Play Hard

by V. K. Sykes

  He opened his mouth to object to her mischaracterization of his intentions, but she held up a hand to stop him. “My career, on the other hand, would be toast, and we both know it. There’s no way I could be the Patriots writer, or any kind of sports reporter for that matter, if I were involved with an active player. It’s just impossible. You know that.”

  Actually, he didn’t know that for certain, but it was more likely true than not. He’d put her in a compromising position, ignoring the logistical difficulties in his selfish desire to get to know her better. Unfortunately, he had a sense that his desire for her would only grow over time.

  Still, she needed to make the call, not him. “You’re right, Maddie. I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have put you in a tough position. We were having a great time tonight, and I blew it.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “I think you’re fantastic, and I hope we can be friends. Can we just forget this happened?”

  He held his breath. Friendship between them might not be possible, but he wasn’t ready to let her go, not just yet.

  She began to fidget with her purse straps, her gaze darting away from him. “I…yes, of course. There’s really nothing to forgive, but I don’t think we should let ourselves forget it happened. The fact that you wanted to kiss me, and I really wanted to kiss you back, is something we should remember. So we make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  Her words jolted him. So, she had wanted to kiss him back. Good to know his radar still worked, and that something between them might still be possible. If he could figure out the logistics, that is. “Your call. Why don’t we walk back up to Prospect and see if we can find a couple of cabs?” That seemed like the best course of action. He was too ramped up to keep his hands off her, so a cool-down period was in order.

  But there was nothing to say he couldn’t get to know her better.

  “Maddie, I’ve just spent more than two hours telling you about my life,” he said as they headed to the cab stand. “But it was totally a one-way street. How about giving me a chance to ask a question or two about you? After all, we’re going to be friends, right?”

  When she cast him a doubtful glance, he gave her a bland smile.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer, though. Remember—me writer, you subject.”

  He laughed. “Fair enough. You don’t owe me any answers. But let me try this. I couldn’t help noticing how you reacted when I talked about my involvement with the Alzheimer’s Society. I suspect you know someone who has it. Probably someone close to you.”

  Even with a good twelve inches between them, he felt her stiffen. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  She kept walking, clutching the lapels of his jacket. Then she glanced at him from under her lashes before looking straight ahead again. “My mother has Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed about four years ago. But I’d noticed signs for quite a while before that.”

  Fuck. “I’m sorry, Maddie. I really am.”

  Her gaze remained fastened on the pavement in front of her. “It wasn’t just the forgetfulness. Sometimes, Mom would dress herself in totally wrong clothes, things that didn’t match or were meant for a different season. Then she’d get really angry if I suggested she change. That’s when I knew, and tried to get her to see a neurologist.”

  “I’ll bet she resisted, didn’t she?” he said gently.

  “Big time. It was almost a year before I was finally able to get her to go, and even then I practically had to tie her up and carry her in.”

  “She knew, didn’t she? That’s why she resisted.”

  She hugged the jacket tight to her body, as if seeking comfort. He wished he could give it to her, wished he could take her in his arms and cradle her slight form against him.

  “I’m sure she knew something was terribly wrong, and I guess she couldn’t face having it confirmed,” she replied in a flat, thin tone, nothing like the laughing voice of a few minutes ago. “By the time I finally convinced her to see the neurologist, he told us we’d waited too long. The disease was so advanced that the drugs wouldn’t be able to help slow its progress much, if at all. It was a devastating prognosis, even though I pretty much knew it was coming.”

  Jake couldn’t resist putting a gentle hand on the back of her neck. Surprisingly, she didn’t shrug it off. “How old is she now?”

  “She’ll be seventy in July. Getting Alzheimer’s in your sixties isn’t very common. It just seems like the rottenest thing that could happen to someone who should have had many more good years. Years to spend with me, and maybe even with her grandchildren, someday.”

  He heard so much sorrow and longing in those words that it tore him apart.

  “Within a month of seeing that doctor,” she continued, “Mom had to be moved into a full-care facility. Now, she can barely speak any more, and when she does it’s usually gibberish. I’m not sure how much she recognizes me, either. Sometimes, I’m sure she does. Other times, she’s completely in another world. I can hardly remember the last time she called me by my name.”

  With a jerky motion she reached into her purse and extracted a tissue, dabbing at her eyes. “I try to get to the facility up in Massachusetts as often as I can. It’s hard with my job, though I usually manage to get there at least once a month. But I hate not being able to spend more time with her.”

  Jake nodded, encouraging her to talk. Not that she noticed. At this point, Maddie almost seemed to be talking to herself, like she was working something through.

  “Both my aunt and my cousin have been great. They go over to the home several times a week and help her as much as they can—buying her things she needs, just visiting with her and making sure she’s okay. That sort of thing. It really helps.”

  She stopped and exhaled a shaky breath. She lifted her gaze to his face, her eyes deep wells of sorrow, and he felt the tragedy of the situation with striking force. To lose her father at an early age, and then her mother to the ugliest disease he could imagine—the injustice of it made him want to smash something apart.

