Let Me Love You (Australian Sports Star Series Book 2) (4 page)

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means that I know Oliver.”

She left it at that and went into the bathroom to get dressed. “I can handle him,” she shouted into her bedroom.

When her uncle didn’t reply, she peeked through the gap in the door. “I said—”

“I heard ya.”

Five minutes later, she grabbed the pizza and followed him downstairs.

“I’ve got a movie as well.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to play babysitter.”

“I don’t. Jenny’s out with her friends, and I needed to tell you about Oliver. You can tell me about the job and how you’re getting on.”

“I’m really fine. Hey, I even went to St. Kilda the other day.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Holy smokes, aren’t there any secrets between you and Oliver?”

“Tammy, I have no idea why he’s so interested in you—”

“I’m his latest challenge.”

Erik stared at her with eyes wide open. “Say what?”

Shrugging, she grabbed another piece of pizza. “His words.
I like a challenge.
”

Her uncle shook his head. “Well, he now knows about Jason. I’m sure that crushed his
challenge.
Challenge, my ass.”

Tamara laughed and checked the DVD cover. “Baseball movie? Really?”

Chapter Three

As a pitcher, Oliver’s main training was to uphold the strength in his arms. He liked pushing weights on various machines. The side effect of that was it also taught him to focus. Now that his shoulder was a lot better, he was right back into the intense training. Keeping up with his throwing exercises was important as well.

What he didn’t like was base running training. It was an inevitable evil in his game, but today he couldn’t get into it at all.

He simply wasn’t able to concentrate. His coach’s words were a blur, his mind a mess. There were so many things on his mind, like saying no to the brunette the previous weekend. He’d never said
no
to any woman before. Not for a long time, anyway. Seriously worried about himself, he’d called it an early night. Then the picture of Tamara at the beach kept occupying his mind. He simply wasn’t able to shake it off, not even while running—and that was when he made a small mistake while rounding the first base.

A mistake which put him in agony straight away.

Pain shot through Oliver like a lightning bolt and nearly took his breath. Moving was excruciating and for a moment, he lay looking up at the sky, trying not to panic. Overcome by dizziness, he slowly breathed in and out to avoid fainting. The extent of the damage rushed through his mind, but there was no doubt in his mind that his season was over. He cursed using about every foul combination of words he knew.

The next twenty minutes were like a haze. He was taken to the medical centre for the initial treatment. Events turned even hazier after the first shot of pain reliever. Although he heard the club doctor’s initial diagnosis to be a minor meniscus tear, they were only words to him. Oliver didn’t want to know. He wanted to rewind the previous hour and re-do that run again. Run that base as he’d done so many times before.

There was movement next to him before he heard his coach’s voice. “Shit, mate. The only thing I can say, lucky we’re near the end of the season.”

“Fuck off,” Oliver whispered, not wanting to go there. He knew. He might still be in denial, but deep inside he knew the season was over. It’d been one of the best seasons for the club. He didn’t need this.

“Look, Oliver. Let’s get you to hospital and have this looked at straight away.”

With one arm across his chest, the other arm over his eyes, Oliver just nodded.

“I need to stay put, but I’ve organised someone to come with you. You’ll be in capable hands.”

Oliver heard the clicking of shoes in the background and moved his arm just the slightest bit to have a look. All he saw, though, was an evergreen coloured bag right next to him. He moved his arm back over his eyes, but when he heard the familiar voice, he looked again.

“Hi there,” Tamara said quietly. “Erik’s asked me to accompany you to the hospital.”

His head went into a further spin. He blamed the drugs and even more so, he blamed Erik.

Dammit.

Oliver could not believe that only a few days ago, he was told by his coach that his niece was
off limits,
and now she was the one going with him to the hospital. It was a bad joke and twice the pain.

The ache in his knee suddenly shot through his whole body as the doctor moved the leg slightly, which resulted in an oncoming headache as well.

