I returned the water pitcher to the counter and gave him the finger. “Why, Mr. Bailey, I didn’t have you down on the schedule for today. If you’d told me you were planning a visit, I would have asked the hookers to join us for dinner.”
He clapped me on the shoulder affectionately and reached for the glass in my hand. “Allow me. Now, be honest, Grandpa. Are you taking advantage of the early bird special? Because Viagra ain’t cheap!”
Several patients scowled in his direction, but as usual, Bailey was utterly oblivious to them. I set aside my annoyance and mustered a small smile. It wasn’t his fault I’d spent the better part of the afternoon wanting to put a fist-sized hole through the wall for… well, I had my reasons.
I shrugged. “Cafeteria closes at seven, so it’s not like I have a choice.”
“Christ, seems a bit barbaric. Isn’t what’s-his-face running this?” He asked as he followed me over to an empty table, snapping his fingers repetitively. “The football player? Fuck, I can’t remember his name, but you know who I’m talking about. He signed off on this early dinner bullshit?”
I nodded and leaned my crutches against the wall before joining him. “Look around you, man. I think it’s safe to assume most of these patients are probably in bed by six.”
“Now, tell your Uncle Conor…” He fluttered his lashes. “Are the nurses at least treating you nicely—rolling out the red carpet for the most coveted free agent the sport has ever seen?”
Bailey surveyed the cafeteria, simultaneously fidgeting with a saltshaker and bouncing up and down in his seat. There were times I found his inability to sit still exhausting—but right now, I welcomed the reminder I had a life outside of this place, even if it no longer felt like it.
I knew the ‘most coveted’ bit was little more than candy-coated bullshit, but let it bolster my confidence anyway.
Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when he flashed a manic grin and began making a jerking-off motion with his hand as if I hadn’t known exactly what he was implying when he’d mentioned the nurses.
“Everything’s fine,” I quickly answered, putting a stop to his obscene gesture. “What brought you out this way?”
“Figured I had nothing better to do—” He slammed his hand on the table and boomed, “I’m kidding! Maybe I missed your ugly mug and wanted to catch up. And it’s a damn good thing I did. What’s this—what’s going on with you?”
I returned the saltshaker to the center of the table, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing. Just trying to get out of here—”
“Bullshit.” He leaned back in the chair, scratching his beard with his thumb. “Your energy is shit right now. What have they done to you, man?”
Not them—her.
My attempts to help Ari had only succeeded in dredging up long-buried memories from my past. It seemed she had more in common with my mama than I’d initially realized—a mistake I swore I wouldn’t make again.
Can’t save a woman who doesn’t want to be rescued.
I massaged the back of my neck with a tight smile. “I’m just ready to be back. Listen, has the team—I mean, have you heard anything—”
Proving it just wasn’t my year, the lights suddenly dimmed, and my train of thought zipped on out of the station, leaving me behind on the platform.
Staff members moved about the room, depositing electric candles in the center of the tables while the soft strains of a violin filtered through the speakers.
Bailey rubbed his hands together with another low chuckle, no doubt imagining all the ways the situation could be used against me in the near future. “You didn’t tell me about the romantic dinners, you bastard,” he beamed, lowering the chair legs back to the floor.
As for me—well, I’d suddenly remembered why I’d gotten into the habit of eating in my room on Friday nights.
“Welcome to Restaurant Night,” the director called from the front of the room. “You’ll find your menus in the center of the table. Take a minute to look them over, and someone will be by shortly to get your order.”
“See, it’s just Restaurant Nigh—”
He roughly smacked my shoulder with the back of his hand, eyes lighting up. I followed his stare and exhaled an agitated breath.
Christ.
Ari mirrored a newborn calf as she traipsed into the cafeteria, arms thrust out in front of her and clutching that damned notebook. She was wearing heels at least two sizes too big and seemed dangerously close to tipping over with every wobbled step. A scowling nurse followed closely behind, gripping the gait belt around Ari’s waist like a leash.
I slowly shook my head as I eyed her ensemble, unable to look away from the gravity-defying red hair piled on top of her head in a series of elaborate loops and twists.
It was like staring at a grotesque caricature of a 1950s housewife, complete with the harvest gold apron tied at the waist of her checkered house dress.
“What in the actual hell?” Bailey snorted, before slapping a hand over his mouth.
Ari lifted her chin to scan the room, her mouth curving into a wide smile when she spotted me. The expression dimmed slightly when she realized I wasn’t alone but, instead of turning around, she lifted her hand and began staggering in our direction.
Lips, now stained a garish shade of red that hadn’t entirely remained within the lines, pursed in concentration as she shuffled the last remaining feet to the table.
“Ari,” I asked gently, carefully keeping my face blank. “What are you doing?”
She parted her lips, but there was no sound, and her heavily rouged cheeks grew darker with a blush that would have been visible in any light.
I gave her an understanding nod and slowly slid my hand across the table like she was a wild animal in need of calming, not a woman who was clearly afraid.
Not that I knew the first thing about handling either.
