Hardball

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Hardball Page 24

by Sykes, V. K.


  Morehouse gently put both hands on the injured shoulder. “Well, I can’t help you with your love life, so let me see what I can do with the shoulder.”

  He gave Nate a thorough examination, putting the shoulder through a full range of motions, pushing and probing for what seemed like an eternity.

  The shoulder had felt better to Nate every day, and the pain was now fully under control. But he still worried about what the doctor would say. He especially dreaded the thought of hearing the words we’re going to send you to Birmingham to see the specialist. That was equivalent to saying: see you at spring training next year. Or even worse.

  “You can put the shirt back on.” Morehouse picked up his pen and started to write.

  Nate gritted his teeth. “So, what’s the verdict?”

  Morehouse looked up and smiled. “I’ve never seen anyone with this injury heal any faster.”

  Nate realized he’d been holding his breath. He let it go in a rush. “Jesus, that’s a relief. How soon?”

  The doctor knew exactly what he meant. “I’d say four or five more days of physio and aquatherapy, and then we can get you out on the field for some soft tossing.”

  Nate almost choked with relief. “Thank God.” There would be at least a couple of rehab starts in the minors after that, but it looked like he’d be able to pitch again for the Patriots in a couple of weeks.

  It felt like a miracle.

  But his elation subsided quickly as he returned to the clubhouse for his physio session with Jones. He should have been dancing on air. Instead, his mind had turned immediately back to Holly, and what he was going to say to her when he called. What she would say to him.

  It felt like a drawbridge had gone up and an iron gate had slammed down on their relationship, leaving him standing on the wrong side of the moat.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Holly’s heart skipped a beat when Nate’s ID popped up on her call display. Several beats, actually, and she had to dig deep for a breath before she answered.

  “Hello,” she said, struggling to hide her emotions. She’d thought endlessly about what to say if he called, but the reality sucked the words from her brain.

  “Hi, Holly. Still hate me?” he said in a light-hearted voice that sounded totally fake.

  “Of course I don’t hate you. Why would you even say something like that?” Holly winced at the harshness of her tone, but couldn’t believe that those were his first words.

  He exhaled loudly, his frustration bleeding through over the phone. “Hey, don’t start off like this. I’ve got a lot of pride, too.”

  Holly’s throat closed as she struggled to respond, to figure out the right thing to say. Her brain felt frozen, and she hated that. Never had she felt less in control over her emotions.

  “It took a lot for me to pick up the phone,” he added.

  “I know.” She sounded tight and unyielding, but that was because she was trying to keep her voice from quavering. She hated that, too.

  “I know you think I let you down,” he said. “And I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. But the way I look at it, things have been way too good between us to throw everything over without giving it another try. Around twenty-four hours ago, everything was still aces between us. Don’t you think we should talk about it some more?”

  Holly hesitated. Of course she wanted to talk to him. She was dying to see him again, to have him hold her again. But she couldn’t bear a rehash of yesterday’s horrible confrontation. “Not if it doesn’t accomplish anything. It’ll just hurt too much,” she said softly.

  “Okay, I get that. But we can’t fix this situation if we don’t talk. I don’t want to lose you, Holly. Not like this. Let’s have dinner, okay? Just dinner. I promise.”

  A fluttering of hope pulsed somewhere in the vicinity of her heart, easing the ache just a bit. At least he’d said he didn’t want to lose her. Maybe that was a start.

  “All right,” she said. “Dinner.” She was terrified of being hurt again, but it wouldn’t be right to turn him down cold. Not when he seemed to be genuinely trying.

  “Fantastic,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

  “Just dinner,” she emphasized. They needed to talk, not get distracted by sexual chemistry.

  “That’s what I said, right? We’ll eat and we’ll talk, that’s all. You love Japanese food, so why don’t I take you back to Takarazuka?”

  She did love that restaurant. They’d shared a wildly romantic meal there early in their relationship, enjoying the wonderful Japanese cuisine but barely able to keep their hands off each other. Holly’s body started to respond as she recalled the memories.

  “That’s fine,” she said, making sure her voice sounded crisp—detached, even. “You make the reservation and I’ll meet you there. I should be able to make it by seven-thirty. If not, I’ll call your cell.”

  “Sure, I’ll take care of it. See you at seven-thirty.” He drew in a heavy breath. “I’m looking forward to it, babe. I miss you.”

  Holly had to resist the urge to respond in kind. She didn’t trust that anything was really different—that he would take a different course with her now that he’d had time to reflect. Yes, she felt gratified that Nate had taken the initiative to call. That’s what she’d been hoping for. But would more talk actually lead to any change between them? Or would it bring on another painful fight, and a confirmation that she was just like every other woman who’d passed through Nate Carter’s life?

  Fun while it lasted, but nothing more.

  * * *

  The restaurant was tucked behind a block of row houses in no-man’s land. Only fifteen minutes from Holly’s house, it was in a rough-looking area sandwiched between a trendy suburb and a stretch of urban blight along a noisy highway on the Jersey side. Looking at it from the outside, no one would guess it was one of the best Japanese restaurants in the Delaware Valley. Nate had discovered it years earlier and had become a loyal patron.

