Fair Game: A Football Romance (7 page)

“What do you want, Adam?” I say when I answer.

“I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

“I’m fine as wine, Adam.” I say, already slurring my words. All I’ve had to eat since I landed in Virginia is fruit.

“You finally accepted the wine.”

“Didn’t have much choice, you woulda made me drink it eventually.”

God, I need to shut up and hang up. I sound drunk. I am drunk. This is some strong ass wine.

“You know I like to spoil you.”

“You used to like to spoil me, Adam, before you walked out on me.”

I finish the glass and pour another, emptying the bottle, a bad idea I’m sure, but saying what’s on your mind is easier when you’re drunk.

“I’m sorry, Ame. I know I hurt you, but please know it was for a really good reason.”

“A good reason? What possible reason could there be to take off like that?”

My mind is clouding more and more by the minute, and pretty soon I won’t be able to form words or stay awake if I keep drinking this fast. I can already feel the wine at the top of my esophagus, ready and waiting to make a reappearance—if I move just right.

“I can’t tell you, but trust me, it was necessary.”

“Necessary … necessary … that’s stupid, Adam. You’re stupid. I hate you. I don’t wanna be your nurse, ya know? I didn’t know it was gonna be you. I would not have come. I hate you.”

I can hardly keep my eyes open now. The dresser directly across from me is warped and blurry. I blink to correct my vision, but it’s not helping.

“I know you do, baby. Put down the wine and go to sleep. We can talk about this another time.”

“Nother time. Yep, least now we got ‘nother time, huh?”

He chuckles. “Yes, we have a lot more time now. Did you set your glass on the nightstand?”

I look at my hand. I’m still holding my wine glass. Yep, there it is, tipping and wobbly, but still in my hand.

“Nope.”

“Why don’t you do that now and turn out the lights? Did you lock the doors?”

“Yup.”

“Goodnight, Amethyst.”

“Night asshole.”

This time, he out and out laughs instead of a chuckle, and I imagine him in his hospital bed talking on his cell phone, smiling the smile that used to melt my panties off with his lickable dimples and his eyes that sparkle like the ocean on a clear day. I hate those stupid dimples and those damn eyes.

I press the end button, hanging up on Adam. I nearly miss the nightstand with my glass before shutting off the light and snuggling down under the expensive sheets.

Even in the dark, the room spins. I hate the spins. Why did I drink so much and so fast? I want Brea. She’s always there for me when I’m drunk or sad, and right now, I’m both. If it weren’t so dark, I’d call her, but my eyelids are too heavy and thankfully, sleep is rescuing me from the spins.

Chapter Eleven

Adam

“I’m really sorry about your eye. Seriously, I’d like to do something to make up for it. Let me help you out. Is there anything you need, anything you want paid off? A charity I can donate to in your name?”

The nurse I hit has been brave enough to come back to my room after being cleared by the ER. I wish she would let me do something to make it better, but she refuses, saying it’s hospital policy not to accept gifts from patients.

“No, Mr. Silver, like I said, it’s against the rules. I’m fine. You were sleeping; it’s no big deal,” she says, glancing at me while she swaps out my empty IV bag for a new one.

“It’s all good, I’ll find a way to do something for you …” I pause to read her name badge, “Sherry.”

Sherry turns several shades of pink and then red while she programs the amount of fluid into the pump. Maybe I shouldn’t have been talking to her while she’s messing with that. I hope she didn’t mess anything up.

She finishes pressing buttons and straightens up.

“Is there anything else I can do for you before I leave, Mr. Silver?”

I let the question hang in the air a little too long before answering.

“No, there’s nothing else. Oh wait, could you hand me my phone?” I point to a rolling table that’s out of my reach.

“Of course, here you are.” Sherry hands me the phone, and I watch her walk away. Scrubs are the most unflattering garments, but Sherry’s are tight, hugging her curves and accentuating her ass.

A week ago, hell, a few days ago, Sherry’s ass would have been at the top of my to-do list, but not anymore. Ame’s back in my life, and I’m never going to fuck that up again.

Chapter Twelve

Amethyst

In the morning, two things are evident to me before I completely wake up. One: something is vibrating against my hip. And two: my head feels like it’s going to explode.

Wine is so good; how can it make a person feel so crappy? I open one eye to an incredibly bright, sun-spattered room. An empty wine bottle and glass taunt me from the bedside table. I guess maybe a
whole bottle
of expensive wine could make a person feel this crappy.

I close my eye and feel around in the sheets for my phone. I could have sworn I put it on the bedside table when I went to sleep. Lord, please don’t let me have drunk dialed or texted anyone last night. I’ve got enough problems right now.

