Delay of Game (The Baltimore Banners Book 6) (16 page)

"We need to finish up or we're going to be late."

"Hm?" Justin blinked, pulled his gaze away from her breasts, away from the rosy tips of her nipples. Val laughed then reached behind her and shut off the water.

"Your doctor's appointment. We're going to be late."

"Oh. Right." He nodded, trying to act like he hadn't forgotten. Val laughed again then pulled back the shower curtain, leaning out to grab two towels. She handed him one and used the other to dry herself. Then she stepped out of the shower and bent over, wrapping the towel around her hair before straightening.

"Did you need help?"

"Huh? Oh. No, I got it." Justin yanked his gaze away and rubbed the towel over him, blotting at the drops of water. Val laughed again then took it from him, doing a more thorough job of drying him off.

And making him wonder if maybe he could get away with rescheduling the appointment and convincing Val he needed another shower.

The phone rang again, the noise too loud in the heavy silence. Too annoying. Too insistent.

Justin glanced at the screen in case it wasn't the same number calling then silenced the phone and tossed it on the bed beside him. He closed his eyes and squeezed his left fist, wincing at the pain. Ignoring it. Squeezing again. Once, twice. One more time.

Just that little bit of movement caused a sheen of sweat to break out on his forehead. He took a deep breath, relaxed his arm, then opened his eyes. The ceiling fan whirred overhead, the blades spinning round and round. Hypnotic. Mesmerizing.

Or maybe that was just because of the pain medication. He'd taken two pills a little more than an hour ago and was only now beginning to feel the effects. He thought about getting up and walking out to the kitchen to get two more.

Thought about, but didn't move.

It would be too easy, just pop one or two more. Wait for oblivion to crash over him, pull him under. To momentarily erase all the shit coming at him right now.

The busted arm.

The long months of rehab ahead of him.

The Banners' abysmal losses of the last two games.

The fact that he might not be back next season, at least not until after it started. Too late. Too damn late.

And now the phone calls. One after another, at least twice an hour for the past three hours.

Yeah, it would be so easy to just go pop a few more pills and let it all disappear. At least for a few hours.

But he didn't. He wouldn't, if only for Val. Justin didn't want her coming home and seeing him completely out of it like some mindless zombie. Didn't want her worrying more than she already was about leaving him alone.

Guilt swept over him again, sharp and biting. Val shouldn't have to be taking care of him, shouldn't have to be worrying about him. She had enough responsibility, running her own place, spending her time between the restaurant and taking care of him. He knew it was getting to her, wearing her down. He could see it in the smudges under her eyes, in the shadows that crept into her gaze when she didn't think he was looking.

No, she didn't need more of his shit on top of everything else. Though why she was putting up with him, why she cared, he had no idea.

So yeah, as tempting as it might be to disappear into oblivion for at least a little bit, he wasn't going to. Val deserved better.

He thought again about his earlier idea, the one borne from a medicated stupor. The one where he whisked Val away. He'd surprise her, just take her to the airport without telling her where they were going. He wouldn't even let her pack. Hell, it wasn't like he couldn't afford to buy whatever they needed once they got there.

He closed his eyes and smiled as he pictured it. White sand and crystal blue water. Warm tropical breezes and exotic rum drinks. Val, dressed in a bikini, stretched out under the golden sun as he rubbed sunscreen over her. Her wide hazel eyes looking up at him, her full mouth tilted in a smile as she leaned toward him—

Justin groaned and shook his head. It was a great fantasy. Too bad it was just that: a fantasy. He didn't think Val was the kind of person who would appreciate being whisked away, not when she had so much responsibility. She wasn't the kind of person who'd be able to just shirk everything for a week. With a little notice, maybe. But spur of the moment? No, he didn't think she'd appreciate it.

Not to mention that the idea of lounging on a beach with a cast didn't hold much appeal for him. Knowing his luck, he'd spend the entire time trying to get sand out of it. Exactly what he didn't need, not with the tear in his skin from the incisions and from where the bone broke through still healing.

