by Kristy Marie
She pulls a roll of tape from her bag tossed haphazardly on the floor. “Double-sided tape,” she confirms as she begins to line the inside of the cup. I must look confused as shit because she shushes me with a finger to my lips before I can ask a question.
Fine, I’ll just hang out here, completely nude, restrained to a locker in my place of employment. You know, just another day in the life of Theo and Ans. I have to hand it to the girl, though, she’s creative.
When she finishes lining the inside of the cup, she slides the jockstrap back onto the top shelf and turns to me with a shit-eating grin.
“Let’s get you out of Michaels’ harness, yeah?”
My face falls into a frown. “You didn’t?” She restrained me in Michaels’ gear? That is low, even for her.
Her smile is contagious as she assists me in working my arms out of the straps. When she pulls it off, revealing sweat marks, and hangs it in the same locker as the sticky jockey strap, I double over laughing. It’s Michaels’ locker!
“You are the queen.” I bow between bouts of laughter.
She curtsies at my bow and places a kiss to my lips. “I bet he won’t fuck with your stats again.”
This. Girl. Was. Made. For. Me.
I lock her into an embrace and swing her around. “I am going to fuck the shit out of your bad ass,” I promise as I spin us around in the middle of the locker room.
She giggles at my threat. “Come on. You can do me in the car. Let’s get out of here before we’re caught.”
She slaps my ass before tossing me my clothes. I dress quickly, dying to leave and enjoy some much-deserved quality time with Ans.
“Dinner?” I ask as we navigate through the parking lot in search of my car.
“Sure. Mexican food?”
We are one bowl into a delicious salsa. I’ve never been here before. Brody told me about it and I was waiting until Anniston was visiting before trying it.
I absolutely love when the salsa is loaded down with cilantro, Anniston not so much, but it hasn’t slowed her down one bit as she talks animatedly about the guys. I’m not paying much attention to what she says; I’m focused on how that slight dent forms when she wants to smile but holds it back. And the way that one piece of hair never stays behind her ear.
“Theo, are you even listening?”
I tear my eyes away from her mouth as she licks the salt of her lime margarita off her upper lip. “Yes, you were saying Cade is annoying, as always. Hayes is banging every chick south of Atlanta, and Vic, Mason, and Tim are all still attached at the hip like chicks.” I wave my chip at her amused face. “Except you said it with a whole bunch of ridiculous words mixed in.”
She throws a chip at me and I easily maneuver my mouth under it, catching it. I’m a baseball player for goodness’ sake, did you think I would miss it?
“You’re an ass,” she says, but there is no bite to her words. She likes that I’m this way.
“A fine piece of ass, you mean?”
Her curls flutter with the exasperated shake of her head. “So, a little birdie told me you’ve been saying you want to retire from baseball. Is that true? Do you want to quit?”
Fucking Thad. Such a butt kisser… I bet he couldn’t wait to run and tell her all about me wanting to quit. I crumble the chip in my hand into tiny pieces, finding the motion fitting for this conversation.
Crumbling.
It never goes well when this is brought up. I go for humor instead of the serious conversation I know we are bound to have. “I think you should really refer Thad to see one of your psychologist buddies. His lying is getting out of hand. I hear that usually means you have deep-rooted issues.”
Her answering scowl is not to be fucked with. She’s in no mood for jokes. Fine.
“Maybe. It’s just a thought. With me being in Washington all the time and you in Madison, we never see each other. I could find a job. Be a coach for one of the local schools?”
Anniston doesn’t answer me right away. She takes a long sip of her drink, placing it back down gently. “Is that what you want? To coach some no-name baseball team for our small town?”
She’s right. I wouldn’t be happy coaching some sniveling little brats who think their shit doesn’t stink, not that I was that way or anything. But I’m not happy traveling with the MLB either. I want to spend my nights wrapped up on the sofa with Anniston, arguing over whose day it is to have the remote. I want to fart under the covers and hold her tight so she can’t escape the smell. I want to give Cade hell until he explodes and hits something. I want to shoot the shit with Hayes and whoop Mason’s ass in Call of Duty. Most importantly, I want to be home. With her and this crazy family she has built for us.
