Authors: Harper Bentley
“‘Baby, I can’t wait to get you in bed tonight,’” El quoted. “Should I feel threatened?”
I snorted. “What do you think?”
“I know. I’m not. Just kidding.”
“Good,” I replied. “Because there’s nothing for you to be threatened about.”
She sighed into the phone. “I wish you could come to my graduation.”
She
had just under a month of school to go and was set to graduate. We’d already talked about my not being able to attend because of my games.
“I do too. I’m sorry. We’ve got so many games, there’s just no way, babe. But I’m so proud of you. You amaze me.”
She laughed. “Why do I amaze you?”
“You just do.
You’ve worked so hard and it’s paid off. Just so proud of you, babe.”
“Thanks,” she said shyly.
I chuckled. “You’re too cute.”
“Whatever. Some of these people I’ll be working on
at the clinic won’t think I’m too cute when I start doing therapy on them.”
“I’m sure they won’t. But I know they’ll be grateful when you get them up and running again,” I assured her.
“I hope so. This is so scary! But so exciting too!” she squealed making me laugh.
“You’ll do great,” I said.
We talked a bit more before she said she needed to study then get some sleep. Just as I hung up there was a knock at the door. I shook my head knowing it was either Logan or Alessandra since they were the only ones who ever came by. Occasionally, Mr. Ashton across the hall would stop by to say hi, always with at least one cat in his arms, but it was too late for him, I figured, since he was an early riser and was probably already in bed. The Lenoxes who lived down the hall were on vacation in Spain, so I knew it wasn’t them. I crossed my fingers as I went to the door to look through the peephole, hoping it was Logan.
Annnnd no such luck.
“What do you need?” I asked Alessandra upon opening the door. I hated being so rude to her since I wasn’t a rude person by nature, but she’d given me no choice, always acting like a fool when we were out in public, still trying to keep alive the fantasy that we were together.
“Can I come in?” she asked with a sniff.
She’d been crying and I couldn’t just turn her away. Lord. So I let her in, but not until I looked around outside for a damned paparazzo, making sure she wasn’t trying to set me up again. Inside, she went to my window, pulling back the curtains, looking out sadly before going to sit on the sofa, seeming so despondent I actually felt a little sorry for her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, carrying the box of tissue from the kitchen counter to her.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking it and pulling out a tissue with which to dab her eyes. I watched in morbid fascination as she blew her nose into it, the honk of it sounding like a damned Canadian goose had taken up residency in my condo. When she was finished, she placed the nasty tissue on my end table, and I mentally made a note to disinfect it. Gross.
“Alessandra, what’s going on?”
She hiccupped out a sob. “My—my father is ill,” she said, bursting out in tears.
Shit. I sat down next to her, rubbing her back trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry.”
“Cancer,” she said through her tears.
Well, damn. What was there to say to that? Nothing, really, so I continued rubbing her back, telling her I was sorry, that I could call a friend for her if she needed me to.
She leaned her head against my shoulder, her body shaking with her sobs. I wrapped an arm around her then, trying to comfort her. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?
“It’ll be okay. If you need me to call your manager…” I said, trying to be helpful.
She turned suddenly, grabbing me by the face and planted a huge kiss on me. I was so shocked at first, I didn’t struggle, but then I pulled away, gently grabbing her by the wrists and taking her hands off my face.
“I’m sorry! I’m just so lonely!” she said before bursting into tears once again.
I leaned over her to grab another tissue for her, handing it to her as I sat back. “It’s okay. Just no more.”
“Can I borrow your phone, please? I left mine in my apartment.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Can I get you a drink?”
Her breath hitched a couple times before she said, “Can you make me a margarita?
Frozen? Those always make me feel better.”
Of course, I could. I’d make he
r one then send her on her way, hoping she had a friend she could call.
“Here you go,” I said handing her the drink fifteen minutes later.
“Thank you,” she said sadly. I’d heard her talking in Portuguese to who I assumed was her mother and she’d cried the entire time. Sad stuff. “Here’s your phone back. I cleared the call because Mama is very private and didn’t want her number on the phone.”
We sat there for a few minutes more
as she sipped on her drink before she tried kissing me again. I lightly pushed her away again, and told her she probably should go, that she needed to call a friend if she needed someone to talk to.
She stood. “Can I take the glass with me?” she asked.
“Sure,” I answered, just wanting her to go.
“Thank you, Jag, for listening,” she said out in the hallway, tiptoeing up to kiss me.
This time I was ready and turned my head so she’d get my cheek.
“Good night, Alessandra,” I told
her, watching until she’d made it into her condo safely then I went back inside and went to bed.
God, being a nice guy was exhausting.
It must be said at this point
that I loved baseball.
Loved it.
I’d been playing the amazing game for over twenty years, and there wasn’t much in my life that came close to how it made me feel. There was nothing like the rush I got from striking someone out. Nothing like how it felt taking the mound to thousands of people cheering me on. So it was safe to say that without the game, I’d be lost.
