3. Harlowe
CHAPTER 3
HARLOWE
A s I stood on Brooks’s doorstep, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that I should just leave. If I didn’t show up, I could make an excuse. No one would blame me. Hell, Brooks probably didn’t even want me there. Maybe I was sick. My stomach really didn’t feel well at the moment.
If I never knocked, maybe he wouldn’t know I’d been here in the first place.
At this point, I’d produce vomit if I had to and it wouldn’t even take that much effort. I’d barely eaten breakfast this morning, as the acid churning inside of me and my nerves told me this wasn’t a good idea.
Now it was churning for a few reasons, including the fact that I was hungry as hell.
The fact that I’d never gotten over this stupid crush on Brooks irritated me as well. It should’ve been long gone, yet I still got dumb butterflies every single time I saw him. It had started when I’d been in high school and I guarantee he’d barely looked at me once at that time. Now I was an adult and I couldn’t get my brain or… other parts of my body to calm the hell down when he was around. What if that got worse with the two of us together, alone, for three days? Even if I wasn’t staying the night, I’d still be here.
All day.
Maybe taking him to rehab. It was his right knee. He wasn’t supposed to drive.
Damn, damn, damn. I was so dumb for agreeing to this.
The only thing that kept me from ever making a move was Camden. She’d gotten some shitty treatment over the years and I’d vowed to never be part of that. I’d spent this time distracting me with men who weren’t much of a distraction.
That was it. I just had to remind myself about Camden. That and the fact that this was Brooks Briggs, who could probably have any woman he wanted and he’d never want me, so there was that frosty reminder.
I took a deep breath and blew it out as I finally rang the doorbell.
“Come in,” he called out, causing me to open the door and step in.
Brooks’s house was big. Bigger than the place where I’d grown up because my parents didn’t want a lot of things around them. Things kept them tied down. Which translated to I kept them tied down, but it certainly wasn’t the size of Camden’s and Brooks’s parents’ house. That thing was massive. With his salary, he could afford the same or bigger, but it was just him, so why would he need something huge?
There was a small entry hallway that had stairs on the left side, a room with the door closed at the bottom and a room on the right side, which was the living room and where Brooks was on the couch with his leg propped up on a pillow with an ice pack on top of it.
“Hey,” I said, for some reason sounding out of breath.
“I wondered how long it was going to be before you actually rang the bell,” he said. I furrowed my eyebrows as he waved his phone at me. “Doorbell camera.”
I bit my lips together and tried to tamper down the heat rising in my chest. He’d been able to see everything I’d been doing out there. All of my battle with myself.
Damn it.
“Yeah, well, I had to convince myself to come in. Wasn’t sure I wanted to help you.”
As I set my purse on the coffee table, he chuckled. “You don’t have to,” he told me. “This is Camden’s idea.”
Brooks had wide shoulders that looked much wider with all of his gear on and dark hair that was a mess like he hadn’t bothered with it today. He probably hadn’t. He wasn’t used to not going anywhere. He was also wearing gray sweatpants—it’d take almost no time on the internet to figure out what that meant—and a T-shirt. Very laid-back, but he made everything look so damn good.
“Yeah, well, she knows all of her brothers are idiots who need their hands held.” I pushed my hair back off my shoulders, suddenly wishing I’d put it up. It’d at least be cooler.
“Are you going to hold my hand, Sunshine?” He smirked, but I shook my head. I couldn’t let him affect me.
“No, but I will help you with most things.” I held up a hand so I could tick off each finger as I went. “I won’t help you shower.” Even if that was a sight I wanted to see. “I won’t be wiping your ass, and I won’t clear out any women who may drop by. They show up, I go. That’s it.”
He pinched his face together in confusion. “Why would a knee injury keep me from using the bathroom on my own?”
I held up my hands. “No idea, but I thought you should know what I won’t do.”
“And those are the only things you won’t do?” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.
The way he said it caught me off guard. He was talking about me helping him while my brain went in a totally different direction. Maybe I needed regular sex in my life so I wouldn’t be a wound-up horn dog just because I was around him.
“Yup.” I quickly wet my lips. A woman being there would send me off quicker than wiping his ass, to be truthful. “So, what do you need done?” It took everything in me to not visibly cringe at that question.
He chuckled. “Nothing. Really. I’m fine.”
But he wasn’t. He was hurt and I was doing a friend a favor.