  “But I still feel guilty that I’m not there more,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I should just quit the Post and get some kind of job in Worcester, or at least in Boston. That way I could take proper care of Mom. Be there every day, or almost.”

  He opened his mouth, not sure what he wanted to say but knowing he didn’t much like the idea of her leaving Philadelphia. Which made him a selfish jerk. He barely knew her and he wanted to tell her how to lead her life?

  Fortunately, she forestalled him. “It’s okay. I decided long ago not to do that. I know if Mom and I were able to really talk about it, she’d insist that I not sacrifice myself that way. She believed in me and what I was doing, and she would totally hate it if I ever derailed my career for her.”

  He swallowed against the tight feeling in his throat. “Ever think about moving her to Philly?”

  “Sure, but she’s in one of the best facilities in New England. Besides, the move would be too disruptive for her. The doctors and I agree she’s best left where she is.”

  He gave her a brief hug as they reached the top of the hill, then let her go. “Then you should definitely follow the advice your mother would have given you, and try to make your peace with it. I know it’s got to be an incredible emotional drain, but it sounds to me like you’re dealing with it as best you can. Don’t beat up on yourself, okay?”

  Maddie took a deep breath and gave him a brave but wavering smile. Man, she was killing him.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Thank you, Jake. I’m touched you were interested enough to listen so patiently while I rambled on.”

  “You weren’t rambling and I am interested,” he replied quietly. “I meant it when I said I wanted to be your friend.”

  She threw him a sideways glance, not bothering to answer as they walked up to the cab line. Clearly, he’d pushed her enough for one night.

  Jake pointed to the first t
axi. “That one’s yours. Maddie, thanks for doing this. I really enjoyed the interview. I know it wasn’t easy for you to do it this way. But I’m glad you did, and I hope you don’t have any regrets.”

  She slipped his coat off her shoulders and held it out to him. “No, thank you, Jake. Thank you for being so open and frank with me, and for being such a good listener, too. I really had a good time tonight once I got over being scared half to death about what we were doing.” She flashed him a brief, uneasy smile. “Sort of got over, anyway.”

  He smiled back and held out his hand for a friendly shake. Best not to spook her any more than he already had. “Thanks for sticking your neck out. I probably shouldn’t have asked, but I hope it’ll turn out to be worth it for you.”

  “It’s going to be a great article,” she said as she pulled her hand from his and climbed into the cab. “See you at Petco.”

  Jake stood fixed to the spot, staring at the cab’s taillights as they faded into the dark night. Unfamiliar feelings of loneliness and dissatisfaction washed over him. It was stupid, given all the obstacles that stood between them, but when it came to the woman who’d just left him in the dust, stupid seemed to be rapidly developing into his middle name.

  * * *

  Maddie steeled herself, fixing her eyes straight ahead on the narrow highway in front of the cab. She really wanted to turn around and look back at Jake to see if he was watching her go. Oh, God, she was in big trouble, because she already missed him, lambasting herself for passing up the opportunity to get closer to him.

  She leaned back against the shiny vinyl seat with a sigh, trying to convince herself to be happy with scoring such a fantastic interview. But she was kidding herself. Jake Miller was more than just an interview subject. By halfway through dinner, she’d wanted to lean across the table, grab the lapels of his jacket, and yank him up into a smothering kiss. But then when he’d tried it on her, she’d panicked and shoved him away.

  She closed her eyes against the embarrassment of that moment. How foolish, how girlish she must have appeared to a guy like him. Of course, she couldn’t afford to fall for him. She was deadly serious when she told him it would derail her career, or at least force it onto a side track she had no intention of taking. After her mother, her career was the most important thing in the world to her. With her father gone and her mom fading away, could anyone really blame her for being focused on work above all else? Someday Maddie hoped to have a man in her life, but it could never be a guy like Jake Miller. He was totally out of her league, and she knew it.

  Besides, the life of a star athlete’s wife wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, if her observations were anything close to correct. Her husband constantly on the road, with temptation thrown his way on a daily basis. That would drive Maddie nuts with jealousy, even with a straight shooter like Jake as her man. And she would have to give up her career, which would make her resentful and unhappy. Definitely not a recipe for a successful marriage.

  No, she couldn’t even imagine a way to make it work, even if the guy was so damn handsome and hot, so smart and honest. And obviously empathetic and kind, along with being a genuinely decent human being. Now that she thought about it, it made perfect sense that she wanted to spend time with him, even risk…

  She groaned and gently banged her head against the headrest, knowing she had to get a grip. Jake Miller had no intention of marrying her, for God’s sake. Yeah, maybe he did really want to be her friend, but he also wanted to get under her skirt. That much was clear. An affair between them couldn’t possibly mature into anything meaningful—not with his life being as it was, and her life being as it was. A relationship with Jake Miller was a beautiful fantasy, and that’s what it would remain.

  She lectured herself like that for a few more minutes as she watched the lights off the highway flashing by. Then somehow she managed to turn her mind back to work, thinking through the column she intended to write on the basis of the interview. In that respect, the evening had been a resounding success, and prickles of excitement ran through her as she mapped out the shape of the article in her head.

