Playing Hard

by Melanie Scott

  “No one thinks you lost the series,” she said. She was really worried now. He wasn’t entirely making sense.

  “Yes they do. And they all take his side. Even you.”

  “I’m not taking sides,” she said. “I’m still here for you.”

  He shook his head. “No. You aren’t. If you were on my side you wouldn’t be with him.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “Finn, it’s not a case of either or. I love you and your family. You know that. But that has nothing to do with me and Oliver.”

  “My family,” he said. “My family. Dad couldn’t even fucking look at me on Monday night.”

  “I’m sure he was just worried that you were upset,” Amelia said. “He’s so proud of you, Finn. I was with him while he watched that game. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  Finn’s face twisted. “Until I fucked up.”

  “You didn’t fuck up. The Red Sox just played better that night. There will be other seasons.”

  “You don’t understand what it’s like,” he said. “You don’t care about me, either. You just want to fuck Shields.”

  She tried not to wince at the vicious tone. “That’s not true. Look, why don’t you come with me? We’ll find you some coffee. Some food. You’re upset about losing. I get that. Let me help you.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head vehemently. He shook off her grip, using all the considerable strength in his hand to shove her away. She stumbled back, only keeping her balance with difficulty. “No. You know what, Milly? I don’t need you to take care of me. I have a family. Even if they think I’m a screwup. And you’ve muscled in on my family for long enough. So go. Go to Shields if he’s the one you want. Just don’t come crying to me when he fucks off like your dad did. You can find another fucking family to use when that happens. Until then, stay the fuck out of my life. You’re not my fucking sister. So just leave me the hell alone.”

  He pushed past her and she stumbled back. By the time she’d caught her balance, Finn was gone and she was left standing there, unable to breathe. Feeling as though he’d slapped her.

  Not his sister. Not his family. God. He sounded like he hated her. She felt sick. She was going to throw up. She looked around the room. Couldn’t see anyone she knew. Couldn’t see Oliver. Which might be just as well. He’d start something with Finn if he knew what had just happened.

  God. Her eyes were stinging and suddenly all she could think was that she had to get out of the room before she started to cry.

  * * *

  “Amelia.”

  It wasn’t Oliver’s voice. Or Finn’s. Not that she imagined for a second that Finn might be coming after her to apologize. He’d made his feelings about her pretty clear.

  No, it was Maggie’s voice. Maggie’s whose house she was currently blundering through, no idea where she was going, just wanting somewhere to hide until she could make the sick feeling of hurt in her stomach vanish. Maggie who had been nothing but kind to her. So she stopped, waited. Blinked hard to stop the stinging in her eyes.

  Maggie caught up to her, concern clear in her brown eyes. “Everything okay?”

  Amelia gulped. Tried to talk through the acid burn in her throat. “Yes.”

  “Is that a big fat lie?’”

  “Yes.” She blinked again.

  “Thought so. Come with me.” Maggie tucked her arm through Amelia’s, steered her a little farther down the hallway, and then opened a door. “Losses are never easy.”

  They stepped into a room that looked like a cross between a tiny living room and an office. There was a small carved oak desk tucked into the corner. A sleek silver laptop and a basket half full of paper sat on its gleaming surface. As did several scattered paperbacks. There was another bookcase holding books and files next to the desk and then a matching cupboard whose doors hid its contents on the other side. The rest of the room was filled up with three fat overstuffed armchairs in shades of blue velvet that cozied around a small coffee table. A small flat-screen hung on the opposite wall.

  “Sit,” Maggie said, pushing Amelia gently toward the nearest of the chairs before going over to the cupboard. She came back with two glasses, a bottle of scotch, and the biggest bar of Godiva chocolate Amelia had ever seen. “Which do you want? Booze or sugar?”

  Amelia laughed, caught off guard. But she definitely didn’t want booze. She could still smell the waft of alcohol Finn had breathed on her when he’d said those things. “Will you think badly of me if I chose the candy?”

