Out of Left Field (8 page)

What the hell was wrong with him? He’d lived a good, long damn time with his emotions in check and under control. Frankie strolled into his life and he turned into a freakin’ chick. He needed to find his mojo, and he was afraid getting his shoulder back in shape would be the only way to do it.

And that meant Frankie wasn’t going anywhere.

Perfect.

Freakin’ perfect.

7

Over the last week, Xavier had managed to keep from crying again. She’d worked his arm, doing pendulum exercises, until he’d laid his tongue to language capable of making a sailor blush. Sailors maybe, but not Frankie.

He’d gotten pretty good at eating with his left hand. Three yellow rectangles floated around his cereal bowl and he fished them out one by one. He heard her coming down the stairs and wondered how long she planned on staying.

“
Good morning.” She rounded the corner dressed in scrubs. Again. Did she even own a pair of jeans?

“
Mornin’.” He grunted, nodding his head.

Her face was freshly washed, her hair still damp in its tight ponytail. Tennis shoes dangled from her fingers, swaying with her walk. She plopped down into the chair next to him and dropped the shoes to the floor. The bright pink on her toes rivaled Bazooka bubblegum dotted with dainty white flowers. She bent her knee, resting her heel on the edge of her chair. Sliding the white footie sock onto her foot, she looked up at him.

“
Are you okay if I leave you alone for a little while?”

His laugh came out a bark. “How old do you think I am?”

She laughed. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right. I won’t be gone long, and you’ve got my cell and—”

“
Where you goin’?”

“
I have to go to my office and catch up on some paperwork.”

“
At the stadium?”

She raised a brow in a silent
Duh!

“
Can I come?”

Her other brow shot up and she shrugged. “Ah, sure. I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“
Why not?”

Another shrug.

He grinned, feeling like his old self for the first time since blowing out his shoulder. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his bowl before crossing the kitchen to put it in the sink. “Give me ten minutes to change my pants.”

Running up the stairs did wonders for his mood. The slight jostle of his shoulder ached a bit, but the brace held it tight against his torso, keeping it from moving too much. His legs thrived on the pumping of his muscles as his stride ate up two stairs at a time. His blood rushed through his veins and his lungs heaved with the breath racing through them. He missed this, missed working out. He could already feel himself going soft.

And God help him, he would never be soft again.

Quick change from pajama bottoms to nylon workout pants and he headed back downstairs. He’d need help with tying his shoes, and if it meant working out a bit, he’d accept Frankie’s help. Without argument. Just this once.

He sank onto the couch and started to tug on his socks. Holy shit, the phrase
easier said than done
had become his theme song. The elastic part of his white tube sock caught on his big toe. He tugged. It stretched, then popped off, flying through the air to land on the silk decorative tree standing sentinel next to his fireplace.

A few choice four-lettered words didn’t help the situation but sure as hell made him feel better. He picked up the other sock and tried again, tugging—carefully this time—inching, bunching the cotton up over his toes.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and he yanked on one side, then the other, going back and forth until the sock snapped for the final time over his calf.

The urge to jab his fist in the air and shout in victory nearly overwhelmed him. He was about to do just that when he realized he’d only accomplished half the mission. Deep sigh, a wipe of the brow, and Xavier stood.

After plucking the sock from its perch, he went back to the chair and plopped down. When did putting a damned pair of socks on rank right up there with running a marathon? Hell, an inside the park homerun around the bases never winded him like this pitifully simple task.

With a few quick breaths to psych himself up, he began the inch, scooch, bunch, and pull until the other sock snapped into place. He shoved one foot into his Nikes and was just about to do the same thing with the other one when Frankie strolled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

Her eyes widened. Her lips lifted at the corners. She nodded. Approval.

That urge to jab his fists toward the heavens and roar simmered just below the surface again. Instead of making a fool of himself, he thrust his other foot into his shoe and stood.

She dropped the towel on the coffee table and rounded the couch. She patted him on the chest. The light tap did wonders for his ego. “Would it be okay if I tied them for you?”

In that moment, he wanted to gather her in a hug and hold her tight against him. That she hadn’t mentioned his socks, although she had to’ve known it hadn’t been easy, made him like her even more. She didn’t give kudos, laugh or act like he was a child, needing her to tie them. She’d simply asked his … permission.

All he could do was nod. His throat tightened a bit and he coughed in an attempt to loosen it up.

She sank to her knees and he studied the top of her head. He’d never noticed the strands of auburn running through the honey blond. He wondered what her hair looked like when it wasn’t pulled back in a stupid rubber band. He realized how badly he wanted to reach around and free her hair. His fingers balled into fists to make them behave.

Ridiculous.

She thumped his foot and he looked down just as she looked up. Their gazes locked, mingling, hazel devouring blue, and Xavier couldn’t breathe. Time seemed to stop. Except she moved closer, in a moment her lips would be…

She blinked, and like sunlight hitting fog, the moment vanished.

“
Ready?” She turned and grabbed the dishtowel, disappearing into the kitchen. She returned in a flash, sans towel, her purse hanging from her arm,
his
keys dangling from her finger.

“
Sorry, big boy, but you can’t drive. I’ll be gentle with your car.” She laughed and headed off toward to garage.

Her nonchalance bugged him. Obviously their
moment
hadn’t been anything special to her. Perfect. He’d gotten all sappy over a woman. It’d been years since he’d made that mistake. He’d be damned if he’d allow her to break his heart.

And yet, like a lost puppy, he followed her.

***

This sucked.

