“So do you want to come to the stadium? Watch me for a bit? Then we can grab something to eat before you have to go to the hospital.”
I smiled. So he wasn’t baring his soul to me, but he still wanted me around. That was something. And how pathetic that I was willing to accept half measures. I ought to have more self-respect, but I was in love. And lovesick women could be stupid.
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said as I looked at the clock. “Do I have time to shower?”
“Will you let me join you?”
I hesitated. It wasn’t a bad idea, starting my day with some great sex. Then, before I could answer, he was scooping me up in his arms and carrying me straight into the bathroom.
…
The rest of the week followed in much the same way. Hot sex. A little baseball here, an interview there. I went to work, I went to bed. In the middle, I had great sex and should have been happy. Hell, I should have been ecstatic. But I wasn’t. Instead, I was getting crankier and more frustrated. I felt empty and abandoned.
Why? Because I was falling deeper and deeper in love with Jake, but I couldn’t tell him. He’d just freak and run again. And yes, eventually he told me about his mother and those stupid girls. He’d spoken in halting sentences and had shrugged the whole thing off, as if it hadn’t cut him to the core. And I’d let him deflect because I understood how badly they’d hurt him. But I wasn’t them, and I wasn’t running.
But I also wasn’t forcing my feelings on him, either. We were just having a good time while I felt more and more disconnected from my own emotions. I was in love with a great guy, but I couldn’t tell him. And every time I stopped myself from speaking, I felt like I was cutting out a piece of my own heart. Though he never said anything about breaking up, there was also no indication that he’d want anything more with me beyond the end of the season.
Double happy on the surface. Growing resentment on the inside. And me, as always, too afraid to say anything.
God, I was a coward.
And then one night at 2:00 a.m., enlightenment hit. I was working, trying to do my job without snapping anyone’s head off. Gone was my sunny outlook. I had no patience, either, and it had been one of the busiest nights I’d seen so far.
Things had just quieted down. I was taking a moment to sit in silence when Mrs. Peedlemire hit the call button. Again.
I knew what she wanted. Hell, the entire ward knew what she wanted. More painkillers. The woman couldn’t get a hangnail without reaching for the Demerol. And for the first time ever, instead of running from conflict, I decided to face it.
So that’s what I did. I walked into her room and told her she’d already had as much pain relief as she was allowed, that any more would make her even sicker. When she started calling me names, I got in her face and told her she was acting like a lonely, attention-starved child. And that if she was nicer to the people who were trying to care for her, she might not be so lonely, because the staff wouldn’t dread looking in on her. Hell, if her attitude improved, she might even get a few visitors.
I’d barely walked out of the older woman’s room when Mrs. Sargent met me with a dark look. She told me in no uncertain terms that nurses were supposed to be understanding and kind. No matter how awful the patient, a nurse had to hold her tongue…and her temper.
And then she sent me home. She told me in a gleeful tone that there would be a review the next day. And that, in her opinion, I should expect to be fired.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ellie
It was too early to go anywhere but home, and yet I found myself driving to Jake’s apartment instead. The bellman offered to let me in, but he warned me that Jake wasn’t there. I didn’t have to ask where he’d gone. There was only one place he’d be this late on a weeknight.
So I drove to Pops’s place. I’d never gone there before, but it was easy to find the address. It would have been smarter to go home and sleep off my pain, then see Jake after I settled into a better frame of mind. But I didn’t want to face the prospect of losing my job alone. I wanted him to hold me and tell me that it would be okay. And then I wanted mind-blowing sex. I couldn’t think of a better way to obliterate panic than with an all-consuming orgasm. And that could only be found with Jake.
I texted him on the way over but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer. He was probably asleep or deep in a battle with Pops. Either way, he wouldn’t answer. And I felt guilty for needing to be with him. But not enough to turn around.
And then I was at Pops’s dilapidated house. Someone had mowed the lawn and made a cursory attempt at the weeds. I was pretty sure that it hadn’t been Pops, but didn’t know if had been Jake who’d done it, or his brother. The porch light was on and I knocked on the door. When no one answered, I called Jake’s phone.
He answered with a hiss of pain, mixed with a muddled, “Yeah?”
“It’s me,” I said, my voice choking. “Are you at Pops’s place?”
“Um, yeah.” I could hear the concern in his voice. “What happened?”
“I’m standing at the front door. Can you open it for me?”
“What? Hold on.” I heard more muffled sounds from the inside of the house. A minute later, I heard the locks, and then the door opened. Jake was standing there all rumpled and flushed, looking at me with blinking eyes as he set down his phone.
“I’m sorry to bother you this late,” I said, my voice choking.
He didn’t say a word but just pulled me into his arms. I held on to him, and it was the best feeling in the world. Or it was, until I noticed the heat coming off his body and the way he tensed when I squeezed. So I released him enough to look in his eyes and touch his face.
