“Ryan Moorehead, the charming comedian, everyone.” I turned back around, letting him in and hearing the door shut behind him.
“I brought you soup from the deli down the street,” he said. I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen as I gently sack back down on the couch. “Thought you probably needed something easy for your stomach.”
“I could give it a try but I haven’t been able to keep anything down, so you might not want to stay for the after party.” Whether or not he got any of that, I wasn’t sure because I mumbled all of it into my pillow.
“I’m sure I’ll survive.” Guess he did hear it.
A few minutes later, he came back in with a bowl full of soup, more crackers, and a bottle of water. He helped me adjust the pillows behind my back so I could prop myself up while I ate and placed a pillow over my lap where he set my bowl.
“Thanks for this. You didn’t have to do it.”
He shrugged and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. “Just figured that someone needed to be there for you.”
That comment didn’t exactly sit right with me. What did he mean by that? To make it worse, he took his suit jacket off and stretched his feet out on my coffee table. Meds or not, I damn sure knew that I hadn’t invited him to stay and get comfortable.
And this whole thing was suddenly feeling more intimate than I cared for it to be.
He knew I had a boyfriend. What was his game?
Because that kind of conversation with him was the absolute last thing I wanted to deal with right now—and because the soup was starting to smell fantastic—I decided to ignore it for now.
Over the next half hour, Ryan forced us to watch The Walking Dead as I attempted to force down the chicken noodle soup. I had several problems with this because: 1) It was my TV and my place, and he hadn’t even asked me what I wanted to watch. I was the sick one, dammit! 2) I had never seen The Walking Dead—it was on my to-watch list of TV shows—and it wasn’t the type of show you could just start in the middle of. 3) The gore factor of the show was making the queasy feeling in my stomach fifty thousand times worse.
Something one might think would occur to him but no.
And thanks to a zombie ripping some poor bastard’s throat out, the soup decided it wanted to make another appearance. This time, I didn’t get up from the couch gingerly but instead moved like rapid fire to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.
“You okay?” Ryan called out after me.
“Give me a minute!” I replied before losing every ounce of soup I’d consumed.
I buried my head in the bowl, the cold porcelain against my fevered skin my only reprieve in the nightmare that was my rebelling body. I flushed the toilet and sat there for a few more seconds, ensuring that my stomach wasn’t trying to psych me out before wanting to release its contents again.
I finally decided it was safe and stood up to splash some cold water from the sink on my face and rinse out with mouthwash. I still didn’t feel anywhere near human, but I figured it was as close as I was going to get.
When I opened the bathroom door and stepped back out into the living room, I saw Ryan standing there with a tight jaw and my cell phone at his ear.
What the hell?
What was he doing with my phone?
“She just came out,” he said to whoever was on the line while maintaining eye contact with me. “Do you want to talk to her?”
Whatever the person on the other line said must have angered him because his eyes flared and he thrusted his hand out, passing the phone over to me. “It’s your boyfriend.”
Parker?
Oh, crap on a stick. This probably wasn’t going to be good.
I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“What’s going on?” Parker demanded in a loud voice, forcing me to hold the receiver away for a second. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said as I walked into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. Ryan didn’t need to hear our conversation, and I didn’t need another reason to be furious with him. “It’s just the flu but I’m okay.”
“The flu?” Again, his voice was not that of a mouse’s. “You told me your stomach was just bothering you. Why didn’t you tell me you had the flu?”
Oh yeah, he was good and pissed. But I guess he had a right to be. Still didn’t mean that I felt like dealing with this tonight.
“I didn’t want you to worry. You need to stay in Boston and get some rest. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come down here and take care of me or anything.”
“So, Ryan is? What the hell, Kinley? What’s he doing there?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to fight off another bout of nausea I could feel coming. “Could you please stop yelling? I didn’t ask him to come over; he just showed up tonight with soup. He hasn’t been here very long.”
His growl reached my ears over the line with piercing fury. “The asshole just invited himself over?”
“Yes. I was actually about to ask him to leave anyway because I started throwing up again.”
“Did he come on to you?” he asked in a lethal voice.
I huffed in exasperation. “No! Jesus, Parker. I look like I have the Plague. He wouldn’t touch me if his life depended on it. And besides, he knows I have a boyfriend. He knows the boundaries.”
“Yet he’s coming over to your place unannounced.” His murderous tone hadn’t deflated in the least. “I want him out of there, Kin. I don’t like the way he’s always hovering around you.”
I sighed heavily. “We work together—”
“I don’t care,” he said, cutting me off. “I want him gone. Now.”
“Why are you so mad at me? I told you that I didn’t ask him to come over.”
“I’m mad because the fact is that he’s over there when I’m not, supposedly taking care of you.” He lowered his voice and I cringed when I detected hurt in it. “I should be taking care of you. And worst of all, you lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“You told me it was just a little stomach bug. He told me that you’d been to the doctor, had been throwing up for days and can’t keep anything down, and that you haven’t left your apartment in over two days. Lying by omission is still a lie.”
