The Way We Play (Bradford Boys #2)

Chapter 2

2

Rachel

I ’m naked.

I’m sitting on the floor of the shower naked with Zane Bradford on his knees in front of me soaking wet and looking like an angry god.

A hot and sexy angry god.

Thankfully, a soaking-wet towel covers my body—a towel that he put there. I’m too dizzy to be humiliated… yet .

His dark brown hair is wet around his square jaw, making it appear almost black, and his pale blue eyes are so intense. His hand touches my cheek, and my eyes follow the lines of ink in the sleeve covering his muscular right arm.

Most prominent is a tattoo of the taijitu or yin-yang symbol, only it’s not the traditional curved one. It’s the one with black and white lines. Taijitu symbolizes the two opposing forces in nature .

“Rachel?” He holds a glass of orange juice to my lips. “Drink this.”

The blood pulses in my veins. I can feel it thump-thump-thumping in my limbs, and I know what happened. We’d been running up and down the stairs all day, unloading the truck, and I only ate a piece of toast for breakfast.

As I was standing in the hot shower, my hands started to shake, but I didn’t want to make Zane wait. I really was afraid he’d leave without me.

Blinking slowly, I wrap an arm over my waist as I try to sit up straighter. The water is off at least, and Edward is at the door not looking at me.

“If you’re okay, I’ll go back to my room.” My brother doesn’t handle excitement very well.

“Are you diabetic?” Concern laced with anger is in Zane’s voice.

“Hypoglycemic. I didn’t eat enough breakfast, and all the running up and down the stairs then the heat of the shower must’ve made my blood sugar drop.”

I sip more of the juice. It helps, but now my stomach is weak. I’m nauseated, and I wish I hadn’t gotten so distracted.

“I should’ve…” My voice breaks off, and I shake my head.

I should’ve grabbed a grape Jolly Rancher off my nightstand. That little hit of sugar was all I needed.

“I don’t think you hit your head.” Zane grips my chin between his finger and thumb, forcing my eyes to his. “Your pupils aren’t dilated.”

“I didn’t hit my head.” The last thing I remember is singing along with RuPaul when my knees buckled. “I’m lucky that bar was there.”

I nod at the silver rod on the side of the shower, and his lips tighten. “We installed it when I came home.”

Right . They would’ve installed it when he came back here after his injury—he wouldn’t have been able to put weight on his leg for a while.

Not long after I got here, in an attempt to understand his grumpy demeanor, I watched the video replay of the hit on YouTube. I’d heard the story of how he’d tried to fake a field goal, but I didn’t expect what I saw on that video .

He spun left, and a lineman the size of a refrigerator came down on him so hard, it looked for a minute like he might not get up. I actually gasped out loud, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Even though I knew he’d made it through, it was horrifying, and the cry of pain he’d made brought tears to my eyes.

His foot was broken so badly, he’s lucky he can still walk. It ended his career as a professional kicker, sending him back here, far away from the parties and the flashing lights and the celebrity.

Understandably, he’s closed off and distant, right? Still, I’d like to be friends. We work together, and now we’re practically roommates, being right across the hall from each other.

Shifting around, I move the towel to cover more of my body. “Thank you… for helping me.”

He stands, turning to get a fresh towel out of the cabinet, which he uses to dry himself. “You’re a guest in our home.”

It’s a curt reply that sucks all the warmth out of his act of kindness, but I’ve been practicing positive meditations, overcoming negativity.

I give him a neutral smile. “Still, you did a good thing.”

He glances at me. “You shouldn’t be alone in case it happens again.”

“I know how to manage it. I was just distracted.” I’m still sitting on the floor holding the glass.

I don’t say by him , because I’m not distracted by Zane Bradford. I was trying to hurry so he’d give me a ride to work. That’s all.

“Are you okay now?” He gives me a pointed look, and my throat tightens.

“I’m fine. Trust me, I’ve been dealing with this for a long time.”

Zane’s lips tighten as if he’ll say something. Instead, he simply nods.

Nodding seems to be his response to everything.

“Are you going to work today?”

“Yes!” I hold the bar to help myself stand, then I stop when I realize I’m about to give him the full-Monty view of my vag. “If you’ll give me five minutes, I’ll be dressed and ready to go.”

