The Storm Inside (6 page)

I hated her professional opinion.

“Whatever,” I muttered gulping some more wine. It was starting to do its job—the warm fuzzies were reaching my brain. “Then he explained to me what he wanted.”

I paused there because I knew Jennie was going to agree with Jake. I didn’t want to hear her positive take on things.

Jennie swung her legs around and sat up, “Spit it out!”

I grumbled for a moment before giving in, “He says he’s not going away until I am absolutely sure I don’t love him anymore. He says otherwise the doubts will keep eating at me.”

Yep, Jennie was grinning like a fool. I rolled my eyes and grabbed for the dark chocolate.

“Eve… he’s being smart. You never really moved on… don’t sell me any crap about Sebastian. I’m your best friend, I know the difference between love and contentment.”

My eyes flicked over to her blue ones, “Maybe contentment is what I should be looking for.”

Her face fell, the blue of her eyes deepening a shade or two, and a frown pulling down on her delicate lips, “No, it’s not. You, of all people, do not need a content relationship. You need someone as passionate as you are. Someone who can keep up with you and handle your crazy.”

That stopped me in my tracks. I paused mid chew, the saliva pooling under my tongue until I had no choice but to swallow. “Are you suggesting I find a man who can
handle
me?”

Jennie tried not to smile, really she did, but the more she fought it the more she giggled until she simply gave in and doubled over in laughter. At me.

“This isn’t funny!”

She looked up at me, still laughing, “Oh yes it is!”

I huffed, “Seriously, this isn’t helping me!”

Jennie stopped laughing immediately and sat up, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye and taking a deep breath. “No, I know it’s not. I apologize.” She grabbed her glass and took a sip, taking another deep breath before looking back at me with a calm and serious expression. “I am not suggesting you need a handler, that came out all wrong. But I do think you need someone who understands you. Sebastian never understood you—he tolerated you. He was amused by your quirks, he indulged them, but he didn’t
get
them. You will never, ever be happy with someone like him.”

She was right. That was why I ended things with him. The lack of excitement and passion in our relationship had felt like drowning. I needed air. And for me, air involved someone who needed adventure and was willing to die for the things he cared about. I needed the male version of Jennie. “Maybe you and I should just give up on men and get married to each other?”

Now Jennie frowned, “Don’t take this the wrong way sweetie, but you are
so
not my type. Not even a little bit.”

Well, she couldn’t blame me for trying.

With my lecture complete, Jennie swung her feet back up onto the lounger and leaned back with her wine. “I think you should spend some time with Jake. Not anything that makes you uncomfortable, maybe in a group setting. Give yourself a safe place to get to know him again.”

I hated when she said something smart like that. Because the truth was I did want to spend time with him. As much as it terrified me, and as sure as I was that Jake was the embodiment of pain, I desperately wanted to be near him. I wanted to know who he had become.

“Fine.”

I saw her smile out of the corner of my eye, “He left all of us behind, you know. It would be nice if the whole gang could see him, get a chance to catch up.”

“You told them?”

She sighed; I could hear the exasperation in her voice. My inability to deal with the Jake situation was driving her crazy. “Yes I told them. They were… excited to hear he was back and doing well, but they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. They all agreed to wait and see what happened with you. We love you.”

Intellectually I knew all of this, but my brain was having trouble seeing things clearly. “Fine, if a situation presents itself for Jake to come see the gang, I will make it happen… per doctor’s orders.”

“Good. Now drink,” she commanded.

***

I wandered into the suite owned by my family at The Trop. It was empty. My parents never came up for games and none of my friends had asked to use it tonight, which wasn’t unusual. Wednesday night games weren’t the most popular with the working crowd.

But this was my job. Baseball wasn’t just what I did forty hours a week; it was in my blood. I’d grown up on the fields. Dugouts were my playhouses; clubhouses were where I’d steal buckets full of pink Bubalicious Bubble Gum and sunflower seeds. The guys were my secondary fathers and ‘uncles’, their wives watched over my sisters and I as we got lost under bleachers collecting whatever we could find in our empty Bubalicious Bubble Gum buckets. When there were other kids, they were our cohorts in trouble.

Having the light dusting of clay on my clothes and skin was comforting. So was the bizarre mix of hot dogs, popcorn, and beer. I loved the sound of the crowd and the crack of the bat.

I’d been an ok softball player, nothing great. Not like my sister Cassandra. She played through college and even piddled around professionally before hopping over to the corporate side like me.

Working in the industry was a given for us. Our dad was a legend. “Papa Joe” Daniels had been a celebrated third baseman for the Twins before switching sides and becoming a scout. He had a natural talent for identifying a player who could handle himself on the field with a booing crowd, bases loaded, two strikes, and the game riding on their shoulders.

Joe joined the Rays when they became an expansion team. My dad was a favorite with fans as a father figure, carefully watching over his recruits and guiding their careers. It was how he’d gotten his nickname.

I looked out over the crowd—my crowd—and enjoyed being alone with my thoughts. Jake now occupied them all the time, even during working hours. I had to give it to him; his plan was working brilliantly. I hated he was manipulating me so easily. But I liked his logic. We both needed to know without any doubts. There was no more room in my life for regrets.

I’d rather he just stayed away, and I had a strong suspicion that if asked him to, he would. But he’d already done the damage, planting those seeds of doubt deep inside my brain. If I asked him to leave me alone I’d hear his voice in the back of my head, years from now, whispering
are you sure?