“I don’t know. I need to figure out something. I’m tired of spending my nights in a hotel room, living off takeout, watching bad cable on a twenty-six-inch TV. I want stay home in my own bed.” She and I both know I don’t mean my penthouse.
“You do come home, more than the daily players on your team.”
I hope she can see that I don’t give two fucks about what “daily players” get to do.
I want to come home.
End of story.
I am tired of playing for the Saints. I had offers for trade but the Saints wouldn’t give in. No way are they going to give up my 0.98 ERA. If I’m going to leave this ball club I will have to buy out my contract. The millions I would fork out for that will be a hit, but at this point, I would be willing to do anything.
“Anniston, I don’t want to fight about this. I know you love that I play but I don’t want to anymore.”
Her eyes go wide in disbelief. “Is that why you play? For me?”
I shrug, popping another chip in my mouth. “No. It’s not the reason I play. I love the game. I love making money playing it. But…”
How do I put this so I don’t sound pussy-whipped?
“It’s not the same without you there. I thought it was always going to be us. Bonnie and Clyde. Seeing the country one game at a time. But then, the guys came along and all you do is help them. Which is a good thing. I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I just had a future planned for us and now…”
“Theo.” Anniston slides out of the booth, joining me in mine. She takes my fisted hand, shaking off the crumbs, and places it to her cheek. “I love you. You will always be my number one priority. I never did this to be away from you. I just needed to do something for me. To create a future for myself. That doesn’t mean I planned to leave you out of it.”
I slide her closer to me, anxious to close the gap I have created by revealing this secret. I understand why she did it. And I’m happy for her. I just feel left out and want to create a different kind of future.
“I love you, too. You’re my girl.” I rub my hand down her back, my head inching toward her delicate shoulder.
“We’ll figure it out, Theo.”
“Yeah. We will. But in the meantime, I think reducing Thad’s pay will certainly help ease the transition of quitting. Can you imagine the extra money I could save?”
We’re both laughing, humor lightening the tense debate. The waiter comes out with steaming fajitas, placing them in front of us. Anniston looks at me, back at the fajitas, and then at the waiter.
“I think we’re going to need these to go.”
I frown. “We will?”
She nods, growing more confident. “Yep. We have a plane to catch.”
I cringe knowing I’ll have to call Cade and tell him we’re coming home early and that he’s right, I am a selfish asshole. Even more so now, for putting her back in harm’s way just because I can’t stand another night in Washington.
“I’m telling you, it’s an epidemic,” Anniston chuckles at the sound of my panic. “Ebola is loose in the house.”
I pace around my room, worrying my lip between my teeth. I have been holed up in here for an hour trying to decide on the best course of action. Commander left me in charge and I really want to impress her by handling m
y charges with efficiency but…this is different.
The house has been overrun with the flu. It’s bad. Like, so bad that if I see one more gag face, I am going to vomit right alongside them. And it will be profoundly disgusting.
“Stop being such a drama queen, Major,” Anniston sighs into the phone.
I know she is exhausted from the long week she endured with Theo and the team. I heard he was giving her hell with his training.
“Cade. Seriously. How bad is it?”
I pace to the window, moving aside the curtains to view the expansive backyard. “I don’t know. Hayes came home from the store looking pale and by the time I asked what was wrong he was shivering, complaining that his bones hurt.”
Actually, we were all out hunting Lawson’s ass down. We found him parked outside the sheriff’s house, doing some kind of stakeout. It took all five of us to drag him away. I am so fucking pissed that he would endanger Anniston’s life after I told him I was able to reach my guy at the FBI. They are looking into the case and specifically instructed us to lay low. Grant, my contact, said he would let us know what he finds out. Getting Nicole out safely is their primary concern. But does Lawson listen? No. And after tonight, I am one more incident away from chaining him in the barn. It would be for his own good. And ours.
