Page 15 of Sliding into Love
Too bad for me, I can’t seem to stay away.
CHAPTER SIX
KENNETH
After Sandy left my office,Royce took control of the situation. They led me out to their car, then drove us to Bellport General. I experienced it all like a bystander to my own life. I felt the movements and heard everyone talking around me. I simply couldn’t react to save my life.
Part of my struggle is because I hate to find out one of my players got hurt. These guys work hard for their careers. For most, this is the dream. Hell, probably for all. They work out, eat right, and give it their all for a chance to play on the field at this level. An injury like this—one that ends your plans before they truly get to play out—is devastating.
The other part of my internal shutdown is due to the outfit Royce showed up in today. I can’t say that I’ve never seen them in a skirt or dress, but fuck me sideways, I clearly forgot how hot they looked in one. The outfits from the week before are now just a tease compared to this.
Pale yellow fabric.
I never thought my downfall would be frompale yellow fabric.
The dress makes me want to lay at their feet, begging for a chance to do whatever they want from me. A chance to worshipall the exposed skin I can see. Or maybe to let them do anything they wanttome. I don’t really care at this point. I simply want more.
When they touched my arm to stop me from losing my cool in the office, it felt like they were stroking my dick. The touch was that damn powerful.
I shake away the desire racing through my veins as we reach the door marked A4568. This is where Sandy said we needed to go.
“You need to put your game face on. If you go in there looking like you’re going to cry, he’s going to lose it. We have to show him we’re in support of whatever comes next,” Royce tells me with a tug on my wrist.
Sadness? They think I’m sad?
This isn’t sadness. If anything, it’s madness.
Madness that I can’t take them away to have my wicked way with them. Madness that we’re stuck together in this business exchange that feels less and less important every day. Madness that I think they’d look my way for even a second after the mess I made of our past.
That last thought breaks me out of my funk. I nod to Royce, then step forward to push the door open. Inside, it’s just like any other hospital room, only more. It’s obvious they’re treating Tollide to a VIP experience.
Speaking of Tollide, I spot him on the bed and freeze. He’s covered in bandages from head to toe. Both legs are in casts, along with one arm. Only one eye is exposed, which isn’t much help since it’s so swollen. It’s a wonder he survived.
A man rises from the couch, approaching the bed protectively. “What are you doing here?”
I lift my hands to show I mean no harm. “We’re here to see Tollide. My name is Kenneth Meyer. This is Royce Bellport. Weown the Bellport Blue Jays. Tollide is one of our players. Who are you?”
“I’m his older brother, North.”
At his words, I see the resemblance. He’s older, with a full beard and some gray around his edges, but there’s no denying the family genes are strong.
“Can you tell us what they’ve said about him? What’s his recovery time like?” Royce asks as they step to the end of the bed. I move beside them, protective for some reason despite knowing North isn’t here to hurt any of us.
North frowns at the question as he looks at his brother. “There is no recovery. Not enough to play again, at least. He’s going to have months of rehab ahead of him. The doctor mentioned learning to walk again and the use of basic motor skills.”
“That’s to be expected. Has he woken up at all?”
“For a bit. He was… upset. Before I could even tell him the news, he knew. It was like the light left his eyes. Baseball has been his life for as long as I can remember. He won’t know what to do without it.”
Grief hits me then. I can’t understand where he’s coming from, however, I can be part of the solution for when he’s better.
“Do you think he’d still want to be around the sport even if he couldn’t play? Maybe coaching or communications? There are a million support roles, and the Jays would love to have him as part of the organization,” I rush out.
Royce turns to me. “That’s basically what I was about to suggest. I think Tollide here would do well being surrounded by familiar faces as he goes through his rehab. We’ve got a full team of doctors too that can help him. Just because he doesn’t play on the field doesn’t mean he’s not part of it all.”
North slumps into the chair beside the bed. His eyes water as he nods. “I think he’d like that. He’s going to be a bit lost. There’sonly so much I can do for him. I don’t even live here. I came out because I’m his emergency contact.”
“No other family?” Royce asks softly.
