Night Games (15 page)

“What? Your mom’s here too? Did you know she was coming?” Grey asks, looking a little unnerved.

“Mr. Whitfield?” Luis’s voice crackles over the speaker again, waiting for my reply.

“Yes, Luis. Send them up.” I try to bend my knee, but I forget I’m strapped into the new brace Dr. Brownstein gave me. It’s become a nervous habit of mine lately to ease the tension, but now I can’t move it at all. I’m trapped just as much as my injured joint. My mother is going to sniff out the truth. There’s no stopping her from unraveling Grey’s whole story.

“How do you want me to play this?” Grey whispers, her face pale.

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue. She’s going to know if I’m lying. I can never pull anything over on her.”

“So when you were a kid, she always knew when you were pretending to be sick when you didn’t want to go to school?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I can’t focus right now. I love my mom, but I don’t want her up in my business. If she doesn’t like Grey, things could get ugly. I really wanted to sidestep all this bullshit.

“So who am I supposed to be? Your girlfriend?” Grey looks up me searchingly, but I can’t give her the answer she wants to hear. If it were just my sister, I could test the waters, saw how it all plays out, but not with my mother. Definitely not with my mother.

“No, just say the Kings hired you to look after me for a couple of days because they don’t want me up on my feet.”

“But I’m letting you walk three blocks for coffee?”

“They know the Kings are overly cautious with me and that I never listen to what they say. I always end up doing whatever the hell I want.”

“Is that so?”

“I might have signed my name on the dotted line, but they don’t own me. No one does.”

She looks disappointed in me, her lips forming a straight line. I want to kiss her and make her smile again, but I can’t because they’re already knocking. This whole thing might very well spiral out of control. There are too many moving pieces. I can’t keep my eye on all of them. One slip of the tongue and it’s all over.

Giving Grey a quick nod of encouragement, I swing open the door. For better or worse, Grey Kelleher is about to meet the Whitfields. Where’s my dad when I need him? He always gets along with all my girlfriends. Even though Grey’s technically not my girlfriend…

“Oh my lord, look at the size of that brace! What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.” My mom rushes over the threshold, seizing me in a hug so tight I can’t move.

“Who’s this?” J.J. is eyeing Grey up, ready to pounce.

“I’m his home health aide.” Grey beats me to the punch, and that’s a big mistake. She should’ve let me speak first and smooth things over.

“Dressed like that?” J.J. raises an eyebrow in my direction, and all I can do is shrug while I keep on embracing my mom to prevent her from turning around.

“Dressed like what?” Grey quickly retorts.

“Don’t you have to wear, like, a uniform or something? You don’t look too professional.” J.J. already has her hand on her hip, ready to throw down.

“I got called in unexpectedly.” Grey shifts her weight from foot to foot, lying through her teeth.

“Well, my son does have a reputation with the ladies.” My mom lets go of me, wagging her finger in my face. “This girl is here to do her job. You hear me? So keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, Mom.” I’m kind of taken aback that she’s taking Grey’s side.

“Thanks, Mrs. Whitfield.” Grey smiles sweetly at her while laughing at me with her eyes—she’s enjoying this a little too much.

J.J.’s head is tilted to the side as she watches our exchange.

“Call me Linda, dear. I want to be on a first-name basis with whoever’s taking care of my son.” She extends her hand, and Grey shakes it.

“I’m Grey. Pleased to meet you. And your daughter.” Grey releases my mom’s hand and offers it to J.J., who hesitates a minute before taking it.

“J.J.” My sister’s reply is direct and to the point, still unsure of what to make of Grey. She senses something’s up. “So what exactly are you doing for my brother? Do I even want to know?”

“Don’t listen to her. It’s the hormones talking. She’s been a bear ever since she got pregnant.” I step in to protect Grey from my sister’s wrath. “And Grey’s already worked miracles when it comes to my knee. She gave me this great anti-inflammatory ointment that really helped reduce the swelling. I’m already starting to see some improvement.”

The look Grey gives me at hearing that her treatment worked makes all of this lying worth the risk. Her happiness over being able to help me radiates outward. Her concern for me is genuine. It’s like she cares about me just as much as my mom and J.J. And it frightens me to think I could care about her just as much as I do about them.

