Playing for Hearts (79 page)

“I don't think I can do slow.” She bucked underneath him.

“Honey,” he muttered. “I've wanted you too long. I'll finish before I start and I'm taking you with me.”

Then he did as he promised, moving her, stroking her, filling her. Her eyes closed from the sheer beauty, and she had to force them open because she wanted to experience it all.

Her core coiled tighter. She reached for what she knew was right there out of her reach, but pulled back because she never wanted it to end. Gary brought his mouth down and moaned against her lips, riding her harder. That was all she needed.

She drove her hips up, grinding against him, and she cried out as her world exploded for the second time. Gary trembled on top of her, going down on his elbows and rolling to the side with her, not letting her go. She laid her head against his chest, breathing hard, dizzy, and unsure if she was sleeping or awake.

She'd just made love to Gary Satchel, and it was way better than she could have ever imagined.

After making love and finally pulling themselves out of the bedroom, Angie's shoe tapped against the hardwood floor in the living room. Gary leaned back on the couch and clasped his hands behind his head. He hoped his relaxed pose hid the worry he tried so hard to hide.

He'd finally done it. He'd slept with the woman of his dreams, he'd sealed his heart, he'd stamped his woman with a tattoo across her ass and claimed her. His chest warmed and he wanted to throw back his head and laugh himself insane. He finally had everything he'd ever wanted, and despite his life spiraling out of control, a huge part of him wanted to celebrate.

Making love to Angie was better than he'd imagined all these years. He no longer believed he was falling in love with her, he was positive he loved her. Two people couldn't have that kind of reaction to each other and claim it was anything short of destiny.

He only wished someone would tell him what he was supposed to do next.

“We'll explain what happened,” Angie said.

He shook his head. “Rules are rules. They don't give a damn that our feelings are real or that we've known each other forever. You're an employee, I'm a player, and the two don't mix. So far, they haven't found out you're staying with me, but someone is going to notice you get in my car after every practice. It's only a matter of time.”

“It's unfair.” She crossed her arms and paced in front of him. “There's got to be a way around everything.”

“We'll wait until the season is over, and then decide how we'll approach everyone. Your contract must be renewed every year, right?”

She shook her head. “Two years. I took a hundred dollars a month cut to guarantee two years, thinking I was doing the right thing to secure employment.”

“Ang…” He closed his eyes a moment, thinking twenty-four months of hiding their relationship—or worse, not seeing her—would kill him.

“Sorry.” She walked into the kitchen, removed a pop from the fridge, and returned to the living room. “I didn't know at the time that we'd get together or—”

“I know.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “We'll play it cool. When you're around the team, you don't look at me, speak to me, or touch me.”

“That sucks.” She approached him until he leaned back, and then she climbed up on his lap. “What about riding together to practice and later to the stadium or the airport?”

“We'll stick with the story that you're a family friend who is staying with me until a condominium opens up near me. That's what you wrote on your employment paperwork. The HR department probably won't question it, and the players will never find out.” He put his hands on her hips and dragged her forward.

She held her can up in the air to keep from spilling her pop. “No, I'm an awful liar. All they have to do is ask me, and they'll know we're having sex.”

“Okay, we won't say anything. We'll evade the questions.”

She perked up. “I still have my car in storage. We can go separately to practice. They'll never know where I go when I leave.”

He grinned, leaning forward to nuzzle her neck. “Perfect.”

“We'll keep it a secret.” She nudged him, and he pulled away. “This could be fun. They say the thing that attracts people to having an affair is hiding their secrets. It's the thrill and mystery of it all. Only we'll be the only ones who know we're getting hot and sweaty when alone.”

He fell back against the couch and laughed. “Shit. Only you would go there.”

“Well, it is kind of cool. Once we tell everyone, and Drew knows…”

He groaned and grabbed her under her arms and set her off his lap. “Fuck. I need to call Drew.”