  The cab dropped her off under the hotel canopy. As she made her way through the lobby, she smiled and waved at a couple of the players who were obviously heading out. Now that she had put Jake the fantasy date firmly back in his place, she couldn’t wait to get back to her room and work. Swiping the room card through the lock, she pushed open the door, dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes. Undressing as fast as she could, she tossed on her robe and fired up her laptop.

  Nervous energy coursed through her body, the story practically burning to come out of her. No writer had ever seen the Jake Miller she saw tonight, not like that, anyway. She was sure this story was going to be a big one, not just with Patriot fans but with all lovers of baseball. And she suspected that interest could go well beyond sports fans.

  Maybe she could never give Jake Miller what he had obviously wanted tonight, but she could do something else. The man was a true hero off the field, not just on, and she was going to make sure the world knew it.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, Jake led the Patriots to a resounding win, wrapping up the four-game series with the Padres. Four hits in his four official at-bats and an intentional walk in the ninth added up to a near-perfect outing as his five-RBI day powered the team to an easy 8–2 romp. The win gave the Patriots a split in the series, which wasn’t a bad result for away games. If they could take at least two out of three from the Arizona Diamondbacks in the upcoming series, they’d return home to Philadelphia feeling very good.

  Speaking of feeling good, Jake’s upbeat mood surprised him, despite the rebuff by Maddie Leclair. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had rejected his advances—not that he made that many, nothing like most of the other single guys on the team. But usually he was doing the pushing away, not the other way around. So, it baffled him why he still felt so good. Maybe the fact that she had admitted her attraction was enough to satisfy him for now. Sure, she had given him a verbal “this can’t happen” line, and sounded like she meant it, but all evening he swore she had been sending an entirely different message. In any case, all through the afternoon game his shoes had felt light, his mind was clear, and he knew it was one of those precious days when the monumentally difficult task of hitting a 90-mile-per-hour-plus baseball suddenly became temporarily simple.

  You had to appreciate those magical days, because they were damn near rare as alligators in Minnesota. And if it had something to do with Maddie, he sure as hell had no intention of giving up so easily. The situation was tricky, but he was confident he could resolve it somehow to their mutual satisfaction. And the thought of satisfying Maddie—in every way—was enough to put a big smile on his face as he headed down from his room to the team’s airport bus.

  He had hoped to get lucky and bump into her in the hotel, or maybe even at the park, but he hadn’t caught a glimpse of her all day. Just knowing she was there, though, watching his spectacular night at the plate, made him feel better despite missing her. At the very least, he figured, he’d see her on the post-game flight to Phoenix. That was a lock.

  On the bus to the airport, the players were dog-tired but happy, joking and kidding around more than they’d done since the season started. The pressure to win the pennant this year weighed heavily on everyone in the organization, from the general manager down through the coaches and the players. The Patriots had forked out megabucks in the off-season to sign two top-of-the-line free agents, and everyone now expected them to contend for and probably win the pennant.

  They remained in first place but the players knew the pressure would only intensify as the season wore on. Almost every sportswriter in the country had picked the Patriots to win their division, and many had tabbed them to go all the way to the World Series. So, splitting the Padres series, while okay, wasn’t all they’d hoped for. But it sure was a hell of a lot better than leaving San Diego one-and-three if they’d lost tonight
. The papers and the fans back home would have been all over them. No wonder the players felt relieved and ready to relax as they headed to pick up their chartered flight to Arizona.

  As Jake boarded the plane, his eyes searched for Maddie in what he had learned was her usual spot, a window seat on the left side near the back. He spotted her there, looking down at something—probably her laptop, possibly a book. While his eyes were still fixed on her, she looked up and caught sight of him. Jake immediately broke into a broad smile, and raised a hand in greeting.

  Maddie gave him a brief, tight nod, then cast her eyes back down toward her lap. Jake’s smile and his good mood evaporated instantly. Her unspoken message was crystal clear—she was going to make sure nothing she did would give others a hint that anything had happened between them, and he should do the same.

  Feeling annoyed—and knowing he had no right to be, which made it worse—Jake grabbed the seat next to his friend Nate Carter, the left-hander who was the Patriots’ ace. Just reaching his prime at twenty-six, Nate had become the heart of the strong Patriots’ pitching staff—a true “stopper,” the guy who could be relied on to shut the opposition down and give his team a chance to win almost every game he pitched. He was already three times an All-Star, and Jake expected Nate to soon add a Cy Young Award as the league’s best pitcher to his growing list of accomplishments.

  Jake had gotten to know him even before Nate was rocketed up to the bigs, and the two had forged a strong friendship. It certainly wasn’t because they were very much alike. Though both were tall and fit from rigorous workout regimens, Nate’s hair and complexion were dark to Jake’s light, and his body lanky and whip-like to Jake’s sturdiness. Nate was the fast lane, big-city boy to Jake’s laid-back, farm-country upbringing. While Jake was all about raw power and strength, Nate was about electric velocity and crafty delivery.

  It was a testament to the strength of their bond that Nate had gone miles beyond the call of duty to support Jake during his rehab from the devastating ankle injury. If anything, Nate was probably happier than Jake was when he finally made it back to the big leagues.