“And you feel good enough to walk all the way down to 47th Street in that thing? You’re nuts, bro. The paparazzi are prowling around outside. We’re gonna get swarmed. Your face is all over the news. Everyone’s saying you’re done.” J.J. crosses her arms over her baby bump, her eyes shifting from me to Grey. “Do you think he’s done?”

“No, I don’t. I still believe in him, and so should you.” The vehemence in Grey’s response causes the corner of J.J.’s mouth to turn up.

“You’re not as bad as I thought. Let’s get my brother his shot of caffeine before he throws a hissy fit. We’re already off his rigid schedule by like a half hour.” J.J. ushers us out the door, hitting the down button for the elevator.

“What do you mean?” Grey questions.

“Chase has to do the same thing at the same time every day or he freaks out.” J.J. smirks in my direction.

“I do not,” I protest, not wanting Grey to think I have some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder.

“I’m afraid he does, dear.” My mom drapes her arm over Grey’s shoulders like she’s letting her in on a little secret. “If he doesn’t get his coffee, black, from Starbucks by nine a.m., all hell breaks loose.”

“I like to stick to a routine. That’s all. It helps me stay grounded when I wake up in a different city every morning. I need some sense of normalcy to keep me sane.” I’ve never made this kind of admission to anyone outside of my immediate family. I glance over at Grey to see how she’s taking it, but she’s playing it cool, looking at her feet as she follows my mom onto the elevator.

“Well, things are about to get crazy the minute we hit the lobby, so get ready,” J.J. mutters, slipping a pair of sunglasses out of her purse.

“Do you ever get used to all this?” Grey asks, a little too eager to hear what they have to say about being related to someone as famous as me.

“At first, it’s flattering,” my mom admits.

“But it gets old really fast, especially when you’re always being compared to Mr. Perfect over there.” J.J. juts her chin at me before sticking out her tongue.

“Yeah, real mature, J.J.” We bicker all the time, but I can’t help but wonder what Grey must be thinking about all of this.

“Now, now, you two. There are some benefits. It’s not just about the invasion of privacy or putting up with all the gossip. J.J., you wouldn’t be having that baby of yours if it weren’t for your brother.” My mom fiddles with the gold cross around her neck, trying to look on the bright side.

“Mom, that sounds so wrong.” J.J. laughs. “You make it sound like Chase got me pregnant. Gross.” J.J. looks at Grey, holding up her hand like she’s taking an oath. “I swear this is not an incestuous baby. I did not sleep with my brother. Even if I’m the only woman in New York who hasn’t.”

“Well, that goes for both of us,” Grey chimes in, and my cheeks redden.

“What? He got you pregnant too?” J.J. chides.

“Knock it off, J.J.” There’s nothing worse than having the two of them ride my ass, especially when it comes to having sex with Grey. What, am I some kind of joke to her now?

But I don’t get a chance to find out as we’re thrown into a maelstrom of camera flashes. J.J. lowers her sunglasses, tucking our mother’s arm under hers and guiding her out of the lobby and into the chaos—leaving me alone with Grey. Damn it. I can’t let Grey get shoved around. I have to protect her from these animals. They’re ruthless. They’d have no problem knocking her down in order to get to me.

“Hold on to me,” I urge, not wanting J.J. and my mom to get too far ahead of us.

“What?” Grey glances up at me like I just asked her to jump off a fifty-story building. “That wasn’t the plan. Remember? They’re supposed to think I’m J.J.’s friend.”

“Yeah, well J.J.’s long gone, and we can’t exactly retreat back upstairs. They’ve already taken our picture standing here. It’ll only look more suspicious if we cut and run.” I watch as the photographers scramble over each other to get a better shot of us.

“But our story isn’t going to hold up. The minute they start fact-checking to see who I am, they’re gonna find out the Kings didn’t hire me.” She’s starting to get nervous as everything I strove to protect her from comes crashing down around us.

“J.J. and my mom aren’t gonna say a word to the press. And we’re not either. We’re just gonna walk out that door and keep going until we hit Starbucks. That’s all you have to do. Think you can handle it?” I’m baiting her, because I’m just as scared as she is.

“I’m not that much of a pushover. C’mon, let’s do this thing.”