Damn him!
Damn him to hell and back.

And damn Jennie for agreeing with him. I felt outnumbered, like no one was on my side.

Well, actually that was wrong. My family was on my side. Every single one of them had told me to slice his balls off. But their support was reactionary and not terribly helpful.

I kept going back to the beginning, back to us before he left.

I had been young and in love. And incredibly stupid.

Love was an emotion, and I’d been totally and completely in love with him.

Die for him, have his babies, grow old with him, love.

I knew it was special. Sebastian and I never had that. I cared about him, but I wouldn’t have dropped everything to be with him. I appreciated him, but I wouldn’t have died for him. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to have his children. It was the kind of loving relationship that makes you think it’s love because there are so many wonderful things that went along with it. He was sweet, he took care of me, he respected me. We shared a lot of the same interests and hobbies. He liked boating and fishing, and was more than happy to indulge my food fetish.

But it wasn’t earth shattering. I wouldn’t have torn myself to shreds to save him. I wouldn’t have given my life for his happiness.

I would, and did, all those things for Jake.

I didn’t think I could live through doing it again.

Which was why I needed to find a way to end things with Jake once and for all. To move on in a healthy way that would allow me to find real love with someone I could trust.

We were in the third inning when I heard his voice from somewhere down the hall.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize…” Jake said.

Sam, the security guard replied, “How do you not know that? Have you been living in a hole?”

Jake chuckled, “Something like that.”

He was standing across from Sam, casually dressed in a Rays t-shirt and dark jeans. He looked good. Casual was a very good look on him. The dark shade of blue made his tan skin stand out and his green eyes seemed greener.

“Can I help you?” I asked, startling both Sam and Jake.

Jake’s jaw fell open with surprise and he took a step back, his eyes widening. He was obviously not expecting to see me. But that didn’t stop his eyes from roaming up and down my body, drinking me in. My body instantly responded to his attention, heat flushing up into my chest and down between my legs. I wanted him to want me, to know what he’d given up when he left.

What he couldn’t have back.

I was extremely glad I’d decided to wear my favorite jeans and custom made Rays t-shirt. It accentuated all of my assets. Assets that I stupidly wanted him to enjoy seeing.

“Sorry, Miss Daniels. This guy was trying to sneak into the suites. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

I touched Sam’s arm to stop him from grabbing Jake, “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Jake and Sam both shot me a quizzical look. Sam because it was his job to deal with morons, and Jake because I was going against everything I told him I wanted. “Ma’am, are you sure?” Sam asked.

I let my eyes wander over Jake from top to bottom, letting my instincts rule my decisions instead of my head. My instincts wanted Jake to stick around. “He’s an old friend of the family. I promise he’s just an idiot, not a security threat.”

Jake frowned at my insult, but didn’t interject.

“Alright…” Sam replied looking both of us over carefully. I’ll be on the radio if you need me.”

I waited until Sam was gone before I looked back at Jake. “Did you really think you could just waltz into the suites, Jake?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve got a bit of a learning curve to make up for. A lot has changed.”

I looked at him pointedly and crossed my arms, “You lived here for a full two years after 9/11. You should know this type of security is standard.”

He sighed, “Eve, I know this is hard for you to understand, but that was a lifetime ago.”

More like two lifetimes ago.
“Well, you can’t just wander around the luxury suites like you own the place.”

His lips quirked up at that and a mischievous look twinkled in his eyes. “No, that’s your job.”

Really?
He was going there?

In college Jake and our gang of friends teased me mercilessly. Not only about the way I acted at the stadium or around the team, but how the staff treated me. I knew it was all in fun (my friends certainly enjoyed the benefits that came with being a friend of Eve Daniels) but it had always succeeded in getting me good and pissed.

“Do you really want to start with that? Here I thought we were being friendly…”

Jake’s smile didn’t waver in the slightest, “Not at all,
friend.
”

Something about the way he said that word physically hurt. We were not friends. We would never be ‘just friends’. He was my
best
friend.

The minute the thought flitted through my brain I froze. Jake
was
my best friend. Not anymore.

Suddenly my mind was flooded with snapshots of Jake and I, not as lovers, but as the close friends we always were. No one had ever understood me the way Jake did. Things other people found annoying or strange, he always found adorable or simply one of my unique and fantastic qualities. There was no one else I ever turned to when I needed to be understood—not even Jennie. “Were you coming to check out our suite?”

He nodded, his eyes searching my face, wondering what was going on in my head. “I’ve been taking a tour of my past.”

Our past.

I waved for him to follow me, “Come on. It’s empty.”

A lot of memories accompanied the two of us into the room. We’d been to so many games over our four years together. Sometimes alone, sometimes entertaining family friends, sometimes partying with our own friends. All in this suite.

We’d had sex in this suite.

My eyes flew to the bar—we’d had sex behind it once. My belly quivered at the memory, taking my breath away. It had been quick and exciting… and had led to a problem for us. Apparently we had an exhibitionist streak, and it all started there, behind the bar. My eyes shot around the room, remembering sex against the wall, on the chair… his hand on my jeans between my legs when no one was looking. I couldn’t count the number of orgasms he’d given me between these walls.

I swallowed, trying to suppress my body’s reaction to the memories, but it was too late. I was breathing heavy, a deep throb between my legs, and shiver of desire washing over my skin, wanting to be touched.