Players to Lovers (4 Book Collection)

by Ketley Allison

  I nod and give a reassuring squeeze to Astor before her hand slides away from my arm. I have a lot of thinking to do, but it can’t be here. I need to go back to Locke’s place and put the final touches in Lily’s nursery. I need to pack my bags and begin the process of leaving. I’ve been naïve—so naïve—to think Locke and I could continue within this bubble, keep our pretend family in place.

  Lily has Astor, she has Locke, she has her family.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  The baritone voice, so out of place between my and Astor’s soft talking, shoots both our heads up. A silver fox approaches us, his slate colored hair combed back from his tanned, aristocratic face.

  The eyes are what give him away.

  He’s a Hayes.

  “Dad,” Astor says, standing. I follow suit, rubbing my palms on my jeans for no reason.

  “Locke’s asking to see Lily before we leave.” He’s not even looking in my direction.

  “Sure. This is Carter, by the way,” Astor says. “She’s—”

  “I know who she is.”

  “Okay.” Astor drawls out the word. “Carter, meet Nick Hayes.”

  “Lily’s grandfather,” I say, with emphasis, and hold out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Nick Hayes doesn’t deign to look me up at down or study me in any way. In mere seconds, I’ve discerned he has a clear talent for making people around him feel like plankton.

  Well, he’s yet to come up against me.

  “I’d like to take Lily with me, if that’s all right with you,” I say. To Astor only. “Locke’s place is familiar to her. She’s already been poked and prodded—”

  “You don’t have to sell me. It’s done,” Astor says.

  “It certainly is not. Lily is coming with us. I have a penthouse near the hospital. Lily should see her father as much as possible,” Mr. Hayes says.

  “Dad, don’t pretend like you care about Lily’s feelings,” Astor says, and I jerk in surprise. “Or Locke’s, for that matter. Carter will take Lily to see him whenever he needs.”

  I nod. “Of course.”

  Nick chips his icepick eyes over to me. “And how long to you plan on squatting with my son?”

  “Two more weeks, but I think I’ll pilfer his drawers closer to my flight out. Maybe steal a precious coin or two.”

  Nick’s eyes turn into slits. “I’ve met many women like you, and I’ll meet many more. My son deals with your kind often, but never for long. So, if you believe you can infiltrate this family, if you have any notions of staying in my granddaughter’s life, you’d best recalculate.”

  I sigh, as if he’s exhausting me and my insides aren’t crawling, then turn to Astor. “Bring Lily to see Locke. I’ll be in the waiting room, and I’ll take her home as soon as you’re done.”

  Astor searches my eyes like she wants to ask why I don’t want to see Locke, too. But I shake my head in warning.

  “No problem,” Astor says. “Dad, it’s been real, as always.”

  Astor strides by her father with no hitch in pace, and I scramble in line behind her. When he grabs my arm and pulls me to his side—hard—I swallow a yelp.

  “You are not touching my son’s inheritance. Do you understand me?” Nick seethes through his teeth.

  “Get your hands off me,” I say.

  “I know you,” he says, maintaining his grip. “And I will crush you if given a chance.”

  “Dad! Jesus!”

  Astor rushes back to our table, ready to barrel through my and her father’s tangled arms, but Nick releases me and combs back his hair like we’re having nothing but a minor tete-a-tete.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Astor says, stepping in front of me. “Why are you even here? Locke doesn’t want you, Lily doesn’t know you, and I couldn’t give two damns why you’re trolling the hospital.”

  “He’s my son,” Nick says calmly. “I’m entitled to—”

  “You gave up your title the minute Locke was no longer your football prodigy,” Astor spits. “And you’re not getting your hands on Lily. So how about you leave, right now. I’ll send Locke your best.”

  “You’re in no position to tell me what to do.”

  “Fine,” Astor says, waving a hand. “Do you, Dad. We’re going.”