Justin rolled to his right side, curling his good arm under his head and propping the broken one on two pillows. The throbbing from earlier was nearly gone now, nothing more than a hazy memory. If he was smart, he'd ice it down using the contraption they'd sent him home with. A small cooler was filled with ice and water, which then ran through a hose and connected to a pad that wrapped around his arm. It beat the hell out of old-fashioned ice packs.

Yeah, he should have thought of that before taking the medicine and lying down, because he didn't have the energy to move right now. In a little bit, after he took a small nap.

His eyes drifted shut, calling the grayness to him. Just a little more, a little closer, and he could disappear for just a little while. Go into the grayness where worries and doubt no longer existed.

Justin felt himself drifting, moving closer and closer to escape, welcoming it. And then his phone rang, the noise a loud screech, startling him, jerking him back from the ledge.

He groaned and reached for it, stretching with his good arm until his hand closed around it. Justin looked at the screen, anger and apprehension filling him when the familiar number popped up. Again.

He silenced the ring one more time, his hand tightening around the phone, squeezing. It would be so easy to just throw it. Hurl it across the room or against the floor, anything to break it. But then nobody else would be able to call. More importantly, he'd have no way to call Val. So he just clasped it in his hand, holding it close to his head, and closed his eyes.

Deep breaths, over and over, calming himself. Reminding himself not to get sucked into the drama. To put it behind him, not give it any power over him.

The phone beeped again, a short electronic tone. Not a phone call, but a voice mail. Justin opened his eyes and stared at the notification on the screen, telling himself he didn't have to answer it, didn't have to listen to it. It would be just as easy to hit delete as it would be to hit play.

His thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating.

Delete. Just hit delete.

Knots twisted his gut, growing, settling with the weight of a boulder inside him. Justin muttered a curse as his thumb stabbed at the play button, calling himself every kind of fool when he did.

The voice boomed from the phone's speaker, too loud, too rough. A laugh, rusty and forced, too harsh.

"That's my boy, fucking up again. Can't even bother to call and let your family know what happened, can you?" A harsh breath, a cough. "Course, not sure why I expect anything different. Since you're not playing, there's no need for you not to come home. I expect to see you next week."

Justin played the message again, sweat breaking out on his forehead as he listened to the gravelly voice. He shouldn't have answered. Shouldn't have listened to the message.

Shouldn't have expected anything different.

Anger bubbled inside him, swift but still expected. What wasn't expected was where the anger was directed. Not at himself. Not this time, not like all the years in the past. No, this time, it was directed at the voice coming through the phone.

At his father.

Justin yelled, the sound ripped from deep inside him, echoing in the silent room. He hurled the phone, watching as it flew through the air and hit the wall. The phone crashed to the floor then bounced across the carpet, pieces of it scattering nearby.

Damn it. Damn him. Damn everything he'd had to put up with growing up.

Justin stared at the phone, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath for several long minutes. The anger left as swiftly as it came, leaving him drained and hollow. He fell back against the mattress and draped his arm over his eyes, shutting out the light, shutting out everything as he struggled to disappear into the misty darkness.

The knock didn't surprise her. In fact, the only thing that surprised Val was how long it took for the knock to come. She had been expecting it for the last two hours, from the moment she'd shown up at the restaurant and made a beeline straight for the office.

Hanging in the office wasn't like her. Yes, she did the reports. Ran payroll. Invoicing and orders and bills. A never-ending flood of paperwork and reports, one she prided herself on staying ahead of, probably fanatically so. Just one advantage of being a control freak.

Except for the last two and a half weeks, ever since Justin's accident. Val had been home more than she'd been here, helping Justin, keeping him company. Worrying about him.

And yes, even working on things from home, even though Jodi had been keeping up with everything here with no problem. Just one disadvantage of being a control freak, she figured. Control freak, that was her. About everything.

Which was probably why she was starting to get an antsy feeling in her gut when Justin failed to answer his phone. For the third time. Because she really was a control freak? Or because she was worried about something else?

The knock came again and Val looked away from the computer with a sigh. Not like she was doing much more than staring into space anyway. She pulled off her glasses and tossed them on the desk, then called out. Alyssa walked in, her blonde hair pulled back, her face flushed, no doubt from the heat in the kitchen.

