“Knock, knock,” the puppy lady called from the doorway. “How are we doing in here?”
I wrenched my mouth from Ari’s with a confused pant, before dropping my hand down to hide the baseball bat in my sweatpants. “F-fine.”
It was not fine. I’d been seconds away from slipping my hands into the pants of a woman who, up until three minutes ago, had never been kissed.
The puppy lady entered and I reached for my crutches, stumbling from the bed like a drunk. “Just remembered—late night, uh, icing. With Rocky—he’s my therapist. Guy’s a little different, but nice enough, you know?”
I was rambling.
Ari tore her gaze away from my erection and reached up to touch her lips, a strange expression passing over her face. “Okay?”
Grief.
I felt it too.
The loss of something too complicated to put into words. It left me aching over the distance I’d put between us. I wanted to be close enough to breathe the same air that Ari was, but I couldn’t stay, at least not in my current state.
And now I remembered why I’d been holding myself back. My past was filled with mistakes. I wouldn’t let her become one of them by rushing things. If she’d never been kissed before now, I could only assume she was still a virgin. I wasn’t willing to take anything she wasn’t ready to give.
Ari deserved the best version of Killian Reed, and that was what she was going to get.
Just as soon as I dealt with my dick.
Somehow, I managed to make it back to my room without exploding and leaned against the door frame, fighting to catch my breath.
Her first.
Mine.
I stumbled toward the bed, blaming my limited vocabulary on the lack of blood flowing to my brain and not some sort of regression into a knuckle-dragging caveman.
There were times Ari looked up at me, and I saw a woman with only one thing on her mind. Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone again, replaced with wide-eyed innocence.
I closed my eyes, seeing the briefest flash of a face backlit by the setting sun. The angel who’d saved me. But, instead of a blurred face hovering over me, it was Ari. The rays of light caught her hair, illuminating every strand of red until it appeared to be glowing. Waves lapped against the shore, but I was focused solely on her.
Ignoring a brief twinge protest from my knee, I shoved my hand into the front of my sweats before diving headfirst into my fantasy.
Need slammed into me. I stroked my cock, envisioning the feel of Ari’s long hair brushing against the tops of my thighs while she rode me. How she’d cover her mouth to stifle her moans, her hips bucking forward involuntarily, seeking me out.
It was too much. I quickly lost control with a shuddered growl, dampening my hand and stomach. The sounds of my ragged breathing filtered into my semi-conscious state, delivering a healthy dose of reality.
I was fucked.
Not physically, no. Physically, I was spent and ready for sleep. Emotionally, however, I wasn’t faring quite as well. Kissing Ari tonight had only made me want her more, and deep down, I knew that no fantasy would come close to alleviating the ache in my chest.
Did people cherish her back home? Did they feel the emptiness without her there?
I did, and she was just across the hall.
15
Killian
“There are no whys in a person’s life, and very few hows. In the end, in search of useful wisdom, you could only come back to the most hackneyed concepts, like kindness, forbearance, infinite patience. Solomon and Lincoln: This too shall pass. Damn right it will. Or Chekhov: Nothing passes. Equally true.”
-Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding
“Eh, did I call it, or did I call it?” Theo tapped the stack of papers with a self-satisfied smirk. “Philly, Chicago, Anaheim, Tampa, DC, Boston—take your pick. You want sun or snow? Me, personally, I’d go with sun.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Six weeks ago, I was being carted off the field, convinced my career was over. Now, I had multiple offers to play damn near anywhere in the country. Life might have thrown me a curveball, but I’d still managed to crush it.
They still wanted me.
She wanted me.
I was on cloud nine.
Theo fidgeted with his eighteen karat gold baseball cufflinks; no doubt worn just for the occasion. “Tick tock, Reed. Let’s accept one of these, put some ink to paper, and get you the hell back in a uniform.”
“Now, wait a minute. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you not say I’d have an offer before the end of the season? Hate to break it to you, but you missed your deadline.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep a straight face.
His grin shifted from confident to irritated as he retrieved the papers from the table. “While you’ve been rehabbing, I’ve been guaranteeing your future on the field. You wanted offers. You’ve got offers. You don’t want offers, then don’t fucking call me to say you do.”
I dropped my hand onto the stack, sliding it back toward me. “Oh, I want all the offers.”
And then it hit me. There was one franchise missing from the list—Houston. Frankly, no one in their right mind had expected the team to make another offer after I’d rejected their first.
Well, no one except me.
Crazy: party of one.
Houston was my home. I’d built a life around cobalt blue and white—colors I’d hoped to be wearing until I took my last run around the bases. How was I supposed to make a choice when it would mean leaving the city I loved behind?
Not to mention Ari.
Christ, Ari.
I couldn’t ask her to uproot her entire life after just one kiss. Granted, it had been the best kiss of my life, but moving across the country together was not taking it slow. It was a recipe for disaster.
So, maybe we’d live in different cities, but with my parents and Bailey still around, it wasn’t as if I was leaving Houston forever. And whatever this was between us, it was still in the early stages.
