Breathless (Players to Men)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “Shh!” I slapped my wet hand over his mouth, my face scorching hot and my insides trembling with need at what he promised, knowing he’d deliver.

  Kissing my damp palm, amusement tugging his mouth, Max swiped a dishtowel and started drying. “You’re beautiful when you blush, you know that?”

  Jeez. I splashed soapy water at him. He glanced at his damp t-shirt then back at me, said nothing, but the look in his eyes promised retribution, one my body waited for in anticipation.

  “So what does ‘yaar’ mean?” he asked, setting a dried glass on the counter.

  I wrinkled my nose. Yeah, he would catch that. “The way my mom said it means man, buddy—as in ‘oh man, you’re full of—’ well you get the picture.”

  “Should I be scared if you use that word on me?” he teased.

  I laughed. “Very. You should hide… I’m sorry about all the questions my mom laid on you.”

  He shrugged. “It isn’t like it’s a big secret. The tabloids made sure every person on the street knew all my family’s shit.”

  “Yeah, hate those dumbasses.” Ray walked in, dumping more dishes on the table. “I feel for you, Maximus, but living with us, you’ll be safe from them.” She disappeared back to the dining room.

  “So…” I eyed him carefully. “You hid at my apartment because of the media?”

  “You know why I stayed with you,” he said quietly, his gaze holding mine in a way that had my tummy dipping. “After Peru, Jack’s place no longer appealed. I’d changed; I wanted the quiet, something different. Then I met you… Besides, Jack and I practically shared the same crib since birth, and that meant hearing about or seeing the two people I prefer not to.”

  “Your dad?”

  He cut me a brooding look, said nothing.

  Right. “And the other person?”

  A tick started in his jaw. “His girlfriend.”

  I had no idea what to say. Judging by his tight features, he disliked talking about his family. But Ray was right, he’d be safe from the press living with us. I lived a low-key life—hell, I was practically a recluse.

  “Logan, why didn’t you ask me anything after that woman Kate mentioned who I was?” he asked, his expression unreadable as he dried a glass. “Or did you Google me?”

  “No,” I huffed. “I didn’t. I’d rather learn things directly from you.”

  Max stared at me for a second as if at a loss for words, then he set the glass down and simply wrapped his arms around me, his hard chest pressed to my back. He kissed me softly on my nape as if in gratitude.

  A warm, fuzzy feeling took hold of me, warring with my determination to keep this light and only about sex. No, I couldn’t let my guard down, I just couldn’t.

  ***

  A half hour later, I sent Max off to the den so he could catch a replay of a football match with my dad, and I made my way upstairs to my attic bedroom to unpack my clothes. I’d moved in here when I turned fifteen because of the view.

  A low, sloped, wooden roof gave my room a cabin-like ambiance. The bay window that overlooked the backyard and the encroaching woods was ideal for painting. I loved this secluded spot, the quiet, the isolation. While Ray was outgoing, I preferred being home, reading my books or painting. Which was why Dad had turned the loft into my little piece of heaven.

  Once my things were put away, I crossed to the tiny bathroom and washed my face. Then stared at my reflection in the mirror. Nope, I looked no different. Yet deep within, I felt the shift. The change.

  After months of not feeling, now, everything inside me churned with confusion. I recalled the look on Max’s face the day we took the kids to the park. He was good at showing the world the hardass who didn’t give a crap about anyone or anything, but I knew different. Max cared. His pretense hid a world of anger and vulnerability, and it troubled me.

  After I had dried my face with a towel, I applied a little moisturizer, then headed downstairs to the guest bedroom—where Dad had relocated their bedroom after Mom’s fall—in search of my mother. I found her engrossed in one of her romances. Reading was the only thing that kept her off her feet and resting. In spite of her setbacks—the illness that had taken over her body since she was twenty and finally knocked her down four years ago—she was still so lovely, serene.

  She reclined against the headboard, a pillow at her back. At my entrance, she looked up and smiled, the fine lines at the corners of her golden brown eyes crinkling. She patted the mattress beside her.