She closed the door, her whiskey-colored eyes resting on Val for a long second, then lowered herself to the chair with a sigh. A twinge of guilt—and excitement—flashed through Val, along with the memory of what she and Justin had done in that chair. She looked away, willing her face not to heat, and leaned back in her own chair.

"You didn't have to come in today."

The words didn't come as a surprise, not after the glances thrown her way when she first got here. But Alyssa, of all people, would understand. Working is what Val did, it was all she knew. Being gone too long, not being around all this, made her antsy, restless. Like she was missing something, like she was shirking her responsibility

Which didn't even come close to explaining why she was back here, hiding in the office, instead of out on the floor.

"Yeah, I know. But I had things to do." Val looked away, chewing on her lower lip, then turned back to Alyssa. "And I guess I maybe needed to get out of the house for a little bit."

She didn't miss the frown on Alyssa's face, or the flash of concern in her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything's good." Val nodded, but she wasn't sure if it was for Alyssa—or herself. "Of course everything's okay. It's just, you know, I'm not used to being home. You know that."

Alyssa didn't say anything, just watched Val with a gaze so steady that Val actually shifted in the chair. She reached out for her glasses and fiddled with the ear pieces, opening and closing them. Open, close, open, close.

"You're not going to be happy until you break them, are you?"

Val stopped fidgeting with the glasses and tossed them back on the desk. She tried to give Alyssa a smile, just a small one, as if to say she knew she had been caught. Alyssa kept watching her, not smiling back.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"Why do you think anything's going on?"

"Gee, I don't know. Because you're sitting over there, looking everywhere except at me. Because you're distracted. Because your foot is bouncing a mile a minute."

Val planted her foot solidly against the floor, tempted to deny it. She finally sighed, propping both elbows on the desk and resting her chin in the palms of her hand. "Nothing's really wrong. It's just…I don't know. Something. I think."

"You think? Is it Justin? Is he doing alright?"

"Yeah. I mean, considering. He's banged his arm a few times, trying to do something he shouldn't be doing, and then he gets frustrated. But I guess I'd probably be the same way, so I can't really say anything about that."

"What about everything else?"

"Everything else?"

"You know." Alyssa shifted in the chair, not quite meeting her gaze. "Any drinking or anything?"

Val didn't bother to hide her irritation. "No, he's not drinking. Why is everyone so convinced he's going to turn into some pathetic drunk?"

"Everyone who?"

"First Randy. Then Mat said something when he brought Justin's stuff over. And now you. It's getting really old."

"Val, I didn't mean it that way. I doubt if Randy did, either. It's just—"

"I know what it is. And no. Justin isn't drinking. He's barely even taking any pain medication." Val sat back and crossed her arms in front of her, anger and irritation burning in her chest. And maybe a little guilt, as well.

Because hadn't she been worried about the same thing? Hadn't she worried that dealing with his broken arm might be too much? That learning he probably wouldn't be back at the start of next season might push him over some unseen line?

So maybe she did have some guilt. But that was her own problem, something she'd have to get over. And that wasn't what was bothering her, not why she was so distracted. Yes, she was worried about him, worried that he wasn't answering the phone, worried that he hadn't returned her phone calls yet.

Val glanced at her cell phone, sitting silent on the desk next to her elbow. She wanted to call him again but she didn't, not wanting to hear his phone go straight to voicemail.

Should she be worried? She tried to tell herself no. Justin was probably sleeping. Or maybe he forgot to charge his phone. Or accidentally silenced it. Something. Just because he wasn't answering it didn't mean something was wrong.

"So then what is it?"

"Hm?" Val pulled her gaze away from the phone and back to Alyssa, her friend's words not registering right away.

"So then what is it? What's bothering you? Why are you so distracted and out of it?"

Val wanted to deny it, to pretend nothing was bothering her, that everything was fine. Except it was Alyssa sitting across from her, asking the questions. Her best friend, one she'd known for more than half her life. Alyssa knew her better than anyone. Lying to Alyssa would be like lying to herself.

