Sliding Home

by Kathy Lyons

  I saw her commit. She grabbed on to the rope, but she didn’t have the strength to hold herself.

  No problem. I could do this. I was an elite athlete at the top of my game.

  Ellie fumbled and slid, her scream echoing in my head.

  I reached. I touched her.

  And I fumbled.

  There was no strength in my hands. I touched her. I held her. But I couldn’t keep her. I scrambled with hands, feet, hell, any part of my body that could hold on. But I grasped nothing. I felt nothing.

  She slipped through my hands and fell. Her scream echoed over and over, and I bellowed her name.

  “Ellie!”

  I jolted forward, reaching desperately though I knew she was too far away. I saw her face though. Disgust. Horror. Fury.

  And then I woke up.

  I burst into consciousness as if I’d been kicked. And maybe I had been, because my ribs burned with a jagged pain made worse when I started coughing. I flopped back onto the sheets, my head aching as I realized the stiff cotton was wet from my sweat.

  Nightmare. Just a nightmare.

  That was my thought. Over and over. Plus an extra, God, this sucked.

  I waited there, fighting the urge to cough. And all too soon, I felt cold on the sheets, cold in my bed, and cold without Ellie to touch. I desperately wanted to reassure myself that she was okay. It was ridiculous. I knew she was fine. She’d been discharged from the hospital long before they’d let me go. I’d seen the news clips of her leaving with Rachel, her parents by her side.

  She’d been safe, calm, and held in the warm support of her family.

  I’d watched the clip a hundred times, grateful beyond measure that she had their support. I was also jealous, because my family was back in Indianapolis. And even if they had been here, neither my father nor my brother would wrap their arms around me the way Ellie’s mom had held her. We kept a manly distance from one another. And as for the feminine influences in my life, they were long gone. I hadn’t heard from either my mother or sister in years.

  Fortunately, the Bobcats were on the ball. They’d arranged for me to get this room in a hotel near the hospital. Someone was supposed to come by this morning to bring me fresh clothes, since everything I’d brought to Chicago was now ash.

  I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. I’d taken one last night, but I needed something to wash away the nightmare. Even though I knew I’d never forget the echoing sound of Ellie’s scream. I’d hear that until I died. But at least I could remind myself that it was just a dream. When the pressure was on, I’d come through. That gave me such a sense of relief that I nearly stumbled when I stepped into the shower.

  I hadn’t failed her. So I closed my eyes, lifted my head to the spray, and let the water beat the fear from me.

  I came out only when I heard someone banging on my door. The pounding was loud and furious, which was the only reason I’d heard it. I slammed off the water, bit back a cough, and then bellowed as loud as I could.

  “One sec!”

  Only my bellow didn’t have the strength it used to. Not with pain lancing through my side. So I wrapped a robe around me and moved to the door. I wasn’t fast, but at least I made it. But I was not prepared for what greeted me on the other side.

  Gia stood there. And she looked frightened and pissed. She gripped clothing in one hand along with a plastic bag of amenities. Her phone was held in the other, and her expression kept changing from anger to worry back to frustration as she scanned me from head to toe.

  “Good morning—” I rasped.

  “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.” The lie rolled off my tongue easily. In truth, I was still pretty shaky, and I hated that I couldn’t breathe deeply without coughing, but she was the media and so I put on my brave face. Sure, she worked for the Bobcats, but in my mind, they were all reporters who could nail me at any given moment.

  “Are those for me?” I asked, as I pointed to the plain team jersey and khakis.

  She shoved them forward. “Yeah. Underwear and socks are in the bag. I hope you’re a boxer guy.”

  I wasn’t, but I could adjust.

  Meanwhile, she kept peering at me in a concerned-mother way. Which was weird considering she was my age and only came up to my chin. “Seriously, Jake, how do you feel?”

  “Like I’m standing here in a bathrobe with wet hair. Can you give me a minute?”

