“You can ask Jack to be your escort,” she pushed, her eyebrows bobbing.
“Stop it,” I ordered and closed my eyes. Ace would be at the wedding, of course, so I wouldn’t take a date out of respect. I wondered if he’d offer the same courtesy.
Another shadow formed over our lounge chairs. I looked up to see Calvin standing there. “How are you ladies doing?” he asked and bent to give Whitney a long kiss.
“Great. How was practice after…?” I didn’t finish the sentence. The entire team took the loss to the Yankees hard yesterday. Ace had done nothing but sit in the room and drink, only coming out of his fog to make love to me twice before taking some sort of pills and going to sleep early.
Calvin didn’t have time to answer because young girls started squealing when they recognized who was in their presence. He kissed Whitney again before turning and signing slips of papers thrust out at him from every direction The look on his face said all we needed to know about practice. It wasn’t good.
Calvin signed the autographs and then pulled Whitney and me inside to get away from the screaming girls. “I wanted to talk to you about Ace,” he said.
My heart sank. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s on a downward spiral, and I don’t want him to take you down with him.”
I gripped his arm. “What do you mean?”
He blew out a breath. “I mean he’s fucking himself up, and it’s getting worse.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you know he’s been using?”
Using what?
Then it hit me… drugs. Calvin thought Ace was using drugs. I blinked rapidly, and everything began to make more sense. Ace’s highs and lows. His wild energy. His deep depression.
“I’ve seen drugs at parties,” I admitted, “but nothing since I got here. He took some pills last night to sleep, but I don’t know what they were…”
Was I so foolish that I didn’t see what was in front of me?
Whitney’s mouth was hanging open, her eyes glaring into mine. “Have you taken any of those drugs?”
“No,” I said quickly, shuddering at the idea. “Do you think it’s more than occasional? Do you think he has a real problem?”
And if he did, how could I leave him? How could I stay?
“Yes.”
“Rhett’s flying in today. He needs to keep his nose clean.” Calvin leaned against the wall in the long hallway where we stood. “In fact, Rhett mentioned he wanted to see you before you leave, Whitney.” He smiled like it was no big deal.
I loved their relationship, but it still confused me so badly. Rhett had been attracted to Whitney at one time. The fact that Calvin didn’t seem to mind Whitney working on redesigning his downtown offices showed just how much trust they had in one another.
A group of people who looked like tourists came down the hallway, and we moved out of the way and got onto the elevator. I felt like a trapped mouse in the metal box. I didn’t know where to go. What to do.
“You want to get dressed and go have dinner?” Whitney asked me, her hand rubbing up and down my arm.
“Sure.” I hid my stress with a smile.
The elevator stopped on the fourteenth floor, and Whitney and Calvin got off. I hit twenty-five and took a deep breath. The doors opened, and I stepped into the hallway, pulling out the keycard to open the door.
And froze.
The room looked like a hurricane had hit it, clothes strewn everywhere. Ace was pulling cushions off of the couch, tossing them against the wall.
I wasn’t sure what to do or say, so I stood there, watching him pull at this hair as he paced the room. He turned and saw me, and a million emotions crossed his face.
Stepping inside the room, I closed the door softly behind me and tossed my bag on a table. Ace hadn’t moved. His eyes hadn’t left me, but his face was now carefully blank.
“Looking for something?” I asked lightly, deeply afraid I now knew what he was searching for.
My words seemed to break his paralysis because he lowered his hands and looked around. “Yeah, my keys.”
The lie was like a knife, but I ignored the pain and looked at the table. I picked up the key. “Found it.”
Shame swept over his features, then he turned away and paced to the wall of windows, looking out onto the sunny, beautiful day. I laid the key back down and went to stand beside him, careful not to get too close.
“I heard practice was a bitch today,” I said, trying to chip through the block of ice between us.
“I had a hell of a day if that’s any consolation.” He laughed. It was his nervous laugh.
“That’s great.”
Silence settled around us as I stared at the waves breaking onto the sand. In. Out. Over and over, as if the ocean was breathing, giving life to the land.
“I’m going home,” I told him before I could talk myself out of it. “Back to New York.”
His face turned pale, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the glass. When he didn’t say anything, I turned away, looking around the mess the room had become.
“You need help, Ace,” I said softly and walked over to replace the cushions on the couch and chairs.
“I really don’t need a lecture right now.”
The sharpness of his tone left a wound in my heart, but I ignored it. I’d already known he wouldn’t take this conversation well. I bent to pick up another cushion, then dropped it when his arms circled around me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. And I knew he was.
I remembered how often my dad apologized to my mother, but things never changed. She loved him no matter how bad his behavior became. I didn’t want to be like that.
Leaning back against his muscular chest, I murmured, “I want to help you. We all do.” I wasn’t sure that was exactly true. But it was true on my part.
“Why?”
I turned. He needed to be looking at me when I said this, and I needed to be looking at him. “Because I love you, Ace.” The words trembled, as if they were afraid to meet air. It was the first time I’d said those words to him, and possibly the last.
He lowered his head until our foreheads were pressed together, his breath warm against my face. “I don’t know why you love me.”
I wasn’t really certain of that myself.
“That’s why we have to talk.”
He lifted his head, gazing into my eyes. It was like the windows to his soul had been opened. That scared little boy, the one afraid to fail was standing in front of me right now. He needed me. He needed someone. I had to be strong enough to love him, without being in love with him.
“It’s Jack, isn’t it?” His words were soft, holding no accusation.
“No. It’s not Jack. It’s not anyone.”
He let me go and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a drink. I wanted to tell him to stop but didn’t dare. He tossed the drink back, then poured another before turning to face me.
“I wouldn’t blame you. He’s a good guy. A nice guy.” He set the drink down and pushed his thick, dark hair from his face and held his hands on the top of his head as he let out a growl. “Calvin told me you wanted a family. A life. He told me I wasn’t good enough for you.”
Such pain. It seemed to seep from his every pore.