She hugged the notebook to her chest like a shield, ruling out any possibility of a written explanation for the costume. I pressed my lips together and swallowed, trying to ease the sudden need to fix things.
C’mon, Reed. Help her.
“Did you—”
“Want to join us? I think that’s a great idea,” Bailey interjected as he jumped to his feet. “Here, allow me to get your chair for you.”
I’d been about to ask if she needed something—in no realm had I planned on subjecting the poor woman to a man who hadn’t matured past the age of twelve.
She cast him a veiled glance and mouthed, thank you.
He waited until she was seated before extending his hand. “Ari, is it? Since Reed here is an uncultured buffoon, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Conor Bailey, but if you’re more comfortable, you can refer to me as Barnum. Get it? Like the Ringling Brothers?”
“Sit down,” I growled irritably. A hot poker of rage tore through my flesh like butter, jabbing the area behind my eyes until all I saw was red. I should have known it was beyond Bailey to keep his mouth shut.
And, I suddenly wanted to put fist-sized holes in more than just the drywall…
However, as Ari was clearly out of sorts and prone to fainting, I avoided launching myself at my teammate and pulled back to take a deep breath.
Whoa there, Reed. No need to make things worse than they already were.
Bailey held his palms up in surrender, before stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Sorry, sorry. Just trying to get to know your friend here. Although, if you’d introduced us like a proper gentleman, none of this would’ve happened.”
“Fine,” I conceded.
The side of his mouth lifted in a grin as he redirected his focus back to Ari. “So, tell me,” he said, completely poker-faced. “Is this your first circus?”
I dropped my fist to the table with a dull thud, muttering, “That’s enough.”
His smile slipped, and he jerked his chin in a stiff nod. “Okay, point taken. No need to bite my damn head off just because you’ve got your panties in a bunch.”
Perhaps
my reaction was a tad on the defensive side. There was no denying Ari’s makeup made her look a bit like a clown in the circus. So, maybe she’d gotten into some psychedelic drugs before getting dressed for dinner. She was still a nice girl who’d already dealt with one asshole today—two if I was including myself.
She blew out her cheeks and scribbled something in the notebook before meeting my gaze.
You look very nice.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, my pulse slowed considerably as I read it, restoring my vision to its factory settings. “Thank you. You look—well, you look different.”
Her soft smile fell into a wince, and I belatedly realized what I’d said hadn’t come out sounding like much of a compliment.
She pressed a hand to her chest.
Is this not okay? Would you prefer I wear something else?
My mouth went dry. I lowered my gaze to where Ari’s fingers had settled along the swell of her breasts. The dress was as modest as it was hideous, giving absolutely no indication to the woman underneath. Was this the real her, or was she buried somewhere underneath the layers of polyester?
I squeezed my eyes shut as images of Ari flooded my brain, the byproduct of years of visualization exercises. I’d start by swiping the lipstick off using my thumb before planting a soft kiss to the dimple beside her mouth.
It wasn’t enough.
I needed her naked and sprawled out before me like a feast. My fingers threading through every strand of her long hair until fanned out around her face like an auburn halo. I wanted to see those green eyes blaze with need as I tasted the salt on her skin, bringing her to pleasure again… and again… and—Goddammit.
She had me all over the place.
“Wear whatever you want,” I snapped, ignoring Bailey’s amused stare as I ran a hand over my face and tried clearing my head.
I bet she’d taste like the ocean.
Great, and with that, my dick was scrambling to get out of the dugout and into the on-deck circle.
Who was the bigger asshole now?
Ari suddenly exhaled several short bursts of air, sounding as though she was trying to fog up a window.
Good one. You are so funny.
My mind went ninety to nothing as I studied the words and her seemingly fake smile, trying to figure out what it was I’d missed. Nothing about any of this seemed humorous.
Bailey leaned in, shockingly unaffected by the fact that we’d gone back in time. “It’s pretty clear you went to a lot of trouble for tonight. I hope you didn’t do this for him. Trust me, he’s not worth this level of—” He gestured toward her face. “Whatever you’re calling this.”
A woman should always look her best for a man.
O-o-o-okay…
So, Ari had gone a bit cuckoo since lunch. But, on the bright side, I could scratch the cold shower off my to-do list.
Bailey tried stepping in as a pinch hitter, but when his hand moved to cover Ari’s possessively, I was no longer considering how to make it up to him. No, in a completely irrational turn of events, I began imagining how I could ruin his pretty-boy face.
“Got a minute, pal?” I clipped out, the muscle in my jaw twitching.
“Nope, sorry,” he responded easily as he raised the menu, not sounding the slightest bit remorseful. “I haven’t decided what to order yet. I could do the chopped steak, but then again, there’s chicken parm. Decisions, decisions. Do you know—can we speak to the chef beforehand?”
I tensed, feeling my pulse in my eyelids. “You aren’t staying for dinner.”
Before things could devolve into further chaos, a woman I didn’t recognize leaned over from the table beside ours, gesturing to Ari. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I might have a quick word with you, dear?”
