Page 65 of Playing for Love

“If that’s a problem— “

“No problem.” Like hell it wasn’t. But then maybe I needed a test of my resolve. Let’s see if I could drop her off and not get out of my car and follow her inside to her apartment. Let’s see if I could let her out of the car without kissing her—

She smiled. My jaw muscle ticked with the effort to not react, to not lean down and kiss her right then and there, before we even reached my car. I kept my mouth shut and we got in. I even managed to open her door for her without touching her.

Neither of us had anything to say on the ride to her place. Not a long ride, thank god. Ten minutes on back roads because I’d memorized it since the first time I’d dropped her off. Between the lousy game I’d played and the coach’s lecture, I was strung tight, ripe to either lash out or—and this would have been my preference if I became unleashed—kiss her senseless with a ravaging kiss, and that was for starters.

But I didn’t do anything but drive, perfectly under control, even if I felt the taut vibrations of my will power being stretched. Well, almost all of me was under control. My cock was taut and vibrating and not in anyone’s control except Mia’s.

When I pulled up to the curb in front of her building, I stayed put. My cock too stiff to bother getting out of the car even if I had the bad sense to attempt it.

“Thanks for the ride.” She looked at me and paused. “I would ask you to come in, but…”

I stared at her, willing her with my limited mental powers to tell me why she wasn’t going to ask me in, maybe willing her to ask me in anyway.”

“Is something wrong, Gabe?” she waved a hand. “I mean besides losing the game.”

Maybe it was the way she dismissed the game, the loss, like it was fucking meaningless, that snapped my tension, that rescued me from the verge of giving in.

“In my world, playing the way I did tonight is just about the wrongest thing there is.” My voice was firm and hard enough to convince her. I was convinced. Pretty much. My cock was still on team Mia. Then I added, because she looked distraught, “Plus I’m still worried about my mother.” It wasn’t a lie, even though she was doing better.

“I understand,” she said, looking resigned. She opened her door.

I should tell her now that we were over, that I couldn’t see her, that there couldn’t be a relationship between us, no more lovemaking, though my cock wanted to murder me at the thought.

But I couldn’t bring myself to cut her off even though there was something terribly wrong with keeping her. Like I’d be letting go of football if I were with her and I couldn’t do that either. I couldn’t let go of either of them. It felt like I’d walked to the edge of a precipice to a deep cavernous void and she was on the other side of the divide while I stood on the side of football. I couldn’t see a way to get to her without falling into the void if I jumped. However concerned Mia might be, she couldn’t be surprised, because I’d warned her. Denise had warned her.

“Maybe you can give me a call tomorrow, after practice,” she said.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t make the promise, couldn’t speak over the warring in my soul over needing her and needing football. But I had football. Knew football. I was already riding this unicorn and needed to keep riding it as far as it would take me. I wasn’t abandoning football now.

She got out of the car and said, “I’ll call you.”

I needed to talk to her, but I needed to get my head on straight first. Needed to talk to my dad.

* * *

Monday nightinstead of calling Mia, I texted her to let her know I was visiting Mom at the hospital. It was late enough so that I knew Mia wouldn’t be there to join me.

It was well past visiting hours, but I’d used my notoriety to get past the rules. When I walked into the room with a bouquet of pink roses, Mom’s favorite, I wasn’t surprised that no one else was around. It was late.

“Gabriel, my favorite bambino—don’t tell anyone else.” She put out her arms, perking up from her resting spot on the pillow.

I went to her, slid into her hug and hugged her back, careful, trying not to notice her frailty. She wasn’t skinny and that might be part of her problem, but she’d lost strength and I could feel it in her arms around me.

“Everyone gone for the night?” I said as I straightened and sat in the bedside chair.

“Finally.” Her smile teased, adored me, glowed at me and my chest squeezed at the idea of losing her.

“What is it, honey? Tell me what happened to make you play that way?” Her words were gentle, non-judgmental and knowing. I shrugged.

“I’m worried about you,” I said.

“There’s no need to worry. I’ll be back to normal in no time. The doctor fixed me all up. My heart is good as new.” She sighed and I smiled, eating up her words, believing her.

“Except you’re going to break my heart right now looking at your sad face. Tell me why you’re so sad.”

“I don’t know, Ma, maybe it has something to do with that sucky game I played.” Me trying to be funny, forgetting my mother was better than me at reading people.