Playing for Hearts (69 page)

Three months of bad news was more than a single person should have to put up with, and she'd reached her quota. She watched, fascinated, as Gary stripped the potatoes of their peels. Whatever had happened, she could help. She only had to convince him to let her tag along when he went back home.

Shut in Drew's bedroom, Gary stood at the window. He stared out into the darkness. No way could he tell Angie the good news without Drew here to run interference. Her impulsive behavior of throwing herself at people and kissing whoever was nearby when she became overcome with happiness called for reinforcements.

Because the news he'd come to share was going to make her dreams come true. He rotated his head, popping his neck. Her good fortune was his punishment.

Being around Angie, alone, was too much for one man to handle. He should've gone with his gut instinct to give her the news over the phone. He'd known exactly how tormenting it would be to see her again. Instead, he'd made up some lie about his muffler, hoping she wouldn't notice that his car purred better than ever.

Angie and Drew were like family. Hell, he and Drew had struck up a friendship their eighth grade year in high school. From day one, they'd been best friends.

Even though he'd grown up just another foster kid in the system, biding his time until he turned eighteen, Drew never treated him any differently. Gary had found a place in the Swanson family. Angie, being a year younger, was the little sister he enjoyed teasing.

Everything changed when she entered high school and he noticed her as a woman, not his best friend's little sister. When she came back from college, he'd gotten the biggest surprise of his life when she threw her arms around him after not seeing him for a year and kissed him hello on the lips. For her, it was just a kiss. To him, it rocked his world.

Since then, he'd only come around when Drew was with her or Angie had a friend with her to act as a buffer. He needed her and Drew more than he was willing to break them all apart by pissing Drew off and dating his little sister.

His phone beeped. He stepped over to the dresser, retrieved his cell, and read the screen.

U awake?

Leave it to Angie to text him in the middle of the night. He typed,
No.

Liar.

He moved over and reclined on the bed.
What's wrong?

Several minutes passed. He wondered if he should go across the hall and talk to her face to face. He closed his eyes for a moment. This was going to be harder than he thought. The last three years, he'd fought his attraction to her. She was like a sister. Hell, she was twenty-five years old, sexier than hell, and if she was any other woman, he'd be in her bed right this minute.

At five foot seven, when other women swayed when they walked, she strutted. And every man in the room noticed. Her breasts were firm and on the larger side, and her ass was tight. The combination was his perfect woman. Strip everything away, and she was smart. She talked about every subject under the sky, and he found himself listening, because she was interesting. He sighed. No, it was her passion. She never did anything without throwing one hundred percent into it.

Can't sleep.

He ran his thumb over the keypad.
Me ne8ter.

She replied quickly.
LOL Fat thumbs.

Yeah. Big everything.
He groaned and shook his head.

Before he could correct himself, she replied,
TMI.

Go 2 sleep.
He shut off his phone and tossed it to the end of the bed.

He couldn't wait until football started. The sport gave him an excuse to wear off tension, focus on something else besides lusting after Angie. Football was the answer to everything in his experience. It gave him a family, a position in life, a goal. He excelled at the sport and found mentoring from his coaches that kept him straight and focused. Yet, lately, he recognized that he had other needs and wishes. He wanted a relationship. One that stayed all year long and didn't end with the Super Bowl.

The blame for falling for Angie lay on his shoulders. He ran his hands over his face and plopped down on the bed, straight onto his back. Realistically, he should forget about her, move on, and find someone else to love. But his heart didn't know how to give up on a dream.

A soft
tap, tap, tap
came from the door. He rolled off the bed and stood. Worried that Angie had too much stress to handle on her own, he opened the door.

He leaned against the doorframe. “Hey.”

In an oversized white T-shirt, she stood in the lighted hallway. Her hair lay in a tangled mess over her shoulders, heavily lidded eyes gazed up at him, and her cheeks were flushed. The sight of her grabbed him by the balls and squeezed. He swept his gaze down her body and swallowed. Twice. Her bare legs, peeking out from below the hem of the shirt, stretched a mile long.

“I can't sleep,” she whispered. “Can I sit in here with you?”

Useless to deny her anything, he nodded. He'd damn well run out and get whatever she desired if she asked. And that was the crux of his problem when it came to Drew's sister.

“You'll have to move out of the doorway, big guy.” She planted her hand in the middle of his chest and pushed.

He stepped back, snapping out of fantasizing about what would happen the second she stepped into the bedroom. Conscious of standing in his boxers, he moved over and swiped his jeans off the back of the chair in the corner. He grimaced as he pulled the Levi's over his hips and stuffed the erection that he'd received the moment he opened the door inside his pants.
Football. 30 seconds to go. Tied.

Nothing helped his aroused condition. He glanced over at Angie. Oblivious to what his body and mind were doing, she curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow to her chest. Not taking any chances, he leaned against the windowsill and watched her.

“I hate the nights.” She propped her elbow on the mattress and cradled her head in her hand. “All I can think about is having to get up early in the morning to open The Gas Station.”

“It's not the worst job a person can have. It pays the bills.” He sighed heavily. The news he'd come here with would solve all her problems, but no way could he tell her she was being offered the position as the team massage therapist when she was in his room, in his bed, and the edge of her panties peeked out from below her shirt.

Hell, he wasn't sure how he was going to deal with having her around all the time, much less touching his body. He'd never be able to hide his feelings from her when it was his time to get worked over during practice. Even right now, she tempted him.

White panties. White T-shirt. Tan legs.

He groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. The vision of her laying herself out on the bed for his pleasure was going to kill him.

“At this moment, I can't think of another job I'd hate more.” She patted the bed. “Lie down and tell me about Seattle, about our friends, and all the gossip I've missed since I left.”

“Not a good idea, Ang.”