“I have to change out of these wet clothes, so take ten.”

“In that case, I’ll put on some lip gloss.”

He shakes his head. “Miss Gina is blind, so it won’t matter.”

My lips twist, and I attempt to lighten the mood. “Who said it’s for Miss Gina?”

His tone turns impatient. “Are you able to stand?”

“Not with you in here.”

A fresh pinch of annoyance tightens his attractive features. “I’m right across the hall if you need help.”

He leaves, and I finish off the juice. I started having trouble with low blood sugar when I started having my periods, but I’ve learned to manage it. I’m pretty embarrassed this happened, but everything falling on me in the last week has been a lot—from the surprise of taking care of my brother to the question of where we’ll live.

Still, I have to be more responsible. Edward needs me to take care of myself, and the last thing I need is a lecture from meanie Zane Bradford.

I wring out the towel and hang it on a hook inside the shower then I grab a dry one from the cabinet. I’ll have to do a load of laundry to help with this mess I’ve made. My hair is wet, and water is all over the floor.

Taking a minute, I clean it all up before I dash across the hall to get dressed, securing my damp hair in two braids on the sides of my head. I pull on leggings and an oversized, light-green sweatshirt, then I swipe up my bag and motion for Edward to follow me.

“It’s ‘take your sibling to work’ day.” His brow furrows, and I point to the Kindle on the dresser. “Bring that so you’ll have something to read. You have your phone, and I’ll find something constructive for you to do.”

He’s twelve, not two, and he can sit quietly while I work during the day. He’s been doing it for a while now, ever since I had to pull him out of school, which was a total shitshow.

They talk about mainstreaming kids like him, but if he’s bullied and fights back, they insist he be medicated. Edward has never had a problem at school, but it didn’t matter to his new teacher. That “leader” only cared that my brother behave like every other kid in the class.

Scrubbing my fingers over my brow, I swallow the lump in my throat. I was supposed to start working with Miss Gina in August, but getting him settled delayed everything.

Gran finally told me to go ahead and come here and pursue my life, but when the fight happened, I had to go back and get him. Our grandmother has a good heart, but she’s old-school. When she called to say she was going to have to medicate him or move him to a group home, I panicked and raced back to Birmingham.

Now our entire future is uncertain.

When I took this job as Miss Gina’s nurse, it really did feel like my life was finally taking a turn for the good. I had my own room in a mansion on the bluffs overlooking a beautiful bay. I was taking care of a sweet old blind lady, who wasn’t demanding in the least and gave me as much free time as I needed.

It was all going great—if you don’t count Zane Bradford, the super hot and grumpy handyman who took one look at me and decided he’d rather be enemies than friends. I didn’t need him—I made friends with his little sister Dylan and the staff at her hilariously wild family restaurant Cooters & Shooters.

Dylan is nothing like her brother. When she found out what happened with Edward, she insisted we stay here in her family home. She even offered to help me get him enrolled at the school here—if that’s what I decide to do.

We hustle down the stairs to where Zane is sliding his feet into his work boots. His dark hair is still damp, but he’s in his uniform of jeans, a gray T-shirt, and a plaid flannel overshirt rolled up at the sleeves. He has a dark scruff on his cheeks, and sometimes he adds a baseball cap to make me drool.

Straightening, his heart-stopping blue eyes fix on me for a second. He lifts his chin and heads out the door. Exhaling heavily, I follow.

The wind blows loud around us as we drive north along the bay. If I had to guess, I’d say he keeps the doors off his Jeep so he doesn’t have to do things like have a conversation with his passengers.

Edward is in the back seat with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his shaggy, blond head. The strings are tied tight under his neck, so it creates almost a cocoon. I’m sure he doesn’t like the wind, but bless his heart, he’s learned to cope with a lot in his twelve years on this planet.

When we finally arrive at the house, Zane exits the vehicle without a word. He reaches into the back of the Jeep for his bag, but he doesn’t get far before he takes a halting stop. He tries so hard to hide the muscle spasms, but I’ve been trained in sports medicine and physical therapy.