“Don’t need help,” he said grouchily.

When he heard the clicking of shoes again, he peeked from underneath his arm, and she seemed to have left. It’d been easier than he thought. For a brief moment, he relaxed under the wave of relief until he heard her voice again. This time from the other side to him.

“What’s your full name, Oliver?”

“None of your business.”

Someone lifted his arm away from his face, and he looked right into her eyes. Beautiful eyes. And for crying out loud, she smiled at him. She was so close it would’ve only taken him a small move to touch her lips with his.

Off limits,
he reminded himself. Not to mention the pain in his knee.

“Now look who’s got an attitude,” she said.

He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on something or someone else.

“Where’s Erik?”

“I need it for the paperwork.”

Great, now she was ignoring him.

“Where’s the ambulance?” he asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her checking her watch. “Should be here in a few minutes.”

Then he closed his eyes again. The drugs started to have an effect on him. The pain in his knee eased, the pounding in his head dulled, and tiredness spread through his body.

“Oliver Liam Dempsey.”

When he slid an eye open, he saw that smile again, and he blew out a sigh.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he said, cursing himself for saying it. Having Tamara hold his hand shouldn’t have been bad. It was all his brain had told him he wanted the last few weeks.

Off limits,
he reminded himself and again, he let out a litany of curses.

“Do you need more painkillers?” the medical attendant asked.

Shaking his head, he moved his arm back over his eyes. Slowly breathing in and out. In and out, but all he was able to focus on was her voice in the background. A beautiful voice. He imagined her saying his name, begging him to—

A male voice brought him back from his thoughts. “Mate, we’re just going to hook you up to the IV-drip before getting you onto the gurney. Right?”

Oliver nodded towards the paramedic, but then turned to look at Tamara, who had taken his other hand into hers and moved them to her chest.

He cocked a brow at her.

The drive to the hospital was a big haze. Whatever the paramedic had given him, it was working damn well, with Oliver hardly remembering anything about the drive. Dozing on and off, he willed his mind to replay his run to figure out what had gone wrong. But it was useless. The fog in his head simply didn’t want to lift, making it impossible for him to focus on a clear thought.

Once at the hospital, it didn’t take long to see the doctor, but unfortunately, the doctors confirmed the earlier diagnosis of the damage. Oliver had an injury to the anterior cruciate ligament. The term sounded bad, and he scrolled through his brain to decipher what it actually meant. Anger and frustration that the medication played havoc with his ability to think clearly were taking over.

“What does that mean?” he heard Tamara ask.

He turned to look at her questioningly. “Sweet Jesus, how did you get in here?”

She smiled. First at him, and then more timidly towards the surgeon. Yet, she didn’t reply.

“It’s often seen in athletes,” the surgeon replied to Tamara. “One wrong move—” He didn’t finish the sentence, but nodded towards the knee.

Oliver knew what he meant anyway. One wrong move could mean anything, but in his case, he mightn’t be playing baseball for a while.

“So now what?” Tamara asked.

Annoyed, Oliver shot her a look. “Out!”

Both the surgeon and Tamara looked at him in surprise.

“My knee, my injury, my questions.” He raised his eyebrow slightly. “My privacy.”

Tamara stared at him, and despite the drugs playing with his capability to think, he held her stare. Their eyes locked for a long moment before she shook her head.

“No,” she whispered with a sound in her voice that even in his dazed mind told him something wasn’t right. Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm. That was when he noticed her struggle with tears. Good grief, it was just a knee injury! He leaned his head back into the seat, closed his eyes, and lifted a finger towards the surgeon.

“Tell her.”

As he listened to the doctor explaining what lay ahead for Oliver, the warmth of her hand seeped through his shirt. The words about his injury were a blur, the touch of her hand occupying his mind.

The sound of steps told him the surgeon was leaving the room. He knew by now that Tamara’s shoes made more of a different click-clack sound.

“Please tell me he’s not leaving me alone here with you.”

