Sidelined: A Wilde Players Dirty Romance (6 page)

When I walk inside, my eyes have to adjust to the darkness. The place is empty, as it’s only eleven o’clock.

A voice calls out from the rear, “Sorry, we’re not open yet. That door shouldn’t have been unlocked.”

“Oh, I’m not here to eat. I was wondering if Gina was in.”

The sound of shuffling feet can be heard, and then a man walks up to me. “And who wants to know?”

I hold out my hand saying, “Hi, I’m Fletcher Wilde. I’m an acquaintance of hers.”

The guy wipes his hands on his apron before he shakes mine. He’s middle-aged with graying hair around his temples, and his reaction makes me wonder if this is Gina’s boyfriend or something. “Oh, right. Heard about you from her. Sam O’Reilly.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. Hey, I’m not trying to step in your space or anything.”

“Huh?”

“You know. You and Gina.” My fingers make a V, and I point them at him.

“Oh, no. We’re not … we’re just … I’m her boss. Or she’s more like mine, if you know what I mean.”

I’m pretty sure he’s talking about that sassy mouth of hers. I laugh. “Yeah, I know exactly what you’re saying. “

He checks out my knee and crutch and asks, “So, how’s the recovery going? I pull for the Rockets because of you—you know, hometown boy and all.”

“Thanks, man. It’s going. That’s about all I can say.”

“Man, I’m really sorry. You got totally fucked, if you don’t mind me saying.”

“Nah, I tell it to myself every day. I’m just hoping Cassidy can get me back into shape by some miracle when training camp hits.”

“So, Gina?”

“Oh, do you know when I can catch her?”

The dude rubs his whiskered chin for a second. “Listen, she’s not due in till five, but I can pull some strings.”

“How?”

His head flicks upward. “She lives upstairs, but don’t tell her I told you.”

When he says that, I remember Cass saying those same words to me. “Gotcha, and thanks, man. I owe ya.”

The staircase is a bit like climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, but I take them one at a time and cross my fingers when I knock on the door.

“Goddammit, Sam, it’s my morning off. Go away,” a voice comes from the caverns of what lies behind the wooden door.

“It’s not Sam.”

After a short pause, a cheeky reply hits me. “Goddammit, whoever it is, it’s my morning off. Go away.”

My mouth curves into a grin. “You mean you’re not the least bit interested in finding out who stands on the other side of this door?”

“Not in the least.”

“What if I’m the Publisher’s Clearing House dude and I have your million dollar check?”

“You don’t. Go away.” I hear something crash into the door.

“What if I’m the Power Ball guy and I have your check worth twenty-seven million?”

“You aren’t. Now get the fuck out of my face.”

Then I remember she drives a Harley so I say, “What if I’m Jax Teller and I’m here to give you my patch?”

“Huh?”

“You know. Like on that TV show?” I ask.

“I don’t watch TV. Go the fuck away.”

Knowing I’ve run out of options, I lay it on the line. “What if I’m Fletcher and I’m here to enlist your help in getting Cass back because I am now and have always been madly in love with her? I desperately want her back in my life. And I think if she’s honest with herself, she wants the same. And I swear to you on my life I will never hurt a single hair on her head.”

Dead silence. I don’t blame her since I have diarrhea of the mouth. When I’m about to head down the stairs in defeat, I hear the lock click and the door crack open.

She looks like she stepped out of a hurricane as she rubs at the corners of her eyes like I woke her up. Though she’s dead serious when she says, “How can I believe you?”

“It’s the truth, Gina. I have always loved her. And only her. I’ve only been with three women since we broke up, and none of them meant a single thing to me other than a bed warmer when needed.”

She swings the door open wide and says, “Come in.”

I walk through, and before I can open my mouth, she points a finger at me and says, “And not a word about my place or the way I look.”

And I can understand why. It looks like there was an all-out battle in here or maybe that hurricane did happen, and it was confined to her place. A chair is overturned, couch cushions are on the floor, an empty liquor bottle sits on the coffee table, and Gina looks like she’s been well fucked. It all adds up, the messy hair, swollen lips, not to mention the small hickey on her neck, and her cheeks look abraded from some guy’s scruff. I hope she had a great time.