“What about meds? You’re on pain meds, right? When did you last take them or when are you due?” I pulled the small notebook out of my purse. I’d grabbed that for this reason. It was important to track medication. I did this even for myself when I was sick to ensure I didn’t accidentally double up on medication.
“I can take care of it myself.”
I scoffed. “So if you’re fine and all of that, why don’t you do those stairs? Go on, Mr. I’m Totally Fine.”
Brooks swung his leg off the couch and grabbed his crutches, though I hadn’t intended for him to actually do it. When he got too close to the stairs I hurried over in front of him and put my hands on his chest.
“No. Don’t do the stairs.”
“‘Do the stairs,’” he said holding his hands like scales and transfer the non-existent weight from one to the other. “‘Don’t do the stairs.’ You need to make up your mind, Sunshine.”
“You’ll kill yourself.
“I’ll be fine. I did them last night and then this morning.”
“Why?” My eyes widened.
“Bed.”
“Sleep on the couch.”
“Fuck that,” he countered. “I’m too big to sleep on the couch.” And he wasn’t joking. He was like six-two and broad shouldered. I could see how the couch would be uncomfortable.
“Could you please just tell me when you took your pain medication?” I looked up at him and all the playfulness left his eyes.
“It was an hour ago.”
“Thank you.”
He hobbled back over to the couch and sat back down, though he winced as he did so. I went to pick up the bag of ice, but it was completely melted now.
“I’ll get you a new ice pack,” I told him as I headed to the kitchen.
“Thanks, yeah. I do need that and I probably didn’t need the pain meds, but the doctor said to take them on schedule for inflammation.”
I rolled my eyes, though he wouldn’t see it. “Yup. Big, tough man doesn’t need pain meds. Got it.”
His chuckle sent a shiver up my spine and my hands were still burning from where I’d touched him.
That cockiness was part of the reason I both wanted to climb him like a tree and another reason that I’d never tried to be with him.
After filling the ice pack with ice, I took a calming breath then went back out to the living room. Instead of putting it on his leg myself, I handed it off to him.
“Listen,” I told him. “As long as I’m here, we’re following the doctor’s orders. Got it?”
Brooks didn’t answer right away, but then he nodded. “Got it, but you probably wouldn’t want to know that I was at a baseball field helping my brothers’ girlfriends learn how to hit a ball yesterday morning. Except Amity. She already knew.”
“Who allowed that?”
“I did. My brothers were all there.”
“You’re all a bunch of idiots.” I shook my head and scowled. “It’s almost like your entire career isn’t dependent on you following the doctor’s orders. Now.” I slapped my hands together. “I’m hungry. We need to get lunch.”
Because it was what I wanted, we ordered burgers to be delivered. Brooks grumbled about it, but I told him I’d get him something else. He was the one who didn’t want to go through the extra trouble. For someone who didn’t want to be a bother, he was a huge pain in my ass, but for dinner, he insisted that we cook—chicken and roasted potatoes with vegetables—and as we were both in the kitchen, the closeness almost became too much.
The man smelled so good. I wouldn’t be able to describe it if I tried and it was probably the soap he used, but every time he came close enough, I was hit with it and the aroma went to the far-reaching lady places inside of me.
“Would you stop?” I asked him.
He furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Helping.” I reached out to pull his hands away from the shelf he was trying to get plates from. “You can’t walk over there with your crutches and plates.”
“I’m sure I could.”
To try to suppress the frustrated groan that wanted to come out of me, I breathed out my nose and put my hands on my hips. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” he said quickly as his gaze jumped to mine though he’d never admit to liking my presence here.
“Then stop so I can do what I’m here to do. Go sit down.” It made me feel like the lunch lady at school to point at the table, but he was being an obstinate child.
“Fine.” He sighed then hobbled over there. One thing was for sure: he was pretty good at using those crutches.
Finally, I was able to pull the chicken out of the oven as well as the roasted potatoes and vegetables. He was a much better cook than I was. Or rather, he took the time, whereas I might’ve microwaved leftover pizza. I’d done the physical cooking, but he’d told me how he’d wanted it.
The issue was more that I didn’t have a reason to cook much. Just for myself? No, thanks.
Once I’d gotten both plates to the table, I took a seat kitty-corner from him as his leg stretched out straight under the table.
“So, what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?” I asked before taking my first bite.