“My massage offer remains open.” I reach behind my seat for my backpack and to help my brother out of the Jeep. “I saw that video of your injury, and I’m sure you still have trauma in your hip and lower back.”

“No thanks.” It’s a flat reply, and I decide to try a teasing olive branch.

“It’s only fair now that you’ve seen me naked that I get to see you naked.”

His voice turns stern. “I didn’t see you naked . I didn’t have a choice.”

“You mean you didn’t look?” I squint one eye at him. “I don’t believe you.”

His square jaw flexes attractively, and his dark brow lowers. “Is your father Jayden Wells?”

Wow . I didn’t expect that comeback. My stomach pits at the mention of my father’s name. It’s like a slap, and my chin pulls back reflexively.

“Why… what?”

“He saw Papa’s picture in your room.” Edward’s quiet voice comes from behind my shoulder.

Shit . Gran put Jayden’s picture in my things, and I was trying to decide if I was going to shove it in a drawer or throw it in the garbage. I’m leaning hard to the latter option.

Straightening my shoulders, I lift my chin. “Do you know him?”

Zane’s eyes flare. I wouldn’t be surprised if smoke came from his nostrils. “I was only a boy when your papa swindled my dad out of the downpayment on a restaurant they had planned to open together. He pulled out of the contract, leaving my parents holding the bag.”

My throat tightens, and embarrassment rises behind my ears. I’m quite familiar with my father’s selfish behavior, and I’m sure he’d have some narcissistic reason why he wasn’t to blame for whatever pain he caused. Yep, garbage.

“If it makes a difference, he doesn’t treat his own family any better. I’ve worked hard to distance myself from him, and now that we’re here, I plan to make my own?—”

“I’m not interested in your plans or why you’re here.” Zane’s jaw is tight, and the embarrassment in my neck moves to my chest. “Just stay on your side of the house, and I’ll stay on mine.”

My lips tighten. While I want to assure him I’m nothing like my father, I don’t appreciate the way he’s slapping a label on me I don’t deserve. He doesn’t know anything about me, and I’m ready to make the point emphatically.

I’m prepared to tell him he’s being a prejudiced jerk, but Edward sways behind me, softly humming “Particle Man.” He doesn’t react well to tension or raised voices, and I have to let it go for now.

So I look down, swallowing my desire to fight, and simply say, “Understood. ”

Zane walks away, and my eyes drift from his broad shoulders down his strong back to his perfectly square ass in those jeans. I’ve never had an opponent, much less one who could be a male model.

My father ruined a lot of things for me, but I didn’t expect him to follow me to this beautiful place where I thought I’d have a chance at having my own life.

Now I’m back at square one, and I sure could use some drag queen music right now.

“I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly.” I lift Miss Gina’s brown cashmere scarf off the back of the chair and drape it over her shoulders.

She’s wearing soft white pants and a loose, long-sleeved shirt. A floppy, beige canvas hat is in her hands. She lifts it and plops it onto her head.

“You don’t have to apologize. Family first. I was worried about you, though. I hope everything is okay.”

My shoulders drop, which thankfully she can’t see. “I need a mantra for when life gives you everything you ever wanted, then takes it all back just like that.”

“My sister loves mantras.” Edward pipes up from behind me, and the old woman’s brows shoot up.

“Who is this?” She leans forward as if she’ll look at him, and her straight, gray hair falls forward on her jaw.

“Miss Gina, meet my younger brother Edward. He’s twelve.” I move my hand between them, even if it’s only for Edward’s benefit.

“Well, hello, Edward!” Her smile beams, and her blue eyes blink as she looks towards the horizon.

My brother turns to look behind him, confused. “What are you looking at? ”

“Miss Gina is blind, Edward.” My voice is low, but it only makes her laugh.

“You’ll get used to me!” She stretches out her hand, which he shakes so briefly, I’m not sure it counts. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard you have a lot of personality.”

“You have?” I look from her to him confused. “Who told you about Edward?”

“Dylan was here last week. She said you have a brother named Eddie Nashville, and he’s quite a character.” Her voice is warm and genuine.

Still, heat creeps up the back of my neck. “Oh.”

