“Sounds perfect. I’ll call you around 7:30 tonight for them to say good night.”
“Right. Yeah, that’ll be great.” I checked the time and added, “I’d better get going. Thank you again!”
It was easier leaving them than I thought it would be. Janet couldn’t be farther from my mother, and I knew that while the twins were with them, they’d be perfectly safe. Not all parents were neglectful and malicious.
Hours later, I finally had time to settle, and time to think, between a couple of calls. My assigned chores had all been completed, and the other team of EMTs and paramedics were up for the next call.
I secluded myself in the bunkroom where we normally napped and plugged my ears with headphones so I wasn’t disturbed. Selecting a podcast at random, I closed my eyes and threw an arm over them for good measure. The low, measured voices from the podcast filled my ears, but I couldn’t hear them. All I could hear was the memory of Tripp’s voice.
What had I done?
My cheeks burned, though there was no one to see my embarrassment. I pressed the backs of the fingers from my free hand to them. Never in my life had I ever slept around for the fun of it. My mom used to do that during the times she and my father were separated, and I had made it a point once I did have sex to only do it with people I truly cared about.
That included Tripp, didn’t it? I cared about him. Aside from Charlie and Layla, he was one of my closest friends.
The truth was, I didn’t have any answers. I liked to think I made mature decisions when it came to my life, the kids, and my job, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing half the time. Clearly. The only thing I did a really good job at was pretending.
Pretending to have it all together.
Pretending not to care that my mother abandoned us.
Pretending I didn’t like Tripp as more than a friend.
The smart thing to do would be to tell Tripp we couldn’t do it again, but, oh, God, how I wanted to. I don’t think anyone had ever made me feel so good, which, for some reason, made me feel guilty because not being with Chris was still so new. New, but it already felt like it had been a long time.
In fact, my sisters aside, I was considerably less stressed without him in my life. I didn’t worry about how he’d react to me having even less time to be with him or his judgments about my mother leaving. Now that I was thinking about it, he never would have been as understanding as Tripp had been. Judgmental was the word I’d use to describe him. Aloof.
Maybe that’s why I’d been drawn to Chris in the first place, back when Tripp had been so overtly interested in being more than friends. Maybe a part of me had known, even then, that we weren’t going to work out. Chris was safe because I knew it would never lead anywhere. That didn’t mean I didn’t care about him. Of course I did, and maybe it made me a little heartless for moving on so quickly. But we were never going to make it. Maybe it hurt so much in the beginning because he was my comfort zone. As long as I was with him, I knew what to expect. I could control the outcome.
Controlling the outcome with Tripp…was impossible.
I fell asleep pondering my next move and listening to the podcast. When I woke up as the tones dropped, I came to the conclusion that maybe I shouldn’t fight it. Maybe the best thing to do with Tripp…was to enjoy it.
As I got ready, my phone beeped with a text message.
JANET: We’ll be in town this morning. I’ll drop the girls off at your apartment, if that’s okay.
I texted her that it would be wonderful before I headed out with my partner on the call.
When I got home a couple of hours later, Tripp was already there, fixing our leaky sink. I paused in the doorway to watch him, admiring the sliver of his abdomen bared by his shirt. The muscles contracted as he grunted and reached higher under the sink, metal clanging against metal.
Is there anything sexier than a man fixing something? I don’t think so.
He peered out at the sound of the door closing and smiled when his eyes found me. “Hey, you.”
I leaned against the kitchen island, my eyes tired from lack of sleep but hungry for him, nonetheless. “Hey. Did you all of a sudden acquire a thirst for being a handyman?”
“I’ve got skills you’ve never seen,” he said with a wink, then turned his attention back to the sink. “I’ve also got a rare day off from practice. I figured we could move the twins’ room around if you’re up to it.”
I couldn’t deny the thought had crossed my mind. They deserved their own space, and I could use a little more privacy, come to think of it. We’d shared a room since they were brought home from the hospital.
“Your mom is bringing them by in a while. Maybe we could surprise them.”
He looked back at me, surprise lining his face, which was quickly chased by wariness. “Really? I didn’t think you’d agree with me so easily. I expected more of a fight.”
“Maybe I could use some more privacy,” I teased.
That made him choke a little. “Well, alright then,” he answered.
Much as I wanted to drag him naked to my bed, or anywhere, I knew the girls would be back soon, and if we were going to get their stuff moved to my parent’s room, we had a lot of work to do. Maybe this was the friend part of friends with benefits. He had no other excuse for wanting to help me all the time the way he did.
In the end, we managed to clear out my mom and dad’s room. I packed away their things into boxes I’d nabbed from the grocery store. Tripp and I lugged their bed and dresser to the dump. Both had an oily residue and smelled strongly of cigarettes. It occurred to me that their carpets were probably cigarette soaked, too, so I moved my things into my parents’ room instead of moving the twins into the room.
I was used to the smell of smoke anyway, and my lungs weren’t nearly as sensitive as theirs.
