The Ninth Inning (The Boys of Baseball #1) - J. Sterling Page 0,104

parents were originally disappointed, they understood. The fact that they adored Cole made their acceptance of me not walking and moving away with him easier. They’d also said they were grateful they didn’t have to sit outside and endure a five-hour-long graduation ceremony for a bunch of strangers and two people they actually knew and cared about—myself and Lauren.

Speaking of Lauren, she was back in school, going for her master’s in order to open her own practice one day. She and Jason, the drummer, still talked, but between her classes and his tour schedule, it was hard for them to maintain anything other than friendship. I told her that she never knew what the future held.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that The Long Ones were touring? No, literally. Millions of fans.

Once their social media had started to take off, it never stopped. They hired me to continue handling it all, and the band was making six figures between their online streams and video views before they were ever approached by a record label.

The executive had offered them a four-million-dollar deal, which they’d gladly accepted, and they were currently in the middle of their first nationwide small venue tour. So far, I’d gone to see them play at five different locations, getting plenty of footage to post for months to come, but it would eventually get to be too old. The truth was that they would outgrow me and need to hire someone to travel with them full-time. That wasn’t something I wanted to do even though they kept offering me the position each time I brought it up.

Cole and I were apart enough with his insane baseball schedule. Before agreeing to move here with him, I’d had no idea how many games his team played, how little time off he would actually have, and how often he would be on the road. Not that it would have changed my decision if I had known, but I would have been better prepared for it.

I’d tried to travel with him at first, thinking that I could easily balance my work with his schedule, but it was way too disruptive and chaotic. They moved around too often, rarely staying in one place for too long. I’d realized pretty quickly that I needed to be able to sit still for days on end and focus on making my business successful. I struggled doing that whenever I was on the road with him, and too many things fell through the cracks, so I usually stayed home.

I missed him like crazy whenever he wasn’t in town, but I loved my job, and that made it all worth it. There were a lot of other girlfriends here who didn’t have anything going on for themselves, and even though they genuinely seemed happy with their roles, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to live that way. I needed my independence and my own sense of self-worth. Plus, I loved being able to contribute to our lifestyle and make my own money.

Cole had been right to push me to go out on my own instead of working for someone else. Starting my own business had been terrifying at first and taken a huge leap of faith, but everything seemed a little bit easier with Cole Anders by my side. Not to mention the fact that he insisted on being my first paying client, even before The Long Ones started paying me, just like he’d always promised all those years ago. He’d printed up a contract, we’d both signed it, and he’d had it framed. It currently hung on the office wall of our two-bedroom apartment in freaking Iowa.

We could have bought a house here if we wanted with the money Cole had gotten with his signing bonus, but Cole had told me not to get too comfortable. He didn’t plan on being in Iowa for long. And if his batting average continued to rise the way it currently was, I knew that he was right. He could get moved up to the next level anytime now. All he needed was a phone call from the higher-ups.

“Are you sure you’re cut out for this life? I might get traded or called up. And we’ll have to move.” Cole nudged me with his nose, and I looked at him before kissing it. “Like the next day,” he warned, and I realized that it didn’t matter how many times or how often we