Page 121 of Most Valuable Players
“You’re not fine. You’re having a panic attack. And there’s no one in my bed. I left right after you.” He hands me the cup of water. “Try to take a sip or two. Sometimes forcing your brain to do something else helps.”
I do as he instructs, and the cool liquid does seem to help a tiny bit. Enough that I can better appreciate the man in front of me. He’s shirtless, his ab muscles defined even as he sits. Blue basketball shorts hang on his hips, but his bare calves press against my back.
When I finally feel the sharp edges of my fear dissipate, I finish the water and let out a long, cleansing breath. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. His arms wrap around me again and he rubs my back softly.
“For getting myself locked in and for that.” I point toward the busted door. The trim hangs away from the wall where the lock pushed it away from the frame.
“That’s nothing. Don’t even worry about it. Are you feeling better?”
I nod. “I want to go to bed.”
“Okay.” He moves his legs and groans. “I think I might be stuck.”
Standing, I offer him my hand. He smiles goofily as he places his calloused palm in mine, and I attempt to help him up. Somehow, we manage to get him upright and he’s so close my breathing picks up all over again, but for a completely different reason.
He notices and his brows furrow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“This kind of thing happen before?” he asks and then adds, “When you’ve been drinking.”
I nod, refusing to meet his concerned blue eyes. “I just need some sleep.” And to wake up and pretend this never happened.
As gracefully as one can in this situation, I step out of the tub and glance at the burned-out light bulb over the vanity. “How many hockey players does it take to change a lightbulb?”
He follows me out of the bathroom. I walk to Adam’s open bedroom and face him. “Well, this was humiliating and awful. Pretend it never happened?”
His lips twist into a playful smile and he reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Night, Ginny.”
In Adam’s room I flip the overhead light on and shut the door. And then I climb into bed and somehow sleep through the night.
When I wake up, Adam is on the couch sleeping with Taryn curled up next to him. The rest of the house is quiet. I tiptoe to the bathroom and reach for the light before I remember. Except this time, the bathroom floods with light and the doorframe is fixed.
It turns out it only takes one hockey player to change a light bulb, and I have a very good idea which one it was.
10
HEATH
I’m lying in bed fully dressed when Maverick sticks his head in my room. “Time to stop touching yourself and go get fondled by the elderly instead.”
I sit up and swing my legs onto the floor.
“Was that Mariah I heard while I was playing Xbox with Rauthruss?” he questions, dark eyebrows raised and a playful smile on his lips.
“It’s weird when you listen in, man.”
“Just looking out for you.”
“How thoughtful.”
We meet the rest of the team at the assisted living home. Coach’s mom lives here. As such, this is where a good portion of our community service hours are done. At least once a semester, he drags us out here. Today we’re doing some outdoor landscaping. Manual labor shit that sucks balls, but in truth, I enjoy it more than going inside the place.
It smells like old people, which makes sense, but I don’t need reminders that we are all going to die and, if we are lucky, get to stink up the world on our way out. I learned that lesson the hard way when my dad died at forty-one. He didn’t even get a chance to enjoy that mothball and shit stench. He’d gone out looking fit and healthy and smelling like Acqua di Gio. I was fourteen and thought he was invincible.
Desert Rose is a massive place. So many residents that I have to wonder if there are any old people left in Valley who aren’t living here. The grounds are well cared for, flowers and shrubs trimmed to make Mother Nature look like a Monet painting.