  I crawled over and lay down, resting my head on her lap. “What is it, love?” Gentle fingers stroked my hair. “You always come to me like this when you’re troubled.”

  Did I? I had no idea. But I was glad the slur in her speech had eased. I inhaled a deep breath, trying to settle. Mom continued running her fingers through my hair, then paused as she turned another page. “So, he’s the one,” she said softly.

  I froze, my heart clopping hard against my ribs. “Who?”

  “Max, dear.”

  “Mom. We’re just friends,” I evaded, grimacing at my words. Ugh, Max and I could never be just friends. The hunger between us flared so powerfully, it was a wonder no one got scorched when we were close. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t ease the need burning in us both. What was he waiting for?

  Thankfully, Mom didn’t call me out on my fast denial.

  “You were so young when you made that commitment to Devyn,” she said quietly. “I hate that he hurt you, and you shut yourself off from living. But, darling, in life, you get hurt; you pick yourself up and move on. You’ve been alone too long. Spread your wings—fly. Live again. And you will find a love so amazing, it will make what you felt for Devyn pale in comparison.”

  Tears misted my eyes. She made it sound so easy. “I don’t know how, Mom… I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. I don’t know Max, but the fact that he’s here, pretending to only be friends because it’s something you want? It says a lot.”

  “Mom—” I shot up from the bed in protest.

  She patted my arm. Smiled. “I had a stroke, love, I’m not blind. At first, I thought he was Ray’s friend, but during dinner, the way he spoke to you, there’s an underlying tenderness in his tone. And when he called you Logan, I realized the truth.”

  A watery laugh escaped me. How could I forget her uncanny sixth sense? I slid my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. “I missed you.”

  Her smile slipped, sadness realigned her beloved features. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.”

  Guilt and pain slipped through my protective shields. “Mom, you were ill, and recovering from painful surgery.” Pulling in a deep breath, I tread on ground still too shaky when it came to her. “How are you feeling?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Not you, too, La. Your father watches over me like a hawk—he refuses to go back to work full-time.”

  I cut her a determined stare. “Mom, how do you feel?”

  With a wave of her hand, she dismissed my question, like she always did. “I’m fine, I promise. Go now, La, let me finish this wonderful book.” A dreamy sigh. “I love this couple…”

  ***

  Frustrated, I left Mom to her reading and made my way to the living room. Ray was absorbed in her texting. Max pulled his gaze away from the television and glanced my way. I gave him a quick smile and turned to my father. “Dad? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  He nodded.

  I walked out and stopped in the kitchen, Dad behind me. The new lines around his mouth, the weariness in his expression even though he tried to hide it, made my chest hurt. I removed the check Titus had given me from my jeans pocket and held it out. “I got commissioned to do a full painting, this should help some with the medical bills.”

  My father stared at it for a long minute, then his shoulders sagged. “I should be looking out for you girls. Instead, you look out for us.”

  “Dad, what happened to Mom is no one’s fault. You think I don’t know the t
oll it’s taken on you financially, and that Aunt Mary comes over to be caregiver to Mom when you can’t be here?”

  His lips pressed together, his eyes shiny with tears.

  “Oh, Dad.” I hugged him, guilt consuming me further. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t around much then. I…I needed time—”

  “Don’t you ever apologize. If I weren’t so frantic over your mother, I’d have killed the ba—swine for what he did to you. But I’m so glad you came home, sweetheart. Tomorrow will be good.”

  Dragging in a deep breath to ease the constriction of my chest, I eased back and asked, “About Mom, what did Dr. Garrick say? She won’t tell me anything, or even how she’s feeling.”

  Sadness deepened the lines of grief on his handsome face. “She’s had several small strokes in the last few months—no, we didn’t know when it happened. Mom doesn’t, either. I thank God she’s still lucid and knows us. Her speech slurs at times when she’s upset, anxious, or excited, and walking is tough on her. It’s why Aunt Mary’s going to stay with us for a while…” He broke off, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “Even though I work at home, I can’t always be with her. Mom has to be constantly monitored, but she won’t have any of that ‘hovering,’ says she’s fine. She can be so cranky,”—he smiled a little—“and headstrong. Like someone else I know.” He cast me a fond look.