How could he have forgotten? The one thing that had kept him from going anywhere with Angie was the fact that he was best friends with Drew. “He better answer his damn phone today.”

“Wait!” She scrambled to her feet. “You can't tell him.”

“Why not?” He held his cell in his hand. “I'm not keeping it from him.”

“Because I don't want him to know.” Angie sucked in her bottom lip. “Not yet.”

His chest tightened and he dropped his arm. “What aren't you telling me?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I just want to wait.”

“Two days.” He pointed at her. “That's all I'm giving you. We'll take the two days we have off, and decide how we'll approach Drew.”

She nodded. “Yeah. That's good.”

“This is a bad idea,” he mumbled. “I don't know what the hell I'm doing.”

Angie gasped, and the hurt in her eyes tore at his heart. He moved toward her when the doorbell rang. He looked between her and the door, knowing he had to explain how he was feeling.

“You regret last night? This morning? All week?” She spoke low, angry, and hurt.

“Yes…no.” He growled and looked at the ceiling in despair. “We'll talk as soon as I find out who in the hell is at the door and send them away.”

Everything between them was going too fast, despite him wanting her for years. He couldn't forget who he was and where their careers were going. She deserved someone who would be there for her all the time. Someone stable and family oriented. Not some playboy football player who came from a bad background who didn't have the balls to take their relationship public.

He stalked to the door. Yeah, when he thought about having sex with her, he regretted it, because of the secrets she'd created to keep their relationship hidden. The secrecy, the lies, the hiding…none of that she deserved, and he had taken her there when he'd decided to give up and sleep with her. He was the one responsible for fucking up her life, and they weren't even truly together yet.

He yanked the door open. “What?” he snapped.

“Hello to you too.” Bruce smacked the back of his hand against Gary's chest. “I thought we were meeting downtown for lunch.”

Bruce, world champion bass fisherman, was one of his best friends. He hadn't seen him since they got together in Cottage Grove a few months ago.

“Shit. I forgot you were flying in today.” Gary stepped back. “Come in. I can grab you a beer at least.”

Bruce walked into the condominium and stopped at the sight of Angie standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed. “Hey, I'm sorry. I had no idea Satchel had company. I'll stop by next time I'm in town.”

He slapped Bruce on the back. “It's just Angie, Drew's sister.”

“Angie?” Bruce moved forward and held out his hand. “I think we met once before, right?”

Angie flashed a look at Gary, and turned to Bruce for the handshake. “Yes. At one of the clubs…I think the Blue Indigos were playing that night.”

“That's right.” Bruce's gaze lowered and took in Angie.

Gary cleared his throat and walked into the room. He handed a beer to Bruce. “Sit.”

Angie pointed to the hallway. “I'm going to change and go out. Have a nice visit.”

Gary sidestepped toward her. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” She nailed him with a look, spun on her heels, and walked out of the room.

He ran his hands through his hair, and stared after her. She had a right to be upset. What they were doing sent both their lives into a tiebreaker, and he'd fumbled the ball.

“Yo, I'll leave…” Bruce set down his beer.

Gary turned around and shook his head. “Nah, stay.”

They both sat down, Bruce on the couch, Gary on the chair, and neither one said anything. Gary picked at the knee of his jeans. He should go talk to Angie. She had to understand they were making a mistake.

“Woman trouble?” Bruce pulled from the bottle. “I'm sorry for interrupting. I should've called on my way over here.”

“It's fine. You're fine.” Gary grimaced. “I'm the one that's a mess. I don't know what the hell I'm doing.”

Angie stepped into the living room, gazed at both of them, and said her goodbye to Bruce, ignoring him completely. She quietly closed the door on her way out. Gary winced, feeling the click of the door as if he'd taken a head-on tackle. He would've preferred her to slam her way out, yell at him, tell him to go to hell.

A quiet Angie scared him.

“You want to talk?” Bruce finished off his drink.