  “Sweetie, as long as you don’t make me drink tequila with you, I will not judge.” Maggie shuddered theatrically. “I hate tequila.” She handed Amelia the chocolate, sat, and then kicked off her shoes with a relieved sigh.

  “Deal. And I won’t mention that I make killer margaritas.”

  Maggie looked mournful. “Margaritas sound tasty. But my loathing of tequila is the result of self-inflicted idiocy in high school. So I wouldn’t know. I won’t hold it against you that you aren’t as dumb as me.” She frowned. “Matter of fact, that particular incident was Ollie’s fault.” Dark-brown eyes met Amelia’s. “Is it weird if I talk about Oliver? About when we were dating?”

  Amelia shook her head. She’d spent too much time watching Maggie and Alex together over the last two weeks to have any doubts that the two of them were madly in love. “No.”

  “He and I were a long time ago.”

  “I know.” Amelia tore open the chocolate. “It’s really okay.”

  Maggie looked relieved. “Good. So do you want to tell me what upset you back there? I don’t like it when people get upset at my parties. It’s against the Maggie, Sara, and Raina rules of fun.”

  “There are rules?”

  “Definitely. Raina has views about what constitutes a good time, and I was hosting Saints parties for my dad when I was sixteen. But we were talking about you.”

  Amelia took a breath, broke off a piece of chocolate. She wasn’t sure she could eat it, any more than she could have stomached alcohol. Finn’s anger had shocked her. But Maggie was as good a person as any to talk to about it. It wasn’t as if Amelia was ever going to tell Em. That was a guaranteed lose–lose conversation. And Maggie understood baseball players. She might have some good advice.

  “I—” She stopped. Put the chocolate down. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how to do you survive all this—the pressure and the parties and—”

  “The circus?” Maggie said. “It’s overwhelming sometimes. But I grew up with it. So I guess I don’t really notice how daunting it is most of the time. Raina or Sara might be able to shed some light. Is that what this is? You’re not sure about taking all this on if you take on Oliver for good?”

  Amelia froze. “For good?”

  “Yeah. Never a good poker player, our Ollie. He can’t take his eyes off you. He’s seriously smitten.” The Don’t break my friend’s heart was unspoken but clear in Maggie’s tone.

  Smitten? Maggie thought Oliver was smitten? She was just going to let that one go through to the catcher for now. “I’m not upset with Oliver. I must admit all this is daunting but it’s not that.” No. Oliver was another problem.

  “Then what? Finn? He’s taking Monday pretty hard?”

  Amelia nodded. “Yeah. Finn.” She wasn’t going to tell Maggie exactly what he’d said to her. But she knew the fact that he’d said it, that he’d been so vicious, wasn’t a good sign. He obviously wasn’t handling the loss well. “I’m just not sure all of this is good for him.”

  Maggie looked sympathetic. “I hate to tell you this, but the only one who can really make that call is Finn. I’ve seen a lot of players come and go over the years. Watched them learn to cope with it all. They’re all different, of course, but there are a few … well, call them categories … that they tend to fall into.”

  “Which are?”

  “Well, there are the ones who reach the majors and settle right in. Who seem to manage to keep it about the game and don’t let their heads get tur
ned by the crazy and the circus.”

  “I’m not sure that’s Finn.”

  “No,” Maggie agreed. “Maybe not. Then there are the guys who arrive and try to cope with the pressure by jumping into the circus with both feet. The ones who blow off steam with parties and girls and soaking up the fame.”

  “What happens to them?”

  “Either they get tired of that or learn that it affects their game badly and get their heads straight and settle down to the job of it or—”

  “Or?” Her stomach twisted again.

  “Or they blow it. Sometimes not badly enough that they can’t win themselves a second chance. But sometimes completely. And then some of them just quit. Decide that the love of the game isn’t worth the crap that comes with professional baseball. Or that they can’t handle the crap.”

  “Do you think Finn is going to blow it?”