  A hostess named Midori, tall and beautiful in a shimmering blue oriental dress, greeted him like an old friend. All five sushi chefs, busy wielding their flashing knives behind the counter at the front of the restaurant, smiled and waved in recognition. Within seconds, Midori had ensconced him in his favorite booth at the back. He’d barely sat down when a ceramic carafe of warm sake appeared in front of him.

  He’d taken only a couple of sips when the bead curtains at the front parted and he saw Holly. She looked beautiful, as always, but tentative. Nervous. Well, he was damn nervous, too.

  As Holly followed the hostess through the restaurant, Nate’s heart hammered in his chest. He’d been in agony since he got off the phone with her, wondering if she’d actually show up. Before yesterday, the thought would never have crossed his mind that she might blow him off because, well, that had never happened to him. But his former certainty had vanished. After yesterday, anything could happen and that knowledge set his teeth on edge.

  Still, she’d come, and now he had a chance to make things right.

  Holly moved gracefully across the dimly lit room, her long auburn hair glimmering in the reflected glow of the Japanese lanterns that hung from wooden pillars throughout the room. Her sleek and simple knit dress clung to her figure, hugging every sexy curve like a lover’s caress. Just looking at her made Nate’s body go hard and his brain start to turn mushy.

  He stood as she approached, leaning forward to plant an awkward kiss on her carefully offered cheek.

  “Sorry I’m a bit late,” she said, sliding into the booth. “There was an awful jam-up getting onto the bridge.”

  Nate filled her cup with sake. He tried to read her tentative smile. “I got caught in it too. I must have been just ahead of you.”

  “Nate, I don’t mean to be a pill, but I’m starved. I barely ate today,” she said, momentarily dropping her gaze to her sake cup. She looked so pale and unhappy that it was all he could do not pull her across the table and into his arms.

  “I don’t need to lo
ok at the menu,” she said.

  “Sure, babe. Whatever you want. Sushi for you again?”

  She nodded, looking over her shoulder for the server.

  “I’ll have the sukiyaki,” he said. “How about sharing some vegetable tempura as an appetizer?”

  “Done,” she said.

  A kimono-clad server approached with bowls of miso soup and green tea. Nate placed their orders, then they both dug into the soup.

  He paused, watching her mouth as she sipped the hot broth. Damn, how he wanted to kiss those perfect lips. To run his hands down her slender shoulders to her breasts, following every curve of her body.

  The thought that he might never do that again knifed him in the gut.

  He didn’t read any hostility in Holly’s voice or posture, but the unspoken emotions hung like thunderclouds over the table.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said with a forced smile as he willed his jacked-up body to relax.

  “Japanese food is hard to turn down,” she said with a wry half smile.

  He relaxed a bit more, and decided to kick things off with something she’d find positive. “I got some good news from Dr. Morehouse today.”

  She perked up a little. “What did he say?”

  “That the shoulder’s healing faster than he expected. He said I should be able to start some soft-throwing soon. That’s a huge step.”

  Her eyes narrowed with concern as she morphed into Dr. Holly. “And what happens after that?”

  “Then I’ll start pitching to batters in practice, and after that I’ll have to throw what we call a simulated game. If all that goes well, I’ll go pitch a couple of minor league games on a rehab assignment. So, it’ll be a little while yet, but I’m really on the way back. Thank God.”

  She nodded. “That’s wonderful news. Don’t push it too hard, though. You don’t want to reinjure yourself.”

  “I know, Doctor,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of myself.” She obviously still cared about his health. He felt that was a good sign, and a good start to what was no doubt going to be a tough conversation.

  He decided he might as well get right to it without waiting for the food to arrive. The ice had been broken, and the waiting was driving him crazy.

  “Holly,” he began, “I hate that we had that fight, and I really want us to get past this thing. I still want to be with you. As much as ever.”

  She sat back on the bench seat and wrapped her arms around her waist, a classic defensive gesture for her. “Okay, but get past it how, Nate?”

  He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “I don’t know whether you’ll agree with me, but here’s what I think.”

  God that sounded lame. Like he was negotiating with his agent, or something.

  Holly simply nodded for him to continue.

  O-kay. It was going to be up to him, obviously. What he was going to say was probably wishful thinking, but it was all he’d been able to come up with. And as much as he was willing to say.

  “Holly, I know that sometimes when people have a fight, they decide to work it out by just rewinding the clock. Instead of digging themselves into an even deeper hole, they agree to start over again. To go back to what was good between them, instead of staying stuck on something lousy that happened.”

  A flush of color crept up her neck, but she remained silent.

  “I know you want more from me, and I’d like to be able to give it to you,” he continued. “But I need more time. So, the way I see it, if we plow all that same ground over and over again, it’ll just make things worse. But if we focus on all the good things we have going between us, we’ll find a way to get past this.” He locked his gaze onto her eyes. “Things will sort themselves out in time. In a natural way.”

  He wasn’t quite sure what that last bit meant, but it sounded right to his ears.

