“Fred. Fred fucking Wigginton?” Jake belted, pushing off my car. “What the hell?”
My eyes darted between the two. “You guys…know each other?”
“Know each other? Shit. We played fucking Little League together since we were four years old,” he remarked.
“Oh,” I said in a strangled voice. “How…nice.”
“In fact, I’ve known a couple of these guys for years,” Jake added as Fred got his buddies to lay off. They hung back, relaxing near their jacked-up cars. He approached us and I tensed, shrinking back in my seat. The other men standing at the ready with guns were clearly with some gang affiliation and ready to keep this up. They all stared back at Jake with a range of expressions.
“Fred, what the fuck is this?” Jake asked. “You’re robbing people for money now? You that hard up?”
They moved away toward the front of my car, and I couldn’t hear a darn thing they were saying, but their body language was all casual and friendly-like.
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe it. Jake was a shady-as-hell character, a one-in-a-million underdog story. He knew the worst of the underworld but had risen above it. My PR brain was firing in the face of this nightmare. Well, wouldn’t Steve be proud at how dedicated I was until the very end?
They did some sort of bro-thing hug, and Fred was nodding as he and Jake shared more words I couldn’t hear.
“That’s more fucking like it,” Jake said loudly, taking my purse from Fred’s hand. “Now get these damn cars outta the way.”
Jake turned to me as the cars disappeared like magic. I got out of my car, bewildered and shaken up, but relieved. I took a step toward Jake. He wrapped his arm around me, and goosebumps came over my entire body as I rested my head against his chest.
So this is what it feels like to have a guy who made a horrible situation go away? He got bonus points for making me feel delicate. Unfortunately, he released me.
“So…um, you grew up with those guys. Wow. They’re so different from you though.”
Jake’s light brown eyes glinted under the light of the street lamp. His expression was dead serious.
“That’s the scary thing, actually. I’m not much different from any of those guys,” he said grimly. “We all grew up in the same mile radius, went to the same shitty public schools, and came from messed up families. The only difference is that God gave me the gift of being able to throw a fastball one hundred miles per hour. The truth is, if I hadn’t had baseball as my out, I might be in their shoes. Hell, we even have the same—”
He cut himself off suddenly and looked at me with his lips pressed tightly together.
“The same what?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
“Nothing,” he said in a snippy way that told me the conversation thread had come to a close.
I swallowed hard as my heart broke for Jake. I could tell he was struggling with admitting an unpleasant truth to me, and maybe even to himself.
I extended my arm and wrapped it around his bicep. I made sure he was looking right into my eyes as I spoke. “Hey. It’s not your fault. You realize that, don’t you?”
He chuckled, attempting to brush off my attempt at seriousness with humor. “Honestly, is anything anybody’s fault?”
I gripped his bicep a little harder. “No. I mean, seriously, Jake. You didn’t deserve to grow up the way you did. It’s not your fault. You have to realize that, don’t you? Your talent isn’t what got you out—it was you.”
He shook his head at me, almost sadly. “There’s a lot about me you don’t want to know,” he said ominously. “Trust me. It’s best that no one ever know.”
I could tell Jake was uncomfortable from the way he was squirming. He’d had to deal with stuff that I could only imagine. But I understood one thing. There wasn’t anything more uncomfortable than confronting those ugly, dirty truths about yourself. Especially your past.
Our moment was over. I could see it on his face, and I let it go, because pushing Jake would be useless, and frankly, I needed a moment to think and process everything that had happened this evening.
“I’m following you home,” he said. His tone brooked no argument as he handed me my unharmed purse. But he gave me a quick smile. “Need to make sure no other bad shit happens to your pretty ass at this hour.”