“Why not?” She scooted over. “It's not like you didn't stay at our house years ago and talk to me late into the night on lots of occasions. You were there all the time.”

“With Drew. Not you.” He walked over and sat propped against the headboard, as far away from her as he could get.

“That's not true.” She squeezed his hand. “We used to all crash in the living room after my mom died. Do you remember?”

He nodded, and then realized she probably couldn't see him sitting in the shadows. “Yeah.”

“What do you think is happening at the Metro right now?”

“Women are getting tipsy. Guys are hoping they'll get lucky,” he whispered.

“God, I miss it.” In the glow of the streetlight coming through the window, she licked her lips. “I keep hoping McGool's Day Spa will call me any day, and I'll have a job. They're the last place that hasn't rejected me, besides the Seahawks. Do you know if the team hired a massage therapist to work alongside the team's physical therapist?”

“Practice for this season hasn't started yet.” He pulled his hand away and tugged the sheet over her. “You should get some sleep.”

“What are you going to do?” She yawned.

Stay awake and try to figure out how to stop having feelings for you.
“Sit here, so you're not alone.”

“I could give you a massage…”

“No, thanks.”

“It'll put you to sleep,” she said.

He snorted. “I doubt it.”

“God, I need to get a job. A new job.”

“Go to sleep, Ang.” He smoothed back the hair on her forehead. “Close your eyes and dream about whatever it is girls dream about.”

She pulled her arm out from underneath the blanket. He closed his eyes. If he stopped talking and pretended to rest, maybe she'd go to sleep. He could always go out and lie on the couch if he grew tired enough to shut off his mind.

Her breathing quieted. He rarely saw her anymore. Sure, they ran into each other at the clubs when she lived in Seattle. She'd be with her friends, and he usually ended up leaving because he couldn't stand to see her with other men. Or he'd stay and chase them away. She was full of life, and it killed him to watch her dance and flirt with others while her relationship with him consisted of jokes, slugs to his arm, and reminders of how he was put in her friend category.

She never noticed that his teasing had stopped after his short stint with the Pittsburg Steelers ended and he was traded to his hometown team, the Seattle Seahawks. She'd finished college and with the experiences of an adult, she had a confidence and beauty that grabbed him and never let go. He'd tried to ignore the attraction, so he stayed away, preferring to give her tickets to the games, and making sure Drew was in town and with him when he went over to her apartment.

A half hour later, he opened his eyes. Her hair fanned out across the pillow. He caught one of the loose curls, and rubbed the silky strand between his thumb and finger. Her spirit made everyone around her happy, and to see her depressed and out of her element pained him.

She sighed in contentment. He cupped the top of her head with his hand. His news would change her life. She deserved to have her mind at rest, but he also knew there would be no stopping him from taking her in this bed to celebrate her good news if he told her tonight while they were alone.

She frowned as she rested and squirmed closer. Helpless, he could only be here for her as a friend. He stroked her hair. “Shh.”

She jolted awake, peered up at him, and sighed. “Are you sleeping?”

“Yeah.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “Go back to sleep. I'll stay here with you.”

She laid her head back on the pillow. “I hate sounding whiny. It's just because I'm stressed out. Tomorrow we'll do something fun. 'Kay?”

“You don't—”

“Please.” She rolled onto her stomach and looked at him. “We'll go down to Jay's Bar. You'll have to pay because I'm practically broke, but they have a band that comes in. They're not too bad. Nothing like what you can find in Seattle's underground scene, but it'll be fun.”

“You'll get your life back, Ang. You just need to give it time.”

“That's what Drew says. I hate that answer,” she whispered.

“It's the only one I'm giving you.” He grinned into the dark. “You're stubborn.”

“I'll not only clean your house, I'll chauffeur you to your practices and anywhere else you want to go.”

“Give it up.”

“I'm serious.” She scooted over and laid her head on his lap. “Think about it. No more worries about finding a designated driver when you want to go out and party, food magically showing up in your fridge, and a piece of chocolate on your pillow. It'd be like staying at the ritziest hotel.”

“Go to sleep…”

“What if I throw in a personal massage twice a week?” she said, softly.

He closed his eyes. “I'll think about it.”

“Yes.” She scrambled to her knees and kissed his cheek. “You won't regret it.”

“I'm already regretting it, and the answer is no if you don't go to sleep and leave me alone.” He growled to prove his point.

She flopped down and curled against him. It took him several minutes to slow his heart rate down from having her pressing against him. Tomorrow, she'd have her news, and begging to live with him would be a moot point. With having her unavailable to him, maybe he could finally move on.

The bell inside The Gas Station rang, signaling another customer at the pumps. Angie hopped off the stool behind the counter and hurried out the front door. Deadhorse might be a small town, but being close to a major interstate meant there were always customers stopping for gas, and she kept busy.

She leaned over and smiled at the older man driving the Pontiac. “How much can I get you today?”

“Where's Drew?” The man's bushy gray eyebrows met in the middle and he frowned. “Don't tell me he took off on vacation. I was going to have him fix the fender bender my wife received in the parking lot over in Claymont.”

“He's coming back today.” She glanced behind the car at Gary walking her way. “I'm his sister.”

Gary approached the door of the car, laid his hand on her back, and said, “I've got this, Ang. Why don't you go inside? I brought Chinese food back from Claymont and set it on the counter inside. You can eat.”

“Thanks.” She patted his arm.

Inside the station, the aroma of sweet and sour sauce filled the little room. Her stomach growled. Peeking inside the bag, she pulled out a fortune cookie. Without reading the paper, she popped the cookie in her mouth and tossed the paper on the counter.

The phone rang. She hurried to finish chewing, swallowed, and picked up the receiver. “Hello, you've got The Gas Station. How can I help you?”