“How bad is it?”
“Pretty fucking bad. Hurts like a screamin’ motherfucker too. A foul ball. Jesus, it’s pre-season. I should have let the fucker go. Better yet, I should have taken that tee time and been on the goddamn golf course while you rookies played warm-up. The doc says it’s gonna need surgery, so it looks like I’m out for the season.” Tyler cursed again under his breath. “I’ve never had a summer off. Guess I’m gonna see how the other half lives.”
“It’s lucky you weren’t hurt worse, I guess.” Garrett was at a loss as to what else to say.
“Yeah, I feel pretty fuckin’ lucky right now. Like a fuckin’ leprechaun.”
It was clear by the amount of cussing that Tyler was none too happy about it, but hell, Garrett didn’t blame him. Like himself, Tyler was a dedicated athlete who loved his sport. Garrett would go nuts if he had to watch from the sidelines, even if it were a game or two. Sitting out a whole season? Yeah, he felt for his friend.
Tyler’s injury struck a chord. What if it had been him? Sure, Garrett had a healthy bank account now, but how long would that money last if he couldn’t play ball? What the hell would he do with himself then? All it took was one injury to end a career.
Or fucking the owner’s daughter.
He had responsibilities, people he’d let down if he fucked this up. Something he was well on his way to doing if he wasn’t careful.
Shaking off his train of thought, Garrett focused on the more urgent matter at hand. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m headin’ home to Arkansas after surgery. Might as well recoup somewhere comfortable and quiet. Doc also said I’d be in physical therapy for up to twelve weeks. Maybe longer. Damn, this sucks.”
Finding himself antsy, Garrett moved around the room, inspecting the equipment, checking the contents of containers.
“You look like shit.”
Tyler’s statement stopped him dead. “This, coming from the guy on the exam table.”
“Seriously, Garrett. You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Jessa keeping you up nights?”
“We’re having a good time. You know? Playing around.” Garrett turned and leaned his ass against the counter. They were doing more than playing around, but until he knew what that meant, he’d keep the information to himself. “No big deal.”
Tyler nodded with feigned understanding. “Right,” he drawled. “See, here’s the thing, Garrett. Women like Jessa … they don’t play around. I don’t care what she says. If y’all are having sex, she’s given a piece of herself to you.” He shifted his ass on the table and sucked in a breath. “It might be a tiny piece, but it’s a piece none the same.”
“When did you become Doctor-fucking-Phil? You, the man who’s made fucking an Olympic sport. What do you know about how women feel?”
Tyler stared him dead in the eye. “It’s a fact, brother. When this thing ends — and you know it will end — you’ll take a piece of her with you. You’ll know it. She’ll know it. It’ll change both of you. What then, G?” Tyler made a disgusted noise. “You’re a fool if you think you’ll walk away from this unscathed. Either of you. I never thought you were the kind of man to play with a woman like that.”
“Who says I’m playing?” he barked before he could stop himself. “Maybe it doesn’t have to end.”
And there it was.
The thing that had been nagging Garrett all day.
He liked Jessa. She was beautiful and sweet. When she looked at him, he didn’t feel like she was sizing up his cock, or his wallet. She saw beyond the hype to the man that he was underneath. That had to count for something.
“I know you and TJ are buddies, Garrett, but Jessa … man, Jessa is his only daughter. How sure are you that he’d simply roll over and accept that you’d been fucking her?”
Not sure at all.