I locate the annoying buzz and pull the heavy duvet over my head, shielding my face from the light of the room, and answer the call with an unenthusiastic, “Yeah.”

“You haven’t called me since you left, and I left you like twenty texts yesterday. You’re taking care of him, aren’t you? It’s Adam they sent you out there for, isn’t it? I can’t believe they …”

“Brea, please shush. You’re going to split my head open like a watermelon. Take it easy.”

“You’re hung over? After only one night? What the hell, Ame?”

“Yes, what did you expect? I’m stuck out here taking care of the master bailer, dual personality, bi-polar, all mighty powerful Silver Snake.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“Your friend, Vinnie, was at O’Malley’s, asking about you last night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. When were you planning on telling me how gorgeous he is?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I mean he’s cute and all, but I have this funny feeling when I’m with him.”

“That’s called being horny. It’s been so long, you forgot,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

“Oh hush. I haven’t forgotten. It’s something else. Something, I don’t know … creepy?”

I press my hand to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t feel like dealing with that whole situation right now.

“All right, I’ll drop the hottie topic. How are you handling seeing Adam again, other than drinking a bottle of wine by yourself?”

“I don’t know. It’s surreal being with him again. It feels like an old wound has been ripped open, and everything hurts. I’ve never allowed myself to believe this day would come, that I’d be face to face with him again. I have to stay professional, Brea, and it’s so hard when all I want to do is scream at him and smack that smug smirk off his face.”

“Okay, you can’t smack the boss, so put that little scenario out of your head. You’re right; you have to keep it professional, but the personal part is going to keep getting in the way.”

The wheels in her brain are turning. Brea is great with advice, so I wait to find out what she’s got for me.

“What you need to do is march in there today and lay it out for him. Tell him you need an explanation or you’re going home. If he wants you to stay bad enough, then he will tell you what happened, and you can decide if you can get past it or not. If not, hey, we’re going to Florida, because Katelyn isn’t getting married anymore. If you can accept his reasoning, then you stay there and do your job, make him better, and then I’ll meet you in Florida.”

“Easier said than done, and what happened with Katelyn?”

“What do you think? Stupid teenagers think marriage is a solid way to go steady. Thank God they figured out it’s harder than it looks before they made it legal.”

“Smart kids.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. It was more like neither of them could get an apartment they could afford, and World War III broke out over it. Whatever. As long as she’s not marrying that turd, and I have vacation time, I’m cool with it. So, you gonna ask him what’s up?”

“I did, last night. He said he had a good reason. He won’t tell me what it is, and I’m just supposed to trust him,” I say with a snort. “As if.”

“So that’s what the hangover is about? Got yourself sloshed, so you could confront him?”

“Not intentionally. He left me a bottle of wine, and I tried to get rid of it. When I came home, it was next to the bed, and I was weak. I drank the whole thing. Then, the asshole called me, and it all came out.”

She groans, “Oh, Ame, you always did know how to keep things interesting. So how did you leave it?”

“I called him an asshole, I think. And I’m pretty sure I said I hate you. He laughed at me, and I hung up, jerk.”

Brea snickers, “Well, at least you left him laughing. Now get up and go to work, demand a real explanation, and you can look for me tomorrow on the beach. I’ll be the hot one in the green string bikini.”

“You seem confident he’s not going to tell me the truth.”

“He’s a man, isn’t he? Are they capable of telling the truth?”

“Yeah, true. Okay, this is going to take a while, so I’d better get going. I’m scared to even look in the mirror.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re gorgeous even on your worst day, Chica. Call me later and let me know how it goes.”

“Okay, I will, and Brea?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

I can visualize her rolling her eyes and breathing a warm breath on her fingernails before buffing them against her chest.

“I know, what can I say? I’m the best friend to end all best friends.”

“You are. Love you.”

“Love you too, dork. Call me later.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Keeping my eyes closed, I fling off the comforter and prop up on one shoulder for a moment and then to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. My head spins and my mouth waters. I don’t want to barf, so I sit and swallow, holding my stomach until I’m confident I can make it to the shower.

It’s a few degrees below zero today. I need to go shopping for a coat and some jeans. I have nothing to wear on a day like today, so I’m forced to put on one of stupid’s outfits.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my new temporary bedroom, I turn to look at my ass in the pair of dark wash jeans I’ve been gifted. Pretty damn good if I do say so myself. I wonder how he knew my size; I could have put on a hundred pounds over the past six years for all he knew.