Delicate.
I’d committed to doing right by Ari. Asking her to give up her life to follow me to a new city went against that. She had her own dreams—maybe even a musical career here in Houston. If I wanted it to last, then I was going to have to play the long game and take things slow.
We were living in an age of technology—I could video chat her every day if I wanted to—and when I was in town, we’d be together. Plus, if I kept my condo, we wouldn’t have to worry about roommates either.
This was a good thing.
Only, I couldn’t stand leaving her room at night. How in the hell was I supposed to manage living in another state?
“Is there a problem, Killian?” Theo broke into my thoughts. “You haven’t looked at a single one of those pages.”
“Sorry, got lost there for a second,” I mumbled distractedly before flipping through the stack.
As far as offers went, they were about what I expected, given my injury. They all came with an unspoken caveat in the form of options—optional assignment down in the minors, option to be placed on waivers, option to be released.
Clubs just weren’t willing to take a risk on a long-term, high salary contract without knowing how I was going to return next spring.
Philly and Anaheim were both offering a three-year contract at two hundred seventy-five million. Boston and DC had come in with a seven-year contract at three hundred while Tampa and Chicago had gone with an underwhelming three years at one hundred fifty.
Frankly, I wasn’t surprised.
Under normal circumstances, the two clubs wouldn’t have approached me at all, but my injury had leveled the playing field. Now, they were all banking on me being desperate enough to agree to their bargain-basement pricing. If I came back better than before, then it was a steal. On the off chance I didn’t—well, the cost wouldn’t sink their franchise.
It seemed I’d been stripped of my crown, my achievements and records reduced to a mere byline in
the history of the game.
I wasn’t baseball royalty anymore.
I was a liability.
“You know,” Theo began casually, scrolling through his phone. “If you’re unhappy with the offers—”
“It’s not that.” I fought to keep the bitterness out of my tone, even though I was basically restarting my career from scratch. “I’m grateful. Really. Just a lot to think about, you know?”
He nodded and slid his phone across the table. “I was actually going to say I’ve got one more I’d like you to take a look at—kind of a ‘best for last’ type thing.”
Houston Hurricanes-
13-year, $425m
I released a strangled breath, no longer able to feel my face. My eyes moved from the name down to the numbers, and then back again, convinced it was a typo.
“That’s—” I choked on the word. “But that’s more than their initial offer!”
He sat back with a grin. “You play to win, Killian. So do I. Now, it’s less than the sixty million you would have gotten per year with the first offer, but the longer contract means—”
“I can retire wearing cobalt blue and white,” I said, more to myself than him.
Sure—in the grand scheme of things—four hundred twenty-five million over the next thirteen years worked out to less money overall. It also meant I wouldn’t be competing against rookies for a contract at thirty-two-years-old either, though.
You couldn’t put a price tag on that.
Most major-league players peaked before the age of thirty while the all-stars and hall-of-famers typically didn’t hang up the cleats until their mid-thirties, or even early-forties.
In thirteen years, I’d be thirty-nine.
Barring future injuries, I’d get to go out on my own terms.
“I’ll let them know we accept—” Theo raised a brow. “That is unless you’ve suddenly grown fond of the idea of digging your goddamn car out every time there’s a blizzard.”
I shook my head, still in shock. “No, I’m a Hurricane.”
“Alright then.” He returned the papers to a leather messenger bag that was just pretentious enough to have his initials engraved in the middle. “Once their lawyers draft the contract, I’ll have yours look it over. If everything’s in order, I don’t see any reason that you wouldn’t be signed by the end of the week. Perfect timing, right?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Theo looked up with a frown. “You’re being discharged tomorrow, Killian. This gives you a chance to get home and get settled before doing the media circuit.”
“I thought I still had another week or two—”
His eyes narrowed. “Your physical therapist said you’d done remarkably well and recommended you for home therapy in his last report. I thought you’d be thrilled to be rid of this place.”
“I am,” I quickly added. True North, maybe. But not her. “I guess I was under the impression that I’d be the first to know.”
Rocky had said I was close but hadn’t given me an exact date. Then again, it wasn’t as if we’d ever really warmed up to each other.
Theo cracked another grin. “What do you expect? You’re a product, man. It’s not your job to know, it’s your job to perform.”
I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip.
He stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “If you’re trying to decide what to get me, I’m partial to those Cuban cigars you had at the All-Star game a couple of years ago. Maybe a box—hell, make it two boxes.”
I nodded again, making a mental note to get Theo whatever he wanted. I had more pressing matters to attend to—like how I was going to tell Ari I was leaving. Once news of my record-breaking contract broke, I was going to be swarmed for interviews. It was impossible to know when—or if—I’d be able to make it back.
“By the way,” he added. “You’re welcome.”
Ari might have been under the impression I had a big head, but that was only because she hadn’t been introduced to one Theodore Heyman, Jr.
