, auburn ponytail. “I guess it’s obvious now that I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Oh, I think you do, Evan thought. But he was in the mood to humor her.

  “Here.” He walked over to the machine and removed the pin that set the weight limit, adjusting it to a more appropriate level.

  She gave the leg weights a testing pull and grinned when her ankles lifted off the floor.

  “That’s great, thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  He grabbed the towel he used to catch his sweat and tossed it over a shoulder. Before he reached the door, she spoke again.

  “Hey, Evan…there’s a barbecue later out in the common area. Kind of an early Fourth of July thing. Do you know about it?”

  “No. But I have a game this afternoon, so I won’t be around.”

  She frowned. “Oh, right. Well, it’ll last into the evening, if it’s anything like our usual get-togethers. Everyone usually brings enough food to cover lunch and dinner, if you know what I mean.”

  “Ah. If it’s still going on when I get home, maybe I’ll drop in.”

  The words surprised him as he said them. Even more surprising was the genuine interest behind them. When had that happened?

  Her face lit up. “That’d be great.”

  Lifting his chin in a form of farewell, he headed upstairs. He showered, changed, and ate some breakfast. At eight, the cleaning company he had hired to come by a couple of times a month buzzed so he could let them in. He put Miller and Beck in their cages to keep them contained while the apartment was cleaned.

  He sat on the balcony with his laptop, answering e-mails and updating his social media pages. While he was online, he looked up an address for Sierra’s parents. He ordered them flowers to be delivered that day, personalizing cards to each of them.

  Between eight-thirty and nine, he handled a few phone interviews. Wayne had already warned him to be prepared to sit in on a press conference after the game so he could address questions about missing the past two games. Although Evan didn’t like it, the media exposure was a part
of his job.

  The sound of a balcony door opening turned his attention as he hung up with the final reporter of the day. He watched Sierra emerge with a couple of small rugs. She wore a baggy T-shirt peppered with holes and paint stains. It practically covered her denim cut-offs. Her hair was pulled back with a dark blue kerchief. A smudge of dirt marred her skin just above her right eyebrow.

  Now why did he find her ten times sexier than he did Angeline, the flexible workout queen?

  Sierra glanced over and spotted him. Her dimples made their appearance.

  And he had his answer.

  “Good morning, Evan,” she said.

  “Good morning, Sierra.”

  He watched as she set one of the rugs down and then held the second one over the far end of the balcony railing. In her other hand, she held a thick wooden spoon. She proceeded to beat the hell out of the rug with the spoon.

  “Picturing anyone in particular while you do that?” he asked as she switched rugs.

  She just smiled again and went back to rug-beating. Closing his laptop, he got up and walked over to the railing between their balconies. His gaze moved down to her tanned legs, which were nicely displayed as she bent over the balcony. Before long, his imagination had those legs wrapped around his waist.

  Once she was finished, she laid the rug on the ground and picked up a spray bottle he hadn’t noticed before. She proceeded to spray something on both rugs. A deodorizer of some kind, he guessed, judging by the hint of lemon that drifted his way.

  “You know, they make these things called vacuum cleaners,” he offered.

  “I do know. I’ll be using one later to suck up dog hair. Much easier than a broom.” She tipped a head toward his apartment. “Your cleaning crew finished vacuuming your place about ten minutes ago.”

  “Ah.”

  “They inspired me to get my chores done early today. I’ve been meaning to napalm the bathroom anyway.”