Chapter Nineteen
Connor
I couldn’t sleep after Gia left. I wanted to blame it on the pain, but honestly, as long as I didn’t move, that wasn’t so bad. What was more agonizing was the argument I’d had with Gia, the anger I felt toward Sophia, and the fear I constantly battled for Cassie. It all swirled together, adding to the shitstorm of missing out on what could have been the best year of my career. I wanted to plant my fist through a wall. I would have headed for the scotch bottle, but that was a bad idea with painkillers. And besides, I would have to get out of bed to find it.
All in all, it was a shitty night. It got worse when I tried to get up the next morning…er, afternoon. Everything had stiffened up. And yeah, I was supposed to go support the team, but I was too depressed to do more than turn on the TV.
We lost, which made it even worse. Normally, injured or not, I’d be in the locker room trying to keep team morale up. But I was stuck in bed, steeped in a pity party that was best indulged alone. Then Cassie showed up with a pizza and ruined even that.
She got me out of bed and into a shower, grabbed some ice for my knee, and then stuffed me full of pepperoni. That started to turn my mood around. Even better, we watched her volleyball game together—which they won—but she was unusually silent about it. She was more worried about a political science paper, so we talked it through until Gia showed up.
Then Cassie escaped. Gia smiled at me—of course, she did—and that lit up a dark place inside me. But I noticed how worn down Gia looked. And when she opened her mouth to talk, I just shook my head.
“Can I just hold you for a while? Let’s not talk. I’m too depressed.”
She nodded, and the relief on her face took away my guilt.
We watched stupid sitcoms. I stuffed her with the remaining pizza and even rubbed her feet while she moaned loud enough to get my dick sticking up through my shorts. She noticed right away, but I couldn’t read her expression.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I said.
“But I do want to.”
And that was it. We made love on the couch, with her doing all the work. I got to watch her glorious body rise and lower on me. I got to fondle her breasts and thumb her clit until she screamed. And when I finally came, the orgasm wiped away all my pain. All of it, except one.
I hadn’t told her I loved her. I wanted to. God knew it was on my tongue for most of the evening. But instead of saying it aloud, I kissed her. I nibbled and licked her until she screamed my name. And then I pulled her close until we both fell asleep.
She brought me water when I needed more painkillers, and she made breakfast for me in the morning. I still couldn’t say the words, not even when I realized that this was how I wanted every day of my life to be—cuddled up with Gia in the evenings, Gia in my bed at night, and waking up to Gia each morning. Nothing else mattered to me but her.
And yet, I still didn’t say the words.
We lost the second game of the series, and I figured I’d wallowed long enough. My knee was healing, so I grabbed my crutches and caught a cab to the stadium. It was hard getting inside. I was an athlete, but crutches made even my shoulders ache. Thankfully, I got inside before the guys went home, and I did everything I could to make them feel better.
Gia didn’t come that night. She was supervising a special party for Joe’s friends. I missed her, but it gave me more time to hang with the team.
I didn’t travel with them for games three and four, but I made sure I kept in contact with those who wanted to hear from me. We won both games, with Rob hitting a grand slam home run to finish up the fourth. Then they were back in Indianapolis, and I was determined to be with them every step of the way. It felt good to be in the locker room, especially since the swelling in my knee had gone down. I was still using the crutches as a precaution, but I could walk without them if I needed to.
When we won game five and six, securing our place in the series finals, everyone was flying high. I joined in both the celebration and the don’t-get-too-cocky talk. And then I went to find Gia in her office, hoping that we could celebrate in our own way. I didn’t find her. Instead, as I rounded the corner, I saw Sophia snooping through Gia’s desk.
“Get out!”
I barked the two words from the doorway, and she jerked in reaction. She shut the desk drawer but then rushed forward with every appearance of glee. “You’re up and walking! I’m so happy for—”
I didn’t let her hug me but held out my hand to keep her back. And then I set the crutches aside and stood solidly on both legs.
“Why do you think it’s okay to dig around in someone else’s desk?”
“What? Oh, Gia and I have been working together. There’s some stuff I needed, and she said to just grab—”
“Bullshit. You’re not working together, and she’d never let you in here alone.”
Sophia laughed as if I’d just made a bad joke. “Don’t be silly. I’ve been helping her with the articles about you. Didn’t you see? The features are continuing. Thanks to me, you’re going to be bigger than ever, once you come back.”
I was aware of the articles, but I sincerely doubted Sophia had done any of the work. Because I wasn’t playing, the promotion had shifted to the number of home runs hit by the entire team. And though my social media feed was filled with wishes for a speedy recovery, there’d also been some blowback from those who hated that I made myself out to be a hero.
“Have you been reading the media feed?” I asked, my tone hard. Then I thumbed on my phone and read some of the tweets I’d saved for just this moment. “@ConnorHart thinks grabbing a boy at a birthday party is the same as leaping from a burning building with a kid in his arms. #HeroFail.” I scrolled to the next one. “How tiny is @ConnorHart’s penis to—”
“Stop it! You know the haters are going to hate. And besides, there is no such thing as bad publicity. They’re talking about you. That’s—”
“Wrong,” I said, my voice hard as I held up a graphic cartoon with the caption “Connor’s version of heroism.” It was gross, and I hated that I’d even saved it to my phone, but I needed to show Sophia that people noticed when she lied.