“Not a word,” I say, grinning.

“So, you want her back, huh? After how you left her?”

“That’s not how it went, and you know it.”

She crosses her arms and gives me that
uh-huh
look. “Then tell me your rendition, Fletcher.”

“She didn’t want to leave because of school and her dad. At the time, I didn’t quite understand, but now I do. But when we could’ve been together, she misunderstood what was happening, all the staged media attention. And I was too green to say no when they pushed me, and I did everything they told me to. She assumed all the pictures were real, and they weren’t. The damage was done in her mind, but I didn’t know. It was catastrophic for us. And I tucked my tail and went away to lick my wounds. But, Gina, you have to believe me when I tell you this. I’ve never stopped loving her. It took me years to go through a day without constantly thinking about her.”

“But you weren’t there when she cried days on end over you. I thought she’d join a nunnery until she met Fuckdud. You left her primed and ready for that piece of shit to pick up where you left off.”

Damn. She holds up a hand. “I’m not done. As much as I hate your ass, you’re right. There is some part of her that never let go of you.” She shakes her head in disgust. “You two. Can you not just figure your shit out once and for all?”

It guts me thinking about Cass in tears. If she’d cried just once back then, I might have given up everything. But she hadn’t. She’d come at me with anger or resigned to us parting ways. I’d assumed she was done with me.

“That’s why I’m here. I need you to help me.”

She points a finger at me. “If she finds out I’m helping you, she’ll cut my boobs off. And I mean it, Fletch. She may still have a sweet spot for you, but she’s moved on.”

“Can you not just give her a few nudges in my direction? Like maybe say how I’m trying or to think about that I might have changed or to maybe give me the benefit of the doubt?”

She finger-combs the snarled nest of her hair, but only manages to make it scarier than it is. “She’s gonna want to know why I’ve changed my mind about you, ’cuz I’ll be honest. I’ve been your worst enemy. I’ve called you every name in the book since then.”

“I get that. You’re supposed to because you’re her best friend.”

“So, how will I explain my reversal? And besides, she says you’re a grumpy asshole.”

My head falls back as I shut my eyes. Of course, she would think that. Why wouldn’t she? My aunt and Rita thought the same. My agent, too, if I’m honest.

“There’s a good reason for that. It’s because of this.” I motion to my knee and then my shoulder. “I haven’t been the best of company. That stupid accident really did a number on me, and there’s a strong possibility I may be out for an entire season. But what’s bad about it is this is my contract year. In the best of circumstances, if I have a so-so year, I could get traded. But if I don’t play at all, well, you can figure it out. My agent is going ape shit on my ass to get in playing condition, and so is everyone else. This could be my career-ender. All because of some asshole. I don’t mean to be a prick, but this has really sucked for me.”

Her eyes soften one degree less than looking at me like I’m prey. “Damn, Fletcher, does Cass know this?”

“She knows I could be cut from the team.”

“What did she say?” One eyebrow lifts as she studies me.

“It was on my first visit to her. She didn’t seem affected one way or the other about my news. She just wanted to keep it professional.”

The other brow shoots up as her eyes pop. “That doesn’t sound like my bestie. I question if she heard you or if she was shocked about you being her patient.”

“That part doesn’t matter. I’m not here for sympathy. I just want her back in my life.”

“Then why wait until now? I mean, if that accident hadn’t happened, would you be trying to get her back?”

I have to think for a second, which Gina interprets as no. “See, maybe you need to think about this some more.”

“I have thought about it. But I’d heard she was married.” Though I never told her that. “I thought she’d moved on.”

Gina nods, and I think I’ve won her over. “So we need to persuade her that you’re a safe bet,” she says, then suddenly her face lights up.

“What?”

“I know you can’t do anything, like throw a ball, but I have an idea. Leave all the details up to me. Give me your number, and I’ll call you and tell you where you need to be. This is gonna be good, Fletcher.”

Cassidy

My body aches in a good way. Fletcher has always made me crave the next taste of him. We’d been each other’s first and had explored every inch of each other. He’d been open to finding out what got me off as much as I had with him. I hadn’t known how much I’d settled with Calvin until now.

