Fourth and Inches Page 7
“I…hoped you weren’t.” Admitting that aloud piles more pain on my gut, but if I’m going to help him now, he needs someone to believe in him.
His lips curl with a sly expression gleaming in his blue-green eyes. “See? I knew you still had some hope left in you.”
So mesmerized by the sight of something resembling a smile on his face, I almost forget to be angry at what he’s trying to do. “I have hope for you, Rob. Not me.”
His gaze shutters. “Then, it seems we’re at another impasse.”
“I guess we are.” As much as I’m trying to help him, I can’t work miracles.
Miracles don’t exist.
“Unless…”
“Unless what?” How can he still infuriate me so easily? And bait me in the same breath.
“Give me a year.”
That damn hope he spoke of sparks in my chest. I don’t want to feel it, but I can’t help myself.
“You’ll clean up your act? By this time next year, you’ll be the talented quarterback you are?” He’s got my attention. And also, my suspicion. I’m old enough to know everything has a price.
He nods, folding his muscular arms over his chest, staring me down with what, on anyone else, might be a formidable glare. “I will. If you’ll agree to give the doctors a year to help you. If nothing they try works, then you’re free to do as you wish.”
“What’s the catch?” If it were this easy to get him to agree to pull his life together, I wouldn’t be here at all.
Rob fixes me with a serious stare. “No more lying to yourself. No more lying to me.”
That shouldn’t be too hard. There aren’t any reasons to lie anymore.
“This is the last one.”
I grunt, but Mike bears his side of the bookshelf’s weight with ease as we work together to right it. It should piss me off more that I’ve let myself get so out of shape.
I’m too hungover to be pissed off.
Which is exactly why I called in one of the only reinforcements I knew wouldn’t tell me no or let Evie down in her time of need.
I look around at the living room area of the condo, impressed at how quickly Mike and I managed to get all the furniture back in order. Combined with Evie’s cleaning frenzy from this morning, this place almost looks as good as it did when I moved in.
Minus all the random fist-sized holes.
Mike’s gaze runs up and down my shivering, sweaty form with disgust. “Go take a shower. I’ll start patching the walls.” He points a finger at me. “And don’t wake her up. She needs rest if I’m going to get her on a flight out of here tomorrow.”
I don’t have it in me to argue against being treated like an idiot.
Defending myself would be laughable, anyway. He knows exactly why I begged him to get his ass on a last-minute, cross-country flight. I haven’t been sober in weeks, so I can barely walk a straight line into the bedroom where Evie’s curled up in a ball on the bed, passed out from another round of heavy-hitting prescription painkillers before they released her from the ER.
If she hadn’t fallen asleep in the cab on the way back here, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I had to do.
Of course, if I hadn’t almost dropped her multiple times before laying her in her bed, I might not have realized what I had to do.
Even though I know staring at this empty mattress is going to hurt far more tomorrow, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her here…just once.
Her short curls look nothing like what my imagination cooked up time after time. But, with her face relaxed in sleep, it’s easy to pretend she’s comfortable in the bed she swore felt like a cloud.
I would have preferred to lay her down in the softest sheets, to cover her up with the fluffiest comforter, and for her not to be in a medicinally induced slumber, but beggars can’t be choosers.
Knowing I’ll never share this space with her is almost a poetic comfort.
I won’t be able to miss what I never had, right?
The only way I’ll be able to keep up my end of the deal and get my shit together will be to get rid of this shrine and move somewhere not so haunted by everything that will never be.
After Mike takes Evie away tomorrow, I’ll start boxing everything up, then find out how to break the lease early.
A bachelor doesn’t need all this space. It’s only more room for the emptiness to breed and multiply.
With more of a plan than I’ve had in months ready to go, I head for the master bathroom and a shower to wash away the me Evie won’t let me be anymore.
I shouldn’t be surprised she was the one to demand I snap out of it and do something with my life. That she barged her way in with ease where others tried and failed.
She’s always been the white knight in this relationship.
Even if I didn’t appreciate it at the time.
With one last backwards glance at her over my shoulder, I make a silent promise to do whatever it takes to put hope back in her life. How ironic that saving her means saving myself.
“I can’t believe you called him.”
Evie’s monotone voice makes me nearly jump out of my skin when I step out of the steamy bathroom, but it’s the flat look in her blue eyes that brings me to my knees.
“I had to. I’m not in any position to take care of you right now.” Damn, admitting that stings. I tricked myself into believing if I loved her enough, the rest would follow. The only thing following us is pain.
“How many times do I have to repeat myself?” she grits out. “I don’t need to be taken care of.”
Oh, here we go. I knew the only reason it didn’t happen at the hospital was because she wanted to play her cards right. Which is exactly why I also knew I had to go behind her back to call for help. “Evie, you were in enough pain to go to the ER. You passed out in the cab on the way back here, and wouldn’t wake up. So, yes. Right now, you do need to be taken care of.”