“Ewww,” she said as she waved my phone away.
“Exactly. You can’t lie, Sophia. It always gets out.”
“Really, I’d be worried if you didn’t get some ugly publicity. It’s all a sign—”
“I don’t like it. And if you lie about me again, I’m ending our contract.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Is your leg hurting you? Let me buy you a drink and—”
“No.”
“—we can talk new publicity ideas. We need to get going on—”
“No.”
“—another calendar idea. I was thinking—”
“No!”
She pulled up short, her expression filled with hurt. “There’s no need to shout. I thought I taught you better than that.”
I shook my head. She was right—my knee was hurting. But that had nothing to do with my next move. Dialing one-handed, I called the security office. Someone answered right away.
“Hi, this is Connor Hart. I’m standing outside of Gia’s office. I need you to escort Sophia Hart to her car. Her press and family privileges are revoked. I don’t want her in the ballpark again unless I tell you otherwise.” I waited as the voice on the other end assured me that it would be handled immediately and that two guards were on their way. I thanked them and looked directly at my sister’s shocked expression. “I’m done letting you get away with this kind of bullshit. Clean up your act or there will be nothing left between us.”
“Nothing left? Are you forgetting what I’ve done for you? If it weren’t for me—”
Gia’s voice cut through the tirade. “What are you doing in my office?”
I spun around, faltering when it tweaked my knee. “Security is on the way. She was going through your desk.”
Gia rolled her eyes. “I know. That’s why I put everything important in the locked cabinet.”
It took me a moment to process that. Had Sophia really—?
“Oh my God, it’s all so clear now!” Sophia bellowed. “It’s her. She’s poisoned you against me. I never thought I’d see the day when my brother let himself be led around by a little tramp—”
My knee be damned. I grabbed my sister by the arm and dragged her out of Gia’s office.
“Not another word, Sophia. Not. Another. Damned. Word.”
She pushed her trembling lips together, her breath short and tight. And then big fat tears started rolling down her cheeks. I wanted to believe that they were fake. Hell, they probably were. But I’d seen those tears when we buried our mother and again when our father was put in the ground. I’d seen them when she was trying to study for a test and realized that the refrigerator was empty and no one had money for pizza. I’d seen those tears before when they’d been real. But I couldn’t tell now if these were fake, real, or some combination of both.
And I couldn’t stand there holding my sister against the wall when she was crying.
I eased back. Thankfully, security chose that moment to show up.
“Connor…” Sophia said, her voice breathy with pain.
“Go. Now.”
She waited a moment. I couldn’t look at her face, so I turned away. I heard security directing her to “Come this way,” then only footsteps and a loud sound as Sophia blew her nose.
God, I couldn’t feel more wretched.
I felt Gia’s arm slip around my waist. “I’ve got an hour before my next media event. Want to grab a cheeseburger?”
I nodded. I wanted a greasy cheeseburger, unhealthy sweet potato fries, and a bottomless mug of beer. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
She pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’m not.”
We went together for food. She ended up getting a call after forty-five minutes—something about setting up interviews before the next game. I waved her away and wished I could be part of the excitement, but I had to take care of my knees, first. And if the guys could just win the League Championship, I’d have a shot at the World Series.
Assuming everything went right.
So I did everything I was supposed to. I let Gia do her job. I didn’t respond to Sophia’s voicemail apologies and pleas for understanding. I also did my exercises, iced obsessively, took the cortisone shots, and let the trainers massage, stimulate, and stretch me in ways that could make a grown man cry. I didn’t, but damn, there were times my eyes definitely watered from the pain.
Gia and I got together when her schedule allowed for it. We had sweet nights and shared our lives in every way but the important ones. We didn’t talk about Sophia, and I never said, “I love you,” though I felt it in every part of my body.
The whole thing made me irrationally angry. Gia deserved better than what I was giving her. I lived in fear that she would wake up and demand something that, for some reason, I was unable to give.
But she didn’t push, and I loved her all the more for it.
And the Bobcats won the American League Championship.
I was there for the celebration. My crutches were a thing of the past, and I’d even been able to do some easy warm-ups. My knee wasn’t up to playing yet, but I was getting close. I could feel it. Or maybe it was the Bobcat fever that had gripped Indianapolis. Everywhere I went, people recognized me. They asked about my rehab and how soon I could play.
“Soon,” was my answer, and I prayed it was true.
The night before the team left for the World Series against the Cardinals, we were at my place, grabbing a quick meal of coq au vin that I had made myself. I always cooked when I had time on my hands. Gia was deep into her fifth groan of foodgasm when her phone rang.
I couldn’t hear who was calling, but Gia’s look of alarm was enough to get me putting the food away. Especially when she spoke.
“Slow down, Cassie. Tell what happened.” Fear shot through me, then terror at her next words. “Call Campus Security. I’m on my way.”