“He’s getting your prescriptions and some painkillers to take home.”

Her voice was shaky, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

“It’s just a knee injury, cupcake,” Oliver said.

Tamara was visibly shaken. Despite the deep breath she’d taken, the reply came out as barely a whisper. “I have no intention of leaving a hospital alone again.”

Not quite clear on the sense of her words, he closed his eyes again. He tried to reach for her hand on his arms, but even the little move caused some discomfort. He’d have to deal with Tamara once he got hold of his faculties again. This wasn’t the moment.

An hour later, the knee was bandaged, and with the crutches under his arm, Oliver took the small container of pain relievers from the doctor. Listening to the instructions, he signed all kinds of forms, including the one to arrange his surgery in two weeks at the reception.

“Take these three times a day to help ease the pain and reduce the swelling. We need the swelling and bruising to subside to do the surgery,” the doctor instructed.

Oliver nodded. His gut clenched just at the thought of it.

“Will you be all right?”

Again, he nodded.

The surgeon stepped a bit closer. “This is a routine operation. However, you should prepare yourself for the possibility that professional baseball might not be in your future anymore.” He hesitated and then nodded towards Tamara, who was getting a drink of water further down the hall. “It’s not life threatening, though. I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

Oliver followed his gaze and winced. The words she’d said earlier were playing on his mind again, and he hoped he’d be able to find out what she’d actually meant.

With a gentle slap on Oliver’s shoulder, the doctor said goodbye and walked off. Momentarily a bit lost, Oliver grabbed his phone and dialled Tyson’s number.

“Mate, I need a lift.”

“Where are you?” Tyson asked.

“St Vincent’s.”

“Christ, what happened?”

“The knee,” he simply replied.

“I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

Oliver shut the phone, took the crutches, and slowly made his way down the hall to Tamara. He still wasn’t sure how to interpret what she had said earlier. Then again, he wasn’t sure at all how to take her.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

She turned and smiled at him. A smile he wasn’t able to ignore and did all sorts of things to his body. “All sorted?” she asked.

“Yup. And I’m going to leave the hospital. So there really is no need for you to worry anymore.”

Tamara lowered her head and stared at the floor. With a big sigh, she finally said, “Sorry for that.” She shook her head. “I think I freaked out a bit.”

He chuckled. “A bit?”

He leaned onto the crutches and placed a finger under her chin to lift her face. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

But instead she made an abrupt move away that surprised him.

“I’d better get you home. Will you be all right or do you have someone to look after you?”

Oliver frowned. “I’ve got my mate picking me up. Don’t want to take up any more of your precious time.”

“You sure?”

He couldn’t figure out what had happened. Cursing inwardly, he just nodded. This woman was driving him insane with her changing moods.

Tamara readjusted the handbag on her shoulder and said, “Right. I’ll let Erik know. I’d assume he’ll give you a call.”

Then she walked off, leaving him behind with a massive headache.

“Women!” he cursed.

“And you love ’em.”

Oliver shot around to see Tyson standing right behind him. “You got here quickly.”

“Want me to come back in ten minutes?”

“Bugger off.”

“So, this is the girl Markus mentioned the other day. The one occupying your brain, saying no to the rest of the adoring fans?”

If Oliver had been able to, he’d have punched his friend right there. But he didn’t have the balance, possibly neither the strength with all the medication, yet most of all, he needed a ride home. “You’re such an ass. That was Erik’s niece. She works at the club and was here to help out.”

“Yet, the help didn’t extend to a lift home?”

Oliver closed his eyes, quietly cursing his friend at that moment. “Can we go now? My knee is giving me hell.”

Tyson laughed. “Yup. I have a feeling that’s only part of the story.”

Ignoring his friend’s words, Oliver started his way towards the exit.

“How bad?”

“Surgery in two weeks. Off for the rest of the season.”

“Fuck.”

“I wish.”

Tyson laughed again. “What’s her name?”