Ari nodded and pushed back from the table, clearly just as eager as I was to call it a night. Maybe it was for the best we end this before things got any worse.
“Now, you two boys make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be right back.” Even though she had to be pushing seventy, the woman tapped her index finger against my nose, a smile dancing on her lips.
I watched Ari teeter out of the cafeteria, resembling a drunk trying to pass a field sobriety test before turning my attention back to Bailey.
He absently chewed on his bottom lip while frowning down at the menu. “I don’t see the drinks listed. We’ll have to ask for that menu. Right now, I’m leaning toward the chicken parm, but I really want to ensure they have something that’ll pair nicely with it, you know—like a golden lager, maybe?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled.
“You’re absolutely right.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Who passes up the chopped steak? Meat and potatoes, Reed. Meat and potatoes.”
“No—she has a brain injury,” I snapped, slapping my palm against the table to punctuate each word, hoping to permeate his thick skull. “And you just—you were just an asshole—”
“I was,” he readily agreed, lowering the menu. “That’s definitely my bad. But, in my defense, you didn’t exactly speak up. Kinda like—oh, I don’t know—how you failed to mention the fact that you were into her?”
“What?” I choked. “I’m not anything with her. Christ, what kind of an asshole—you know what, don’t answer that.”
Bailey reached for my water glass and drained it with an indifferent shrug. “What’s the big deal? You’re both consenting adults. Wait—” He paused, his brows snapping together in suspicion. “Just wait a fucking minute—you’re not still on that whole purity kick, are you? Oh, you are, it’s written all over your face!”
I lowered my voice in warning. “That’s not what we’re discussing here. You’re proposing I sleep with a woman who is recovering from a brain injury.”
“Well, clearly she’s got a brain injury if she’s interested in you,” he deadpanned.
“Which she is not,” I added, scanning the room for any unwanted eavesdroppers.
Bailey cocked his head to the side, the smirk on his face fading instantly. “You don’t see it? Who do you think she got all dolled up for, Reed? Wasn’t me or anyone of these geezers, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Just drop it,” I pleaded, massaging the back of my neck. My watch vibrated. I lowered my arm, exhaling a bitter laugh as I read the text.
Dad-
Tried calling and got no answer. You around?
Right on cue.
I was more likely to skip dinner in favor of a grueling session with Rocky than I was to text my father back. Hell, I would have taken being interrogated by Bailey in a locked room over another lecture on how I wasn’t living up to my potential.
“Look, I’m just saying—as your friend and teammate—it’s my job to call it like I see it.” Bailey crossed his legs and clasped his hands behind his head, almost resembling a therapist, were it not for the incessant jiggling of his foot. “It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly. And I’m telling you now, that girl imagined you naked at least once since she sat down. Trust me, a man knows these things.”
The man knew jack shit.
“You picked up on that without her having to say a single word? That’s—well, that must have taken some skill. Although, if imagining me in my birthday suit is our only criterion, I reckon we could fill the whole damn ballpark with ‘love-struck’ women.”
His lips twitched. “We’re gonna need a bigger stadium.”
“Seriously? This is no different than the time you gave my room key to that hotel bartender because you felt a vibe between us. Just let it die, Bailey,” I said tightly, pushing the hair off my forehead. My heart lurched in my chest, clearly siding with my teammate on the matter.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He tipped the chair back again, smirking like he had all the answers.
At least one of us did.
“Now, I’m willing to overlook the makeup—”
I tensed. “She doesn’t normally wear any—”
“I don’t want to,” I grumbled while picking at my fingernails.
“Alright, alright,” Bailey sighed dramatically. “Stop begging already. I’ll tell you. You ready for the bombs of truth Uncle Conor’s about to drop?”
“Not really. I lost interest about ten minutes ago.”
“Here goes—” He brought the chair back down with a loud scrape and leaned in to rest his forearms on the table. “I don’t think that woman has the slightest clue who you are. And that, my surly little friend, is why she’s not like the others.”
A smirk tugged at my lips as I prepared to blow Bailey’s theory out of the water. In fact, I was somewhat looking forward to watching his face crumple as I told him of Ari’s little autograph attempt.
I don’t even know you.
My shoulders sagged, and I released a harsh breath.
“Knew it!” Bailey punched the air with a victorious growl.
I put my head in my hands and stared blankly at the table while my brain played a riveting game of emotional pinball. Ari didn’t know who I was, which should have been good news, but it only made her even more off-limits.
Like red tape and orange cones off-limits.
The girl was trying to recover from an injury. The last thing she needed was the press ripping her to shreds for dating a celebrity. That wasn’t even getting into her innocent nature, something other women would no doubt exploit as a way of getting closer to me.
I cut my eyes over to the empty doorway before turning back to Bailey.
“Dude, she’s not coming back,” he remarked as he unfolded himself from the chair. “I say we go ahead and order hers to-go. And, unless you want to eat alone, you should consider doing the same. I’d love to stay and watch you mope, but I just remembered I have a prior engagement.”
Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two Page 13