I follow her out, enjoying the brief interlude we have crammed up against each other in the revolving door, but it ends way too soon as we’re engulfed in a barrage of shouted questions and popping flashbulbs.

“Chase, is your career with the New York Kings over?”

“Hey, Whitfield, who’s that? Your new girlfriend?”

“Is it true that you and Irina Portanova broke up?”

There are a lot more photographers out here than usual, and they’re right on top of us, barely giving us room to move up the block. Out of instinct, I wrap my arm around Grey and try to lead her through the melee surrounding us on every side. It’s never been this bad before. They must smell blood in the water. For the first time in my career, I’m down and out, and they can’t wait to jump all over that. Churning out bad news is what drives the tabloid machine.

Which means Grey is about to become my most talked about girlfriend ever.

Chapter Nineteen

Grey

Chase is getting our coffee to go since everyone in Starbucks is staring a hole through us, thanks to the photographers camped outside. His mom was only in town to take J.J. to an OB-GYN appointment, so they bailed on us, not wanting to subject the baby to any more excitement than necessary. And I can’t say that I blame them. They’ve been putting up with this for years, and I’ve about had it after fifteen minutes.

I can’t believe the barista is making us wait for our drinks. Doesn’t she realize that we want to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible? But she has that lovey-dovey look in her eyes as she adds a shot of foam to my latte. She’s waiting on New York Kings star shortstop Chase Whitfield and she intends to savor every moment of the experience.

It startles me to think that I was that girl just a few days ago, gazing at Chase with the same dopey expression on my face. But now I’ve suddenly been catapulted into the stratosphere in league with the likes of Irina Portanova. This is way more intense than I imagined. Being with Chase is like amping everything up to a whole other level. What I wear. How I act. What I say. Every facet of my existence is going to put under the microscope and analyzed by a horde of obsessive fans ready to rip me apart. I should know. I used to be one of them.

“Chase…I mean Chuck?” The barista gives him a dazzling smile as she snaps the lids onto our cups. I don’t know why Chase insists on using an alias. It’s not like he’s fooling anybody. Everyone in here knows exactly who he is. There’s no way we’re blending in. Not now—maybe not ever.

And that freaks me out.

As he hands me my drink, our phones go off simultaneously. The only counter is along the window, where the paparazzi would love to get a shot of us sipping coffee together. Instead, Chase nods toward the enclosed hallway in the back by the restrooms, and I follow him, trying to balance my coffee while digging my phone out of my purse.

Chase is already talking to someone as I look down and see Erin’s name on the screen. Immediately, my hands start to shake, so I put down my cup and sit against the wall. This can’t be good.

“Erin, just tell me. Is it Mom?” I force some air into my lungs, trying not to listen to Chase talking a mile a minute above me.

“No, you fool. I’m calling about you. You’re all over the internet. Irina had some kind of meltdown at JFK and everyone’s blaming it on you.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. They already found out your name, where you live, where you went to high school.”

“How? They literally just took our picture together.”

“Maybe someone tipped them off. I don’t know. But everyone thinks you’re screwing Chase.”

“But I’m not screwing Chase.”

“Doesn’t matter. You got caught coming out of his apartment and then he took you to Starbucks. That’s all it takes.”

“Shit.”

“Is he, like, using you to show he’s no longer with Irina?”

“No, it’s not like that. His mother and sister were with us but—”

“Wait, hold up. He introduced you to his family?”

“Yeah, I wanted to meet his sister and—”

“Grey Goose, do you know how major that is? His family is never seen in public with any of his girlfriends. This is huge. No wonder you’re blowing up all over Twitter and Facebook. Man, I wanna see a pic of you with his mom and sis too.”

“Erin, focus. What should I do?”

“Well, does he think you’re his girlfriend now?”

“He said he doesn’t want me to be. That I’d only get hurt. But I think it’s too late now.”

“Yeah, I’d say. You took the walk of shame together whether or not you actually did the deed.”

“But there’s a lot more to it than that. Yesterday, he asked me to marry him then he took it back. Then he got hurt in the game, and I drove out here to check on him. Then he threw Irina out. And then all this happened with the paparazzi. I feel so lost, Erin. And I probably got fired from my job when I didn’t show up this morning. And I don’t have enough money to get my truck out of the parking garage. And I have, like, one bar of juice left on my phone and I forgot my charger.”