Has he been watching me? Checking on me? No, surely not. After all, he left me high and dry. There wouldn’t have been a reason to look back. He’s famous, a star quarterback; he can have anything or anybody he wants. He made it crystal clear he didn’t want me.

I’m cinching the tie of a long plum-colored sweater when a frantic voice comes from the kitchen. It sounds like Casey, but she’s talking to someone.

Before I can pull on my boots, Casey bursts into the room, chasing a hundred-pound black and white Great Dane.

“Lady! Come back here right now, you naughty dog,” she yells, gripping the doorframe to keep her balance.

Lady rushes me, and I only have time to take one step back before she’s got her paws on my shoulders, licking my face.

“Oh my God! Ms. Amero, I’m so sorry. I was bringing you breakfast, and she must have followed me. Damn dog knows how to push the handle on the back door down to escape. I’m usually more careful,” Casey says, rushing to pull Lady off of me.

“Oh no, it’s fine. She just surprised me. Didn’t you, pretty girl?”

I scratch Lady’s neck and behind her ears, and she nuzzles me appreciatively, pushing her head against my chest, nearly knocking me off balance. She’s a huge muscular animal, but graceful and beautiful at the same time.

“Aw, you’re a good girl. Aren’t you, Lady?”

Casey groans, “Not today she’s not. Come on, Lady, get down. You know better than to jump on people.”

Casey tugs on Lady’s collar, and she retreats. Lady is still imposing on all fours. If I weren’t so comfortable with dogs, I’d be afraid of her. She sits down next to me, facing Casey defiantly, as if to say, “Ha ha. I’m safe here. You can’t get me.”

“Look at her all smug and arrogant.”

I chuckle when Lady looks up at me as if to say, “Are you going to let her talk about me like that?”

“Just like her owner,” I say.

Casey looks at me with surprise.

“Oh yes, I know he’s an ass. You don’t have to tiptoe around me.”

I can tell Casey doesn’t know what to say. She probably wants to agree with me, but she also needs to keep her job.

“It’s okay, Casey. Lady can stay, if it’s not breaking any rules of course.”

She looks relieved that I’ve taken her off of the hot seat.

“Well, she’s not supposed to be in here,” she says, looking directly at Lady. “And she knows she’s not supposed to jump on people.” Lady looks away when she scolds her, and I laugh.

“I’m sorry. I know rules are important, but she’s really funny, Casey.”

The corner of Casey’s lip lifts in a semi smile. “Yeah, she’s a riot. I can’t even walk her anymore. She pulled my arm out of its socket a few months ago when she saw a rabbit. Alfred walks her now.”

Lady tips her head up to look at me. “You did that?” I ask, and she blinks innocently as I rub her head.

“Did you say something about breakfast?” I ask, and Casey jumps.

“Oh yes, crap,” she says, turning to leave the room. Lady lurches to follow, but I say her name with authority. “Lady. Stay,” and lo and behold, she listens.

I sit on the bench at the foot of the bed and slip my feet into the buttery soft boots that I only plan on wearing this once. I swear that man knew I wouldn’t have appropriate clothing when I arrived; it’s one more way to force me to accept his damn presents.

I check my makeup in the en-suite mirror for dog slobber and when I find that Lady has done no damage; I start for the kitchen. Lady, however, stays exactly where I told her to until I release her with a quick clap.

“Come on girl, time for breakfast.”

Lady trots along next to me into the kitchen where Casey is unpacking a bag of bagels and several different kinds of cream cheese.

“I brought you coffee. It’s black, but I stocked the fridge with a couple different creamers, and there is sugar in the cupboard. Hope that’s okay.”

“Oh yes, bless you. I’ll just take it black this morning. I need the caffeine.”

“Sorry about the wine. I told Mr. Silver you probably didn’t want it since it was hidden in the closet, but he insisted I put everything back and leave the wine out for you.”

“It’s fine, Casey. You didn’t pour the whole bottle down my throat in less than thirty minutes. That was all me. Now, I get to pay for it with a hangover from hell.”

“Maybe some food will help. Mr. Silver was upset I didn’t offer you something to eat yesterday.”

“Mr. Silver needs to mind his own business. I’ve been feeding myself for twenty-seven years without his help.”

Casey looks up from her plate of bagels with her mouth hanging slack. I guess nobody around here talks smack about the boss.

“You just keep taking good care of Lady here,” I say, throwing her a chunk of bagel. “She’s the only bitch you have to worry about.”

I take my coffee and a bagel, toss my purse over my shoulder, and make my way to the garage. I’m not usually a bitchy person, but I’m hung over, and I don’t like the way Adam is infusing himself into my life via his housekeeper. So far, the only thing I like about the new Adam is his dog.