Hearing Dr. Evans tell me I’d be out for six weeks made me want to fucking scream. But I didn’t scream when I was frustrated; I hit shit. And right now, with a broken fucking hand, I couldn’t hit anything.
A million thoughts raced through my head at once.
Why the fuck did I stick my hand out like that? No one in their right mind could catch a fast-ball being hit straight back at them. I must be mental. What if my hand doesn’t heal right? What if they find someone new to replace me? Six weeks is a long time to have your job up for grabs. What if I can’t throw again after this? I didn’t want to get hurt. I just want to play baseball. What if I can’t play anymore? I busted my ass to get where I am, I don’t want to lose it. I’m a ball player, that’s what I am. That’s who I am. What the hell will I do if I’m not playing baseball?
It was one thing when it was your choice to leave the only job in this world you could see yourself doing, but being forced to quit was another. The truth was that it was rarely ever your choice to leave.
I sucked in a breath, took one look at my beautiful wife, and hopped off the table. Grabbing her by the hand, I pulled her forcefully out of the locker room.
“Jesus, Jack, stop. That hurts.” She jerked her hand from my grip and I winced.
“Sorry, Kitten. I just want to get out of here.”
She looked at me with sympathy in her eyes and I almost fucking exploded. The last thing I needed right now was my wife looking at me with pity. “Don’t look at me like that,” I ordered.
“Like what?” She stopped walking and tilted her head at me questioningly.
“Like my life just ended and you want to make sure I’m going to be okay.”
She huffed out a breath before rolling her green eyes at me. “You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” I shouted, my voice echoing throughout the concrete tunnels.
“Of course I want to make sure you’re okay, Jack! Jesus. Excuse me for giving a shit about your mental state. But I never once thought that your life just ended.”
“You don’t get it,” I breathed out, my tone agitated. I was acting like a complete asshole in this moment and I fucking knew it. But I was pissed off. I was angry about putting my hand out like that … for letting it get hit … for letting it get broken.
“Oh, so now I don’t get it? You’re joking, right?” she snapped in response, her tone matching my own, before she turned around and walked away from me.
Fuck.
I needed to stop doing this to her; it wasn’t fair. Irritated with myself, I smacked the palm of my hand against my head before rushing to catch up to her. I reached for her arm with my good hand, desperately pulling for her to stop. “Kitten. I’m sorry. I’m mad at myself, not you.”
She nodded, her long blonde hair swinging with the motion, then let out a little sigh. “I know.” Then she locked her fingers with mine and pulled me toward the parking lot.
Once in the car with Matteo behind the wheel, I watched Cassie as she scrolled through her contacts, searching for my brother’s phone number. She must have already warned Matteo, because he hadn’t said two words to me and was avoiding all eye contact. My girl was good at this. I wished I hadn’t been such a dick earlier.
I reached my free hand across the seat and squeezed her thigh. She glanced at me, still a little wary of me, it seemed. “Thank you,” I whispered as she scrunched up her face in confusion.
“For what?” She scooted her body closer to mine to keep our conversation private.
“You know what.” I nodded my head in Matteo’s direction and she shrugged. I chose wisely when it came to picking a wife. She was the best thing I’d ever done. I needed to not fuck us up. Again.
She refocused her attention to her phone and I watched as Dean’s name popped up on her screen and she pressed SEND. The phone rang twice before my brother’s voice came from the speaker. “What’s up, Sis?”
Cassie turned off the speaker and sucked in a breath as she lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey, Dean. I just wanted to let you know before you saw it on SportsCenter or Baseball Tonight or something.” She paused briefly before continuing. “Jack broke his hand tonight.”
I could only imagine the questions my brother was shooting at her from the other end of the line. His voice was muffled since she’d taken him off speaker, so I couldn’t make out any of his words.
“He was pitching and the ball got hit straight back at him. He threw his hand up to stop it, or catch it, or something. But the ball crashed into it and he has multiple fractures.”
Cassie grew silent and I knew Dean was talking her ear off. I glanced in the rearview mirror and noticed Matteo paying attention to Cassie’s side of the conversation as well.
“Don’t think you’re getting a vacation or anything, buddy,” I called out in his direction.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responded without missing a beat.
“I still have to go to the field every day to work out and I’ll need a ride there and back,” I informed him with a smirk.