“That’s my stage name.” Edward says it like everyone has a stage name, duh . “I’m not famous for anything yet, but when I am, it’s what I’ll use.”

“I like it, and I like your approach.” She stands slowly. “It’s good to be prepared, and Eddie Nashville has style. It reminds me of Paul Newman in The Color of Money .”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“I have a job for you, Eddie.” The old woman puts her hand on his forearm, giving it a brief pat, almost like she knows not to crowd him.

“Okay.” He doesn’t pull away.

In fact, he actually seems comfortable with Miss G, which I’ve learned is her superpower. Less than five minutes in her presence, and everyone is at ease.

“My cat Sky has been living under my deck for the past few weeks. I think she has a litter of kittens there.” The two of them walk slowly in the direction of the ornate glass doors leading out to the patio. “I can’t see, of course, so I need your help. Would you check, and if she has, count them for me and make sure none of them are hurt or injured. I want to know what to tell the vet when I call him.”

“A mother cat will take care of her kittens.” Edward’s tone is certain, as if he’s already studied the situation. “People think they’re rescuing kittens, but it’s actually worse to take them from their mother if they’re well-groomed and healthy.”

“Oh, I don’t want to separate them. I just want to be sure they get their shots.” She leans closer. “And I’d like to have Sky fixed. This is her second litter in a year, and we barely found homes for the last ones.”

“It’s far less traumatic to neuter a male cat than spay a female.”

I have no idea where my brother gets his information, but he’s usually right.

“I agree.” Miss Gina nods. “However, I don’t know who or where said male cat is located, and we have to stop this.”

Edward’s lips purse. “I see your problem. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thank you, Eddie. I can tell already you’re going to be a wonderful addition to my household!”

He takes off, and Miss Gina stretches her slender hand in my direction. “Rachel, your brother is adorable. You must have so much fun together.”

I almost laugh. “I never really thought of it that way.”

“You’re joking! Why not? He’s so intelligent!”

Taking her hand, I walk with her through the French doors onto her back patio where two pear trees stand in enormous, cerulean blue ceramic pots, and pink bougainvillea grows in twisting vines over an arch erected behind a wrought-iron bench.

Her patio is immaculately landscaped, with square beds between flagstone paths. She even had a raised, wooden platform constructed for my massage therapy table, complete with full-length beige-linen curtains for privacy.

It’s all so elegant and beautiful, and she can’t see a bit of it.

“I guess, since he was born, I’ve spent all my time trying to figure out how to take care of him. Fun was never part of the equation.”

The old woman’s brow furrows, and concern deepens her voice. “Isn’t childcare something for your mother to work out? ”

A sad little half-smile pulls the side of my lips. “It should’ve been.”

Miss Gina holds my hand. “Tell me what happened.”

I exhale a brief laugh, thinking how if she were anyone else in the world, this question might seem intrusive. As it is…

“She never wanted another child. My father insisted, and when he found out Edward was a boy, he was obsessed.” My lips tighten. “Then when Edward was diagnosed, he lost interest. That left me.”

Miss Gina stops walking and turns to pull me into a hug, holding me close to her body for several seconds. “My goodness, Rachel. That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard in a while.”

My memory travels back to baby Edward lying in his crib quietly crying, and no one going to check on him. I remember myself at sixteen with posters of my favorite boy bands on the walls, putting on makeup while I watched YouTube videos, and hearing him fuss until I’d finally go to his room, pick him up, and carry him to mine.

“He was actually pretty easy as a baby.” I lift one of the pink bougainvillea flowers on the vine, turning it in my fingers. “I didn’t have a car or a boyfriend or anything else to do, so I’d hold him or change him or give him a bottle.”

“You’re a warm soul.” Miss Gina holds my arm, and we walk again. “I’m so lucky to have you here.”

“We’ll see about that, I guess. Now that I have all this extra baggage.”

“A brother is hardly baggage. More like an unexpected gift.”

She has no idea how unexpected. “I mean, I know it isn’t what you expected.”

