Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Eight

Lainey

Six weeks later, another hotel room, and Nick’s last regular season game has arrived. He took me the minute he arrived in the room, right up against the door with all of our clothes on.

The second time was in the bathroom as he tried to pound me through the tile. I might have bruises tomorrow in the pattern of the grout lines.

We’ve settled into a strange routine. Nick sends me tickets to every away game and a post it note with the name of the hotel he’s staying at. A room key is waiting for me at the front desk. He always gets a suite. Sometimes we have sex, but sometimes we don’t.

The stress of the season is getting to him. With each win, he seems to wind tighter and tighter. The last time we were together, he was almost cruel during our lovemaking, as if he was trying to pound all his fears and anxiety out on my body. But I take it, and him, because I’ve come to acknowledge that I love him.

I hide that knowledge as best I can. He doesn’t welcome it. Despite our physical closeness, there’s a distance between us now that is growing with each encounter. It’s almost as if he hates that I’m here, hates that he needs me.

“I was talking to Charlie before I flew out and she was saying how much she missed Cassidy. You haven’t seen much of her?”

Or maybe he hates the secrecy.

“I only go into Dallas on the rare occasion; otherwise, I wouldn’t have time for this.” I make a small wave toward the room with my hairbrush.

He looks up from his bag of unbuttered popcorn. “You can’t bring Cassidy with you to see Charlie?”

“She’s in school,” I say, dragging the brush through my hair.

He snorts. “If you say so.”

I slam the brush down. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I think it’s pretty clear that you don’t want anyone to know about us. That means no trips to Dallas with Cassidy, no bringing her here to see the game, even though she loves being around the team, and no telling Charlie where you’re sneaking off to.”

“Like you’re in a hurry to tell Charlie that you’re sneaking me into a hotel room under an assumed name for every road game like I’m some traveling rent-a-pussy!” I regret the words the minute they leave my mouth.

“Jesus,” Nick breathes. “Is that how you feel?”

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry.” With a shaking hand, I pick up the brush again and slowly start to pull it down my scalp. “Things are stressful at home. I shouldn’t have said that, and I don’t feel that way.”

He stares at me before asking. “Then if you don’t feel that way, why don’t you come to Dallas next week? If we win tomorrow, there’s a first round bye in my future.”

I want to say yes, but I can’t. Every time I meet up with Nick, I’m terrified Chip is going to see me. If I go to a game and sit with the family members, I know word would get back to him. And then everything I’ve sacrificed will be for nothing.

But I see challenge in his eyes. Either I come to Dallas next week or it’s over. I get to my feet and start packing my things.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

He runs a ragged hand through his hair. “It looks like you’re leaving.”

“Aren’t my choices either come to Dallas next weekend with Cassidy or we’re done?” I’m surprised at how even my voice is, how I’m not completely breaking down.

His nostrils flare and the big hands that hold me so tenderly are fists at his side. I watch as a muscle in his jaw flexes. When he says nothing, I finish gathering my things.

At the door, I turn back. “You’re going to win this year. I feel it in my bones. You care about your teammates. I know you’d die for them out on that field.”

“Wanting things doesn’t make them happen,” he grinds out.

“No, but you’ve been training and practicing and studying for these moments. It’s not like you’re going out on that field with nothing but wishes and hopes.” I wait at the door for one breath and then two.

His lips part. His chest rises. I think he’s going to say something—

A knock at the door startles the both of us. Nick strides over and whips open the door.

And my heart stops.

Chip has his hand raised as if he’s about to knock again. His eyes dart from me to my bag and back to Nick who’s wearing sweatpants, a t-shirt and no socks. Nick’s damn naked feet give us away.

Chip’s eyes light up with unholy glee.

“What do you want?” Nick barks out.

“Having a little tryst are you?” Chip says, shoving one hand into a pocket. The other is folded around a DVD case. “Coach wanted me to run some film by you before the game tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Nick says flatly. He holds out his hand but Chip makes no move to hand over the film.

“You know it’s against the rules to be in any other room than your own,” Chip says mildly.

“Lainey is—“

“I’m a—“

“I know what you are,” Chip sneers.

Nick turns to me with confusion on his face. “Do you know Chip?”

My heart is beating so loud and fast it’s a wonder I can hear anything other than the riotous pulse of my own blood. Dimly, I stare at Chip, wondering what he’s going to say. I’ve broken my end of the bargain, and he’s going to make me pay.

The only question is how.

 

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