  Holly quickly looked down, refusing to meet his gaze. He groaned inside. This is going to be even harder than I thought.

  Her stoic silence twisted him in knots. He didn’t want to keep blabbing, but he couldn’t seem to shut his mouth. “Holly, ever since the day I met you, I feel like something’s changed in my life.”

  That was the truth, and he was still trying to figure it out and get past the fact that it freaked him out.

  Holly gazed back up at him, but with an unreadable expression. “What’s changed, Nate?”

  He repressed a sigh. Clearly she wasn’t going to let him get away with a squirming I don’t know. How the hell was he going to put what he was feeling into words that didn’t sound stupid? He was no dummy, but he wasn’t a wordsmith, either. And for sure not as eloquent as Holly.

  But he had to try. “This probably isn’t going to come out right,” he said defensively. “But I need you to understand where I come from when it comes to women. And where I come from, I guess, is fun. Women are fun, and women like to have fun with me. Until now, I’ve never expected anything more from them, and I don’t think they’ve ever expected anything more from me. That’s always been unspoken but understood. And when the fun was over, it was over, and I moved on. That was my life, Holly. Maybe it’s shallow, but it worked for me.”

  He wasn’t finished, but the expression on her face—one that mixed anger and hurt—stopped him cold.

  “Fun, Nate?” she bit out in a choked little voice. “Is that still all there’s ever going to be for you? You’re content to fritter away your life running after whatever turns you on at the moment?”

  Nate gritted his teeth. He was trying hard to talk about his feelings—something he found damn hard to do—and she was mocking him. “Jesus, give me a little credit, will you? I said that was my life. Past tense. Why don’t you let me finish?”

  She flinched. “Okay, was,” she said. “I apologize. Go on.”

  Damn. He had to keep better control over his emotions, and not sound like such a hardass. But this had to be the toughest conversation he’d ever had.

  He paused to regroup, moving to refill their cups from the carafe. When he tried to top up Holly’s, she waved him off, claiming she had surgery in the morning.

  A couple of moments of awkward silence passed before he tried again. “It’s easy to get…well, spoiled,” he said. “The team pays me so much money that I’ve been able to have pretty much everything I’ve wanted—great places to live, the finest cars, eating in the best restaurants. You name it.”

  “And women,” she said in a carefully neutral tone. “Apparently on any terms you wanted.”

  His heart sank. “That makes me sound pretty bad.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not trying to hurt you. But isn’t it the truth?”

  “It’s true enough, I guess. But I never thought of it that way. Honestly. I’m not some heartless son of a bitch, Holly.”

  Holly’s eyes softened. “I know that.”

  “I know it sounds like I’m making excuses for myself,” he said doggedly. He had to make her see. “Like my privileged life should give me a free pass or something. Well, I’m not. I just want you to understand what it’s been like. I’m not asking for your approval.”

  Her eyes seemed to search his. “Are you sure?”

  He inhaled deeply. “No. Just for your understanding. These feelings I have for you, well, they’re all new to me.” He spread out his hands, as if pleading with her. “Holly, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I know what I want. Not yet. But I know what I don’t want. I don’t want to lose you.” He gazed into her eyes, hoping for some hint that he might be getting through to her. But all he could see was sorrow and resignation.

  Shit, shit, shit. He’d never talked this much about feelings in the whole rest of his life put together. Women did that feelings stuff, not guys. Yet here he was, blabbing away while Holly barely said a word. The shoe was on the other foot for once in his life, and it didn’t fit worth a damn. He was clearly fucking up big time, blowing what was probably his last chance with her.

  Nate steeled himself for one more shot. “Ho
lly, I want to try to make this work. Please give it some more time. You’re good for me, and I know I can be good for you, too.”

  She shook her head immediately, looking like she might start crying. It felt like a punch to his gut.

  “Do you, Nate? Do you really know that? Do you actually have any idea what I want or need?”

  * * *

  Holly’s dismay had grown steadily from the moment Nate opened his mouth. He’d gone on and on, but all the words were simply a repackaging of the things he’d said to her on the trip back from Florida. The wrapping was prettier, and maybe he even believed it made a difference, but in the end nothing substantive had changed. He still didn’t know what he wanted, which could all too easily translate into something she didn’t want. As for his idea of turning back the clock, how was that even possible? It made no sense to her.

  Yes, he seemed anxious, almost desperate, to keep her in his life. And yes, he’d said words about wanting to change. But it was like trying to grab hold of a cloud of smoke. She’d searched hard for something tangible to grasp, because she wanted to find something to keep their relationship alive. But she’d be damned if she’d delude herself again.

  And he’d totally avoided the big ticket issue—fidelity.

  “You’re not going to give me a chance, are you?” he asked with a grim expression.

  The server approached with the vegetable tempura, so Holly took the opportunity to gather her thoughts before responding to his question. The soup bowls were quietly whisked away and the tempura set between them. Though her insides were churning with tension and tears threatened, she willed herself to stay strong. She picked up her chopsticks, more because she wanted to do something with her hands than from a desire to eat. In fact, she’d lost any appetite she’d had.

 

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