  She nodded, already looking back at her phone. “Sure. Don’t take too long, though. You’ve got the press waiting downstairs.”

  I winced. That was the best reason yet for taking a long damn time in the bathroom. “Can’t you handle it?” I asked as I walked away. The bathroom tile was reassuringly cold on my bare feet. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. It was just a fire.”

  “It was just a fire where you were seen leaping from a burning balcony with a kid in your arms. And then, just to be sure everyone knows you’re the ultimate hero, you caught a hot woman as she was falling to her death.”

  Gia was being complimentary. She was. But her words sent every moment of my nightmare back. It rushed at me from nowhere and I gripped the sides of the sink just to keep standing. Thank God, I was out of sight. But I must have made a noise because Gia called out sharply.

  “Jake? You okay?”

  “Yeah!” I growled. Then I kicked the bathroom door shut as I whispered to myself, over and over, “She’s safe. You caught her. You didn’t drop her. She’s safe.”

  It took me at least a minute before I believed my own words. And then I realized I’d been hanging out in the bathroom far too long. So I flushed the toilet for an explanation while I wet my face with cold water. Two minutes and a dozen lancing pains later, I was dressed and had casually ruffled hair. That was my go-to style since my older sister had taught me how to do it when I was thirteen. She’d said it made me look hot.

  I stepped out to find Gia waiting for me and somehow, her expression had changed from that of an overprotective mother to an evil Mother Superior. Her arms were crossed, her expression was stern, and—big clue—she’d put her phone down. Gia never did that unless it was something important.

  “Gia?”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m f—”

  “Because I don’t like it when my players lie to me. In fact, I’m prone to going ballistic.”

  “I’m not lying,” I lied. “I’ve never felt better.”

  “So tell me about your date last night. The old-fashioned one, where you and Ellie weren’t even going to have so much as a good-night kiss.”

  Oh, right. In all the drama of the fire, I’d completely forgotten that. “Um, about that.”

  “Yeah, about that,” she echoed, her voice stern. “I seem to recall Joe having a meeting with the entire team before the season began. You remember Joe? The team owner and your boss?”

  “Of course I—”

  “I remember him telling you that there’d be no more of this playboy shit. Those were his exact words. Playboy. Shit. He said that you ballplayers were good boys, who would do the right thing by good girls. Remember that?”

  I nodded but kept my lip buttoned.

  “And if ever there was a good girl, it’s Ellie. She’s a nurse in Indianapolis who comes from a good family. Her cousin is Connor, the heartthrob catcher, for God’s sake.”

  Had her voice wobbled when she mentioned Connor’s name?

  “You do know how incredibly protective he is of his family, right? And that includes Ellie, the good girl. The one who was supposed to go home last night, untouched.”

  My plan had been to keep my mouth shut. After all, that’s what a guy did when he was being chewed out by the coach. He kept his mouth shut and took his ass-chewing like a man. Except that Gia wasn’t satisfied with my contrite look. Or the fact that my face was burning red. She glared at me for a good long time, making me realize that I had screwed up again. Yeah, I was the hero of t
he hour who had saved Ellie and a kid from a burning building. But I was also the guy who had brought another good girl over to the dark side.

  Shit.

  “You promised me, Jake. You promised me and Joe that you were turning over a new leaf. No more picking up sluts in clubs. No more wild nights and not-so-wild performances the next day.”

  “I’ve never slacked off at baseball. Never!”

  “But you did promise us that you would change. Did you mean any of it?”

  “Of course I did. And I have.”

  “Right,” she drawled. “Now you’re seducing good girls.” She shook her head. “Connor is going to kill you.”

  Hell. That was certainly true. I could probably brush this off with Joe. He would be angry, but boys will be boys and all that. Gia would give me a good chewing-out—which I deserved—but there was nothing she could really do. Connor, though, was a different matter altogether. In many ways, he was the glue that held the Bobcats together. The quiet voice of reason. The mature adult in a locker room of boys, though he was barely three years older than me. He just exuded authority, and I respected him more than I did anyone else on the team. More than I did anyone I’d ever met.