“At my old age, I’ve learned the best thing I can do is stay flexible—so I don’t break.” She pats my hand. “And you’re staying at the Bradford house? I told Dylan she and that handsome Logan could come and spend the night in the bungalow here if things get too crowded. I like having friends around at night. ”

“I’m sorry I can’t fulfill that part of our arrangement. Trust me, I really wish I could stay with you here.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve seen it time and time again—life always seems to put people together in the way they’re supposed to fit. It will all work out. You’ll see.”

My lips twitch, and I shrug. “I hope you’re right.”

“Now, speaking of flexibility, I think I have a yoga class scheduled?”

“Yes, you do.” I take her hand, leading her to the outdoor space overlooking the bay.

We spend the next hour moving through flows, working on balance and flexibility. It’s a relaxing class focused on breathing and light core work. We finish, seated in the lotus position with our hands in prayer pose.

“ Namaste ,” I say quietly as my brother approaches.

“You have five kittens, two pure black, two tuxedos, and this one,” Edward announces, walking over to where we sit. “He looks like a Russian Blue, but his head is shaped like a Chartreux. Although, Sky is Siamese, so he’s more likely Russian Blue.”

Edward places a fuzzy gray kitten in her hands, and Miss Gina exhales an affectionate laugh. “I don’t like to complain, but I do wish I could see a Russian Blue kitten. Describe him to me, Eddie!”

My brother’s expression is as serious as if she’s a queen and he’s her loyal subject. “He’s pure gray, and you can feel his thick coat, almost like a pelt. He has phantom rings on his tail, and when the light hits him, he appears to have a silver halo.”

“My goodness!” Miss Gina’s eyes widen. “He sounds magical.”

My jaw is on the ground. “How do you know all these cat facts?”

“PetMD has an extensive online database.” Edward’s brow furrows. “I’ve put out a bowl of food and plenty of water for Sky, since they’re all still nursing. I didn’t see any signs of a male cat anywhere. ”

“He’s off living his best life, no doubt.” I don’t miss the touch of humor in her voice. “You’ve done very well, Eddie. I’ll call Dr. Moore at the Eastern Shore Animal Clinic and let him know what all you’ve discovered.”

“The mother is very friendly.”

“Yes, Sky is a good mamma. Her kittens grow up to be good cats. Maybe Dylan would like one—what do you think, Rachel? It can keep mice away from the restaurant.”

I think I’m annoyed that Sky sounds like a better mother than ours ever was, but I don’t say that part out loud. “I’ll ask her.”

“Are you okay?”

It’s impossible to get anything past Miss Gina, even blind, so I force a smile into my tone. “Of course! I’ll let you know what she says.”

It’s five when we’re all finished and loading into the Jeep. I have no idea what Zane did today, and to be honest, as appreciative as I am to him of helping me in the shower this morning, I’m still irritated at him for speaking to us the way he did.

Miss Gina walks with us to the edge of the driveway, and I give her a hug while Edward goes ahead of us to the Jeep.

“I fixed the broken window on the greenhouse, and I’ll take a look at the elevator tomorrow.” Zane puts a hand in his pocket and looks down, annoyance lining his face as he waits for me.

My eyes narrow, and I glance ahead to where my brother is already sitting in the backseat with his hoodie over his head and ears and the strings pulled tight under his chin as if in preparation.

We’re far enough away that my tone won’t upset him, and I reach out, putting my hand on Zane’s arm to stop him.

“You said your piece this morning. Now I have something to say to you.”

He turns, putting his hands on his hips as he faces me, which stretches his gray T-shirt attractively across his broad chest. “Go ahead. ”

His brow lowers, and the scruff on his square jaw moves with the flex of his muscle. It doesn’t matter how handsome he is. I won’t be distracted this time.

“I spent the first half of my life with a man who was cruel and unpredictable, and I’m not spending another minute of it the same way.”

His low voice is gruff. “No one’s asking you to.”

“I’m building my own life now, and I’m my own person. Understand?”

He only nods, but it’s enough for me.

Lifting my chin, I turn on the ball of my foot and walk straight to the Jeep, climbing in without looking back. I hear the crunch of his boots on gravel, and I look away, out the passenger’s side of the Jeep.

For once, I’m equally happy the doors are off, because the last thing I care to hear is the sound of his voice.

What I do hear before he cranks the engine is the sound of Miss Gina’s delighted laugh.