  My throat tightened with unshed tears. It took everything in me not to cry and ruin this weekend for everyone. Swallowing hard, I put the check in my father’s hand.

  “What about your dreams of travelling to Italy, painting, visiting art galleries and such?” he asked, staring at the piece of paper.

  My heart dipped. It was a teenage dream that had been shelved. Devyn had gotten angry, he didn’t want me going off on my own even though I’d told him it would only be for three months, not a year like I’d planned. But this sacrifice, I’d willingly make. “Italy will always be there, Dad.”

  But Mom may not, the unsaid words lingered heavily in the air. My chest constricted, and I hugged my father again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart.” He kissed my brow then looked over my head and smiled, slipping the check into his pocket. “Max. Come in.”

  Not wanting Max to see me so distressed, I took a moment to smooth my expression into a calm one before turning. Dad rubbed my shoulder then left us.

  Max strolled closer. He stopped a few feet from me, inscrutable green eyes skimming over my face.

  I forced a small smile. “You want coffee or a beer?”

  “You want to go to Italy?”

  So he’d only caught the last part of my conversation. I switched on the percolator. “Yes.” But now I wouldn’t—couldn’t.

  “I see.” Max studied me with a brooding expression. “Were you going to tell me about this?”

  Surprised, I stared at him. Truth was, I hadn’t thought about it. “I guess I would have. But that plan is on hold for now.”

  “Why?”

  I opened a packet of peanut butter cookies and set them on a plate. “I have too much going on. Maybe in a few years’ time.”

  “Ila. Max,” Ray flew into the kitchen, cell clutched in her hand. “Me and my girls are going over to the Slider’s, you both coming?”

  I bit back the “no” that would have automatically left my mouth. “Live,” Mom had said. I’d already taken that first step, I realized, with this incredible guy beside me. “All right.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Max said. “Slider’s?”

  “A pub. Our old hangout.”

  ***

  A half hour later, we walked into the pub, and some old metal song rocked the place. It was exactly as I recalled from two years before. Noisy, with many familiar faces who knew everyone’s business. Yep, life in a small town.

  Some stared at me, others waved as I followed Ray to the table at the opposite side where my sister’s old school friends, Missy and Denise, waved like maniacs. A smile tugged at my mouth. Those girls were crazier than a basketful of nuts and flirted with anyone in pants.

  More chairs were added to the table and intros took place. “Guys, this is my friend Max,” Ray said. “Max, that’s Denise,”—she pointed to the tan brunette with the wild, springy locks—“and the rainbow-haired one is Missy.”

  “Oh, man, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Can I have you?” Missy asked, winking at Max. He merely smiled and sat beside me.

  “Really, Miss?” Ray snorted. “What about that one there, with that mop of chocolate curls, huh?” She nodded to one of two dark-headed guys approaching with drinks.

  “Oh, he’s my main squeeze. Leo, sweetie, you won’t mind if I take this delish man-dish of inky goodness for a trial run, would you, baby?” she asked him, taking the martini glass he handed her.

  I liked Missy, but right now… Not so much.

  “Then it’s only fair I have her,” he nodded at me and grinned.

  Max’s smile slid off his face.

  I guess we both didn’t care for that, even if it was in jest.

  “Enough, you doofuses.” Ray introduced the guys. “Leo, Chris, my sister, Ila, and Max.”

  They greeted me then gave Max the once-over before saying, “Hey.” They appeared to know who he was.

  The conversation flowed, Max shifted, and as his thigh pressed against mine, the tension in him seemed to ease.

  Ray, seated on my other side, lifted her hand, and a waiter appeared. “A Heineken, a white wine spritzer, and a vodka tonic, please.”

  “Your friends finally found boyfriends, why not you?” I asked Ray.

