Chapter Nineteen
I spent most of Sunday morning finishing up the stupid history assignment and thinking about anything other than the steroids and what it would mean if Mallory found out. At least the paper gave me something to focus on. By two in the afternoon, it was a solid B paper in any other class. That meant it’d net me a low C in Monroe’s. I stood to stretch my muscles, my knee cracking as I bent the stiffness out of it. It felt like the bones were grinding against one another. While it wasn’t painful, it wasn’t exactly pleasant, either. I opened the drawer for ibuprofen and the supplements Seth had given me, popping two of each.
Grabbing my phone from my desk, I texted Mallory.
Paper’s done. Do you want me to email it to you?
Less than a minute later, my phone vibrated.
No. Let’s go over it together. I’m working until six. Come over around six-thirty? We can order Chinese.
Me: A girl after my own heart.
Mallory: If all it takes is Moo Goo Gai Pan, you’re pretty easy.
Me: Kung Pao Chicken.
Mallory: LOL. I’ll order that, too.
See you then.
My smile grew as I thumbed in each letter. It would’ve been easier to email it to her, but she wanted me to come over. Maybe things weren’t as circular as I thought.
I stared at my disaster of a room. It wasn’t just a mess, it was a disorganized mess. That wasn’t going to cut it anymore. For the next hour, I cleaned and put everything in its place. Even things that never really had a place found a place. The energy surging through me was an adrenaline high. I had to keep moving. Glancing at the clock, I knew hardly anybody else was back on campus yet. Well, except the freshmen, and they didn’t count.
Heading to the gym was my best option. I’d just have to take it slow on my legs. My workouts were closely monitored. I had to take it easy, rebuild strength in my knee. I wasn’t even supposed to run on the treadmill until after the first of the year. Not that I’d followed that directive. I put on my Westland baseball T-shirt and cutoff sweats, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door.
The weight room and gym weren’t far from my dorm, so I didn’t think twice about wearing workout clothes. The cold November air bit at my bare skin but didn’t really penetrate. I didn’t feel anything but the need to move. The treadmills called my name. I dropped my bag and climbed onto the machine, setting it at a casual walk. But it wasn’t enough. Before I’d gone a half a mile, I turned up the speed until I jogged. My knee groaned under the pressure, but it didn’t break. I felt strong again, stronger than I had in a long time. I turned it faster, then faster still until I sprinted on the conveyor. Three miles felt like one.
Then my knee buckled.
It was like a lightning strike that started in my knee and shot up my thigh into my groin and down my leg until my toes cramped into a curled position. I caught the handrail before I fell and things were worse, yanking the key from the panel. Easing myself off the conveyor, I hobbled to the nearest seated machine, thankful for the safety shutoffs and for engaging it. Normally I didn’t bother.
My heartbeat found a new home in my knee. It beat just beneath the patella, shooting pain through my thigh and calf in a rhythm. Fucking hell. Why did I push it? My teeth churned against one another. The more I tried to not think about it, the more it hurt. The more it ballooned. It didn’t help that each breath made my chest tighten. My vision blurred as the room swayed.
“Fuck!” I screamed as loud as I could. There was no way I’d play this spring. Not unless some miracle happened. I fell back on the bench and stared at the holes in the ceiling.
I stayed like that until the throbbing subsided and my vision returned to normal. I should’ve gone to the ER, but I didn’t want to face the doc I’d skipped out on. The shitty fluorescent lights bounced off the barbell above my head. That’s what I needed. Take my mind off the knee by lifting. I glanced at the weights on the end. Two fifties, and maybe a twenty-five I couldn’t see on the end. Nothing more than a hundred fifty. I could do that with one hand.
Sliding up the bench, my knee stretched, shooting another round of hell in every direction of my leg. I reached up and gripped the barbell, lifting it easily. Thank God, I’d kept the upper body workout going after my injury. I did five reps, rested, then did ten, rinse, repeat, until I had lifted fifty reps in a row. My arms felt like cooked spaghetti, but my knee wasn’t throbbing like a drum line anymore. The surge of excessive energy was long gone, and a hint of exhaustion sizzled in my bones. The clock on my phone read four thirty. Just the right amount of time to head back to the dorm, shower, and nap before going to Mallory’s.
I knocked on the door at six forty. I must’ve hit snooze on my alarm and overslept by twenty minutes. My knee had swollen up into a volleyball. An ice pack for ten minutes helped. I hated wearing the damn brace but didn’t have a whole lot of other options. The amount of ibuprofen coursing through my blood would knock out a lesser man. I tugged on my shorts, wishing I could’ve worn jeans, but they didn’t fit over the brace.
Mallory opened the door, her eyes widening as soon as they fell on my knee. “What happened?”
I shrugged like it wasn’t the big deal it was. “Pushed it too hard. Coach’s gonna kick my butt.”
She stepped out of the door and let me in. I hobbled into the house, noting nothing romantic had been set up. Part of me had hoped, not that I could do anything at the moment anyway. I half fell, half sat on her couch, stretching my leg out along the length of the sofa. Mickey jumped onto the arm behind my head and rubbed against me. I scratched him under his chin, his purr ricocheting in my ear. It was the first time he’d let me near him. Guess he decided I wasn’t that bad after all.
She pushed her books out of the way and sat on the edge of the coffee table. Her eyes glanced toward the brace before settling back on my face. “How?”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to tell her. Anger boiled inside me with that simple question. I didn’t understand why, but I didn’t want her to know what a failure I was. “It doesn’t matter. Can you drop it?”
