Playing for Hearts (75 page)

After Mrs. Swanson's death, their closeness remained, but he was positive that Angie never thought of him in the same way he did. He was so careful to keep everything he was feeling to himself. Drew would've hated him for making a play for his little sister.

But it was more than not encroaching on a sacred friendship. He'd needed her more than she needed him. He connected on an emotional level with her, and she had no idea how she'd balanced his anger over his life, his mom, his sucky teenaged life. Without her, he would've slipped inside himself and hated the whole world. She gave him something to achieve, and kept his head on straight.

Then tonight, his whole goal of keeping his distance went away. He swore Angie put the moves on him. She leaned into him every chance she had. That tender smile—the one she rarely gave, preferring to let others see her more carefree and silly attitude—hit him square in the gut twice tonight.

He opened his eyes and turned away from the window. He dived onto the bed and groaned. Was he willing to throw away the only family he gave a damn about to see if Angie saw anything in him?

To do so would gamble with his happiness. Drew's happiness. Hell, Angie's happiness if she thought of him as only a friend.

A soft knock interrupted his musings. His whole body tensed. She'd fallen asleep two hours ago. He'd checked.

He pushed himself to his feet and strode across the room. Before he opened the door, he looked down. He'd stripped down to his boxers earlier. Another knock came, and he brushed off his lack of clothing. She'd seen him in his underwear lots of times, and she appeared to have no problems with that.

He opened the door.

She gazed up at him. He refrained from saying anything or giving her any clue on where his thoughts were tonight. One sign, one gesture, one touch, and he'd have her on her back underneath him and his cock sunk deep inside her body.

Without a word, she walked past him and climbed up on the bed. Her ass wiggled as she crawled atop the mattress to the far side closest to the window and snuggled under the covers. He raised his gaze to the ceiling, pleading for death. He'd never make it until morning without touching her.

He quietly closed the door, and walked over to the bed. Like last night, he laid on top of the covers on his back. He clasped his hands behind his head, and went over football plays in his head.

Unlike last night, Angie remained quiet. No questions or speculations came from the other side of the bed. No wacky questions he had no answers to or that made him laugh no matter how hard he tried not to. The change set heavy on his chest.

More than an hour went by, listening to Angie's breathing soften and slow. He closed his eyes, knowing he had to get some sleep. The first week of practice always kicked his ass and without enough rest, he'd suffer.

Forcing his breathing to relax, he heeded Angie's example and let himself sleep.

Sometime later, he woke and held still. Aware of Angie in his room, he moved his hand to his stomach, but her head wasn't laying on him. He opened his eyes and searched the bed, knowing something had woken him up.

Across the expanse of mattress, Angie whimpered in her sleep. He rolled to his side to watch her. She was probably dreaming and would settle down soon. Waking her up would only interrupt her sleep more.

She squirmed, fighting the blankets, until she thrust them off her upper body and got on her hands and knees. He sat up, alarmed, but something held him back.

Angie used both her hands to push on the mattress as if squishing the springs down. He moved closer and laid his hand on her back. “Ang?” he whispered. “What are you doing, honey?”

She jolted, falling back on her butt, crying out in pain. He held up his hands. “It's me. Gary.”

A low moan erupted and she pitched herself at him. He caught her, and she buried her face in his neck. He was fully awake now.

What the hell happened to her?

“Shh.” He scooted back until he leaned against the headboard and pulled her onto his lap, not letting her go. “Everything's okay. I got you.”

Her whole body trembled. He ran his hand down her back. The other one cupped the back of her head. Worried something had happened while he was asleep, he kept talking nonsense.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

She rubbed her face back and forth against his chest. He sensed moisture on his skin and realized she was crying. Useless and unprepared, he had no idea how to make her feel better.

He kissed the top of her head. “Did you have a bad dream?”

She stiffened, holding on to him tightly. He took that as a yes. His rising panic eased back down to concern. A nightmare he could handle.

“I'll get you a drink of water…” He shifted to set her on the bed, and she raised her head, anxiety etched around her eyes. “It's okay, I'll be right back.”

She nodded shakily.

“Okay.” He kissed her forehead. “I'll turn on the hall light and leave the bedroom door open while I go to the kitchen.”

He hurried out of the room, hit the light switch on his way down the hall, and continued on his way to get some water. On his way back to the bedroom, he hoped to find her asleep but when he cleared the door, she was sitting on the edge of the bed wiping her face.

“Here you go.” He handed her the glass and sat beside her.

Her hand shook, and he put his arm behind her and rubbed her back. Slowly, she stopped trembling and emptied the glass. He carried the cup to the dresser and returned to the bed.

Without telling her to get back on her side of the bed, he lay down and took her with him. He pulled her back against his chest, and wrapped his arm around her waist. She took his hand with both of hers, and clutched it between her breasts. His legs molded with hers. Holding her this way reminded him how tiny she was compared to him.

A better man would've put any sexual thoughts out of his mind. She was scared and upset after having a bad dream, and needed comfort. A friend would give her the security of knowing she could rest and he'd protect her from whatever dream bothered her sleep.

Not him.

The hollow spot between her breasts swallowed his hand, surrounding him in warmth, the kind of heat that only came from having a woman's body holding his. Her ass fit perfectly in the curve of his body. Her smooth legs were like silk against his hairier ones. He wasn't immune to the differences.

She smelled of warm vanilla, reminding him of the scent he picked up at the club when he was close enough to kiss her and had him dreaming of the possibilities of having his feelings reciprocated.

He hardened at the thought.

He also breathed heavy against her ear.

He was out of control.

He was an asshole.