Most of my stuff I stacked on my bed until I could reorganize it later. The most important thing was to make sure the girls’ room was straightened and pretty. I wanted them to feel secure and at home. They’d had enough change, and I wanted to give them something that would make them happy.
Tripp maneuvered their bunk beds onto the wall where my bed had been. I brought in a bookcase from the living room and gave it a good scrubbing before filling it with their little things and books. In the end, it wasn’t half bad, I had to admit. Eventually, I would like to get them more decorations and knick-knacks to really make it their own, but for now, this was more than they’d ever had, and it felt good. Really good.
Mine, on the other hand, was a bit more run-down. Years of smoke had stained the once cream-colored walls and ceiling. The floor was worn bare from overuse, but it was spacious without the girls’ furniture, and the door was solid. It was mine. It was warm. I couldn’t ask for much more.
I turned to Tripp, who was securing my dresser. “How can I repay you?”
I expected him to joke, but his eyes heated. “I can think of a few ways.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tripp
Weeks had passed, and we had fallen into a routine. One I couldn’t say I didn’t enjoy for my own selfish reasons. I’d been waiting a long time for Ember Stevens, and I was going to enjoy every single second while she was mine.
Even if it was only for a little while.
She didn’t want the twins more involved than they already were, so on the nights I stayed over, I’d get up extra early to sneak out before they woke up. There was never any PDA around them, and I made sure to keep Ember as quiet as possible. I didn’t mind that part, though. Her muffled little screams were what made it all worth it. Her ex was a grade-A dipshit for giving her up.
His loss, my gain.
He never seemed like the bright sort anyway.
“Don’t go,” she whispered in the dark one frosty November morning, causing me to pause with my shirt halfway on. Her words stroked down my spine like a caress, and I was already halfway hard from waking up beside her. Her sexy voice, rough from sleep, pushed me the re
st of the way.
I finished pulling on my shirt and sat next to her. Her flame-bright hair fanned over her pillow. I brushed it back to reveal her face and kissed her soft, pink lips. “I have to. The girls will be up soon, and I have practice.”
“Play hooky and get back into bed with me.” Her hand dipped under my shirt, her nails scratching lightly up and down my back, making me groan, and testing my resolve.
Maybe it had occurred to me on at least one occasion that the friends-with-benefits gig was good for me, too. A girlfriend during the most crucial season of my life would complicate things, and distract me from my ultimate goal. And Ember Stevens was, if nothing else, the sexiest kind of distraction.
“I wish I could, angel. But unless you ever want to see me again, I should probably go. Coach will make me run bleachers for days if my ass is a minute late again.” My body heated as I recalled a moment last month when I’d slept in barely ten minutes because I’d woken up to my alarm and wanted to spend a few more moments with her. My legs had been sore for a week because of all the running.
“I’ll give you a deep tissue massage if he makes you run. I know you like those.”
I let her draw me down for another kiss, despite my better judgment. Common sense didn’t seem to work quite right when it came to her. Heat licked along my nerves, settled low in my gut. I gave serious consideration to calling in sick—a little running never killed anybody.
She shifted, and the sheet slipped down her body accidentally-on-purpose. My muscles went tight at the sight of her pert, rose-tipped breasts and flat belly. I wanted my head in between her shapely thighs and my mouth on her heat until she was as wound up as she constantly made me.
I couldn’t remember a time since we’d been neighbors when I hadn’t wanted to be right where I was now. Couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t wanted her.
Which is exactly why I pulled back, letting the cool air chilling the room rush between us. Get it together, Wilder. Keep your game face on.
She doesn’t need the pressure. Keep it light, simple. Focus.
“Next time,” I promised.
Her sigh was petulant, but she said, “Alright. See you Wednesday?”
That should give me enough time to clear my head and give me some perspective. Her classes and twenty-four-hour shifts were honestly a godsend. Spending too much time in her bed, wrapped up in her, made me think stupid things. Like wondering what it’d be like to have something more.
Clarity and space. That’s what I needed. Not another morning waking up next to the woman who made me think I could find a woman who’d make me as happy as my parents were.
“See you Wednesday,” I repeated.
I was already looking forward to it.
The door closed behind me with a soft click, and I padded down the short hallway to the living room, where I stumbled to a halt. The twins were perched on the couch, their faces ablaze in a glow of bright pink as they stared, rapt, at My Little Pony on the television. They both glanced over at the same time, noted my presence like it was a daily occurrence, then turned back to the TV. I mean, it was practically a daily occurrence, but they weren’t supposed to know that.
My huff of indignation caught in my throat. We thought we were so clever, having me sneak in after they went to sleep and slip out before they woke up. Clearly, our best-laid plans had been stymied by a pair of munchkins. They didn’t seem to be as caught off guard and continued watching TV while I wondered if I should wake Ember up or not.
“Morning,” Tillie said before I came up with an answer. She yawned and glanced over at me as the show moved to a commercial. Molly merely smiled, then shoved her face in her sister’s arm.
They were too precious for words sometimes. Ember had done such a good job protecting them from her parents’ bullshit. “What are you doing up?” I asked and crossed to ruffle their silken hair.
“Waiting for Emmy.”