  “Because I haven’t met anyone that makes me want to change my mind. The males of the species, I found, are either cheats, drunks, or skirt-chasers. And a general pain in the ass.”

  Leo laughed, pulling Missy close. Chris protested. “Ouch, that’s a little harsh, Ray.”

  Max said nothing. He just folded his arms over his chest.

  “You two have yet to prove yourselves.” Obviously, Ray was on friendly terms with the guys. “Anyway,” she continued, “I don’t have time to pamper their fragile egos. My studies are more important, and I have plans for my future. When I eventually need them for sperm, I’ll find a suitable donor. For now, nope. Come on, Max, let’s dance.”

  As he rose, his gaze met mine briefly before he followed Ray onto the DJ-manned dance floor, where a small, frenzied crowd of dancers took up space as another song with a faster beat started. Right, Friday was 80s night.

  I sipped my drink and tried not to stare. Even though Max’s movements weren’t as energized as my sister’s, he looked really hot gyrating to the beat of Funky Town. He smiled at something Ray yelled, and a warm feeling unfurled deep inside me. I wanted to be the one on the dance floor with him, be in his arms. My heart tripped. No. We’d made a pact. Max was my stepping-stone back into the world of the living.

  “Come on.” Chris pulled Denise along to the floor. Leo glanced at Missy. “You want to?”

  “Nah, maybe later.” She braced her arms on the table. “Please tell me you’re doing the henna stall at the fair again?”

  “I am, actually.”

  “Great. I want one of your designs.”

  “I’m only on for the morning shift,” I warned, sipping more of my vodka. “Someone else is doing the noon one.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” Setting my glass on the wooden table, I pushed to my feet and made my way to the ladies’ room.

  As I left the restroom, I stumbled to a halt at the model-tall woman in stilettos waiting to enter. God, not again.

  The past came rushing back. Pain and betrayal tore through me, remembering—seeing—this woman splayed on the desk, Devyn between her thighs while his ring was on my finger…

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Millbrae’s little princess come back home,” Simi drawled, her red lips gleaming in a little smile.

  Teeth clamped, I walked past—or tried to—but she stepped in my way. She liked
using her height to intimidate. Dark eyes set in a dusky-brown face studied me coolly. “I’d say I’m sorry about what happened, but that would be a lie. He was never yours, you know.”

  I didn’t care about Devyn. The words burst free. “How could you, Simi? We’re family!”

  “Our mothers may be sisters, but that doesn’t make us friends. And, how could I?” A sneer entered her tone. “Easy. I’ve always wanted him. When he came to the bar so often all alone, looking so sad, I saw my chance. And why not? You didn’t have time for him anymore.”

  “Because Mom…my family needed me.”

  “Oh, right, your perfect little family. Sean, Maya, Ila, and Ray.” The civil veneer dropped, and anger darkened her sharp features. “Your mother got sick, boo-fucking-hoo. The world didn’t come to a standstill. Others had lives, too, and couldn’t wait for you to realize that and fit them in. My mother died when I was ten. You didn’t see me making a big deal out of it. Shit happens. Deal with it, move on—”

  “By sleeping with someone else’s fiancé?” I snapped. Despite wanting to slap her perfect face so badly for the callous comments about my mother, I wasn’t a violent person. I fisted my fingers instead.

  Simi had always had a thing for Devyn, and she’d never seemed to like me. Why? I had no clue. But to extend her bizarre hatred to my family, too? Her family. I hadn’t realized just how awful a person my so-called cousin truly was.

  “If he really loved you, he wouldn’t have strayed. I saw my chance and took it.” A sly smile curved her mouth. “It wasn’t just that day we fucked. We’d been doing it for six months until you caught us. God, I’m so glad you did. I was fed up with being the bit on the side.”

  As old wounds started to bleed again. Feeling as if my lungs were shutting down, I shoved away from her and rushed to the front of the bar. I pushed through the crowd entering and sprinted out into the cool night, stopping only when I found myself near Max’s Jeep. Bracing a palm on the door, I gulped in harsh breaths of air.