Did he? Could he? He sighed. Bruce was part of Gary's group of pro athlete friends—probably the only people in the world who would understand his predicament. Grayson Schyler was already married with a kid, Dominic Chekovsky was married and playing hockey in San Jose, Juan Santiago—hell, he never left his wife's side long enough to have a decent talk anymore. Crista was…

“What's Crista doing lately?” he said.

“Taking some R and R from the Ironman, but she's still teaching her exercise class on the big island.” Bruce chuckled. “She called up to bitch me out a few days ago. Supposedly, she heard through the grapevine that I was seeing Barbara Delaney.”

“The actress?” He whistled at Bruce's nod.

Bruce shook his head. “It isn't true, but I let Crista go on believing the rumor. I figure in a few days she'll fly over and explain to me how stupid I am. I'll let her stew, just so I can hold this against her.”

“Cruel,” he muttered. “You two have a messed up friendship.”

Gary gazed at the closed door. Bruce at least had a friendship with Crista, and could withstand Crista's temper. Angie had the ability to crush him.

“Hey, man, talk to me. You look like you're in thick with it.” Bruce stretched his legs out and leaned back on the sofa.

“This goes no further than this room.” He waited until Bruce nodded and then confessed. “I slept with Angie.”

Bruce smiled. “She's hot.”

“She's Drew's sister. Fuck, she's practically family…the only family I've claimed and cared about.” Gary ran his tongue over his teeth. “Drew doesn't know, and if anyone on the team finds out, Angie will lose her job. She's working as the massage therapist under the physical trainer now.”

“Hang on. Did you screw up because you crossed the line and you're playing her?” Bruce rubbed his hands along his thighs. “I've never known you to let yourself go and have a good time. You've always kept women at a distance, and stayed out of long-term relationships. Man…if you're leading her on, I can't blame you for being worried. She doesn't look like your typical fangirl.”

“She's not.” He stood. “And our relationship isn't like that.”

“Then tell me how it is, so I can understand.”

Gary walked over to the window, opened the drapes, and then leaned against the windowsill. Nobody would understand, because he'd refused to allow anyone close to him. Even his best friends only knew what he wanted them to see.

“I'll figure it out on my own,” he said.

“You sure?” Bruce asked.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

His feelings toward Angie were his, and only his. He didn't want to share. He couldn't. Because what he held in his heart was the one wonderful thing in his life that was given freely, and she'd never asked anything in return from him. “I'll handle things.”

Angie parked her Chevy in the driveway and shut off the engine. Three hours after leaving Gary's condominium, she no longer wanted to cry over the lackluster way Gary talked about her toward Bruce and his reluctance to move forward with a relationship. She wanted to kick him in the nuts.

She slammed the door on her way out, and marched up to the front door. Refusing to use her key, she pounded on the wood. If he wanted to treat her like a stranger after taking her to bed, she'd treat him the same.

The door opened, and Gary leaned against the doorframe. He did a full body scan, returning to her eyes, and his jaw twitched in amusement. Unprepared for his change in mood, she scoffed and stared at him in disbelief.

He wasn't worried. Hell, he was probably enjoying the freedom of having his place to himself for the last few hours. She shook her head, nailing him with a shoulder to his ribs as she swept past him. Fine. If he wanted to sit back and laugh at her, he could do it alone.

She marched to the spare bedroom and slammed the door. Too ticked off to sit, she paced. She'd expected him to apologize at the least. At the most, grovel. He'd treated her horribly and embarrassed her in front of Bruce. He'd denied any relationship with her in front of one of his friends.

Not one of the players on his team or a coach or one of his neighbors, but one of his good friends who she knew he hung around with in his free time. Someone they both knew, and someone who wouldn't tell anyone their secret.

The door opened. Gary filled the room.

“Get out,” she said.

“We need to talk.” He moved inside. “I get that I handled this afternoon badly when Bruce stopped by.”