“I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. The doctor told me it’s okay to take the tablets on occasion.”
Dom leaned in. “Did he or she mention how frequent those occasions could be?”
Hot flames licked into her cheeks. “Maybe you should wait in the car. I don’t want you making my brother worry.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Zander typed something into his phone. “It says here that breathing exercises, healthy diet, and physical exercise can help relieve stress.”
“I know, and I try to do those.”
Dom crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you need to try harder.”
She gaped at him. “Maybe you do need to wait in the car.”
“Can’t blame a guy for being concerned.”
Her phone vibrated again. Oliver.
“Ugh.” She dragged her hand through her hair. “Does he realize it’s one thirty in the morning? I don’t want to talk to him until I know how everyone is doing.”
“If this Oliver guy bothers you so much, why not let Zander talk to him?” Dom rested his arm along the back of her chair.
Her brother snatched her phone. “Great idea.”
“Awful idea.” She lunged for it and winced as pain bit into her wrist. “He hates Oliver.”
“Can you blame me? After what that guy did to you—”
“Stop.” She raised her good hand. “Give me back my phone.”
Dom’s other hand covered her forearm. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing.” Emphasizing the word, she glared at her brother. “It’s business-related, and it’s old news. Give me my phone.”
To her surprise, Zander handed it over. “Better text him or he’ll keep calling.”
“I will.” She sent a text informing him the band was safe and she’d talk to him in the morning. Dom’s hand shifted from the back of the chair to her shoulder, gently kneading. Inhaling his scent, she nestled into his embrace. Then he smiled at her and her stress melted away.
Frowning, Zander eyed their position. “Just how friendly are you two, anyway?”
“Friendly enough.” Dom’s voice held an edge of challenge.
Her brother leaned forward, voice low. “You seem like you care about my sister, and so far, I like you. But if you do anything to hurt her…”
“Understood.” The hand on her arm rubbed in a soft caress.
“Zander…” The word a warning. He cared and was overcompensating. But she wasn’t ready to tell Dom about what had happened with Oliver.
Jayne walked into the waiting room. Irisa welcomed the shift in attention. A small square bandage covered her friend’s left temple, and she carried a sheet of paper. “I’m cleared to go home.”
“What did they say?” Zander craned his neck to read the sheet. “Concussion aftercare?”
“Just as a precaution. The doctor told me to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours. It’s good we don’t have a show tomorrow night.”
His fingers gripped the paper. “This also says someone’s supposed to wake you regularly throughout the night.”
Irisa glanced at Dom. As much as she wanted to be with him, her friend needed someone looking after her. “Jayne can stay with me tonight.”
Relief filled her Jayne’s pale features. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“It’s the least I can do.” She doubted she’d be able to sleep anyway. Not with the dread of dealing with damage control hanging over her head.
CHAPTER TWELVE
After a long night spent at the ER, Dom woke exhausted, out of sorts, and reaching for Irisa. The dream version of her faded away, replaced by sunlight streaming in the window at the wrong angle. A glance at the alarm clock confirmed he’d forgotten to set it. Late. He didn’t like to waver from normal routine on game days. Rushing through his shower, breakfast, and feeding and walking Champ helped make up some time.
When he arrived at the stadium, Tim, the facility’s longtime security guard, stopped him in the hall. “Mr. Sanchez wants to see you.”
A summons to the GM’s office usually wasn’t a good thing. He could only guess it had to do with what happened at the bar. “Did Ramon say why?”
“No one tells me anything.”
“Right. Which is why you know everything that goes on around here.”
Tim leaned in closer. “Dusty’s in there with him. That’s all I know.”
A meeting with the manager and the GM. Really not good. “Thanks, man.” He strolled through the halls and nodded at the GM’s secretary. She waved him in.
Both men looked up when he entered the office. Ramon spoke first. “We need to talk, Dom.”
Dom closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”
“Pictures surface of you in a bar fight and you ask us what’s going on?” He angled his computer screen toward Dom. A photo of him and Big Lou, face to face in the parking lot in what looked like a stare-down before a showdown.
“Believe it or not, that guy is a fan. We didn’t fight. It wasn’t as bad as it looks.”
“Well, it looks pretty bad,” Ramon continued. “You’re a veteran. You’re supposed to set an example.”
“I didn’t know anything was going to go down.”
“You shouldn’t be putting yourself in these types of situations. Confrontations at bars…” Dusty’s voice grated on Dom’s nerves. The old man only saw things as black and white—his version of black and white.
Dom’s muscles burned and his hands locked into fists. Not for the first time, he wished for his old manager, for someone who understood the players, and listened to them. Forget Dusty. He turned to address his appeal to Ramon and spoke through gritted teeth. “You’ve known me for five years. I’d think that would count for something.”
“Regardless, this conduct is detrimental to the team. You’re suspended for the weekend series, starting with tonight’s game against Milwaukee. You’re also fined twenty grand. We’re only a month removed from your last on-field altercation. You better lay low and keep a clean profile for the rest of the season.”
