Behind the Plate (The Boys of Baseball #2) - J. Sterling Page 0,103

team and social media influencing, but you have a family business to think of. A business that’s only in New York. It’s a little different.”

“Well, how did your parents do it? Your mom had a successful career of her own.”

I’d known that was coming. That she would bring up my parents and the fact that they were still together and in love and my mom had done well for herself.

“Yeah, but she freelanced and called her own shots. And when she did work for someone else, she gave it up because being with my dad was more important to her than being away from him all the time.”

She sucked in a breath. “I didn’t know that. I’d just assumed they’d made it work.”

“They did. But it took a lot to get there. My mom fought for her independence. And then she gave it up. But she got it back again after my dad retired. Their relationship was a lot of give and take, but it was scheduled around my dad’s career. You get what I’m saying?” I was trying to let her know that baseball always came first, and there was really no way around that without quitting the game.

Danika closed her eyes and rubbed them. “Look, I know you’re trying to break up with me right now. But I’m not going to let you,” she said with some kind of mustered confidence, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re not going to let me?”

“No. And I’m not getting out of this car until we’ve worked this out.” She folded her arms across her chest to amplify her stubbornness.

“What do you suggest? How the hell do we ‘work this out’?” I asked, using finger quotes around the last part.

She stayed quiet, and I assumed she was thinking. I really didn’t know what to do. I’d thought that letting her go was doing the right thing by her, but now, I wasn’t so sure.

Did I jump to conclusions and decide too fast, all because of what Jared said to me?

No, I knew it wasn’t only because of him and his words. My mom had raised me to respect the fact that the girl in my life would want independence and something to call her own. She’d told me that I couldn’t expect anyone to support my dreams if I wasn’t willing to support theirs in return. And that true partnership was built on mutual respect and communication.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, breaking my inner monologue.

“I was just convincing myself that this was the right thing to do.”

“Which part?”

I gave her a soft smile. “The part where we deal with this now instead of putting it off until later when it would be a million times harder to try and figure out.”

“Yeah. I hate that you’re right, but here’s what I’m thinking.” Her voice settled and grew steady, and I knew she was moving out of an emotional state of mind and into a more logical one. “I can’t make any decisions about this without all the facts. But the one thing I will say is that you don’t get to decide for me. Do you hear me?” She reached across the truck and poked me in the shoulder. “You don’t get to choose what I do with my life. It’s not only up to you, and it’s not fair.”

I pulled my eyes together, noticing the way that she looked at me, so serious and determined. Damn, she was beautiful. And smart. I wanted to take it all back, pull her from the passenger seat and onto my lap, where she belonged, and kiss her until she saw stars.

Nodding, I apologized because she was right. In trying to do the right thing, I had taken her choice from her, figuring that I knew what was best.

“So … first question,” she started. “Do you even want to be with me? I mean, do you want this to work, or are you just looking for a way out?”

Jesus. She thinks I don’t want to be with her?

I scoffed, practically choking on the air around me, “I want you so damn much that I can’t bear the thought of doing anything to hurt you. Thinking about you resenting me somewhere down the line because of my job fucking kills me. I want you. But I don’t want you to give up everything in order to be with me.”

Her eyes started to well up, and I watched as she sucked in a breath and looked