“Do me a favor?” I asked. Tillie nodded, and Molly peered out with interest. “Don’t tell your sister you saw me.”
“Like a secret?” Tillie asked. At my nod, she said, “We’re not supposed to keep secrets.”
Too damn smart. “Well, I won’t get you in trouble. Don’t go too hard on your sister today.”
“‘Kay. We won’t.”
I’d have to talk to her about them later. They saw us sleeping together that one time before, but I knew Ember didn’t want them to jump to the wrong conclusions. She’d done her best to shield them both from her mom and dad, and she didn’t want to fuck it all up now that they were finally settling into their new routine.
I kissed both of their heads. Ember was going to ream me when she found out they saw me leaving after all our careful planning, but we’d handle it. I had no doubt she would try to pump the brakes on our little arrangement, but that wasn’t gonna happen either.
She might be a distraction, but maybe, for once in my life, a distraction was what I needed.
“You okay?”
I hated that question with an intensity that couldn’t be described.
That’s all anyone asked me last year.
Coaches.
Teammates.
Doctors.
Physical therapists.
My parents.
My recruiters.
The answer to that question—if it ever needed to be asked—was an unequivocal no.
No one would ever be okay watching their dreams swirl down the drain. No one would ever be okay watching all their hard work turn into a big, fat fucking waste. I sure as hell wasn’t.
But that wasn’t going to happen to me again.
I had worked too hard.
I had wanted it too much.
But that didn’t mean I could fully ignore the pain in my shoulder when it seared through me like an arrow. I could barely contain the grimace as I tried to control my breathing and moderate my expression so no one could read it. It didn’t fool Alex, who jogged to the mound after my wild pitch. Alex, the one man who knew my game better than I did.
I glanced around to the coaches, who were too busy discussing batting strategy to notice one practice pitch gone awry. If they heard one whisper of an injury, they’d be on my case for more physical therapy, and I wasn’t fucking gonna let that happen. Physical therapy equaled bench time. And my ass has seen enough bench time to last me the rest of my career.
I belonged on the mound, and I wasn’t going to let anything stop me from making sure I stayed there.
Alex stopped when he got close enough to whisper. “Is it your arm?”
The arm in question ached from somewhere deep inside like it did when I had worked it for too long. Fatigue and overuse roused a ghost pain from the torn tissue, but that was all. I simply hadn’t stretched enough.
I leveled Alex with a look that had him lifting his hands in a defensive position. “I’m fine. If you fuckin’ ask me that again, though, you won’t be. I’m gonna warm up some more and send in McGuire to practice for a bit.”
Alex nodded, but I could feel his gaze on me from time to time as I threw practice pitches with a freshman catcher and then did some deep stretching exercises I’d learned from my physical therapist, a big, brawny guy named Ted who used to be a big, badass Army Ranger once upon a time.
After a half-hour, my arm felt loose enough to throw again, and I returned to the mound. I practiced the rest of the day without any complications, but Alex’s concern was infectious. Dammit, this is why I didn’t like anyone asking me if I was okay. People start asking it enough, and you start wondering if maybe you’re not.
After practice, I gave myself time in the jetted tub and alternated soaking my shoulder and icing it with a big-ass bag of ice from the machines in the locker rooms specifically for injuries. The shoulder didn’t bother me aside from the one throw, but I didn’t want to take any chances. There was too much riding on this season.
Like my life.
“Wilder!” Coach Taylor yelled.
“Yeah, Coa
ch, in here.”
He rounded the corner, jerking to a stop when he found me in the tub. “Good. You should keep resting that shoulder when you’re not practicing. We don’t want you to strain it any more than you have to.”
“Alright, Coach.”
“You were looking good out there today. I just wanted to tell you to keep it up. Although, if you’re ever late to a practice again, I won’t be pleased.”
“No, Coach.”
“I know women can be a pretty temptation, but I want you to keep focused until the end of the season. March is going to come quickly, and you don’t need any distractions. You hear me?”
Sometimes, I wondered if the man had a sixth sense. Then again, he spent most of his waking hours living and breathing the game, coaching, and coaxing his players to their best. It was no wonder he knew us better than we knew ourselves.
“You got it, Coach.”
He narrowed his eyes at my words. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, kid. I know you’ve got that girl of yours.”
See? Knows everything, I swear. Alex once said he thought Coach Taylor might have bugged our cribs and shit with cameras and tapped our phones, but I had brushed him off at the time. Now that I came to think of it, though, there was no other explanation.
“I’m not going to tell you how to live your life,” he continued, “but this is the most important season of your career. I need you focused to win, but you need to focus to succeed. You understand?”
“Yeah, Coach, I understand.”
He narrowed his eyes even further. Sometimes, I thought they’d up and disappear into his skull. “I mean it. I’m not distracted. I’m focused one-hundred percent.”
There was a pause while he studied my face. Seeming to be satisfied with whatever truth he divined from my expression, he gave a decisive nod. “Well, alright, then. I’ll see you at weight training this afternoon. And don’t be late.”
Friend Zone Series Box Set Page 45
