Bad Bachelor

by Stefanie London

  “You’re not a regular guy.”

  “No, I suppose not. I’m the bad guy.” He stifled the flash of resentment as he thought of the review he read earlier that morning.

  Reed doesn’t give a crap about anyone but himself.

  That was it. No mention of the date, nothing to be gleaned from the username. He’d started to check in on the reviews more regularly, because something was sitting funny. His intuition told him that perhaps the whole Bad Bachelors thing wasn’t going to blow over like he’d hoped.

  He shook the niggling thought away. “Even villains need hobbies, I suppose. I play baseball.”

  “Beer league?”

  “Yeah, for shits and giggles.”

  “I doubt you do anything for shits and giggles.” She folded her arms across her chest and studied him openly. Her tongue darted out and she captured the ball of her stud between her teeth, playing with it in a way that captivated his attention. “I bet you’re super competitive.”

  His eyes tracked the flash of silver as she spoke. “So are most people.” He shrugged. “Difference is I have no problem admitting it.”

  “Fair.” She bobbed her head.

  What Darcy didn’t know was that she’d zeroed in on a messy bundle of memories from his past. Memories that had no place streaking across his mind like they were fresh and vivid when they should have stayed in the neat, little box where they belonged. But these memories were superstrength—no matter how many years passed, they had the ability to hit him with the force of a sucker punch.

  He remembered the air ruffling his hair as he looked up to the stands, pretending to smile at his folks. But really he was taking note of the scouts who’d come to watch him and another Little Leaguer. The men who sat and stared and took notes. They made him nervous, but in a good way. It filled him with extra-special energy that made his throws faster and his swings harder.

  “What do you do for fun?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I suppose you read.”

  “I do. I’m an unrepentant book nerd.” She pointed to the satchel by her feet. “I always have a book or my e-reader with me in case I have a few minutes to spare.”

  “And yet you were busy looking up Five-Star Darren while you waited for me.”

  She pursed her lips. “I know you think the app is evil because of the stuff they posted about you, but some women might find it helpful.”

  “Women like you?”

  “Yeah. Like me.” She narrowed her eyes defiantly. “You probably have no idea what it’s like, but I’m new to this dating thing and it’s a little daunting.”

  “And you think the app is going to be your safety net,” he scoffed. “Oh, Darcy, tell me you’re not that naive. You can’t believe everything you read.”

  “Says the guy with the bad score.” She looked him up and down. “I’m sure you’ll understand why I take your opinion with a grain of salt.”

  He opened his mouth to retort, but for once he had nothing to say. Nor any energy to think up a quip. As much as he enjoyed to-ing and fro-ing with Darcy, his mind was occupied with other things.

  You don’t have to come right now. I know you’re busy…

  They spent the rest of the journey in relative silence, with Reed staring out the window as the city slowly rolled by.

  Darcy’s expression sobered as they pulled up in front of the hospital. “I hope they’re okay…whoever it is.”

  His dad would be fine. He had to be.

  * * *

  Darcy watched the emotion disappear from Reed’s face as they pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Brooklyn Hospital Center. He looked as though he might be about to step into a meeting. Gone was the deep furrow between his brows; gone was the haunted look in his eyes. Even as they’d joked—something Darcy often did when she wasn’t sure how to deal with a situation—there’d been an undercurrent of tension in his voice. For a guy who was on the ball, he’d seemed distracted.

  Whoever was in that hospital meant a great deal to him.

  “I trust you’ll keep this detour to yourself,” he said, unbuckling his belt.

  “You really think you need to say that?” She frowned. “Who the hell would I tell?”

  “Forgive me for being overly cautious, but my life has moved into the spotlight recently.” He shoved the door open and the noise of the outside world filtered in. “A lot of people seem quite happy to share the nitty-gritty details of my life with the whole world.”

  Maybe Reed was more hurt by his Bad Bachelor reviews than he let on. For the first time since she’d downloaded the app’s little, pink icon onto her phone, she thought about what it meant beyond her. All these men were being rated like they were products for people to dump into a shopping cart. How would she feel if someone did that to her? What if her ex-fiancé had decided to spill the beans on their failed relationship to the whole world?

  Darcy Greer is a sweet, loyal girl, but she’s totally oblivious to the outside world. She didn’t even realize I was gay until she walked in on me kissing another man…

  “I won’t say anything,” she said. “I promise.”

  He paused for a moment, his eyes burning into her with a fierce intensity. “Thank you.”

  He shut the door and the sound ping-ponged through her head as she watched him walk up to the hospital’s large entrance. People streamed in and out, like ants running up and down a hill. But her eyes were stuck on Reed—on his smooth gait and the way he held himself like a king.

  “Miss?”

  Darcy jumped. She’d totally forgotten Reed’s driver was waiting for her to hand over an address…and that the partition was down, meaning he would’ve had full view of her staring after his client.

  “Do you know who’s in there?” she asked as Reed disappeared into the building.

  “No, I don’t.” The driver met her eyes in the rearview mirror, his expression cool and professional. Even if he did know, he didn’t seem the type to gossip. Probably a good thing, considering Reed’s current issues. “Now, where can I take you?”