“I’m sorry,” I said weakly, hating myself for so many different reasons.
I was quickly finding out that disappointing and upsetting Parker was so much worse than the stomach flu.
“And you know the worst part about it all, Kin? I had to hear about all of it from him. I had to hear that my girlfriend was sick from another guy. I should be there helping you, but instead I’m talking on the phone with my replacement.”
“Parker, that—”
“I need some time. I’ll call you later.” Then, he hung up.
I stared at the phone for I didn’t know how long, disbelief taking up the bulk of my emotions. When I came back to my senses, I remembered that there was a certain man in my living room who I was still pissed at.
I found Ryan sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, head down. He looked up when he heard me enter the room. “I didn’t mean to cause problems. I’m sorry.”
Bullshit.
“No, I think you did.” He started to protest but I stopped him. “I’ve been away from my phone plenty of times at the gallery and you’ve never once answered it. That was so inappropriate of you, I don’t even know where to start. I shouldn’t even have to say this, but don’t ever do that again, Ryan.”
He stood up and faced me, arms flailing out in frustration. “I’m sorry, Kinley, but where is he? Where is your boyfriend while you’re lying here sick?”
That took me aback. “Excuse me?”
“If he loves you so much, then why isn’t he here taking care of you?”
I suddenly forgot my illness and concentrated instead on my anger, letting it take over. “Parker is a professional baseball player. He travels all over the country for his games. That’s his job.
Just like that’s part of mine, too.”
“That’s exactly my point. He can’t be here even if he wants to be.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my chest. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that he’s no good for you.” Oh, he did not. “You need someone to be there for you, to support you and comfort you, to care of you when you’re sick. You need someone here, Kinley.”
“Someone like you?”
He pursed his lips and swallowed. “I could be what you need. He’s not someone who settles down. He’ll leave you when he gets bored of you. That’s what guys like him do.”
I held up my hand. I couldn’t hear anymore. “You need to get something straight. You have no idea what I need or want, and you don’t know anything about Parker. I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loved me and will always be there for me. And you know how I know that he’s a better man than you? Because he would never move in on another guy’s girlfriend.”
That looked like it shocked and hurt him in equal measures. I was too upset to be concerned about his feelings, though. I’d known that Ryan liked me on some level, but he wasn’t always a very considerate person and someone needed to finally put him in his place.
“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just think you deserve more.”
I shook my head. “You need to leave. Right now.”
He nodded his acceptance, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. I followed and watched him turn back to look at me as I stood in the doorway. But he must have read something on my face because he swallowed whatever he was going to say and began to turn back around.
I started to close the door but decided to leave him with one last parting shot. “And by the way, I hate sushi.” Then, I slammed the door shut.
I collapsed onto the couch, more than just the soup now making me nauseous.
So, imagine my astonishment—and disillusionment—when I was once again woken up on the couch by knocking on my door almost three hours later. I didn’t bother getting up this time, deciding to just yell in case I didn’t want to talk to the person so I didn’t have to get up at all.
“Who is it?”
A few beats of silence passed before he spoke in a low, quiet voice. “It’s me, Kin. Open up.”
Parker.
Chapter Thirty
Parker
My chest was constricting and my stomach was in knots.
The anger had receded into the foreground just a little, enough to hop on a plane to New York and go straight to Kinley’s place, rather than hunting Ryan down and having a little talk with him.
The second I’d heard his voice on her phone, I’d wanted nothing more than to reach through it and choke the life out of him. I had been so incensed that I thought I was going to pop a damn blood vessel.
Who knew I would have such a crazy jealous streak in me?
Okay, I did.
But only when it came to Kinley. Because when it involved another guy sniffing around her, all bets were off.
I’d been telling the truth over the phone, too. The worst part wasn’t that he was over at her place when I wasn’t there. It was that she hadn’t told me how sick she was. It was the fact that I had to hear it from another man. It was my responsibility to take care of Kinley. A boyfriend was supposed to be there for his girlfriend in her time of need, and that didn’t come from a sense of obligation I felt toward her. That came from a desire to protect her, comfort and love her, and be whatever she needed me to be.
If something was wrong with her, whatever it might be, I wanted to make sure that I was always there watching over her. My possessiveness—my love—for her wouldn’t let me do otherwise.
And I’d felt so completely useless and inadequate when I heard that another man was doing my job. Not to mention the fact that I was worried as hell that something worse than a minor stomach bug was going on with Kinley. Worried that she’d been sick at her apartment for over two days and had nobody to care for her.
Until Ryan.
That prick.
I snapped back to reality when I reached Kinley’s door and knocked. When there was no answer I knocked again, my heart pounding in my chest. Oh God, what if something is really wrong? I didn’t have a key to her place. That didn’t really matter, I supposed, because if she was in trouble I would just break down the damn door.
