All In_ Paying to Play(26)

"Jake, are you okay?" I ask softly. His hanging head shakes in the negative. "Is it something you ate? Or the flu?" He shakes his head again. "Then what's wrong?"

"I told you to stay home," he says without looking at me. I'm hurt and completely at a loss as to why my being here makes him physically ill.

"Jerry told my dad I needed to be here," I reply in my defense.

"Fuck Jerry and fuck Satan," he mutters, making me cringe since I know he's talking about my dad.

"I wish you wouldn't talk about my dad that way."

"Yeah, well, I wish you weren't here right now," he mumbles when he reaches for some toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

"God, Jake. Why do you have to be such a jerk? I'm here, so what? Did I mess up your night of fucking some sluts?"

"No."

"Then what's your problem?" I ask in frustration.

"I don’t want to lose you," he answers softly.

"Lose me?" I echo.

"I don't let my brothers travel for any away games."

He doesn't let his brothers come to his away games? He doesn't want to lose me? Oh no! His parents. They died in a car wreck leaving Atlanta after seeing Jake play. And now he's superstitious, worried the same will happen to his brothers if they travel. Or me. Jake didn't want me to come here today because he cares about me. He's having an anxiety attack, worried that something bad will happen to me.

I kneel down and wrap my arms around him, resting my cheek on his back. He stiffens up for a few seconds before relaxing again, his heart racing underneath my palm.

"God, Addy. I miss them so damn much," he says, his voice shaking almost as much as his muscular body.

"I'm sorry," I say, even though I know it's inadequate.

"They would've liked you."

"You think?" I ask with a smile.

"Yeah. They couldn't wait for us to settle down, so they could have daughter-in-laws and grandkids. Now though…my brothers and I won't ever be able to share either with them."

My eyes water, thinking how much it'd hurt if I lost my parents. For them to miss my wedding. My kids never meeting them, knowing them, having their love.

"All because of me," he says. "They died wearing my jersey." Tears overflow from my eyes when silent sobs rack his body from the incredible guilt he's wrongly put on himself.

"It's not your fault," I tell him. "Jake, listen to me. It wasn't your fault. It was a car wreck that could've happened anywhere, even on their way to a home game. They lost their lives because of a drunk driver that shouldn't have been on the road. Blame him."

Jake doesn't say anything for a while and neither do I. The bathroom door opens and closes a few times, but no one comes back to the stall.

"I need to get out of my head," he finally says, grabbing my hand that's still around his waist. "I need a distraction to make the pain go away."

At first I think he's pushing me away, but then he runs my palm up underneath his shirt, over his washboard abs, and shudders. Just like that, everything changes. Tears are forgotten, along with the fact that we're on a bathroom floor. All that matters is the lust growing between us, his back against my chest suddenly warming, the heat spreading through my entire body. I run my fingertips over the ridges of his muscle definition and it's so incredible I slide my other hand up his shirt as well. I rub that one along the waistline of his jeans, dipping low enough to know he's not wearing any boxers.

"I need you, Addy."

"Yes," I agree against his back. "We should, um, we should probably go up to your room."

Jake nods, so I pull away from him and get to my feet. I give him some space and go wait for him at the door. When he comes out he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to him and lifting my feet off the ground. I laugh at his caveman move as he hauls me to the hotel elevator. After we get on with a few other guests, Jake presses a floor number. On the way up he looks at me silently while his hand slides down the back of my jeans, unnoticed by the other guests since we're against the wall.

"Nice jersey," he says into the quiet space, making necks turn when he draws everyone's attention.

"Thanks," I respond. Friday after work I went to our local sports store and picked up his name and number in a black woman's jersey to wear to tonight's game.

"It'll be even nicer when that's all you're wearing."

My cheeks warms in embarrassment that everyone just heard his comment.

"Oh, so is that what it takes to get an autograph?" I joke.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks, but you're gonna have to get completely naked for that."

I smile and shake my head, covering my face, unable to believe he'd say all that in front of random people. The man has no filter whatsoever.