  She was about to hand over her address when her gaze snagged on something resting on Reed’s seat. His wallet. Her hand smoothed over the buttery soft leather, her thumb brushing the subtle RM stitched into one corner.

  “I think I’ll walk.” She scooted along the back seat and cupped Reed’s wallet in her hand. If the driver noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Thanks anyway.”

  “You sure?” The driver asked and she nodded. “All right.”

  Darcy stepped out into the mild air and looked up. The sky was bright and sunny, creating a vivid backdrop for the behemoth building in front of her. It was ugly and brown, and had the strange, unintentional shape of a building that’d grown out of necessity, with more thought to function than form.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  Reed’s haunted expression stuck in her head. For a guy who was, from all accounts, a selfish, manipulative, say-anything-to-get-what-he-wants bastard…it didn’t fit. Darcy looked back to the curb. The black car had already taken off into the steady stream of traffic, leaving her alone. Maybe she should walk home and then call Reed later to let him know about the wallet, rather than intruding.

  She flipped it open. An old photo stared back at her—a young Reed with the man who presumably was his father. They both wore baseball gloves and identical crooked smiles.

  “Why are you getting involved?” she muttered to herself.

  She should have handed the wallet over to the driver and gone on her way. It would have been the smart thing to do. Perhaps it was curiosity—she’d discovered a little imperfection in the fabric of Reed McMahon’s image and now she was pulling at that rogue thread so she could see what unraveled.

  He’s not a mystery for you to uncover. He’s a real person, a work associate. It’s none of your business.

 
; Her mouth twitched. No, not associate. What had he called her? His companion? That slick wordsmith wasn’t the same man she’d seen a moment ago, the one who was worried about what people thought and who was concerned for someone else’s well-being. The one-two slap of her Docs against concrete rang in her ears.

  The closer she got the hospital, the faster her heart beat. There was something about the smell of hospitals that unsettled her—that unique mix of antiseptic and sickness that curdled in her nostrils.

  “Just hand over the wallet and get the hell out of here,” she said under her breath.

  She had no business butting into Reed’s personal life. But, from the glimpse he’d given her a moment ago, it didn’t sound like he had many friends on speed dial. She spotted him standing at the reception desk, in a heated discussion with an older woman. Were they arguing? No, she was trying to calm him down. A nurse behind the desk intervened, pushing some papers toward Reed.

  Reed had shucked his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, exposing strong forearms smattered with hair. A heavy watch glinted at his wrist. Even amid the worst lighting in the world, he looked as though he’s stepped out of a photo shoot for a men’s fashion magazine. But his hair was even more roughed up than before and his brows were creased in unconcealed worry. Somehow, he managed to look furious and despondent all at once.

  This is crossing a line. You don’t know him and his personal issues are none of your business.

  Reed turned and headed for the elevators, shoulders squared and jaw set. People moved out of his way, as Darcy imagined they did most of the time. He had the kind of presence that caused others to change their course, to accommodate him without even realizing what they were doing.

  “Reed,” she called out, waving his wallet.

  The crowd didn’t part for her the way it did for him. She shoved her way past a large group gathered by the reception desk.

  “Reed!” Her voice was lost in the din of wailing babies and hospital chatter.

  He stepped into the elevator before she could catch his attention and the doors slid shut. Shit. Now what was she supposed to do? Darcy spotted the woman who’d been speaking to Reed a moment ago. She had a bag slung over one arm and a weary expression that deepened the wrinkles around her eyes.

  “Excuse me,” Darcy said, approaching her. “I need to find Reed McMahon. Do you know what room he’s going to?”

  The older woman narrowed her eyes, her gaze sweeping up and down Darcy, lingering on the tattoos decorating her arm. Darcy was used to it; she called it the I’m glad you’re not dating my son look. It was usually encountered whenever she bumped into one of her mother’s friends or if she got stuck waiting in line at the drugstore.

  “Why would I tell you that?” She pursed her lips.

  “I’m guessing he’d like this back.” Darcy held the wallet up. “He dropped it.”

  “Is this a trick?” She held her hand out. “How do I even know it’s his?”

  Darcy flipped the wallet open and handed it over. “We were supposed to have a meeting when he got the call to come here. He rushed out of the car and I found this on the back seat.”

  The woman’s expression softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were being dishonest. We’ve had a few reporters lurking around and they’re not above using those kinds of tricks.”

  “Oh.” Darcy blinked. “Sorry to hear that.”

  She handed the wallet back. “I’m Donna, by the way. I take care of Reed’s father.”

  “Darcy Greer. I’m a client…sort of.” She thought about elaborating but decided against it. “So, do you know where I can find him?”

  “They’ve just transferred Adam to a single room.” She rattled off the number and some vague directions. “I’d offer to take it up for you, but I’m running late for an appointment.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll manage.”