“Grey, calm the fuck down. You have Chase. Let him handle it. He’s used to dealing with this shit. So don’t go falling apart on me, okay? There’s just one thing I have to know. Why did he take back his marriage proposal?”

“You would have to pick up on that in spite of everything else I just told you.”

“Girl, the most eligible bachelor in New York freakin’ asked you to marry him. Of course I’m going to pick up on that. How in the world did you manage to pull that off? But more importantly, why’d he change his mind? I don’t care if he developed a case of cold feet. You should’ve worked it for all it’s worth. You had it in the bag.”

I sigh, hesitating a moment. “I revealed something personal about myself that he didn’t particularly like.”

“What? That you’re a virgin? Guys usually eat that shit up.”

“No, I didn’t tell him I’m a virgin. It was…something else.” I rest my forehead against the wall, wishing I could disappear.

“Like what?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation with you right now.”

“We damn well are gonna have this conversation right now. What aren’t you telling me, Grey?” I hold the phone away from my ear as Erin starts yelling at me.

“Drop it, Erin.”

“No, I’m not fucking dropping it. Tell me now, or I’m calling Mom.”

“Well, it won’t do any good because she doesn’t know either.”

“Then it’s something really bad.” I hear the trepidation in Erin’s voice.

“I don’t think it is.” I have to get her to calm down.

“What? You took drugs?”

“No.”

“You killed somebody?”

“No.”

“You sold yourself for money.”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh God, Grey. What did you do?” she moans in dismay.

“I stripped at The Blue Room for a couple of months, all right? Happy now?”

“You did not.” Her voice is adamant, like she’s trying to convince herself it’s not true.

“So what if I did?”

“Jesus, Grey… Why?” I cringe, hearing just how disappointed she is in me. “Mom was going through chemo. You were caught up in all that shit with Mark. I didn’t have anyone to turn to.” I close my eyes, hating to have to rationalize my behavior.

“But you didn’t have to do something like that.”

“I know. I wasn’t thinking straight. Don’t worry. When it got a little dicey, I left.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“No.” She doesn’t need to know how the hole in my screen door came to be there.

“Well, now I feel like the world’s worst sister for not being there when you needed me.”

“You had enough to deal with.”

“Yeah, but so did you.”

“It’s over now, Erin. So don’t even think about it.” She’s not to blame. So what if at the time I was starving for attention? It’s not her fault I went looking for it in the worst place imaginable.

“Did it all come out when they said that’s where Chase was the night he was here?”

“Yeah.” I grit my teeth, remembering Chase’s reaction.

“And he flipped out?”

“Well, he didn’t want to marry me anymore, so does that answer your question?”

“What a hypocrite. What are you going—?”

But my phone shuts off mid-question, the battery completely drained. Damn it. My lifeline to Stockton is officially severed. I’m alone in this insanity now. I lean against the wall, willing myself to pull it together. But it’s too quiet. Chase isn’t talking anymore. Shit.

I whip around. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” He’s looking at me with a peculiar expression on his face.

“You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.” If he heard me say that I’m a virgin, I’m going to die. I turn around and face the wall again, unable to meet his gaze.

“We’ll talk about it later. But for now, we have to go. Noah’s outside waiting in the car.” He reaches out his hand to pull me to my feet, and I let him because I’m too unsteady to get up on my own.

“Isn’t he supposed to be with Irina?” I ask as a new wave of curious bystanders starts to edge closer to where we’re hiding out.

“That’s the problem. She went off on him at the airport, caused quite a scene. Throwing things at him and everything. He didn’t know what to do, so he split, leaving her there to fend for herself.”

“So that’s what Erin was talking about.”

“About what?”

“Apparently it’s all over the internet that she broke up with you and I’m your new girlfriend. Everything’s been leaked about me—my name, my age, where I live.”

“How could it have gotten out so fast?”

“That’s what I want to find out. You know it’s only a matter of time until they uncover my connection to The Blue Room.”

“I won’t let that happen, Grey. I swear.”

“You might not have a choice. We’re playing catch-up now. You might not be able to get ahead of the story.”