Finally, I heard her voice. “Who is it?”
I had to take a deep breath of relief. “It’s me, Kin. Open up.”
Silence.
It hadn’t occurred to me until right now that she might not let me in. She’d be justified in that, too. I hadn’t exactly been understanding over the phone and then I’d hung up on her. Dick.
I heard feet shuffling toward the door, heard her locks unbolting, and then she eased the door open. A sharp pain pierced my heart when I got a good look at her.
Oh, baby.
She looked like she’d been through the ringer, so frail and weak and I was worried she might crumble before me any second. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her skin was pasty pale, and she was gripping the edge of the door like her legs might buckle underneath her if it wasn’t there to prop her up.
My anger disappeared.
I figured that I would later remember everything that happened earlier, but right now it was a distant memory.
“Hey,” I said softly, reaching forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and caress her flushed cheek.
Her face contorted into one of anguish, almost looking as if she might cry, and basically fell into my arms, her weak limbs trying to hold me tight. I caught her, needing to feel her close and assure myself that everything was okay with her and with us. I physically hurt at the realization that she not only felt awful but that we had also fought.
I hated fighting.
I mean, who really liked it? But growing up in my parents’ household, I truly despised yelling and arguing and being mad at the people you’re supposed to love. And anytime words of that nature were flung between Kinley and me, a chunk of my soul was ripped out and destroyed.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to her. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
I felt her shake her head against me. “No, you had a reason to be mad. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you what was going on.”
She pulled away from me and attempted a smile. “Will you come lay down with me? I might fall over if I stand up any longer.”
I hadn’t even thought about how late it was, and more guilt piled on. No doubt, I’d woken her up and in her state she really needed her sleep. I nodded, wrapping my arm around her waist, and led her back to the bedroom.
“Let’s get you to bed. Do you need anything? Water or crackers? Have you taken your medicine recently?”
She pointed to the coffee table where her cluster of prescription medication sat. “It’s probably about time for more. Can you grab that water, too?”
I carefully tucked her into bed and went back for the meds and water. She swallowed the pills and drank some water before falling back onto the bed. She was out not even a minute later when I returned to the bedroom with my bag that I’d left near the front door.
I turned off all the lights, shucked my shirt, and climbed into bed next to her. It took me forever to fall asleep because I couldn’t take my eyes off her as I stroked her hair, her arms, her back. I wanted to be awake to help if she got sick again.
After a while, though, long after her breathing had evened out in sleep, my eyes drooped closed too.
##
I was baffled at how much of a one-eighty Kinley’s health had done by the next morning. She hadn’t gotten up once throughout the night to get sick, and she had inhaled her breakfast, without throwing it back up. The color had returned to her cheeks—almost to its normal golden hue—and she had bounds more energy.
“It’s a flippin’ miracle,” she’d said. “For the first time in days I don’
t feel like the Alien is about to burst out of my belly.”
There’s an image I didn’t need.
“I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” I told her, giving her a quick peck on the lips before I started to clean up our lunch, almost all of which she ate. Getting her appetite back was a good sign.
“Much better,” she replied. “I really appreciate you coming down here. I know it’s your day off and you could probably use the rest. So it means a lot that you wanted to take care of me.”
I stopped what I was doing and walked back over to her. “Kin, I would have been here from the beginning if you’d have told me. I would have figured something out with the games.”
She lightly shook her head and gave me a sympathetic smile. “But you can’t always be here and you know that. You were in Texas at the time and your manager wouldn’t have appreciated you trying to leave just because your girlfriend was sick. This is part of it, Parker. We both have jobs that require us to travel, and there will be times where we may not be able to physically be there for the other person. But we have to understand and accept that. This was the deal we made when we got together. I wasn’t upset that you weren’t here when I got sick because I knew you didn’t have a choice. But I knew that if you had you would have been here in a heartbeat.”
How had I gotten so damn lucky with her?
I would have expected most women to sulk and cry and use my guilt over the situation to their benefit. But Kinley just looked at me with quiet understanding and unfailing love. That whole speech of hers just made me feel like an even bigger ass over the way I’d handled things with Ryan.
“I know, and again, I’m sorry for how I behaved,” I said, staring down at the kitchen countertop. “It’s just…I knew it was going to be hard but I hadn’t thought about stuff like that before. Like when you’re sick or your car breaks down and I’m not there to help you. Not being there for you when you need me the most is what’s killing me. And the whole thing with Ryan just made it worse.”
She put her hand over mine and squeezed, causing me to lift my chin and look up at her. “But you are there when I need you the most,” she insisted. “You were at my show on New Year’s, you went to the wedding with me when I was dreading going alone, and you’ve talked to me on the phone countless times when I’ve had a bad day and you’ve always made me feel better. You gave me the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
Playing for Kinley (Cruz Brothers Book 1) Page 29