My pretty ass, I thought as I got inside the car. My mom would have a fit if she heard how many F-bombs Jake dropped on a regular basis. Yet something deep inside me drew me to him. It’d started at dinner, seeing him with Tate. Knowing there was more to him. I thought about Grant, how I’d thought the same things, but this was different. Grant had never been gentle, or vulnerable. He’d just wanted what he wanted, and I knew he hadn’t factored me in his world. Somehow, me in Jake’s world…it mattered. And that scared me in new and different ways. Despite my weariness, I saw a glimpse into Jake that touched me. After tonight, it wouldn’t be anything but personal for me, too.
It’s probably why I didn’t object at all when he offered to tail me home. Besides, if there were any more of these situations, I might need his pretty ass.
My heart hadn’t beat so hard in ages. The last time I’d felt like this, I’d been in the World Series.
Thank God she’d been able to text me her location before things got out of hand. I didn’t even want to think about what could have happened had I arrived another minute later.
I’d wanted to knock all of those gangbangers’ teeth out. Seeing that text from Andrea just as I’d dropped off Tate had made my blood boil. I was still on an adrenaline high, still ready for a fight. That feral and protective side had been dormant for some time, and when I got really angry, I took out all of my physical aggression on the baseball field. But there was no denying that inside me—although it had been buried for some time—was a monster.
The whole incident had brought up parts of my past that I’d tried to block out for years. It made me think of when my sister and I would walk home together from middle school, back to whichever foster home we were staying at. We’d take different routes every day so we could avoid the wigged-out gangbangers who were looking for someone to beat up. But sometimes, somehow, they’d find us and stop us. I’d tell Eva to run home while I stayed behind and either took the obligatory beating if I was greatly outnumbered, or beat the crap out of whoever it was that was giving us shit.
It wasn’t pretty, but standing up to them was the only way you could gain their respect. But sometimes, I’d gone too far, because I just couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop the anger, and I hadn’t cared if they had to limp back home. I’d broken guys’ jaws, knocked teeth out, and even had a couple of blunt object fights that I’d prefer to think never happened.
But the fact was, those things had happened. They were a part of me and my upbringing. Andrea had now—for better or worse—gotten a glimpse into my shady, fucked-up past.
Though it would have been possible to knock all of those guys out—I was glad I hadn’t unleashed my temper in front of Andrea.
I slapped myself in the face as I rode behind her to remind myself of the point. If something would have happened to Andrea, I would have unleashed the wrath on those guys. I would have become the guy I had been in high school—the one who did terrible things to people.
But it didn’t get ugly. I didn’t unleash.
I was Chicago’s loveable star pitcher frat bro, and that was how things needed to stay. I was going to have to make Andrea understand how this campaign was going down. Maybe I could become a slightly cleaner version of my current social media image, but I wasn’t about to allow for a complete overhaul. That would mean a complete survey of my life up to this point, and there were some things that were just better left locked up.
We took a north side exit, turned off the main street, and pulled onto a side street. She lived in Logan Square, which was a new thriving hipster area in the northwest part of Chicago. It was safe in some parts but sketchy if you turned down the wrong street, which Andrea seemed
to have a penchant for.
On the end of the block there were a couple of open spots. She pulled into one, and I pulled up right behind her and put my car into park. I jumped out, and we walked together to her building, a large three-story house that had been cut up into apartments. I walked her up the porch and to the door of her place.
She opened the screen door and stood there under the porch lights as she looked into her purse for her key. “So, uh, what happened back there?” she asked, clearing her voice when it shook just a little bit. “I don’t mean to pry. But it seemed odd how easy it was for you to diffuse the situation. How do you know those guys?”
I shrugged. “Like I said, Fred and I go way back,” I tossed back at her. A vague answer, but this wasn’t an area of my life that I felt like unpacking.
She looked up then quickly back down. “Oh?” she asked, very carefully. “Has he always moonlighted as a robber?”
Shit. On the other hand, she had a right to know what happened, and a part of me wanted her to understand…me. Understand how this city worked, even if it wasn’t pretty. And she didn’t seem like she was prying because she wanted to dig up dirt on me. Her soft eyes gazed up at me, and I could feel her curiosity seeping through. She wasn’t a fangirl trying to cozy up to Jake the celebrity. She simply wanted to know a part of my life. Even so, I obeyed my natural instinct, which was to close off, and gave her another non-answer. “I, uh, told him I wouldn’t turn him or his buddies in if they left and called it a night.”