"I'm not. Well, not really. I mean, not like you think."

Alyssa raised her arms and waved them around, rolling her eyes at the same time. "Well that just clears things up so nicely. Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?"

"Nothing is going on, really."

"So everything is fine with Justin? With the two of you?"

"Yeah." Val looked down, ran a finger along the edge of the desk. Shrugged. "I guess."

"You guess?" Alyssa blew out a deep breath and leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. "Val, what is going on?"

"Nothing. It's just—" Val paused, glanced at Alyssa, then leaned back in her chair and stared at the wall. How could she explain what was going on, when she wasn't even sure herself? It wasn't anything concrete or tangible, nothing she could really explain with ease. It was just…a feeling. Not a bad one, just one that was there. One that maybe had her worried, just a little bit. On a personal level. Maybe.

She sighed and looked up at Alyssa, not surprised to see confusion marring her friend's smooth face. Val looked down at her hands, noticed a small piece of jagged skin next to her thumbnail, and started picking at it.

"Val! Out with it!"

"Okay, fine." Val folded her hands in her lap then took a deep breath. "Was it…when you and Randy started living together, was it weird for you at first? I mean, after being on your own for so long."

Alyssa's frown cleared, only to come back a second later. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again but only to take a deep breath. The she exhaled and raised both brows at Val. "Is that what this is about? You're worried because Justin is staying with you? Val, it's not the same. He's just staying with you, not moving in. I know you're used to having your own space. I'm sure he'll be back to his place in no time."

"I know. It's just…Alyssa, what if I kind of maybe like him staying at my place?"

There. She said it, got it out there. And now that she'd said it, she wasn't sure why she was having such a hard time putting it into words. Although from the look on Alyssa's face, maybe she hadn't done as good a job as she thought.

"So, you're saying what, exactly? That you want Justin to move in with you? Or something else?" Alyssa's gaze didn't waver from Val's face, watching without giving any thoughts away. Searching. Val wondered what she saw, if she was able to see anything at all.

And if she did, would Alyssa share it with her?

Val shrugged and went back to picking at her nail, searching for the words to answer. But how could she answer, when she wasn't even sure what the question was? Or maybe she did know what the answer was but just didn't want to admit it. Or maybe—

"Val!"

She jumped, startled, and ended up banging her wrist on the edge of the desk. Val winced then shook it, shooting Alyssa a dirty look for scaring her.

Alyssa laughed. "Oh yeah, you really do have it bad."

"Have what bad?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you. So, you never really did say. How's Justin doing? His arm, I mean?"

"I told you, he's doing fine. All things considered, I mean." Val glanced back at her phone, the screen still blank. "I'd feel better if he answered when I called, though."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, of course not." Val wasn't about to tell her she just felt better when she talked to Justin. That the last few weeks, spending so much time with him, had become her new normal. That being away from him made her feel empty inside, like something was missing.

Alyssa laughed again, making Val wonder if her friend really was seeing too much. "Val, if you're so worried, just go home. Everything's under control, you don't need to be here."

"Yeah, I do. This is my business, too. I'm just as responsible for it as you, Jodi, and Renee. It's not fair to dump everything on you guys."

"You're not dumping anything. We're partners, remember? Part of that means covering for each other. Besides, you're so distracted, you're not really doing anything anyway."

Val wanted to deny it but she couldn't. Alyssa was right. She might be here physically, but her mind was back home with Justin. She sighed, glanced at the computer screen, then back at Alyssa. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Alyssa stood and motioned for Val to do the same. "Go home. Take care of Justin. Go play house."

"Play house? Really?"

"Hey, you're the one who said you liked having him there. Maybe this can be a trial run before you make any real decisions."

Val almost laughed, except it wasn't funny. Real decisions? There weren't supposed to be any decisions needed. She and Justin were only dating. Nothing else. Certainly nothing more. Weren't they?

She grabbed her bag and turned off the computer, frowning. She could try to convince herself of that all she wanted, but she'd only be lying to herself. No, she didn't know what to call what they were doing, but it was more than dating. But how much more?

And how much more did she want it to be?