  “I really am sorry about before. There’s a reporter who’s been bothering Adam and I’m at my wit’s end about it all.” She sighed. “They’re painting that poor boy as a devil all because of some stupid website. Imagine hounding a sickly man for gossip about his only son.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  Darcy bid Donna goodbye and headed toward the elevators, her mind whirring with questions. Reed’s father must have been ill if he had someone looking after him even before he went into hospital. She flipped the wallet open and looked at the picture again, her heart squeezing at the love shining out of young Reed’s face. What must it be like to have that kind of a bond with a parent?

  She honestly didn’t know. If she’d known her father, her life might’ve been different. She could have become a person who carried a treasured memory in her back pocket at all times. But her mother had never even given her the chance.

  Maybe, might have, could have.

  Dangerous words that led to dangerous thoughts. She stepped into the elevator and jabbed at the fourth-floor button. All she had to do was get in, give him the wallet, and then get the hell out of there before she made any more stupid decisions.

  Chapter 8

  “I ‘dated’ Reed for three weeks. In that time, I didn’t learn a thing about him—nothing about where he came from, nothing about his family or his personal life. Nada. The man is locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”

  —IDreamofGeniality

  “Jesus, Dad.” Reed walked into the small single hospital room where his father lay in bed, machines beeping softly in the background. “Do I need to start padding the house with Bubble-Wrap?”

  His father scowled. “Enjoy this while it lasts. The second they haven’t got me hooked up to these blasted tubes, I’ll swat you with the back of my hand.”

  “I saw Donna downstairs.” He glanced at the table containing Adam’s barely touched lunch. In keeping with his last few hospital visits, he’d only eaten the pudding.

  “Did you fire her? I told her I didn’t need no ambulance.” He grunted. “That woman is always making a mountain out of a mole hill.”

  Reed didn’t bother to mention that Donna had been well and truly spooked by Adam’s fall. Apparently, he’d hit the coffee table so hard on the way down that the glass had shattered, and all she’d been able to focus on was the splatter of blood on his white undershirt. It was a miracle Adam hadn’t put his hand straight through it and severed a major artery. As it was, his right hand and wrist were badly scratched up, but the damage was mostly superficial.

  The real issue, however, was whether he had a concussion. Signs appeared negative, but they were keeping him overnight just in case.

  “I told her not to call you,” Adam added. He tried to lift his injured hand to reach for the glass of water but winced when he flexed his muscles against the bandages. “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with such trivial crap.”

  “In what universe is your health ‘trivial crap’? Give me some credit.”

  The words stung more than Reed would ever let on, but he knew his father was only trying to minimize the situation. At some point, however, Adam would have to face up to his declining health. Unfortunately, no matter how much Donna and Reed tried to discuss it with him, the denial still had him in an iron grip.

  “I’m just saying, maybe it’s time for Donna to go.” Adam brought the water glass to his lips, his hand shaking so much he almost spilled it on himself.

  Reed reached out. “Here, let me—”

  “I’m not a child,” he snapped. “I can hold my own goddamn glass.”

  Don’t poke the bear. “Okay, okay.”

  Every time Adam ended up in the hospital, they played this game. Reed would pay the bills, and Adam would get cranky about the littlest things because he hated accepting help but knew he had no choice where the finances were concerned. So he’d take back his power by complaining about everything in an effort to forget what he was really upset abo
ut.

  And around and around and around they went. Every. Fucking. Time.

  “I don’t want you hanging around here all night either.” Adam set the glass down. “So don’t even think about staying.”

  “I’ll run back to your place and bring you a change of clothes for tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry about—”

  “Wasn’t a suggestion.” He stared the older man down for a moment until he saw a flash of reluctant resignation.

  “You’re a stubborn bastard, Reed.” His father laughed, a cough abruptly cutting off the rare sound.

  “I learned from the best,” he said dryly. His eyes skated over the room, taking in the generic setup—one bed, one visitor chair, one bland print on the wall. White on white. The constant hum of machinery. Every time he got a call from Donna or the hospital, Reed wondered if his father might let him help this time. If he might want him there.

  As yet, no such luck.

  “Did you bring a visitor?” Adam interrupted Reed’s thoughts with a raised, bushy brow and a nod to the door.

  “What? No.” He turned, wondering what the hell kind of drugs they’d given the old man, when he caught a familiar face staring at him from the doorway.

  Darcy. What was she doing here?

  “Uh, hi.” She raised her hand in a tentative greeting.

  Her teeny tiny denim shorts and chunky, black boots looked wildly out of place against the sterile backdrop of the hospital hallway. Her blue eyes were vibrant and so full of personality that everything else faded around her.

  “Did you follow me up here?” He cringed internally at how harsh he sounded. But dealing with his dad never failed to give his worry a jagged edge.

  “You dropped this.” She held up his wallet, but she still hadn’t ventured into the room.

  Her gaze darted back and forth between him and his father, her curiosity unconcealed. Instinct roared at him to push her away, to close the door so she couldn’t see the real him—the raw and unedited and unfiltered him.

  “Who’s this lovely young woman?” Suddenly Adam’s voice was smooth as butter. “Is she a friend of yours, Reed?”