What the hell? “Look at every picture. I’m not fighting in any of them. I told you the truth about that biker. Pull up any other photo or video and I’ll explain what was going on.”
“There are enough photos that show you could have left before things became heated. You have a responsibility to this team, whether you’re in uniform or out of it.”
“You should rethink the company you keep, boy.” His manager’s disapproving tone accompanied a wagging finger.
“The company I keep isn’t responsible for what happened,” He snarled. Dusty’s suggestion ticked him off. Then again, Irisa had charged into the fray, which prompted him to charge in after her. But her brand of chaos was way different to the tornado his ex had caused. Irisa wasn’t Natalie. Irisa wasn’t vengeful, spiteful, or self-serving. She was sweet, and sexy, and passionate. Even so, maybe getting involved with someone while he played wasn’t smart. Could he really tell her he needed to slow things down?
Dusty stood and lumbered toward the door. “You already have two strikes against you. You know what happens when you reach three.”
You’re out.
Oliver’s call came while Irisa and Jayne ate lunch. Irisa set aside her sandwich and answered the phone, and then hit the speaker button. “Yes.”
“Irisa, it seems your band had some trouble last night.” Oliver’s voice filled the room.
Some trouble…that was one way to put it. “Tempers flared a bit, but order was quickly restored.”
“Not quickly enough to avoid being caught on camera.”
For as much fighting as they did among themselves, she was proud of the guys for banding together around Luke. “The videos make it look worse than it was.”
“Were any of the guys hurt?” He wasn’t asking because he cared. He was worried about the company’s investment.
“Nothing serious.”
“You need to keep control of y
our band. We don’t want the tour to be marred by poor decisions.”
Rolling her eyes at Jayne, she shook her head. “You don’t have to tell me how to do my job.”
Jayne opened her laptop, then turned the screen toward Irisa. The latest sales figures for the new album.
Mouthing thank you, Irisa pulled the computer closer. “Album sales are going well.”
“Are they? Well, the last few venues we added haven’t sold out yet, and that’s disappointing. I hope the bad press isn’t hurting us.”
“Right. I’m sure they’ll sell out.” She ended the call and turned to Jayne. “How the hell did I ever think he was a good idea?”
“It’s not your fault. He didn’t show anyone his true self until he got what he wanted.” Jayne pulled the laptop back. “Let’s not talk about him, it’ll ruin our digestion. How’s your wrist feeling?”
“A little achy, but I’ll live.” She’d take the slight sprain and wearing a bandage wrap over any amount of time stuck in a cast with a break.
A little while later, Irisa dropped Jayne off at her house with strict instructions not to do anything except read books, watch TV, and rest. They’d made it through the night without any issues, and she wanted to keep it that way.
She met the rest of the band at Zander’s house. They sprawled in different areas of the room they used for practice, but no one held any instruments. “How’s everyone feeling today?”
Zander shrugged. “Fine.”
Brendan touched his ribs. “Got some bruises from last night, but nothing that’ll keep me from drumming.”
“I’m still icing, but should be fine by tomorrow night.” Landry’s knuckles were raw and swollen.
Luke removed the ice pack he’d held to his eye. The bruising around the eye area looked awful. “Now that we’ve all determined everyone’s fine, what’s the word from Excite? Did you have to assure them that their investment was fine?”
“Oliver did ask about your condition, and yes, they’d like you guys to refrain from making poor decisions.”
Her brother cracked a smile. “Really? That’s what Oliver said?”
“I can’t believe Excite keeps him around.” Replacing the pack, Luke laid his head on the back of the couch.
How she wished Excite wouldn’t keep Oliver around. Every time she had to deal with him was a reminder of how naive she’d been. “Take the day off, no practice, just rest. Keeping icing things. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re heading out? I’ll walk you.” Her brother followed her from the room. When they reached his kitchen, he stopped her. “How’s Jayne?”
“She’s okay. Nothing odd. She’s back at her place now. I told her to rest all day, and to skip tomorrow’s show if she needs to.”
“I couldn’t get to her in time.” He shook his head slowly. A muscle in his jaw jumped.
“What are you talking about?”
“Last night, at the bar. The fight started and some guy slammed into her. I saw her going headfirst into the bar and it was like everything was suddenly in slow motion. If I’d been five seconds faster, it wouldn’t have happened.”
His words reminded her of Dom’s. “Is something going on between you two?”
“Something.” He shrugged and tugged his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to call it. She’s different from the other women I’ve dated.”
A burgeoning romance between her brother and her best friend could either be a dream come true or a nightmare if things didn’t work out. She didn’t need something new to worry about. “Just be careful.”
“Don’t say anything to her, okay? It’s too new. No one knows. I don’t want to upset her. Or scare her off.” He looked far more concerned about Jayne than he’d seemed about anything in a long time.
“I promise.” She patted his shoulder. Her phone pinged. If it was Oliver again…
But the text was from Dom.
The team gave me the night off. Are you free?
Free to see him? Free to pick up where they’d left off? Free to take the next step?
This wasn’t a decision to be made in the heat of the moment, but with clear thought and careful consideration. Her heartbeat pounded a staccato beat as she typed her response.
