Page 84 of Force Play

“No, you don’t know. I might be the team puppy, the happy-go-lucky guy, but that doesn’t mean shit. My golden retriever will turn to a grizzly bear on a dime for you. Do you understand? I’m here no matter what the results say. And if it’s—I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re okay. You can’t push me away. I won’t let you.”

She presses into my hands trying to turn away.

“Not happening. Answer me.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

This isn’t over, not by a long shot. I’ve proven her wrong about how she sees me once, and I can do it again.

Standing from the chair I cross the room, wanting to finish this conversation so I can show her just how wrong she is about this. Opening the door, I stick my head into the hall, finding Dr. Smith leaning against the opposite wall.

“We’re ready for you,” I tell her, leaving the door open and rejoining Indie in the vinyl chairs that are doing nothing for me after hours on the airplane.

She takes her seat on the chair, wheeling it closer and leaning in to talk directly to Indie, and I’m immediately grateful that she found Maryann. She doesn’t sugarcoat things, she just dives back in, leading with compassion.

“If the test comes back positive, we’ll use that information to decide on additional screenings and prevention.”

Prevention. That could mean surgeries and tough decisions about Indie’s future—one I hope to be a part of. My Google search after I found her in the shower led me down a dark path of what-ifs. And while I don’t know what role Indie will allow me to play in all this, I wanted to feel equipped to support her.

If Coach Wilson hadn’t found me in the batting cages, my hands blistered, my emotions raw and given me an outlet for all my worst fears, I wouldn’t be as level-headed today. Each day after practice since, he’s been waiting with a bucket of balls. Silently supporting me as we load the machine together and he stays close in case I need an ear.

Most days I follow him to the cage and hit until I can barely lift my bat, because my arm being numb is better than me being angry or numb. Indie needs me to come through for her and I can’t show up a shell of the man she needs.

After a few more minutes of talking about what to expect and how to deal with the wait, I follow Indie out of the clinic to her car. Her fingers wrap against the door handle, but she doesn’t open it. Instead, she rests her forehead against the side of her car for a moment before she turns back toward me.

And I can see it, that same resigned look she had earlier, the way her arms cross over her chest protectively. She’s rattled. She’s shutting down.

Before she has the chance to make up an excuse or offer me an out, I step into her space, tilting her chin up. “If you’re about to give me some bullshit excuse for why this can’t work or tell me to walk away, save your breath. Listen carefully because I don’t want to repeat myself again. I’m not walking away. Nothing you can say will change that. No test results. No procedures. Nothing.”

After staring back at me with a hard expression I’m sure mirrors mine, she opens her mouth and closes it.

“Now, if you’re done trying to chase me off, I’d really like to kiss you,” I say, brushing my nose along hers and making my scary girl soft under me.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Not the resounding ‘yes’ I was hoping for, but I’ll take it.” Kissing each corner of her mouth first, I take her lips slowly. It’s tender and unlike any kiss we’ve shared, and it’s not until her fist twists my shirt, pulling me closer, that I sink inside her mouth. When our kiss is bordering on indecent, I pull back just enough to rein myself in. “Leave your car here. I’m taking you home.”

“What about me leads you to believe that I’ll respond well to being told what to do?”

“My arousal alarm is telling me you will this time.”

Heat from the huff of air she releases hits my neck. “Oh god, I’m afraid to ask,” she says.

But all the fake sass in the world can’t hide the way her pulse jumps under my palm. “You’re lying, Firecracker. You’re turned on by me telling you what to do. You crave feeling out of control, you’re an adrenaline junkie, and you want me to strip you of the need to think—take all the decisions away and let you drown in your own pleasure. You can’t run off and do something reckless with that ankle freshly healed, so let me be your danger for today.”

She licks her lips but stays silent.

“Are you getting in my car, or should I slip my hand into those shorts and prove my point?”

Pushing against my chest, she backs me up and leads the way to my car, opening the door and getting in without a word.

She doesn’t break the silence until I’m turning out of the parking lot. “Now would be a good time to channel your inner Princess Peach.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, glancing over to find her face flush with as she watches me.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll make you pull over to take the edge off in the back seat.”

“It’s cute that you still think you’re in charge here. I thought I made it clear that I’m calling the plays.”

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