Like the stubborn warrior she is, Evie sits up on the bed, clearly fighting to make herself look stronger than she feels. “So, what happens now? Mike drags me back to New York and I’m just supposed to believe you’ll hold up your end of our agreement? That you’ll get your life together in exchange for me giving the doctors a year to try all their treatments? That you’ll quit drinking without anyone here to hold you accountable?”
Huh. Can’t say I thought of that very valid point. “Good call. I’ll make sure Mike knows what you’re supposed to do for the next year. He’ll make sure you stick with the doctor’s plan of treatment.”
Evie rises from the mattress, pinning me down with a laser focus that honestly scares me a little. “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you.”
“I made you a promise. I’ll keep it.” I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth. I’ve made her a lot of promises I couldn’t keep.
Knowing this damn well, she scoffs. “That’s not gonna cut it. It took you a year to get to this point. It’s going to take you a full year of hard work to get back on track.”
My knees feel weak, so I stride past her to sit on the bed. Looking around at all the still-overturned dressers Mike and I haven’t righted in here yet, her skepticism feels warranted. “Yeah. I know.”
Her shoulders slump as she sighs before sitting next to me. “You’re not even permitted to be near the team for the summer. There won’t be anyone here to keep you from sliding back. If you want to name Mike as my handler, then fine. Just give me the name and number of someone who will be yours.”
“Shawn. You already have his number.” He’s literally the only person I can think of. No one else can drop their lives in their respective cities to come babysit my ass.
Evie shakes her head. “Shawn doesn’t live in Sacramento. He’s busy with his own stuff. It has to be someone local.”
Davis would probably agree to it. Hell, he’d probably laugh and dance a jig at the idea of me cleaning up my act. Just because I’m not allowed to train at the team facilities doesn’t mean he won’
t check up on me once or twice a week.
Before I can make that horrifying suggestion, Evie gestures toward the closet. “Maybe her? Sophia?”
I rack my brain for who she’s talking about, but the only person with that name hasn’t been around in months. “Why would the cleaning lady I fired be a good person to hold me accountable?”
“Oh.” Evie scrunches her cute little nose in confusion. “I wasn’t sure that’s who Sophia was. I thought maybe she was the owner of all those clothes.”
Clothes? What clothes?
Oh. Oh, shit.
I tore everything out of the closet in one of my rages. After my comment when she first arrived about a steady stream of pussy, of course Evie would think…
“Those are your clothes.” The admission slips out before I can stop myself.
“My…?” Evie’s gaze cuts between me and the closet several times, but she never seems to put it together. She probably thinks I’m still drunk. “I’ve never even visited before. None of my stuff from our apartment was missing when I moved everything to New York. Those clothes can’t be mine.”
“I bought them for you.” The explanation ghosts out into the air between us, another confession I had no intention of revealing.
Instead of placating her curiosity, Evie’s cheeks brighten with anger. “So, you what? Invite random women in here to satisfy your needs, but won’t let them sleep in the bed and make it obvious to them they’re meaningless sex providers by keeping another woman’s stuff here? You’ve become worse than Alex ever was!”
Oh, how far the mighty have fallen. There was a time in my life I would’ve felt insulted to be compared to Alex, even though he has his reasons for being the way he is. Now? Now I don’t have a leg to stand on. Not against Evie’s allegations, not against Mike’s. I’m everything they’re accusing me of.
Still, her anger is what I need to fan into a raging wildfire right now. It’s the only way to pull the puppet strings and get her to at least give herself a fighting chance. “Keenan Davis.”
“What?” Her nostrils are practically flared with rage, but at least she’s still responding to me.
“My team captain, Keenan Davis. He’ll be my handler. He tried his damnedest all season to get me to pull my head out of my ass. I’ll give you his number, so you can make sure I’m doing what I’m supposed to be.”
Evie crosses her arms over her chest until it takes every ounce of control I have not to stare at the way the movement plumps her breasts. “Before I leave, I think we need to iron out exactly what it is Davis will be making sure you do. Or don’t do, as the case may be.”
“Okay,” I nod, using the movement to distract me from the magnetic sight at the periphery of my vision. “Tell me what it is you want from me in return for you giving the doctors a year to try other options before you have the hysterectomy.”
“Don’t forget not lying to you again,” she bites out. “That was your other term for this little arrangement. I’d ask the same from you, but your sudden admissions of how you enjoy casual sex leads me to believe that won’t be a problem.”
I bite my tongue until I taste blood. I have no defense for her judgment of me.
“I’m sorry,” she backtracks. “That’s not fair. Especially since I pushed you into it.”
“Yes, you did.” I not only bought her lies, but allowed the rest to happen. Which is why I have to do my best over the next year. I don’t know how else to atone for my sins. Giving Evie the chance at a better life, even one without me, is the best I can hope for.