She moved back as if I’d slapped her.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the arm, sending Mickey onto the floor. “I’m sorry. You didn’t…” I wanted to say she didn’t deserve it, but didn’t she? I don’t tell her one little thing and I’m the bad guy. How I hurt my knee was insignificant to the shit she held back from me. She had no reason to stare at me like that.
“No, it’s okay. If you…” Her voice hitched and I opened my eyes. She tried to smile, but it didn’t last even a second. Why did I do that to her?
“I ran on the treadmill,” I blurted out. The anger drained from me. I hated making her unhappy. I hated how much it pissed me off that I was the cause of her misery. I hated myself for caving. There were so many things I hated at the moment, I couldn’t remember anything I didn’t despise on epic levels.
Coming here was a mistake.
“Oh. I thought you weren’t supposed to run until after Christmas.” She stood and moved toward the kitchen.
“Yeah, well, I did, and it screwed up my knee.” The smell of tomato sauce, garlic, and oregano filled my nose. My stomach rumbled like a lion warning the others to stay the fuck away. “What happened to the Chinese?”
She didn’t say anything, but I heard her in the kitchen banging some pots around. Her voice was tighter than I’d ever heard it. “They closed early today. Did you bring the paper?”
“Shit. I forgot.” I forced myself to my feet and moved around the couch toward the kitchen. Mallory stood at the stove, stirring the sauce. The steam swirled in the air until it reached her face. She inhaled, and I remembered why I was really here. For her. Anything for her. I hobbled toward her, wrapping my arms around her waist and burying my nose in her hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I snapped at you. This injury’s been a curse and a blessing. Sometimes I don’t know which is worse.”
She stopped stirring but wouldn’t look at me. “A blessing?”
“Yeah, a blessing because I met you.” I pressed a kiss onto her neck. Her entire body stiffened under my touch. I let go, giving her the room I knew she needed. But it was fucking hard.
“I feel more like your curse,” Mallory said. She pulled the spaghetti off the stove and turned to the sink to drain the water. “I thought…I thought it would be nice to make dinner instead. I hope that’s okay?”
“It’s perfect.” My temper waited in the wings, ready to flare again. I couldn’t give it a reason to. So what if she changed her mind for dinner? Spaghetti was one of my favorites, anyway.
We ate in silence. I kept replaying my attitude problem. She hadn’t done anything to set me off, yet I was so pissed. It bothered me how many secrets she had, yeah, but she shared so much lately. And I had to hide this stupid thing I did. There was no way I could’ve predicted how much doping would affect Mallory. Who was I pissed at more: myself or her?
Mallory took my plate, and I stretched out on the couch again. I had no clue what to say to break the tension between us, a tension I’d caused. When she came back to the living room, she sat on the couch and put an ice pack over my knee.
“For the swelling,” she said.
“Thank you.” I wanted to pull her toward me, hold her until she knew I was sorry for being such a dick. I didn’t.
Mallory adjusted the ice pack until she was satisfied and moved away from me, careful not to touch my leg. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I don’t know.” I reached out and took her hand. “I…I’ve done nothing but dream of playing pro ball since I can remember. It’s just hard to think that’s slipping away. I want to be back to my old self.”
Mallory squeezed my fingers. “You will be. But you have to give it time. Jason hurt his knee in high school and missed his sophomore year.” She scooted closer to me. “He reinjured it by pushing too hard. If he had followed doctor’s orders, he might have played later that season. Instead he had to wait until the next year. Be patient, and you’ll get better.”
If I had to hear another word about Jason Carter, my head was going to explode. If he was so fucking perfect, why didn’t she just move in with him? Anger surged through me again. It wasn’t rational. I knew that she didn’t want anything more than friendship with Carter. I knew she was letting me in. I knew there was more between us, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted to burn the fucking world.
“I should go.” I stood and limped toward the door. Over my shoulder, I added, “I’ll see you later.”
“Aaron, wait,” Mallory said as I pulled open the door.
The cold air didn’t cool me off. My skin burned. My hands shook as I waited for her.
“Will you just come back in?” Mallory said. “Something’s bothering you and…I just wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”
I barked out a laugh. “Guess you know how it feels now.”
“Okay,” she said, crossing her arms and shivering. “I deserve that. Just come back in. Please.”
I stared at her beautiful face for a moment and saw how much I’d hurt her. It tore at me. I reached for her, but she stepped back out of my reach. I walked into the house, hanging my jacket on the coatrack.
She followed me to the couch, sitting on the opposite end. Mickey leaped onto the middle cushion. I put my foot on the coffee table and reached for the cat. Just as Mallory did the same. My hand covered hers. I squeezed it gently.
“I’m sorry.” We continued to pet the cat together. “I’ve been busting my ass on the paper, and I needed to burn off this surge of energy, so I went to the gym to lift. I guess I’ve been sitting on my ass too long. I got on the treadmill to walk, then pushed too far. Damn it.” I rubbed my temples. “I’m pissed at myself for being a dumbass. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t deserve it.”
“If…” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “If we’re going to be in a relationship, we both have to talk.” She turned toward me, lifting Mickey out of the way and onto the back of the couch. He meowed and swatted at my head before jumping down. “I know I’m the worst at it, but I’m trying here. Please don’t shut me out now.”
This time when I reached for her she met me halfway. “We’re in a relationship?”
Mallory slapped my chest, but a small smile curved across her face.
“I just wanted to hear you say it again.”
She didn’t. She kissed me instead.