The season was coming along fine. It was mi
d-June, our record was over .500 and my ERA was a little under 3.00, so things were looking good. We’d had several thirteen-game stretches and were getting ready for twenty in a row. The second week of July we’d actually get four days in a row off, unless any of us were playing in the All-Star game or competing in the Home Run Derby. Probably not necessary to point out that my schedule was more than full. I’d asked Coach not to select me for the All-Star game since I’d played in it the previous year and I really wanted some time off to go see El.
She
and I hadn’t gotten to see each other in person since the Cubs game back in May, but we saw each other almost every night with our phones. And we were happy. Everything was finally clicking for us.
She was working at
the sports clinic, but continued sending her resume out to the area’s sports teams in the hopes of being hired by one of the pro teams, be it soccer, football, hockey or baseball.
As a favor, I’d asked Coach if he’d put a good word in with the Cubs manager who was a good friend of his. I mean, I knew I didn’t have much pull, but I thought if I could help El in any way, I was willing to try it, but I wasn’t going to tell her. She wanted to do it all on her own,
have the career that she’d dreamed about, which she basically was doing already; I was just trying to give it a little nudge.
By the end of June, I
was tired. We’d been on a five-man rotation with the starting pitchers, but in reality, it was a four-man rotation. Our fifth was a rookie who’d been called up the month before, who’d had yet to win his spot. So the four of us had pitched the two thirteen-game stretches in a row and ended with the twenty-game stretch that took us into the first week of July, all of us nursing our arms like crazy throughout.
The Sunday before our four-day break, we en
ded with the Diamondbacks beating us three of the four games in a row we’d just played them. I’d pitched the first game that we’d won, but the other pitchers lost the next two, showing fatigue, so Coach let the rookie pitcher start the last one. We lost 1-7. Damn.
That evening I ran into, of course, Alessandra
in the parking lot when I got home. I was tired, angry at losing so badly and just wanted to see El, so I really didn’t need her bullshit right then.
“Hey, hottie,” she said
as she strolled up the walk with me toward our condos.
I was already in a pissy mood
after having lost, so I’ll use that as an excuse.
“What the fuck do you want, Alessandra?”
“God, you don’t have to be so rude!” she answered with a scowl.
I stopped and blew out a breath. “You’re right. I’
m sorry. We just lost, I’m mad and I want some peace and quiet for a bit.”
She tilted her head at me. “See? We’
d go together so well because that’s exactly what I want when I get out of a shoot, I just want to relax.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll never be together, so let’s move on from that.”
“Oh. You’re still with
Ellen
, I guess,” she said, scrunching her face up in revulsion when she said El’s name.
“
Yeah, I am. Flying out tomorrow morning to spend a couple days with her at a resort I booked.” I couldn’t help rubbing it in a little. Hey, I know I’m a grown man, but all men have an immature little shit of a kid inside us that needs to come out and play every now and then. It’s a fact.
She
crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Make sure to tell her to take advantage of the facial treatments.”
I snorted. What a bitch. “How about I bring some of it back for you to use?”
Her jaw dropped at that, leaving her looking like she wanted to beat the shit out of me. After all the insults I’d thrown her way, which she’d just ignored, I’d finally found the one that really provoked her.
“I have been nothing but nice to you
, Jag,” she hissed. “You’re going to regret being such a jerk to me.” I swear she did some kind of hoodoo spell next, hexing me with her hand that she held up toward me all claw-like. And with that, she turned on her heel heading toward her condo, going in and slamming the door.
I shook my head
at how fucking weird she was as I unlocked my door, going inside to have a damned beer and take a load off, knowing that she was all bark and no bite.
Grabbing
a bottle from the fridge, I sat on the couch and put my feet on the coffee table with a sigh of relief, letting my head fall back against the sofa as I closed my eyes. I couldn’t help but chuckle at how ironic it was that at that moment I was enjoying the silence I’d grown to hate only a couple months before. Being with El calmed me, made everything right in my world and allowed me to fully relax, which made me smile. I couldn’t wait to see her, because as much as I loved my job, I was ready for some free time with my girl.
Well, I must be the dumbest son
of a bitch on the planet because I never had a clue when shit was coming. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear my middle name was Gullible instead of Knox because that’s what I was to a damned fault.
The next morning
I called El to let her know I was getting ready to board the plane, but she didn’t answer, probably being too busy at work, but I’d thought she’d told me she was taking off. Anyway, she knew I was coming, had told me she’d had a bag packed for three days and was ready to get some R and R as soon as I got there, so I was kind of puzzled as to why she wasn’t answering her phone the couple times I called.
My
plane landed a little after two her time, so again I rented an SUV and took off for her place. I stopped and bought irises on the way hoping they’d go over better than they had the last time.
Upon arriving at her apartment, I let mysel
f in only to find her gone. I set the bouquet on the table thinking maybe she’d been called in to work with one of her patients or something, so I made myself at home, turning on the TV and lying on her couch. I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, El was standing over me telling me to wake up.
“Hey,” I said, my voice gravelly from sleep. I sat up and stretched my arms above my head then reached for her to pull her into my lap. She stepped away at just the last second. Okay.
“We need to talk,” she said, glaring down at me.