  Maggie frowned. “Honestly?”

  Amelia nodded. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t settled, that’s for sure. Even after we bought him cheap because the Cubs had decided he was difficult. He should be focused on behaving himself. But he played very well until Monday. I don’t think Dan or the guys are ready to give up on him yet.”

  Amelia didn’t want to imagine what might happen if the Saints actually ditched Finn. “I—”

  Maggie held up a hand. “I know you love him. That he’s kind of family to you, but the other thing I’ve learned is that adjusting to this is something they have to do on their own. I’ve seen wives and girlfriends and families break their hearts trying to help. The only one who can get his head screwed on straight and decide if he really wants this is Finn. So, if you want my advice, give him space. Let him figure it out. He needs to stand or fall on his own. And he needs not to have easy targets to take his frustration out on while he does it.”

  “That’s pretty blunt.”

  “You asked. You had a fight, right? Earlier? That’s what upset you?” Maggie sighed. “I’d say try not to take it personally but that’s crap. He’s not a boy. He’s a man. He needs to learn to act like one on his own. Like I said. Stand or fall. And sometimes a fall is what it takes. So if I were you, I’d focus on the guy with his head on straight.”

  “Oliver?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Not sure how straight his head is, either. I know this hand thing is killing him, but he won’t talk about it.”

  “They don’t like talking about injuries.” Maggie grimaced. “About what might happen if they don’t come back. That’s the other side of the coin. The ones who get their heads on straight, well, sometimes they have trouble on the other end. With what happens when the circus finally leaves town one day.”

  That made her shiver. “I asked him about that. Asked him what he might do after baseball.”

  “What did he say?” Maggie leaned forward, curiosity lighting her eyes.

  Amelia shrugged. “Not much.”

  That drew a sigh from Maggie. A big one. “It’s always been baseball for Oliver. Dad drafted him straight out of high school. Sometimes I wonder if that was the right thing to do. He was so young. Maybe if he’d gone to college, he’d know what might come next.”

  “He didn’t want to go?”

  “Dad offered. Said the Saints would even pay, if he wanted to wait and do that first. But Ollie said no.”

  “And he settled right in.”

  Maggie grinned. “Pretty much. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying he hasn’t had his party moments. But he’s always had his eyes on the prize. Which for him has been baseball. And for some reason, the Saints. He could have moved to a better team. He’s good enough. But he stayed. That’s Oliver. Goes after what he wants with one hundred percent effort. Which is why it makes me happy to see him focused on you. About time he set his sights on someone worthy.”

  “Worthy?”

  “Someone interesting. Someone who doesn’t just want to sleep with a baseball player or date a rich guy.”

  “I’m not that interesting.”

  “He seems pretty interested. And you don’t strike me as the out-to-land-a-rich-guy-for-his-money type. Otherwise you probably could have married one of those Wall Street money guys already and be a lady of leisure.”

  Amelia screwed up her nose. “Sounds hideous.”

  Maggie laughed. “Good answer. I think you’re good for him. Particularly right now.”

  “I asked him about that, too,” Amelia admitted. “About whether or not I was just a distraction because he’d injured his hand.”

  “Well, he was pretty cranky the night of the party at Raina’s after you went home,” Maggie said. “I didn’t know why at the time but now I’m making a guess that not catching you first try might have something to do with that. That was before the accident. So he was already smitten before he got hurt. So, tell you what. You focus on Oliver. I think he might just surprise you.” She smiled and shook her head before stretching out her legs and wriggling her toes. “Okay. I am going to go back out there and find some people to deal with Finn. Do you want me to send Oliver here or do you want to come back with me?”

  Amelia hesitated.

  “It’s okay. I’m going to send Finn home before he does anything else stupid. You don’t have to deal with him.”

  “Is it all right if I sit here a bit longer?”

