in public though. He doesn’t want me after the games or in the stands, where everyone can see us. He doesn’t want me at the fundraisers or the awards dinners. He sure as shit doesn’t want to take me on a date since he’s never once asked. And to be kept in the shadows, it’s not enough for me. Not anymore.”
“You know he brings his dad to all those stupid baseball dinners,” she said.
It was true. Cole had brought his dad to every baseball banquet and fundraiser since he started on the team, but I expected that. His dad would, and should, be there with him.
“All the players bring their parents. But they bring their girlfriends too.”
Silence.
I knew exactly what Lauren was thinking but didn’t want to say out loud, so I said it for the both of us, “See? I’m not his girlfriend. If you like someone, you want to be with them. In public.” I added for emphasis, “Around other people.”
“He likes you. I don’t care what he says, Chris. Cole likes you. It’s obvious. And not only to me,” Lauren tried to reinforce her opinion, but it was too late.
Cole had inadvertently confessed his truth tonight, whether he had meant to or not, whether he even realized it or not. And I’d heard him loud and clear.
“He doesn’t like me, Laur. He just doesn’t want anyone else to have me. And that’s not the same thing.”
I was one hundred percent done with him. For good this time.
Play Hard, Practice Harder
Cole
I got to practice early, like I always did. Chance was already here, which was no surprise. So was Mac Davies, our first baseman. For as big of a Jack Carter-in-training as Mac was off the field, he was serious about the game, our team, and his performance on it. It was why I liked him. He worked hard. And if things weren’t going well, he worked even harder. Which was exactly why the three of us, give or take a pitcher or two, were in the locker room and on the field before anyone else on the team.
“You can’t let go of something you never had in the first place.” Christina’s words had been tormenting me since the moment she delivered them, playing in a loop in my head.
I’d watched her inhale a single breath before walking away, and I wondered if that would be the last breath I’d ever watch her take. I would deserve it. I considered the fact that maybe, this time, I’d actually pushed her too far. Everyone had a breaking point, and I was pretty sure I’d found Christina’s.
In August, I’d been especially cruel. I wasn’t proud of the things I’d said to her, but it was all done out of necessity. Hell, I hadn’t even meant any of it, but if I didn’t make her go away, I was afraid that I’d prioritize her over baseball, and that scared the hell out of me. How could I have both? It didn’t seem like a possibility, so she had to go. Baseball wasn’t expendable, but the girl was. How fucked up was that? And even after all this time, making her go away hadn’t made me stop thinking about her. I still wanted her. I still missed her. And I hated myself for it.
I’d thought I’d put her away … shoved her in some box in my mind where I compartmentalized the other parts of my life, but seeing her last night had ripped it all wide open. She had been locked away tight, and now, she was out, ruining my nights and distracting my days. The very thing I’d been so desperately trying to avoid, and it was all happening anyway.
Some would call that ironic.
Lacing up my cleats, I pushed to a stand as Mac laughed from around the corner, suddenly appearing in my line of sight.
“How’s your face feel?” he asked, his surfer-looking blond hair flopping in front of his eyes before he moved it back and put on his hat.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “My face?” I asked before remembering that Christina had slapped me in front of everyone at the party last night. “Oh, it’s fine. Barely even stung,” I lied, rubbing a hand down my cheek where she’d struck me.
“Surprised you even noticed, considering the fact that you were glued to”—I paused, searching for the name of the girl I’d never seen before in my life—“some chick’s face.”
Chance laughed at that. “Mac sees everything,” he added.
“It’s