  Astor storms off without another word, taking me with her. Nick remains behind, but I can feel his eyes on us like ants, and I let out an obvious exhale as soon as we clear a corner and he’s out of sight.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Astor says as we wait for the elevator. She tries for a joke. “You see where Locke gets all his caveman from.”

  I smile in answer, but it’s frail.

  Astor grows serious. “He shouldn’t have laid his hands on you. He wasn’t like this when Mom was here. He wasn’t so…”

  “Angry and mean?”

  Astor gives a hollow laugh. “Yeah. When it comes to Locke and me, he pretty much died when Mom did. Hasn’t been around much. I assume he’s only here because he’s concerned about Locke’s ability to live until the trust Mom left us kicks in.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t care about that.”

  “I know you don’t.” Her eyes soften. “I know. But anyway, he does. Because he can’t get his grabby hands on the money until Locke and I turn thirty. And convince us to give him some.”

  “You say he wasn’t always like this?”

  “Greedy? Miserable? An all-around asshole? Sure, he was all those things, but he channeled it into Locke’s football career and would at least be pleasant to us at dinner. But it’s why I’m so afraid, you know, for my brother. I don’t want Locke turning into him, and before Lily, he was headed for that route.”

  “After what I saw back there, I’m glad Locke’s changing for Lily,” I say as the elevator doors slide apart.

  Astor studies me with a penetrating look as we walk in.

  “Not just for Lily,” she says, but leaves it at that.

  33

  Locke

  I don’t know what time it is. I only care in the sense of when I next can see Lily, and I think it’s still night.

  Astor’s been in and out of here, so have the guys, but I don’t recall too much of it. I’ve refused morphine or any other kind of drug, so I’m dealing with a shriveled-up lung and a raging knee as best as I can.

  I haven’t been able to see Lily. No one’s let her down here, and they won’t until I’m stable enough.

  I’m fucking stable enough, damn it.

  I lean to my side, kind of, searching for the nurse’s call button so I can use it for the tenth time in the past hour. I’m an annoying little fucker, but they aren’t forced to have their ass cheeks exposed every time someone needs to see them, so I win.

  I’m about to press it when my door opens, and the first thing I see is tow-headed curls spiraling out of a beaming face.

  Lily shrieks and claps at the sight of me, and is soon followed by Carter, who’s holding her.

  “Oh, Lil,” I say, and I can’t stop the tears in my voice. “Daddy’s so happy to see you.”

  “She’s all right,” Carter says as she steps up to the side of my bed. “Not even a bandage. Just a small bruise on the back of her head.”

  “Thank you.” I spare a longing look at Carter before centering on Lily. “Can I hold her?”

  “I don’t know…”

  I’m already pressing the up arrow to raise the headboard of my bed. “Please, Carter.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever begged anyone for anything. But here and now, I’m willing to cry if it means holding my baby.

  After some thought, Carter nods. She gently settles Lily against my chest. Lily goes straight for my mouth, pinching my lower lip between her fingers.

  “Ow,” I say, but it’s muffled.

  “She missed you.” Carter’s smile is genuine, but it’s only directed at Lily.

  “I missed her. I’m so, so glad she’s okay. You
taking her home?”

  Carter nods. “Astor’s going to take us, settle us back into your place. But I’ll be back with her in a few hours. Give you some rest.”

  “Carter, I’m so sorry—”

  “Don’t.” Carter shakes her head. “It’s not necessary.”

  “It is. All of it. Astor told me…well, she told me she blew up my spot again with you, and I’d like to explain my side of things.”

  “About Paige?”

  I’m alert enough to realize she’s playing dumb, but what I don’t know is why. “Yeah, about Paige.”

  “Like I said, unnecessary.” Carter’s tone is clipped. “The doctors explained you’ll be here a few days at least, maybe a week. I want you to know Lily’s in good hands, and I’ll bring her to see you whenever you want.”

  I gently pull Lily’s hands away from my mouth so I can speak. “Carter, I know you will. I never questioned Lily’s safety while I’m in here. Or that I wouldn’t get to see her.”

  Carter dares to meet my eyes before she skirts away again. “From here on out, everything I do, it will be for Lily.”