“And within the hour, Vic, Mason and Lawson started.” I groan.
“And Tim?”
“So far so good,” I answer. “Hayes has been texting me, though. He says he needs something for his fever. I gave him some Tylenol but he can’t keep it down. I’m so sorry to call you but I just don’t know what else to do.” Inhaling a deep breath, I look to the ceiling for answers.
“A fever? He has a fever?” she ponders.
“Uh huh.”
“Did they go out for dinner or something?”
I wrack my brain trying to remember what we did for dinner. No one cooked. It was Vic’s night and we unanimously voted to go out. Although, Tim and I ordered in Chinese.
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I think the guys went out. I don’t remember where. Tim and I ordered in.” I get a little giddy, thinking that just maybe the plague isn’t loose in the house. “Do you think it’s food poisoning?”
“Maybe. I’ll know more when I get home.” There’s a muffled commotion in the background. “No, Theo, we are not going to a hotel. And yes, I have to check on them. Don’t be a dick.”
I hear Theo grumble something about a bunch of nasty asses. I try to ignore him, but deep down, I know he’s right.
“I’ll be home soon.”
“What?” She’ll be home soon? That’s a surprise.
“Theo and I were heading home anyway; I should be there in about an hour if traffic cooperates.”
Fucking Theo. He was supposed to keep her in Washington throughout the weekend. I should have known he wouldn’t be able to hold up his end of the bargain. But, as much as I want to let Von Bremen have it, I’m relieved knowing I can keep my eye on her. No one will get to her with me by her side. Just try me, Lou.
“Okay. Should I do anything in the meantime?”
“Just make sure they all have fluids.” Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “And some cold compresses would be good for Hayes’s fever.”
I can hear Theo groan his disgust.
“Hang in there, Major. I’ll be home soon.”
I smile widely; already feeling better that Ans is coming home to deal with all these germs. And coming home to me.
A knock wakes me from my curled-up position in the sitting chair next to my bed.
“Cade?” Anniston’s melodic voice is a welcome sound after spending most of the night playing nurse aid to the guys.
I spring up, eager to greet her at the threshold. I drink in the sight of her. Typical leggings underneath one of Theo’s tees, her hair messy and wild like she tried pulling it up but it didn’t want to cooperate so she just said fuck it and left it in a half-ass ponytail. When my gaze meets her tired eyes, I realize just how much I’ve missed her, and I’m not talking about with the whole Ebola thing going around. I missed her. I missed us binge watching our shows and arguing about the proper way to make a bed. FYI: the sheet must always be tucked. She is just wrong.
I pull Anniston against me. She needs a hug. Okay, fine, I need it more than her but no sense admitting the truth.
Locked in my arms, she pulls back to look at me, caressing my cheek in her palm. “Hey. I missed you.”
I tug her close again with another strong hug, inhaling her unique coconut smell in the process. Although, now that I’m this close she smells a lot more like Theo than coconut. Ugh.
Finally, when I feel like my hug is getting a bit improper, I let her go.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper in her ear, tugging her ponytail just a tad.
Her lips tip at the corners like she wants to crack a joke, instead going with a little wink and teasing, “Ah. You just needed the maid.”
I shake my head with a laugh. Truthfully, I am fucking ecstatic that she is going to help clean all the germs. I don’t think I can do it. Blood, guts, shattered bones, you name it, I can handle it, but germs…that’s a negative. I’ll never admit it to Anniston though.
“Well, let me go check on my patients. I just wanted to tell you I was home.” She kisses my cheek. “Go to bed,” she orders before turning for the door.
“I’ll help you,” I blurt out before she can leave the room. It’s the least I can do since I all but pleaded for her to come home and deal with the situation.
“You don’t have to do that. It’s late. Get some rest.”