  The idea of confessing to him that I’d had a hot, wild night with his cousin made me sick to my stomach. Sure, it had been consensual. And hell yes, I wanted to have more nights with her. But I’d made such a big deal about this being something special, that she was special. I’d promised to respect her and not take advantage.

  How the hell was I going to explain what happened?

  “Um, it’s not what it seems,” I said to Gia. The words were out of my mouth before I even realized what I was doing. But Gia was no idiot. She arched a brow at me and called my bluff.

  “Really? Because it sure as hell looked like you were going all ‘gentleman’ on me. And because of that promise, I got the press to be there last night. There are pictures all over, of you and her, right next to the words ‘old-fashioned date.’ And do you know what else is all over the papers this morning?”

  I shook my head.

  “Her climbing down from your balcony.”

  “The building was on fire.”

  “I got that. We also got the fact that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. No bra. No panties. And she was climbing out of your hotel room.”

  No way could they know that. I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could say a word, Gia grabbed her phone, flipped it on, and shoved a picture in my face. I looked down, dreading what I would see, but I had to look anyway.

  There was Ellie on the railing just before she let go of the balcony. Her knees were bent, her bottom hanging down. I was there, too, my arms stretched up to catch her, but that’s not what the picture focused on. Nope. Right there was Ellie’s bare ass in full view. The caption read: “Moon over Chicago.”

  I gaped at it. That couldn’t possibly be what people cared about. The hotel had been on fire. It had been a heroic rescue. Or maybe the press should have commented on how the sprinkler system hadn’t kicked on. Possible death and lawsuit in the offing. Why weren’t they talking about that? Instead, all this site cared about was Ellie’s bare ass.

  “Scroll down,” Gia said. “There’s more.”

  Dread felt like a boulder in my gut, but I dutifully scrolled down. Ugh. More pictures. One of me and Ellie coming out of the building with Ben. We were sweaty, soot-stained, and grateful to be alive. But what did the article point to? The fact that Ellie obviously wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “Who’s publishing this?” I demanded.

  “A bullshit tabloid website.”

  “Then—”

  “Read the article.”

  Like hell I would. I didn’t want to dignify it with my time or attention. But I had to, because I needed to know what was being said about me and Ellie. Three sentences in, I was groaning. It was all about how Ellie, the old-fashioned girl, was actually Nurse Sexpot. That she’d made a big deal in front of her family about being a good girl when the truth was that she had jumped me the first moment we’d been alone. It even went on to slyly suggest that maybe she’d set the fire herself, just for the dramatic rescue.

  “It’s a lie,” I said. All of it, from beginning to end. I tossed the phone back at Gia. “Total bullshit lies.” Then I added a few more choice words about the paparazzi.

  Gia let me rant, nodding all the while. And when I’d finally run out of steam, she pierced my bubble.

  “Here’s the thing. This website is the worst, but they’re not alone. We made a big deal about it being an old-fashioned date. Your words. Her words. I created the press.”

  “But—”

  “And now they’re turning on Ellie. You’re the hero who rescued a kid from a burning building. But they need a villain and they’ve picked her.”

  “That doesn’t make sense!”

  “Of course not! And I’m sure whatever you were doing up there on your platonic date had nothing to do with sex. But that’s not what it looks like. The regular media isn’t going to make a big deal about this, but the internet is going crazy. Social media has tagged her as the slut who tempted you into a burning building.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  She didn’t answer at first, but just thumbed through her phone, then showed me an animated GIF that made my gut clench. It was horrible, and I couldn’t imagine what Ellie would do when she saw it.

  “How do I stop this? We can’t— This can’t—” I glared at Gia. “I’ll sue them. I’ll—”

  “You can’t stop the internet.” She sighed as she put her phone away. “Look, like I said, you’re going to meet the press downstairs.”