She didn't need to worry about him right now or what was pressing against her backside, or him wishing she'd roll over so he could—

Tied. I'm facing off with Kanu from the Steelers. There's blood in his eyes. I bend low and dive for his legs. Kanu fumbles the ball…

Shit. Football will not help me. I'm calling Drew in the morning.

Gary checked his phone for the fourth time since leaving the condo. Angie walked beside him toward the practice field in Renton, north of Seattle. He'd closed himself off all morning, and since she'd spent Saturday with Jules alone, and shopping for more appropriate clothes for her new job on Sunday, she had no idea what was bothering him.

Ever since she made a fool of herself after having a nightmare about losing her mother again while sleeping in his bed on Friday night, she'd fought the funk that permeated her days. As soon as practice was over and she was alone, she'd call Drew. Maybe after talking with him, finding out if she was crazy or not, she'd know how to approach Gary about her attraction to him.

Attraction. Such a silly word for what was happening to her. She wanted him, and for more than just sex. She loved having him in her life, and missed him when they were apart. Jules might be her best friend when it came to everyday life and girl fun, but Gary was a constant. He was the one person she allowed herself to feel vulnerable around, and she never realized how much until she spent twenty-four hours a day with him.

With him, she wasn't uptight, driven, focused on all the menial things that distracted her from living life. He gave her hope and confidence to stick with a plan and see it through. She was here, working for the Seahawks, because of him. She'd survived her teenage years because of him. In the back of her mind, she had a deep sense of security around him, and it had been placed there years ago, by him.

And it scared her to death.

Her fear of losing another person in her life—and she knew it was irrational—kept her from so many things. That was something she didn't allow anyone to know. Not Drew, not Jules, and not Gary.

Except, Gary would find out if she continued sleeping with him and she kept waking up having the same damn nightmare she'd had since she was eighteen years old. She sighed and stopped at the sidelines to the field.

“Nervous?” Gary shoved his phone into his bag and tossed it to the ground.

She inhaled deeply and shrugged. “A little. I'm supposed to meet John in a half hour. Apparently Hagman is returning with a strained hamstring. I'll be working on him today. My first foray into working with guys twice the normal size of the males I usually worked on.”

“Hagman's small.” Gary studied her, seeming to want to say something more.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, it's something. What were you going to say?” She laid her hand on his arm. “You've been quiet the last couple of days. Is it something you want to talk about, or I should ignore you because it's normal pre-season stress?”

He gazed out on the field where his teammates tossed a football around, warming up and waiting for the start of practice. “Watch out for the guys. They can act like assholes around a woman.”

She laughed softly. “I think I understand how boys act. I grew up with you and Drew, right?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just let me know if anyone steps out of bounds.”

She nudged his arm with her shoulder. “You sound like my brother going all overprotective.”

“I'm not your brother.” He walked off, looping into a jog as he hit the fifty-yard line to join the others.

She couldn't win lately. Nothing she said or did helped get Gary in a better mood. She glanced at her phone to check the time, and decided calling Drew with the remaining twenty minutes she had until John showed up would save her time later.

She hit the button and held the phone to her ear. On the third ring, Drew picked up.

“Hey, sis.”

“Hey.” She smiled, genuine warmth filling her. She missed his ugly mug. “Can I just say that getting out of Deadhorse was the best thing for me?”

He laughed. “Happy, huh?”

“Yeah…” She watched Gary throw a football in a perfect arched spiral through the air. “What have you been doing?”

“Same ol'. Decided to paint the garage, since I took in two custom jobs in the past week,” he said.

“That's great.” She shoved her free hand in the front pocket of her yoga shirt. “Did the gas company change their rotation to Thursdays for you?”

“Yeah, I had no problems changing the contract.” He paused. “You didn't call me to talk about the garage. What's up?”

She turned away from the field, and even though Gary wasn't paying attention to her now, she felt guilty for talking behind his back. “What do you know about Gary's love life?”

Drew cussed. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I'm serious, Drew.” She paused, waiting, but he didn't seem in a hurry to spill his secrets. “Come on, I'm curious. I know he talks to you.”

“Does this have anything to do with him calling me about fifty times since Saturday morning? He keeps catching me asleep or with my hands covered in grease. What did he do, get himself stuck with some chick who became obsessed with him like the last woman he dated?”

“What?” She shook her head. “No. What girl?”

“Old news. He had a woman he dated a few times about a year ago, and she wanted something more and started stalking him. That's why he moved to the gated condominiums. He was tired of answering his door at all hours of the day and night to find her wanting to visit,” Drew said.

“Oh geez, that's awful.” She paced as she continued. “No, I don't think he has a problem with a girlfriend. He says he's not seeing anyone.”

“He never ‘sees' someone. That's not Gary's way. I think it has to do with the way he grew up, and living with the losers who called themselves his foster parents. He's not big on relationships or getting serious. Not that he doesn't have his share of women; he has more than he needs.”

“About that…” She sat down on a nearby bench. “Don't you think he'd be happy if he was in a relationship?”

“Are you serious?” Drew said.

“I mean, he's a great guy. We both know that. He deserves to have someone in his life to make him happy,” she said.

“I won't argue with that, but I'm going to stop you right now, because I know you. You're going to drive him insane, and it's the wrong time for you to be a pain in his ass. So tell your friend you're not going to set Gary up with her. He doesn't do blind dates.”

“But what if it's someone special?” She wrinkled her nose, knowing how stupid she was being by not coming right out and saying it was about her, not a friend. “Let's just speculate for a second. Say the girl is just like me, and she's in it because she's serious. No fooling around, no playing games, and not out to screw him over. Do you think Gary is open to getting to know someone…like me?”

“Fuck, I don't know, sis.” Drew heaved a breath over the phone. “Guys don't discuss what they want in a woman besides looks, brains, and how to spot one who knows not to talk too much.”