“I’ll have to check with my other clients.” He raised his eyebrows and looked at Cassie. “But tell me, do you still have to go to the games and stuff?”
I nodded. “Yep. I have to suit up for the home games and hang out in the dugout.”
“What about when they’re on the road?”
“I meet with a trainer at the field when the team’s gone.”
“So you won’t travel with them then?”
“Nope. Not for six weeks.” I sighed, suddenly feeling agitated.
Cassie sounded like she was wrapping things up. “Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow. Will you let Gran and Gramps know for us?” She paused. “Thank you so much. Yep, I’ll tell him. ‘Bye.”
She pressed END and turned toward me. “Dean says to take it easy and to not do anything stupid.”
“What the hell would I possibly do?”
“I have no idea. He’s your brother,” she teased and I grabbed at her.
“Oh yeah? Well, he’s your brother too,” I reminded her and a smile appeared across her face as she turned away from me. I leaned over and grazed my teeth against her earlobe, touching it with the tip of my tongue before whispering, “I love your smile. It’s sexy. Really fucking sexy. Don’t be mad at me. I really am sorry.”
Her face turned and I pressed my lips against hers before she could respond. Her lips parted slightly as she gave a little gasp that sent a message straight to my groin, so I sucked on her bottom lip lightly, then swept my tongue across it before sliding it into her mouth. The throbbing of my dick replaced the throbbing in my hand as I realized I had the cure to any broken bones right here in this car with me.
My hot-as-hell wife.
Matteo cleared his throat. “Uh. We’re here, horny teenagers.”
Cassie squeaked and I laughed as we pulled out of our kiss. “Thanks, cock-block.” I eyed him before opening the car door. “I’ll call you when I know my schedule for the next couple of weeks, okay?”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
We walked into our apartment building and straight onto the waiting elevator. The doors closed and I pinned Cassie against the wall.
“Jack, what are—”
“Be quiet,” I demanded before quieting her with my mouth. I nipped at her lips before exploring her neck. My unbroken hand followed the curves of her waist, down her hips, before cupping her ass. I squeezed, causing her to whimper, and my dick felt like it might explode right there. I needed to be in her. And I needed it now.
The ding of the elevator arriving on our floor interrupted the sexual assault I was launching on Cassie’s irresistible mouth. I moved to grab her with my broken hand and quickly switched arms. Reaching for her, I pulled a little too aggressively toward me and she yanked her hand from mine.
I didn’t apologize. Instead I fumbled with the keys, constantly reminding myself to do everything with the opposite hand. You never realize how much you take for granted until you’re forced to. My left hand had always been great, completely reliable, my go-to hand … until it broke and stopped working. Now I had to remember to perform even the most mundane of tasks with the hand that felt the most foreign to me.
Fighting off the frustration that seemed to be making itself at home, I needed to do something that made me feel like a man. Finally managing to get the front door open, I moved to grab Cassie, but she pressed her hands against my chest to stop me.
“Jack? Aren’t we going to talk about this?”
“Talk about what?”
“Your hand? What you’re thinking?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, Kitten. We’ll talk. After you give me what I want, I’ll give you what you want.”
I needed to fuck my wife. I needed to own her, take her, show her I was still the man in this relationship, even if I wasn’t the man on the field. Her eyes narrowed as her lips twisted into a snarl. My girl was itching for a fight, and I wanted to suck that expression right off her face.
“That’s not how it works, jackass,” she snapped, and I immediately puffed out my chest.
“Don’t play tough with me. You know you want some of this.” I ran my hand down the length of my body and she chuckled. “So now my body’s funny to you? I’ll show you funny.”
I stormed into the living room before stopping at one of the many mason jars filled with quarters around our house. Remembering the quarters I’d saved for our first date after Cassie told me it cost me fifty cents every time I touched her, I smiled to myself. She had tried to be so sassy, but I saw her defenses weaken when I poured the bag of quarters all over the table at the diner where we were having dinner. Holding two coins between my unbroken fingers, I walked back to where Cassie stood. She hadn’t moved. Not a muscle. She wanted this as much as I did, no matter how much she pretended she didn’t.
“Open your hands.” She eyed me, but refused to move. “I said, open your hands, Kitten.”
She slowly cupped her hands in front of her body, and I dropped the fifty cents into her palms.
“Now, get in the bedroom.”