  I draw my brows down. “Carter…”

  “There are two weeks left until I go back to Florida. I’ll finish up, start packing up my paintings, boxing up my stuff. By the time you get back to your place, I’ll book a hotel.”

  There’s a sinking feeling completely unrelated to my damaged chest. “Carter, I don’t want you to do that.”

  “What we’ve been doing—aside from Lily, I mean—it was inappropriate.”

  I keep my voice low, unthreatening. “I wouldn’t call what we shared inappropriate.”

  “Don’t argue with me on this. We’re going to be professional from this point on. I’ll communicate with you about Lily, always. Especially while you’re here, but that’s all. Okay? You and I—well, there is no you and I. I want to go back to the beginning, how it was when we first met.”

  I laugh, but it comes out as a wheeze. “I sure as hell don’t want that.”

  “You don’t get a choice this time.” She’s dead serious. “I’m not saying I’ll hate you again, but I…” She draws in a deep breath. “I don’t want to like you anymore, either.”

  I’m stuck in this bed, pretty much immobile, and I’m so fucking aware of it. I’m desperate to Hulk out and throw this bed at the wall in pure, utter frustration. Instead, I’m forced into a wimpy, wheeze-filled, “How can you say that? After what we—”

  “We only have one thing in common. Her.” Carter reaches for Lily, who goes into her arms happily and willingly, without one look back at dad. “And in fourteen days, it won’t even be that. Say ‘bye, Lily. You’ll see Daddy again soon.”

  “Adadadadada.” Lily shoves all her fingers of one hand into her mouth and chews, staring doe-eyed at me.

  “Carter, don’t go. Talk to me,” I say.

  “That’s the problem,” she responds, but she’s focused on adjusting Lily’s shirt. It doesn’t need adjusting. “You haven’t given me the same courtesy. Good-bye, Locke.”

  “Carter, stop. Don’t leave.”

  “I’ll be back with her in a few hours.”

  Never, in my entire life, have I felt so useless, so worthless, to be lying prone in this bed, stuck to wires and tubing. “You can’t go like this.”

  “This isn’t a punishment, Locke. I’m not keeping Lily from you, but she needs to go home, be in a familiar place for a while—and that’s your place. She’s yours, always. So, let us leave.”

  I can’t find anything else to say. Nothing in Carter’s expression indicates that even if I discover the secret to her universe or a meaningful sentence to make her falter, she’ll still go. Carter doesn’t have to utter the words, but I understand them fully.

  I’m done with you, Locke.

  And I’ve never been more terrified to lose.

  “I’ll see you later,” she says, and I don’t stop her. Lily waves from her perch in Carter’s arms, peeking over her shoulder as they leave.

  One breath. Hitch. Two breaths. Hitch. Every motion rips at my lung tissue. Inhaling and exhaling pull any energy I have left into enduring the pain.

  But I find enough to throw my legs over. I muster the rest to stand on one leg. And I hook the mattress and heave, roaring until I pass out, lights flashing and heart monitor screaming.

  The bed doesn’t move an inch.

  All I do is crumple to the ground.

  34

  Carter

  I finally have the answer.

  I have no pieces of my heart left.

  Leaving Locke’s hospital room, knowing he couldn’t follow because he was too weak to walk, too tied down with tubes and IVs to fight, was probably the worst thing I’ve done.

  I don’t walk away from people who are hurting, especially those I love.

  Yet, staying—remaining—would only cause further damage.

  We were both the walking wounded, finding solace in each other’s loneliness and pain. That isn’t how a relationship should start, nor could it survive.

  Locke deserves his secrets; he’s entitled to protect his past, but when it comes to being with someone, to me choosing a person to be with for the rest of my life, I need to give all of myself. And he, whoever he is, needs to do the same in return.

  I’ve learned so much about Locke—more in the last hour with Astor than within almost three weeks of living with him.

  Locke lost his mother to cancer.

  He hates hospital beds, same as I do.