It was part of what made him a great agent. Well, that and his ability to capitalize on just about any situation, spinning it into something the masses would readily consume.
If only he could help me find a way to satisfy one passion without losing the other.
* * *
We’d agreed not to acknowledge each other outside of her room. I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from chasing her down in the hallway later that afternoon.
After Theo left, I’d called my mama and told her the news. It wasn’t long after that my father began blowing up my phone to congratulate me on my contract before asking if he could take me to dinner. His calls and texts would go unanswered until he got the hint that we were never going to be buddies.
From there, I’d spent an hour with Rocky, getting fitted for my new brace. I wasn’t cleared to lose the crutches completely, but the smaller brace allowed for more range-of-motion and longer periods of weight-bearing.
I also came away with the distinct impression that physical therapy wasn’t going to get any easier once I was out. I didn’t mind being pushed, but I’d come to rely on a certain red-haired beauty to distract me from the pain.
Which was why I was currently ambushing Ari on her way to class. The nurse, Tiffani, slowed her steps as I approached.
“Hey,” I leaned down, somewhat surprised to see her back in the wheelchair. She’d gotten to where she was walking, with help, almost everywhere she went.
The urge to touch her was overwhelming, but I resisted. People might be willing to overlook a conversation, but any show of affection was going to raise some red flags. “I missed you at lunch.”
Ari nodded slowly, staring blankly ahead toward the nurse’s station.
Something like panic sparked in my chest, but I quickly snuffed it out, refusing to read too much into the fact that she wasn’t smiling. She was probably pissed I’d broken the rules, and rightfully so, but I had news that couldn’t wait.
I’d smooth things over—maybe give her the bad news first and then move into the good stuff. She’d make an exception once she saw that I was bending the rules for a reason.
Probably.
“She didn’t feel up to eating,” Tiffani chimed in helpfully. “I think physical therapy just wore her out this morning, and she needed to rest.”
“Late night?” I teased, hoping for a blush or wink—something that indicated I wasn’t the only one hung up on our kiss.
Because it had been one hell of a kiss.
Her eyes remained flat as if she was going out of her way to avoid reacting to me. But that was ridiculous. Maybe, like me, she’d just struggled to fall asleep.
“I, uh, I don’t have anything going on, so I thought I might go with you to class. It’s speech, right?” When she nodded, I whispered, “Maybe after, we’ll get you some coffee. I’ve got some news.”
Ari nodded again. I brushed a few stray hairs off her face, noting the ashen tone of her skin. “Are you feeling okay?”
This time, there was no response, which didn’t exactly bolster my confidence. Either Ari was agitated that I hadn’t held up my end of our agreement, or she was regretting last night.
Dammit, I’d known it was too soon.
It was her first kiss—it was supposed to be special. The puppies were a nice touch, but if I’d known it was going to happen, I could have come prepared with candles and flowers.
Girls liked that romantic movie shit.
“Don’t take it personally,” Tiffani said. “She’s been a little quieter than normal. Usually, she’ll write or mouth words, but today I’ve gotten nothing out of her. I mean, it’s to be expected with as much as she’s doing. Sometimes, the brain just gets overstimulated. Ari, you want Killian to go to class with you, right?”
Yeah, her brain had just been overworked—by the Neanderthal standing beside her.
Ari blinked in response, her green eyes dull and unfocused. So, it wasn’t a ringing endorsement, but as she hadn
’t asked me to leave, I’d take what I could get.
Last night had been a little too much for her. As much as I wanted to make it better, I had to let her take the lead on this. And me—well, I’d wait patiently nearby, giving her the space to work through it.
That was me, a pillar of strength in my girl’s time of need.
Having made my decision, I let the two of them take the lead and followed a few paces behind. It wasn’t how I’d pictured spending my last day here, but I’d waited years for a girl like Ari. I could wait a little longer, give her time to see how good we could be together.
And if all else failed, I’d track down those therapy puppies.
The speech therapist met us as we crossed the sky bridge into the other wing, holding his palm up to Ari as if waiting for a high-five. “Hey, Ariana, who’d you bring today?”
When she made no move to introduce me, I extended a hand. “Killian.”
“Fynn,” he responded warmly before ushering us into his small office. “As you can probably tell, I’m a bit of a fan. I bet you get that a lot, though."
The side of my mouth lifted as I took in the Hurricanes memorabilia lining the wall. The man had just about everything—including a bobblehead of me resting on top of a filing cabinet. “I do, but it’s always nice to hear.”
He turned back to Tiffani. “Let’s get her out of the chair. Otherwise, I’m afraid we’ll be a bit overcrowded.”
It was almost comical they’d put him in such a small space—the guy was built like an NFL linebacker. Tiffani helped Ari into an empty chair before hesitating in the doorway. “If Killian doesn’t mind staying, I could just come back in an hour.”
I quickly agreed. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I was thinking of grabbing a coffee from the cafeteria after—maybe you could just meet us there?”
Through The Water: Fairest Series Book Two Page 19