Today shouldn’t suck, but it honestly does. I dress up, not for a date, and head over to the Boys and Girls Club to set up for the Spring Celebration party we have planned for them.

“Cass, you look nice. Do you have a date you didn’t tell me about?”

Gina gives me a one arched brow stare.

“No, no date. I never dress up these days, so I thought why not.”

She nods. “Let’s go unload your car, and I borrowed Sam’s truck.”

We spend the time setting up the space with snack food and candy. One of the local realtors in town springs for pizza for the kids. I also set up the areas for kids to make art and candy bags for their families. Several store owners on Main Street have donated stuff for the kids to use, like construction paper and other things to decorate with.

“It’s going to be good,” I say, forcing a smile.

I’m ecstatic for the kids. It’s just hard thinking about my failed marriage and all the feelings Fletcher is stirring inside me when I know he’ll be leaving weeks from now.

“It’s going to be great,” Gina says with so much enthusiasm. It makes me feel bitchy that I can’t match her excitement.

When the kids start to arrive, everything changes. Their eagerness for being here and having this opportunity takes my mind off my silly problems and gets me in the spirit of things.

“Are you guys ready for a surprise?”

As the kids cheer, I whip around to see Gina at the head of the room with her hands clasped together.

“We have a special visitor today.”

I don’t have time to piece it together before Fletcher steps around the corner. There must be a lot of football loving parents, because the kids, girls and boys alike, get to their feet and cheer like he is a rock star. Though it could be the bags he and Mark carry with goodies.

Fletcher’s face radiates as he puts the bags down.

“Who here is a Panthers fan?”

Mark waves, and so does Gina, but the kids are smarter than that. I know differently. I’ve heard a few of them talking about the Panthers who’d been in the playoffs this past season. But they aren’t stupid to a good thing.

“Okay, who’s a Rockets fan?” They jump up and down and wave. “Great, because I’ve brought some goodies.”

The next thing I know, kids are given an opportunity to choose between a jersey or a signed football. He gives the little ones first choice. I watch as he interacts with the kids, and he’s such a natural. I shouldn’t be surprised. Fletcher has always had a good heart, but to see him in action warms a place in me I thought was frozen over.

When one of the bigger kids gets his turn, I hear him ask, “Are you going to be able to play with that?” He points to Fletcher’s leg that’s in a brace.

“Not yet, but I’m hoping a certain physical therapist will get me back into shape.”

His eyes meet mine, and I feel a flush blossom in my cheeks.

One middle grader with pigtails says, “My dad says it’s your contract year, and you might get cut.”

Hadn’t he mentioned something about that in our first session?

“No football contract is guaranteed,” he explains. “That’s why it’s always good to have a backup plan.”

Interesting to hear coming from his mouth. It’s one of the things we argued about when he left school a year early for the draft.

The girl doesn’t let up, having more knowledge than her years suggest. “Didn’t you quit college for the pros?”

He nods. “It was a risk, but I didn’t give up. I took classes off-season, and I have my degree.”

My jaw comes unhinged. How had I not known? Then again, I tried my best to tune out everything Fletcher related.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

I glance up to see Mark. “Surprised about what?”

“Don’t play dumb, Cassie. We both know you did a real number on him when you broke it off and married some other guy.”

Fish-mouthing a few seconds, I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t break it off.” When several heads turn my direction, I realize I said that too loud. Quieter, I add, “He left me. He chose his career and his groupies over us. He didn’t come back either when the season was over, and he could have. He didn’t fight for us. So don’t try to put that on me,” I say in a stage whisper.

“I’ve got two more things for each of you,” Fletcher says, garnering my attention. “You guys know I put on a weeklong summer camp in Oklahoma. But this year, I’m going to do a camp here in town. And all of you are invited to participate at no cost to your parents.” More cheers. “Settle down. I also happen to have tickets for you and your family to a Panthers versus Rockets game next season.”

It’s over then. The yelling becomes deafening. I look up to see Gina with a smile on her face. Fletcher has apparently won a piece of my bestie over. And if I’m honest, he’s done the same with me.

When Fletcher comes over, I hadn’t realized Mark had walked away.