  He has a father he keeps at a distance.

  He has an inheritance. A trust, with a lot of money that he’ll gain access to in six years.

  He slept with Paige, as a bet, for a thousand dollars.

  I wonder if Locke collected his money a few minutes after fucking Paige, or if he waited until the morning.

  I’m silent on the car ride back to Locke’s place. Astor is in the passenger seat of the hired car and Lily’s been lulled to sleep in her car seat beside me.

  And I can’t stop thinking about Locke and Paige.

  When Locke and I…when we slept together, it was easy for me to forget about his past with Paige. Yes, Lily exists because of it, but I could categorize the two—Lily on one side, Paige and Locke having sex on the other. I could delete that column and still have Lily.

  Because, I rationalized, Paige never loved Locke. And Locke, obviously, did not love Paige. That’s enough, isn’t it? To then sleep with the person your best friend slept with, too?

  I groan, cover my face with my hands and shake my head back and forth.

  I wish I asked more of Paige when she told me she was pregnant. I wish I’d prodded for more information when she told me the father was Lachlan Hayes.

  I wish I kept my pants on.

  Because now…

  I look at Lily, her lashes dark tattoos against her chubby, rosy cheeks.

  Because now I’m deeply involved, and not simply because of this child.

  I think I’m in love with Locke.

  Which is why, in no uncertain terms, I told him we couldn’t be together.

  Too much damage. Too much hurt.

  Way too much unknown.

  I choose to be alone instead of vulnerable to a man who only wants to give the barest amount of himself.

  I’m fucked up, too, but I was willing to share it all, with him. With Locke. I shared so much of myself already. I shared this little girl. I have a family that’s all but disowned me because I didn’t follow their path. I’ve lost my only, closest friend, forever. I have to give up a child I care for as if she were my own. I want her to be my own.

  On a sigh, I stare out the window as we crest over the Williamsburg Bridge, the red-and-gold sky a backdrop to Manhattan’s glittering sunrise-soaked city. My hand rests lightly on Lily’s rising and falling chest. Too soon, my decision has to become real.

  I have to leave them both.

  35

  Carter

  The next few days pass by
routinely.

  Locke’s not here, so Lily and I rule the apartment, but despite all the games, the baby destruction and literal spilled milk and the music I play to fill the silence, this place is empty.

  I ignore the quaking in my stomach every time Lily talks herself awake in the mornings, and I roll over on the futon and get her. I haven’t taken up residence in Locke’s bed while he’s gone. The last time I was there, he was in it with me.

  We visit Locke twice a day, scheduled around Lily’s naps, and each time, while he lights up for his daughter, I feel a little glitter is lost between us. His bright tone with Lily and flat questions to me tell me enough to understand he’s come to terms with my instructions to keep each other at a distance. I follow suit, but it doesn’t feel good. We’re worse than we were when I first met him—when we were all despicable passion and arguments and insults. Now, we’re simply…calm waters. No ripples, no warming temperatures, just an abyss with no movement.

  In about half an hour, Lily and I have to be off for our second daily visit with Locke. All these car trips are eating into my cash, and I wish I could sell more paintings. Astor has offered to pay, but whether it’s pride or stubbornness or both, I don’t accept it. I’ll be back to my old job soon, saving and living and generally toiling through my days, so contributing to Lily’s happiness is the best way to spend my money anyway.

  A knock at the door lifts my head up from where I’m scrounging through the couch cushions for Lily’s favorite toy, her rabbit. That sketchy thing has been one of the only sources of comfort for her and I can’t find it anywhere. I’ve settled her temporarily by opening the box of jumbo Legos Locke bought her— and stepping on one for the first time last night. Holy ouch.

  “Who is it?” I ask, not bothering to stand.

  Lily’s whispering something likely demonic as she builds a multicolored skyscraper with mismatched cubes.

  Instead of answering, there’s another knock.

  “I’m not answering until you tell me who you are!” I call back. I’ve lived in Brooklyn for almost a month. I know damn well not to open the door to an unknown caller.