Yes.
Dom received Irisa’s text at the dog park with Champ.
Yes.
A simple word, but teeming with meaning. His body tightened. He hustled home. So much to do. Shoveling dishes and dust out of the way, making his cave inviting, and maybe giving Champ a bath…
When he stepped into the lobby, his past stared him in the face.
Blonde, blue-eyed, and artificially enhanced, Natalie strode toward him. “Dom.”
Champ growled and strained forward, testing the leash’s strength. Dom wanted to growl, too. “What are you doing here?”
“I need a favor…”
Narrowing his gaze, he shook his head. After the way they’d parted, her asking for a favor took a lot of nerve.
She shifted on her mile-high shoes. “I’ve seen you photographed with Irisa Rostov.”
“And?”
“I thought I’d try my hand at singing. I made a demo.” She held out an envelope. “I was hoping you’d pass it along to her. You know, for old times’ sake.”
“You come at me out of the blue and expect me to hand this over to her?” He shook his head. “Not happening. Go through the proper channels like everyone else.”
She pouted. “It’s who you know that gets you ahead in life. I might never get a response if I have to submit it like everyone else.”
“And you don’t know anyone else in the music industry?” He found that hard to believe. She’d been a model, a reality show contestant, and, as of their breakup, a B-movie starlet.
“Not anyone connected with Excite Records.” She came closer, a practiced smile on her lips.
The dog growled and tugged on his leash. Champ had never liked her.
Her brows lifted. “Come on. Please?”
Champ growled again. Dom glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t want Irisa walking into the lobby and seeing him standing with Natalie. She might get the wrong idea. “You should have called instead of just showing up. How did you even find out where I was?”
“We still have some mutual friends. I didn’t think you’d agree to see me if I called and told you what I wanted.”
“You were right.”
“Dom.” She pouted again. “Just because we didn’t work out isn’t any reason to hold a grudge.”
“You stole my college championship ring and sold it to pay for your boob job and tummy tuck.” He’d had to pay double to get his treasured ring back.
“Do this favor for me. I won’t ask for another.”
The desperation in her voice could have been real, but he couldn’t trust anything regarding her. He remembered Adam relaying Gemma’s troubles with breaking into the acting business. But Natalie wasn’t Gemma. Gemma was sweet and supportive. Under all the layers of trying too hard, Natalie was a calculating opportunist who desperately wanted to be noticed. He just wanted her gone. “No.”
“What can I do to convince you? I can stay here all day. I’ve got the time.” She would, too. What if she ran into Irisa? He could see her sidling up, claiming to be his old friend…
“I’ll think about it. No promises.”
She squealed and threw her arms around him, and her cloud of perfume nearly choked him. Squeezing him tight, she pressed in close. “Thank you.”
“Whoa. That’s enough.” Dom disengaged himself from her embrace. Champ growled and barked and pushed between them. Guiding the dog back a careful distance, Dom pointed to the lobby door. “You should go.”
“I won’t forget this.” She blew him a kiss, then turned and strutted through the lobby and out into the sunshine. He shook his head and walked into the elevator.
The brown envelope crinkled in his fist. He didn’t want his prior relationship touching any parts of his current
one. He strode through his apartment to the trash can in the kitchen. But his hand hesitated over the open lid. Just trashing it seemed wrong. Then again, she hadn’t cared about his feelings much at all during their relationship. He should trash it. She would, if the situation were reversed, unless she found an angle to her advantage. He dropped it in the can. Conscience kicked in, and he pulled it back out. He’d mail it back to her and tell her to try another route, one that didn’t involve him.
Her scent still clung to him, making his skin crawl. He stripped and dropped everything in a heap in his bedroom and jumped in the shower. Hot water pounded against his skin and he soaped up twice, scrubbing his body harder than when trying to rid himself of dirt and grim after a game.
The run-in with Natalie reinforced how special Irisa was. For the first time in a long time, he’d met someone who made him feel happy, and that feeling seemed mutual. Forget telling her they needed to slow down. No way would he let her go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Irisa spent the afternoon shopping for lingerie, then indulged in a long bath and pampered her skin with lotions. She slipped on her favorite dress, a deep blue shift that made her skin glow, and enough jewelry to make her smile. A cluster of thin bangle bracelets hid a good portion of her wrist bandage.
Dom was waiting for her when the elevator doors opened on his floor. Nerves charged through her, little electric pulses jumbling in her blood.
“You look beautiful.” He reached out a hand for her. His gray shirt and dark jeans fit like they were custom-made. Maybe they were. Ordinary wasn’t enough for this extraordinary man. “Come in.”
The apartment seemed brighter and bigger than it had on her last visit. Furniture polish and something else, like clean linen, lingered in the air.
Deep barking preceded Champ’s entrance into the room. Dom grabbed his collar before he could leap on her. She reached down and rubbed his head. “Hi, boy.” In response, Champ licked her knee.
“It’s wrong that he got to kiss you before I did.” Dom guided the dog to the hallway and pointed. “Go to your room.” Champ trotted away.
Captivated Page 9