When Frankie’d been surprised he’d wanted to go with her to the stadium, he wondered if she was smokin’ something to give her the munchies. Now, he got it.

Weights clanking pinged off the cement walls. He’d loved that sound. Once. Now, it depressed him. A deep misery settled in his gut and made him want to plow his fist into the wall or puke.

He should have just stayed home. He’d heard SpongeBob SquarePants was entertaining.

“
Lookin’ good, X!”

Xavier looked up from the pine bench where he’d been hiding out in the hallway into the smiling, way-too-damn-cheerful face of Pierce. He wanted to deck him. All his happy-happy-joy-joy only intensified the assburn. It was a good thing he liked the guy, but liking him didn’t stop Xavier’s scowl.

“
Yeah, I’m a real looker.”

Grayson laughed, plucked his hat off to run his fingers through his hair. He put the white and blue hat back on and repositioned the brim. “Seriously, man, it’s good to have you back in the gym.”

Xavier wagged his arm, the brace making it more of a clipped chicken wing. The bone-deep bitterness seeped into his laughter. “A lot of good it’s doin’ me.”

Pierce shook his head, laughing. “Don’t be such a baby about it.”

Fury, white hot and consuming, spread through him fast as a match strike. Every muscle tightened, readying itself for combat.

“
X. Xavier, dude, you okay?”

He blinked, shook his head and took a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“
You’re definitely not fine. I thought for a second you were gonna leap off that bench and tear me apart. Or try to. Maybe Frankie needs to lower the dosage on your meds.” Another hat removal, hand through hair move.

“
I’m fine.” He was such a frickin’ liar.

“
Look at you. You’re huffin’ and puffin’ like you’re ready to go toe-to-toe and blow my house down.”

“
I’m fine.”

Just then Frankie sauntered out of her office and down the hallway. She smiled at Grayson then winked at Xavier. His damned heart jumped.

“
How’s it going, Grayson?”

Although Pierce was happily married with three beautiful little girls, when he smiled at Frankie, Xavier wanted to deck him. Again. Hell, maybe his meds did need to be adjusted.

“
Good. Real good. Last night’s win was a tough one. But a win is a win. I’ll take it. How’s my boy?”

“
Stubborn.” Frankie’s adorable smile twinkled in her eyes. The two shared a chuckle, spiking Xavier’s annoyance.

“
Ha ha. You two are a riot a minute. Would you like some popcorn to eat while you stand there and mock me?”

“
I like popcorn.” Frankie pursed her lips, but her laugh burst through.

Xavier bit his lip, trying to stop it. Sank his teeth deep to keep it in. But damn him, he joined her. Chuckles melted into laughs dissolving into low belly bellows rumbling from his toes. His eyes watered, humor driven tears gathered in the corners. It wasn’t long before his abs ached. He crossed his good arm over himself and leaned over. It’d been a long time since he’d experienced honest-to-goodness amusement.

Grayson laughed along with them. Or maybe it was
at
them. “Whatever you’re giving him, Doc, it must be pretty damned good.”

“
Screw you, man.” Xavier emphasized the words with a single finger.

Grayson continued to laugh as he strode down the hallway and through the doorway leading into the gym.

As soon as Grayson disappeared, Frankie asked, “You okay?” in a low, still humored voice.

“
I’m freakin’ awesome.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her and she smiled. He forced a lip tilt. “It’s good to be back.”

“
Would you like to spend a little time on the bike?”

“
I thought—”

“
A few minutes would be okay, I think.”

He jumped off the bench, wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her against him. “Aw, Doc, I could kiss you!”

Her eyes bugged out of her head as her jaw fell open. Yep, he’d definitely misread their
moment
earlier. And by holding her close, he’d crossed all kinds of lines. Even worse, he kinda liked the way she felt pressed up against him, small and soft and, oh hell, she smelled sweet.

She stretched up on her tiptoes and turned her head, tilting her chin to present her cheek. He couldn’t fight the smile, and didn’t try too hard to keep his enjoyment to himself.

The meeting of lips to cheek was quick and over before it even started.

She eased out of his hold and smiled, patting his pectoral. “You can be quite charming when you’re not being an ass, you know that.”

“
Thanks for the compliment.”

She grinned. “Now would you like to ride the bike?”

“
Hell yeah.” He’d never wanted anything more.

Like a man possessed, he strode down the hall and rounded the corner. Six Flags had nothing on the sight before him. He had to remind himself spinning in a circle like some ridiculous parody of
The Sound of Music
was out of the question. He sensed Frankie loitering in the doorway, watching him closely. In slow, sure steps he crossed the gym and stood in front of the stationary bike. He paused, waiting for her to burst out in laughter, telling him she was just kidding. No laughing or mocking came though. He glanced over his shoulder and she nodded, her smile gentle and reassuring.

Sliding onto the seat, he placed his feet on the pedals, feeling calm for the first time since he’d walked into Frankie’s office forever-and-a-day ago, begging for her help.

The first full leg extension sent a shot of adrenaline through his bloodstream. The next, a shot of pain. It didn’t make sense. He’d barely moved his torso. Sending his left leg toward the floor didn’t bother him. His right nearly crippled him. He cursed.

Frankie rushed to his side. “Stop!”

He ground his teeth and ignored her. He could do this. He
would
do this, by damn. He hated feeling like an invalid.

“
Dammit, Matthias! Stop! Now!” She lowered herself into his line of vision just as it blurred. “I. Said. Stop!”

He did. Breath raced out of his lungs in staggered bursts. And he hated her. He needed to get away from her before he did something he’d regret later.

“
Let me look at your shoulder.”