  “I won’t go down. I’ll sneak out the basement.”

  “And at the ballpark?”

  I groaned. I was going there. Even if I wasn’t going to play, I had to be there. And it would look really strange if I didn’t show up at the pregame press conference.

  “I’ll tell them…” My voice trailed away. What could I tell them? That I’d seduced Ellie? That we had just been two people caught up in each other? That would put her on equal footing with all the other baseball babes I’d taken back to my room, the scores of women I’d slept with, then abandoned after a hot night. The idea of sweet Ellie being compared to all the other women who’d graced my arm over the years made me sick. They were entirely different. They were overblown women with big tits and big mouths. I’d purposely picked them that way, so no one would confuse my spending time with them as anything but a one-night stand.

  But Ellie was different. And I couldn’t put her in the same class with those women. I just couldn’t.

  “I’m waiting, Jake. What are you going to say?”

  I swallowed. “The truth, I guess.”

  She cocked her head. “And that is…?”

  “That we’ve been dating for months now. In secret.” The words were out before I could think them through. There was no way I could get away with this. The logic just wasn’t there.

  “Come again?” Gia asked.

  But I was committed. So I stumbled through an explanation I made up on the fly. “Well, you know Connor. He, um, is really protective.”

  “Yeah. And no way in hell was he going to let a player like you date his cousin.”

  I winced, knowing it was true. But still, the characterization hurt. “Ellie and I started seeing each other months ago in secret,” I improvised, “but when it started getting serious, she wanted to come clean to her family. So we, um, staged that whole date thing just to get them thinking about the possibility. We didn’t want Connor to flip out.” I stepped forward, warming to my theme. “You saw him at the barbecue. He was furious, and that was just about a date. Without any kissing.”

  “Except she was in your bedroom last night—”

  I shrugged. “Um, yeah. That was a mistake.”

  “You think?”

  I sighed. “Look, Ellie didn’t seduce me—”

  “That’s the one thing I�
�m sure of.” Her voice was clipped and angry. “But that’s what happens when you date celebrities. The woman always gets trashed.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Really?” she drawled. “You’re the media darling. I’ve worked damn hard to make you a golden boy. So where does that leave her? She has no choice but to be the bad girl. The dirty secret—”

  “But she’s not! We’re…we’re…”

  “What? Engaged? Bullshit. She’s the only one for you? Ha ha. Remember, I busted up that party in Miami.”

  I flushed. And that, right there, was the reason I never drank tequila. Ever.

  “She is the one for me. You’ll see. We’re serious. Not engaged yet serious, but you know, serious.”

  She didn’t respond. She just stared at me with her eyes narrowed and her mouth tight. And then she exhaled slowly. “I can sell that, Jake, but only if it’s true. She has to be the one on your arm for the rest of the season. That’s four more months. No one else, and no more Miami parties.”

  “Never. I told you that back then, and I meant it.”

  She nodded, because it was true. “But what about this? What about Ellie?”

  I lifted my chin. “We’re dating. Like considering buying rings dating and have been for a while. I was just, you know, trying to find a way to break it to Connor.”

  “And Ellie will support that story? Or at least, not contradict it?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “And she’ll be on your arm all season? No one else?”

  “No one else,” I echoed.

  She waited a breath. Then another. But in the end, she nodded. “Good. Then we have a game plan.” She straightened to her full moderate height and headed toward the door. “Come on. Can’t keep the press waiting.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Right after I call Ellie.”

  Chapter Ten

  Ellie

  I slept like the dead. If the dead were horny and constantly reliving the feeling of being snatched from death by strong arms pulling me close. I finally gave up late in the morning. I had been working nights at the hospital, so my nights and days were messed up anyway. By the time I’d showered and thrown on some clothes, I hoped my parents would be gone. Golf game, maybe? Mom’s mah-jongg club? Hell, Dad often met with his friends at McDonald’s for coffee. I just didn’t want to face anyone until I’d had some time to process everything that had happened the night before.