She nodded. “They got it easy,” she said, anger inching into her voice.
I got it. I did, but I also understood Fred; his desperation had been painful to hear. He was hurting so bad. He looked like he was on drugs, but he was working so many jobs to support his family and still barely making it. “It’s hard to explain, but I understand why they do what they do. I don’t agree with it. I wish I could say something that would change their minds about ever doing anything like that again, but this city isn’t kind to people, Andrea. You grew up in a small, protected town. Your life growing up was different. Here, this is a jungle. Death is part of the landscape of this city. Crime is just a business. It’s not personal.” I paused. “Anyway…I got their plate numbers, too. I know someone, a friend of mine in the PD. He’s a good man, he’ll check up on them to make sure these guys don’t do more harm.”
At this, she bit her lower lip and nodded again. “I’m not trying to judge, Jake. But…that was terrifying, and I can’t really see them as normal people. I just see them as criminals.”
Hearing Andrea say that sent a shiver through my entire body. If Andrea found out the truth about how I knew them, she’d never see me the same. I tried to explain as best as I could. “And they are. And they’re people, too. People who made bad decisions or didn’t know how to make the right choices. It’s not an excuse. It’s just the world we live in. But it’s not clear-cut. Nothing is ever simple.”
She gave me a long look. “This is your city,” she said, digging back into her purse. “So you’d know.”
I nodded, slowly. This was my city, and some things were exactly the same, and other times, I had no idea what I was doing. “Some days, I wonder if being traded to the Jaguars was a mistake.” I glanced at the intercom speaker and saw Andrea’s name listed on the third floor. “But then I realized there’s no other city I’d rather live in. In spite of all the ugly things that happen here, I love this town.”
“Well,” Andrea said softly. “I for one am glad you were traded.”
I gazed at her, but her eyes were downcast. Girls had no idea how much the normal shit they did could leave a man mesmerized. I liked that I didn’t tower over her. I liked that she wore her glasses in front of me, and I liked seeing her just being her. I liked that she didn’t pepper me with questions with Tate there at the diner. I wasn’t going to lie, I liked her body too. My eyes moved from her eyes to her t-shirt that was tucked into her jeans, and they lingered on her hips for—shit, could have been a whole minute. I couldn’t look away as I took in her whole body and face. I noticed I was licking my lips and—honest to God—wondered what our kid would look like for just a moment.
I liked the idea of me and Andrea. Like here, now. It was nice to just be still, to do something normal after shaking off a very scary moment.
What I really wanted to do was put my hands all over her, but I fucking couldn’t. Me, Jake Napleton, the man who’d hooked up with not one, but two Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders shamelessly, was utterly frozen and unable to make a move on Andrea as she kept rummaging through her purse.
“You’re not going to believe this,” she said, turning to me with worried eyes. “I think your friend Fred either has my house keys or dropped them when he was going through my purse.”
“You don’t keep your house keys with your car keys?” I asked, glad for the reprieve.
She gave me a long-suffering glare. “Of course, but my Prius is keyless. If my key ring—with my fob, house key, and other keys—was dropped within range, I can still start my car. So it was probably right there, and I didn’t even realize it.”
Right. “You don’t have an extra?” I asked, and she scowled at my tone.
She rubbed her eyes, pushing her glasses off. “In my house and in my locked drawer at work. Damn!”
“Wow, damn,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood. “I didn’t know you could swear.”
“Shut up.” She smiled and punched me in the arm. “But seriously. I’m screwed. How do I get in?”
I walked from one side of the front porch to the other, examining it for weak points. It wasn’t like this would be my first break-and-enter.
“I mean, we could definitely break in,” I said. “But it would involve a rock and a window.”