“Yeah? Just try and stop me.”

“I don’t care about it ruining my reputation. That’s the last thing on my mind. I just don’t want my mom to have to find out like this. She’s in such a fragile state and the shock of it all might—”

I stop, choking back a sob. I’m so freaking selfish for doing what I did. Taking my clothes off in front of strangers. Running to New York after Chase. I never stopped to consider the consequences of how it could affect the people that I love.

Quickly pulling me into the empty men’s room, Chase locks the door behind us to give us some privacy. We shouldn’t be doing this here. We should leave. We’re only making things worse for ourselves. But he doesn’t seem to care. He’s more worried about me.

“Tell me what’s wrong with your mom, Grey.” The warmth in his voice is the only thing sustaining me right now as it echoes through the tiny space. We should be booking it out the door, but he’s staying, concerned about someone who means the world to me.

“She has lung cancer.”

Chase’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything.

“She’s going through chemo and everything, but the doctors just don’t know. She smoked a pack a day for the last twenty years. It’s pretty bad. She’s so weak right now. I just don’t want to be the one who crushes her spirit, you know?” The tears start flowing and I can’t stop them.

He pulls me to his chest, and I bury my face in his shirt. He feels so safe, like he’ll pick up my troubles and shoulder them for me. I don’t have to bear the burden alone. He’s here for me. I can depend on him to be my strength in my moment of weakness. And I’ve never felt that way about anyone. This is what love is supposed to feel like, right?

“You could never do that, Grey. Even if your mom finds out, she’ll want to hear your side of the story. She’ll know there had to be a reason behind what you did, and once you have a chance to explain it to her, everything will be okay. I just know it.” He strokes the back of my neck, twirling the tendrils of hair that have fallen out of my bun with his fingers.

“But what if I don’t get to do that? What if she finds out and something bad happens to her before I can get back to Stockton? I mean, look at the way you reacted when you heard about what I did.” I grab his belt loops and hold on tight, afraid that he’s going to pull away from me again.

“Well, I was an idiot. I wouldn’t react that way now,” he whispers. I feel the warmth of his hands caress my back through the thin material of my shirt as he runs his thumbs back and forth over my bra strap.

“What are you saying?” I take a risk and loosen my hold on him, daring to meet his eyes.

“I’m saying you should give me another chance.” He’s looking at me so tenderly that it only makes me cry harder.

“You’re not going to ask me to marry you again, are you?”

“No, we’ll take it slow. Take our time.” He kisses my forehead, parting my bangs, causing me to laugh through my tears.

“So you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll just have to wear you down.”

“Mmmm…I kind of like the sound of that.”

“So is that a yes?” he asks with a hopeful expression on his face.

Chase wants me to be his girlfriend—his real-life, honest-to-goodness girlfriend. Not some contracted piece of arm candy. Not some meaningless one-night stand. He’s ready to acknowledge our relationship, out in the open for everyone to see. He’s no longer afraid to make it official. Despite my past, despite everything I’ve told him, he still wants to be with me. My head is spinning as I try to collect myself. “I don’t know, Chase.”

His lips trace a path down my face, and my heartbeat starts to accelerate. He rubs my nose with his, but I throw back my head, craving more. I feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, but he merely brushes his mouth across mine, teasing me. His hands are buried in my hair, holding me in place, as he untwists it and bobby pins start to ping onto the floor. He moans as the silken strands tumble onto his face, breathing me in. That does it. His tongue is in my mouth before I can even blink. I smile against his lips at his eagerness, kissing him back feverishly.

I bend my knee, sliding it up the side of his leg. He runs his hands down my body, making me groan as he hitches my leg around his waist and then the other. His knee can’t support my weight for long, so he pushes me up against the wall, digging my back into the cold, tiled surface. My nipples are straining against the lace cups of my bra, chafing against his chest as I move with him, crossing my ankles behind his back.

His hands feel hot against my skin as he starts inching my shirt up. This is it. There’s no going back now. This is really happening.

Until Chase almost drops me when someone starts banging on the door.

“I don’t care if you’re Chase fuckin’ Whitfield screwing some girl in the bathroom. I gotta take a piss. So open the goddamn door.”

Shit. Only in New York…