“I have to get to the field. Meet with a trainer. Then watch the game. This is boring as fuck,” he told me, then he took a bite of his own.
“You’re calling me ‘boring’?” I raised my eyebrows. “That’s not very nice.”
His eyes widened. “No,” he said, even though he had food in his mouth. “Not you. Not playing is what’s boring.”
“Yeah. I get that.” Because this was what he’d always done and I had to assume he loved it. If something happened and I didn’t get Cleats & Kegs, I’d be crushed. It would be so much because not only was it my dream, but it was also my plan. It could’ve been a huge advantage buying from my parents but for me, it wasn’t. It was a hinderance. I needed that to not have to rely on anyone else. Since I hadn’t gone to college, what else would I do? “So, what time? I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t—”
I rolled my eyes as I continued eating, which cut him off and made him rethink what he was going to say.
“Ten,” he told me. There was a moment where neither of us were speaking before he asked, “Why are you doing this, Harlowe? I’m a big boy. I can handle this.”
“I’m sure you can,” I said, using the voice I used when I wanted someone to know that I didn’t believe them. “No, really,” I said more seriously. “I have no doubt that if I weren’t here, you’d make it work, but you don’t have to. I’m here. Camden wanted you to have help for the three days that they’re gone, so I’m here.” Even if every moment was a little bit like torture. “And since I’m here, you might as well use me.”
The control it took to fight off a visible cringe when what I realized what I’d said should’ve been studied by medical science.
I’d just told Brooks to use me. Clearly, I’d meant as help due to his injury, but it could be taken in a totally different way. Knowing Camden’s brothers, it probably would have been, but somehow by the grace of the gods, Brooks let it go.
“I appreciate it.”
All I did was nod because opening my mouth had proven to be a little dangerous.
Two more days and I’d be able to go back to just seeing him randomly in groups or on the baseball field.
The next morning, I was at his house, ringing the bell at nine-thirty. He’d said he had to be at the field at ten, so here I was.
“I’m coming.” His deep voice rang out from inside the house right before the door opened.
Brooks’s dark hair was neat and he was wearing a black T-shirt with khaki shorts along with tennis shoes, looking nothing like a baseball player, honestly. Yet he still had the body of one.
I thought about offering to help him get in the car but he would’ve scoffed so I waited until I could take his crutches and put them in the back before hurrying around the car to get in the driver’s seat.
When we got to the field, I made sure he got inside all right and then I waited in the car. He said he’d text me when he was ready to come out.
I was only in the car a minute before I decided to run across the street to check on Cleats & Kegs. Everything was running smoothly there, almost like they didn’t even need me, which filled me with pride.
If I hadn’t done all the work I had over the last three years, the place wouldn’t be so independent.
In the end, it took over an hour, but then my phone dinged with a message from him saying he was done. I got to the door where I’d dropped him off before he came out, but when he did, he hurried over to me, taking giant steps with his crutches like he was trying to prove something.
“All right,” I said as I pulled away. “We’re watching the All-Star Game tonight?” He nodded. “So, we need game-night food, right?
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Uh, chips, dip… I don’t know. You’re health-conscious, so a veggie tray? Fruit? What do you snack on?”
“You don’t want to know,” he told me and I wasn’t sure if he was being funny or if it was something gross that I would think is weird.
“All right. Well, are you good on those crutches?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then let’s go to the store. Be warned, though. I’m buying some candy.”
I didn’t take us to the store closest to where we were, but the one closest to his house. That way, no matter what we bought, it wouldn’t melt by the time we got back there.
It was July in Michigan, which equaled hot and muggy.
At the store, I pushed the cart while he hobbled around on his crutches. I didn’t even offer him a motorized scooter. He’d never go for it.
I’ll be honest, I had no idea how the guys played baseball in this heat and especially Brooks with all the extra equipment. So I decided to ask. These three days were the only ones I’d have just him and me to ask anything. When we were all together, I tried not to interact with him too much.
“How do you play in this kind of heat with all that equipment?” I asked before adding, “And also, why are you walking by putting weight on your knee?” It wasn’t full weight on his knee, but he was putting some there.
“The trainer said I could start to put some weight on it,” he said. When I eyed him suspiciously, he shook his head. “Seriously. You want to call him?”
After thinking about it, I decided that was probably a little too much. “No. I’ll trust you. After all, it’s your career if you fuck it up.”