  “Sure,” Maggie said. She bent and picked up one of her shoes. It was a wicked-looking black stiletto with heels that had to be four inches high. “Someday I’m going to learn that pretty doesn’t equal comfortable when it comes to shoes.” She flashed Amelia a grin as she pulled on the shoe, then its mate. “But hey, sometimes pretty is worth a little trouble, right?”

  “Right,” Amelia agreed, thinking of Oliver. He was definitely pretty. And definitely worth it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Ollie,” Maggie said, appearing at his elbow.

  He broke off his conversation with Hector Moreno, the Saints catcher. “Maggie J,” he said. “Something I can do for you?” He half expected to see Amelia at her side. She’d been gone a long time. He’d just been about to make his excuses to Hector and go see if she was okay, Finn or no Finn.

  “Seen Amelia lately?” Maggie said.

  Something in her voice told him it wasn’t a casual question. His instinct went on alert, gut tightening. “No. Is something wrong?” He let her tug him away from Hector.

  When they had a little bit of space, Maggie said, “She and Finn had an argument. She’s a bit shaken up.”

  “Fucking Castro.” The words escaped him before he realized what he was saying. He lifted his head, searched the room. Maggie’s fingers dug into his arm.

  “No. You are not going to find Finn and punch him. I’ve already got Mal dealing with him. He’ll be taken home.”

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t kill anyone in the process,” Oliver snarled.

  “He won’t. But you need to forget about Finn and go look after Amelia. She’s in my office.”

  “Thanks.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You’re good people, Maggie J.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t try to charm me. Go charm Amelia. She’s good people, too. Don’t screw this one up, Ollie.”

  “Doing my best not to,” he said and left.

  He found Amelia, as Maggie had said, curled up on one of the velvet chairs in Maggie’s office. She was licking melted chocolate off her fingers. Which made heat curl through his gut, pushing aside some of the urge to find Finn and pound him until he apologized. But only some. He and Castro were going to have a come-to-Jesus moment about how Finn would be treating Amelia in the future.

  “Hey,” he said.

  She looked up, the surprise in her eyes melting into pleasure when she realized who it was. He’d do a lot of things to make sure she always looked at him like that. He went to the chair. Went to his knees beside her. “You okay?” he asked. “Maggie told me Finn did a number on you.”

  The pleasure in her eyes faded.
“Yeah. But I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.” She put a hand on his cheek. Leaned in and kissed him softly.

  Chocolate and the taste of Amelia filled his mouth. Filled all of his senses. He let himself ride the sweetness of the sensation for a minute, letting her take the lead with the kiss. Whatever she needed.

  Whatever comfort he could offer. Whatever strength he could lend.

  He wanted to give it.

  Awareness tumbled through him like a shower of sparks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this about a woman. Or if he’d ever felt like this about anyone. Not even Maggie.

  This sense of rightness. Of home.

  Amelia pulled back. “Thanks,” she said. “I needed that. Now can we go back to the party?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. Then leaned in and kissed him again. “All good now you’re here.”

  He couldn’t help the goofy grin that filled his face. “Whatever you want,” he said and let her lead him back to the party.

  There was no sign of Finn, and after Ollie found Maggie’s face in the crowd and she shot him a discreet thumbs-up, he relaxed and tried to shake off his lingering anger. Finn was not going to be an issue for the rest of the night, so he was going to forget about him and have fun with Amelia.

  Who apparently had suddenly decided that she was in a party mood.

  She demanded a margarita, which he procured for her. She downed it in a few gulps, asked for another.

  He shrugged and went back to the bar.

  She didn’t drink the second one so fast. Instead, she sipped it, arm slipped through his, leaning into him, as Sara came over to them and started chatting. The music, which had been fairly soft until now, suddenly kicked up a few volume notches, the beat changing to something fast and sexy.

  He didn’t have to look to know that Raina would be clearing a space to form an impromptu dance floor. Or probably not so impromptu. Raina and Maggie and Sara ran Saints parties with military-style planning. Apparently they’d decided that what the party needed right now were some serious dance moves.