Before I can change my mind, I crowd her through the door as I pull it closed behind me. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. You need someone to help you anyway.”
She flashes me a sweet smile before leading the way down the stairs.
“Where’s Theo?” I ask curiously, following behind her. Do not look at her ass, Cade.
She snorts. “He’s in my room with a can of Lysol, spraying everything in his wake.”
We both laugh all the way downstairs. Once in her office, she gathers IV trays and bags of fluid, along with some vials of medicine. I don’t ask questions, fearing I will break her concentration. I just hold open the bag she hands me and let her fill it with supplies. When she finishes, we take the stairs two at a time to Hayes’s room.
It’s unlocked when we enter. Anniston taps briefly on the doorframe. “Hayes?”
We take a look around when he doesn’t answer right away. His room is a mess. Clothes are strewn across every solid surface. Bed inspections are going to start being random from now on. This shit is just nasty.
Just as I kick a pair of dirty underwear under the bed, groaning comes from somewhere near the floor. Anniston takes off and by the time I catch up she is kneeling over a very pale and diaphoretic Hayes.
“He’s burning up,” she tells me. “Let’s get him to the bed.”
He groans in response.
“Let me make you feel better, Handsome,” she coos, wiping wet strands of hair from his face.
I squat down beside her and nod my head toward the bag I was carrying. “I got him. Grab the bag.”
She hoists it up and moves to the bed, waiting. Wedging my shoulder under Hayes’s arm, I grab his other and pull it tight over my chest. Lifting with my legs, I get him upright. “Come on, man. A few steps to the bed.”
He nods, exhausted, but takes a few steps. We stumble but ultimately make it to the bed and I help him lay back as Anniston gets a wet washcloth ready. She wipes his face and then rolls the towel up and gently places it on his forehead. “Are you scared of needles?”
He murmurs a “no,” while she applies a tourniquet to his upper arm.
“Open up,” she orders.
Hayes, not putting up a fight at all, opens his mouth as she places a pill under his tongue.
“Let that dissolve, okay? It will help with the nausea.”
Hayes just lays there with his eyes
closed, breathing heavily.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, feeling a little useless at the moment.
Anniston tears open an IV kit and pulls out the needle. It looks bigger than I remember. “Can you put up the pole and hang the fluids?”
I look at her, then at the needle. And gulp. “I think so,” I reply a little unsteadily.
She gets set up, wiping Hayes’s arm down with antiseptic and speaks softly in his ear about not swapping spit with hookers. I almost laugh at her absurd humor, although with Hayes, it’s quite possible. Hayes cracks a smile at her comment and barely flinches when she pierces his skin with the needle.
With expert efficiency, we have the fluids going in minutes. Anniston adds another injection in Hayes’s IV before covering the now sleeping man-whore and turning off the lights.
We place three more IVs before we make it back downstairs. It’s well after midnight and we are beyond tired.
“Go on to bed. I’ll get this cleaned up.” She starts cleaning the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with today’s dishes that Tim never got around to doing.
“I’m fine,” I reply, bagging up the trash.
She cuts me a look like she could beat my ass if she had the energy, but in the end, she sighs and goes back to the dishes.
After what seems like two hours later, we’re sprawled across the sofa, utterly exhausted. It’s three a.m. and the only thing on TV is bullshit infomercials about the best total gyms. What a joke.
Anniston is curled over my lap breathing rhythmically. My guess is she is either asleep or just about there. I’m wide awake from my impromptu nap earlier this evening. Sleep will not come to me for quite some time.
I zone out to the juiced-up dude with entirely too much oil on his body trying to sell me the fact that I, too, can look like him in six short weeks. Ha. Please.
It took months to build the muscles I have and it wasn’t from one piece of equipment. It was from hurling tires, running miles uphill, and doing push-ups while Anniston sat on my back barking about the rhythm she wanted. It was hell and heaven all wrapped up in a beautiful package.