She swallows, and my eyes follow the sight of her throat working. “I’m glad you’re finally enjoying a healthy sex life. Just make sure you’re safe about it, okay? Always wrap…it up, and um, don’t engage in any dangerous behavior. Shawn would really lose his shit if he has to suddenly explain to the media why you have babies with several different mothers. I’ll bet your lawyers wouldn’t be too happy about having to divide up your millions for child support payments, either.”
She tries so hard to laugh it off, but the tears in her eyes give her away. Which makes it that much more difficult for me to stay cool and not admit anything else.
“You’re going to be someone’s baby mama someday, too,” I reassure her. “Whether naturally or by adoption. And he won’t even have to make child support payments. Give it a year, and you’re going to be good as new, find someone who deserves you, and live happily ever after. White picket fence, a bunch of kids, and everything you’ve ever wanted.”
I can barely get out the future I want for her. I always thought the man by her side would be me.
“I’m not going to get in a relationship while I’m technically married.” She rolls her eyes. “That wouldn’t be fair, just like it’s not fair to the women you sleep with now. We should maybe discuss divorce as part of these terms. I, um, actually already had papers drawn up.”
Even though it shouldn’t surprise me, all the blood leaves my body with her casually delivered gunshot straight to my heart.
“You need health insurance to cover your treatments for the next year,” I remind her. “So for now, that’s off the table.”
“It has to stay secret, then,” she agrees. “It’s not fair to anyone for our paper marriage to be revealed now.”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath to fortify myself, then push on. “What else? Other than the general get my act together?”
“No more drinking.” She ticks off items on her slender fingers. “Find somewhere and train hard this summer. No more being a dick to anyone who approaches you for an autograph, interview, whatever.”
I hold up my hand to halt her spiel. “That’s not going to be an issue. I’m banned from all league activities, remember?”
She rolls her eyes again. “This agreement is good for one year. Your suspension is over after the third game of the season. You’ll have to interact with the public and media then. No more of last year’s standoffish behavior, and definitely no assaulting anyone.”
I flinch at her word choice.
Evie glances around the room before her sure gaze lands on me. “Actually, do you have paper and a pen anywhere? It might be good to write this stuff down and keep it where you can see it at all times. Sort of a constant reminder.”
I reach past her into the nightstand which is still upright, sliding open the top drawer and producing a pen and an old leather-bound notebook that burns my hand.
“Y-you still have it?” she whispers.
This notebook was once upon a time a gift, a promise. It hasn’t been used in ages. “It’s got paper in it, so…”
“Do you still have the Bio notebook, too?” Her eyes are wide and far too trusting to be trained on me.
Wait a second. Why would she even ask that, unless… “How do you know about the Bio notebook?”
She looks away, an unmistakable expression of guilt painted across her face. “Um, I…”
Of course, she knew about it all along. Just like she knew about us before I could ever confess anything to her. Memories or not, this woman is fucking amazing and hellbent on reclaiming her life, not letting that day define her. She just needs a little nudge not to let this diagnosis change her, either.
“Yeah. I still have the Bio notebook.”
I’m not sure what else to say except to pony up to my end of the deal. I rip out a page and hand it and the pen over to Evie. It’s ironic our relationship started with a list. Now it’s ending with one, as well.
I grip the bouquet tighter in a futile effort to make my hands stop shaking. It’s no good. The flowers tremble right along with me.
“I know you’re still angry, even though you won’t admit it,” Alex chuckles without any humor, “but you don’t have to act like walking down the aisle with me is so bad.”
“It’s not that,” I answer while glancing around the back of the church one more time.
He’s not going to show. Only three months into our bet, and Rob’s already breaking the deal.
“Take a deep breath, baby doll,” Alex offers, his voice deep, warm, and soothing. “This isn’t like before. You’re not putting yourself on display for these people. You’re you; I’m me, and everything will be fine.”
I follow his advice and allow my shoulders to relax. He’s right. There’s nothing to fear today. I’ll walk through those large double doors with my chin held high, knowing I did everything I could to help Rob turn his life around.
I can only control me.
No one else.
“You okay?” Mike steps up to us, scanning me like a human lie detector. “Ready for this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I just wish things would have turned out differently.”
Mike and Alex exchange a suspicious glance that doesn’t fly below my radar, but with my heart heavy, I ignore it. There’s nothing left to say.
Mike filled Alex in. Per the arrangements, my big brother turned overlord has been accompanying me to my doctor’s visits and making sure I do all I’m told during the off-season. Between he and Alex checking in on me, there’s no room for me to back out of my end of the deal.
“Franklin, standard missionary,” Mike mumbles while checking over his shoulder.
Alex shakes his head. “Jennifer, doggy style.”
That gets a small smile out of me. It’s comforting to know some things never change. “What? Betting on a baby name wasn’t good enough for you two?”
“Nope.” Alex beams. “Had to up the stakes.”
“Franklin is a terrible name. And more importantly, even if it was possible to know the exact moment of conception, no one is going to divulge that personal information about sex positions. How will you know who wins?”
“Personally, I’d go with something more artsy and modern like Echo and pair it with a wilder than expected reverse cowgirl.”