“You’re right. I’m not going to do anything to fuck up my career. He said to start with light weight. Walk with the crutches, but use the knee. It’s a mild strain.”
“Like I said, I’ll trust you on that.”
We turned down the aisle that had cookies and I dropped a bag of Mega Stuf Oreos into the front area, where I was putting my things. If I was going to be snacking tonight, I needed cookies and the game started at eight, but knowing Brooks, he’d be watching all the pregame shows, so who knew when it would start?
“As for how I play in the heat with all the gear… I’m used to it. And I stay hydrated.”
Yeah, I supposed that was how you’d do it, but to me, it sounded like a special kind of torture.
We continued shopping until we had all kinds of snacks, mostly of the healthy variety. A vegetable tray, a fruit tray, some meat and cheese for sandwiches. No need to make a full meal like we had last night. No, no. He was lucky I wasn’t putting more garbage in there.
When we got to the front, he unloaded the basket of the cart then stepped forward. When I put the divider down, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Separating your stuff from mine?” Though that should’ve been obvious.
He shook his head. “Put your shit up there.”
“I’ve got—”
He sighed. “Harlowe, you’re doing Camden—and I guess me—a favor right now, so put it up there and let me pay for it.”
So I did, which was hard for me because I was used to paying my own way and it was only because I didn’t think he’d let me out of it. I’d hear about it until forever.
Once he’d paid, we got back to his house and unpacked everything with plenty of time before the game. He decided to go for a swim because it was good for his knee and he had an amazing pool. I hadn’t brought my suit, so he told me to go home and get it. I took a pass. Being out there with him was probably the worst idea so instead, I watched him from the kitchen window like a creeper.
Brooks was full of hard muscle as he carefully got himself into he pool. I probably should’ve offered to help but that would’ve put me too close to him. As it was, I had a hard time keeping from checking him out. But I did. I watched the sunshine off his wet skin as he swam from one end of the pool to the other. He didn’t go fast—there was no race to win—but he did laps and I swear I had to wipe the drool away.
It was an easy afternoon and I was right. He wanted to get all set up to start watching pregame shows by six.
I changed out of my jean shorts into comfortable, cotton ones, and a T-shirt, but I left my hair up in the bun. The air got hot sometimes even in his air conditioning. Didn’t even care that pieces of hair were falling around my face. Every other time I’d been around Brooks, I’d worried about how I’d looked.
Now I didn’t.
Hopefully, that meant a shift in my feelings because having them for him, even if it was just lust, was annoying as hell.
He changed into athletic shorts, the kind he probably worked out in, and a white T-shirt, yet somehow, everything looked sexy on him.
I made Brooks sit on the couch while I got him an ice pack, then I brought all of our snacks out onto the coffee table. Since he had his leg taking up most of the cushions, I sat on the floor with my back against the chair near his head. I could’ve sat in the chair, but this would make it easier for me to hand him things or make up his plate since he needed to sit with that ice pack on.
Which was the first thing I did. I only gave him what he’d asked for and he didn’t ask for a cookie, which I didn’t understand. What good was living if you didn’t eat a cookie now and then? Though I knew all the guys did this during the season. They’d loosen up once it ended.
We talked about baseball things I had no idea about. Things I didn’t even know what to question. It was behind-the-scenes stuff that wouldn’t have been obvious to me being at the games when I’d been growing up.
Then the sportscaster talked about Brooks and how he was supposed to have been there and that it would’ve been historic with all the brothers on the same team. They had all been in the All-Star Game last year but had been playing for different teams at the time because one of them had been in the National League last year.
Brooks sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Does that bother you?” I asked him. “That they talk about you not being there?”
“Nope.” Sure sounded like it did. “What bothers me is not being there.”
Watching the game with a player was intense. I’d just be sitting there and he’d yell out something that I hadn’t even seen, making me jump. Brooks wasn’t like this with everything. For example, they watched football, or at least used to, and never yelled at the TV once that I’d ever heard. I thought it was more that he knew this game so well from all sides that his passion increased.
Have to say, I didn’t hate it.
After cleaning up the food once the game had ended—his brothers had won, which meant their league got home-field advantage when it came time for the World Series—I told him I’d see him tomorrow.
Spending this time with Brooks had turned out to be easier than I’d thought it’d be. I just had to get over my schoolgirl crush so that we could have an easy, friendly relationship.