She looked at me, grinding her teeth. “Are you kidding me? That’ll get me kicked out of here real fast.”
She gave me a look I couldn’t decipher. I raised a brow. “What?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she said, weariness in her eyes, “but can I spend the night at your place? I can call my super tomorrow morning to let me in my apartment. I could call my friend Amy, but she’s probably sleeping by now. And I don’t have many friends in the city yet.”
I felt my cock grow in my pants at the thought of sleeping in the same apartment as Andrea. Without saying a word, I stuck my arm out like I had on our first date—I mean, non-date—at Marseille Club. I smiled at her.
She took my arm and I led her to my car.
Sometimes, one action is worth ten thousand words.
I, for one, felt like the luckiest fucking guy in town.
With the hottest fucking girl in the city.
If I could have been with any girl in the world that night, it would have been her.
I opened the door and closed it when she got in.
My mother would kill me if she could have taken a snapshot of my life right now—me heading to a man’s house to spend the night. My mother meant well, but she’d kept me and my brothers under such a careful eye that getting out of Sugar Tree had been the only thing I’d wanted. It was almost like escaping. And yet, she may always haunt me.
I shrugged off the feeling of her watchfulness. Why did I feel so indebted to her, like I had to live my life with her kind of lens? This was fate intervening, I decided. Fate was telling me that I had to spend the night at this man’s place. And I’d only known him for less than a week.
Well, at least I’d known about him for many years.
But after tonight, I felt like I really knew him. I got Jake Napleton. And I doubted that many other people had seen this side of him.
“You did really well,” Jake said, glancing over at me. “Back there with Fred and his…friends.”
I leaned back in my seat, staring down at the road. “Thanks, I guess,” I said, trying to get the picture of the gun pointed at me out of my head, remembering how surreal that whole moment had been. “I was just so scared, and shocked. I couldn’t re
act at all.”
He had his iPod synced to his stereo, playing some 80s music on low that I wouldn’t have thought he listened to. It was nice though, and I listened to Michael Jackson sing about the man in the mirror. He had the AC off, and the vents blew in nice summer evening air.
“Don’t think about it,” Jake said softly, his arm resting between us on the armrest. “Put it behind you. It’s over now, and I won’t let anything else happen. I promise.”
Yeah, I so totally wanted to forget it. Somehow, with Jake telling me to, I could. Already, I felt the fear ebb away, because he made me feel safe. That warm, fuzzy feeling floated through me. It was the first time that a guy had come to my defense, and it was a quaint feeling. I’d never needed saving before, but it felt nice, being taken care of. To know Jake had that potential was startling.
For the rest of the ride, we didn’t talk. We didn’t need to. I sat next to him in his car and did everything I could to resist slipping my hand up his muscular arm. He wore a shirt with a white body and blue sleeves, and the sleeves were so tight on his biceps, I thought they might splice open at any time.
Up close, the man was a gem. My hero tonight. I watched him while his light-brown eyes focused intently on the road ahead. He was a man who rarely spoke, but when he did, people listened. I listened. Everyone freaking listened. That was both good and bad.
And despite his reputation of being a womanizing fighter who played dirty on the mound, someone who cared about nothing more than getting hammered and intimidating his opponents by any means necessary, I wanted Jake Napleton.
I couldn’t help it. I was nearly salivating watching him drive. Just driving. Good God! What would I think if I had seen him do something I actually found hot? Like beating people up. For me.
Okay, I knew it was a bad fantasy. But when Jake had arrived, I knew he’d do whatever it took to make sure I didn’t get hurt. That meant a lot to me. When I’d texted him, he’d come right away. No hesitation, no fear.
“Jake, I don’t know if I said this, but—” I stopped, wanting to say so many things. Then I thought how absolutely absurd it was that I could think these intense thoughts and feelings in just a few days. I’d heard of instant attraction, but had never experienced it until now. “Uh, thanks,” was all that came out. “Thanks for coming back for me. You pretty much saved my life.”
Playing Dirty: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Page 10