Now, there are a few things that no man wants to hear come out of his woman’s mouth, and that was one of them. “I’
m late,” “I’m fine,” and “We can still be friends,” are a few more.
She stood in front of me wearing tan short shorts, a white tank top and white flip flops looking sexy as hell. And she had her hands on her hips. Standard, you’re in deep shit pose. Great. What had I done now?
I ran my hands over my face trying to wake up a little more. Putting my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me, I looked up at her. “What do we need to talk about?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip looking down at me as if I should know. When I raised my eyebrows in question, she sighed. “I’m not going to cry anymore, Jag.”
Uh.
She shifted to the other hip. “I’ve cried enough over the past year and I’m done.”
I sat up straight now. “El, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She rolled her eyes, acting as if I were the dumbest son of a bitch on the planet (See? I’d been right in thinking that).
I stood and grabbed her by
the shoulders. “What the hell’s going on?” I asked as she struggled, trying to get away from me. I finally let her go, not understanding why she didn’t want me touching her. Putting my hands on my hips and letting my head fall back, I stared at the ceiling, so tired of fighting with her. So tired of the bullshit that kept getting in the way of things. I blew out a breath and looked at her. “I don’t know what you’re upset about. I’m not gonna play fucking guessing games trying to figure it out. I haven’t done a goddamned thing that I can think of to make you angry. So why don’t you go ahead and fill me in on how I’ve fucked up now.”
She huffed out a laugh. “Seriously? You really have no clue?”
I clenched my teeth trying to keep from saying something I’d regret. Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “I have no clue.”
She reached around to get her phone out of her pocket, sliding her finger over it to pull up something. When she found what she wa
s looking for, she handed it to me. At first I couldn’t tell what I was looking at, then I realized it was a picture of, you guessed it, Alessandra and me. It was from the other night (the timestamp on it told me so) when she’d surprised me by kissing me on my couch. Somehow, someone had taken the picture from outside my window. Ah, that was why she’d opened the curtains. Good God. The woman was a scheming lunatic.
I looked up from the phone to see El glaring back at me. “Scroll over,” she said.
I moved my finger to the left and a screenshot of a text conversation showed up. As I looked at it, I was finding this all pretty damned hard to believe. Apparently, Alessandra and I had texted at some point (not) making plans to have a sleepover, telling each other how much we wanted the other.
I looked at El again. “Scroll one more time.”
This time when the screenshot came up, I barked out a laugh. It was Alessandra texting that she loved me, and me texting back “Forever and a day, babe.”
I looked up and couldn’t keep my laughter in. “You really believe this?”
“Why wouldn’t I? How much proof do I need? That proves right there you’ve been fucking her from the start. That first one’s dated a while back.”
“Alessandra’s crazy. You know that.”
I could see her chest starting to move up and down rapidly. Oh, God, she was trying not to cry. “Y-you know when that picture was taken? When that second text was sent? Right after we talked. You said the same exact thing to me then turned right around and said it to her. Are you kidding me right now?” Her voice had gradually gotten louder as she’d gone on.
I blew out a breath. “Can we sit?” I motioned with my hand to the couch,
but she went to sit in the chair I’d gotten her, tucking a leg underneath her.
“I guess this is where you try to convince me that none of this is real. That Alessandra masterminded this little sche
me to break us up when she couldn’t even mastermind how to make a fucking sandwich!”
I laughed again. Th
is whole thing was just insane and El couldn’t see it. “I’m asking you to believe me, El. I can explain everything.”
She eyed me skeptically. “You know, I’ve just about had it with
all the explaining you keep doing.”
And that’s when I got pissed and stood up
again. “
You’ve
just about had it? What about
me
? Every time I turn around, you’re accusing me of something else! Jesus fuck! I’ve never apologized so much in my goddamned life than I have with you! I’m so fucking scared of doing or saying anything anymore, afraid it’ll get back to you, and you’ll just interpret it as I’m fucking Alessandra!”
“You don’t have to be afraid anymore.” She’d stood now too, hands on her hips.
Well, that knocked the wind out of my sails. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Meaning?”
She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Meaning, we’re done.”
I jerked my head back in shock. “Are you fucking kidding?”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at me.
“You’re really doing this? After everything we’ve gone through to get us back, you’re really gonna do this?”
“I don’t see any other way. It seems like every week there’s something else that comes up with her. If the situation was reversed and I kept being connected to a guy, wouldn’t you start to think there might be some truth to it?”
“No. Because I trust you. I believe in you. I believe in
us
. But apparently you don’t feel the same.”
She stared at me as a tear rolled down her face.
“Think about what you’re doing here, El. Think long and hard.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
She wiped the tear off her face. “
I have.” She swallowed roughly.
“You don’t believe me. I can’t believe you don’t believe me.” I shook my head,
hands now on my hips as I looked down at the floor.
She sighed. “It’s too much, Jag.”
I looked at her, so fucking hurt that she didn’t believe me. That she didn’t trust me. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I nodded a couple times then turned and walked out her door.
I ended up at Tyler’s and got
so wasted that I blacked the fuck out. He told me the next day that I’d punched a hole in his wall. Explained my throbbing hand. Jesus. And that was a dumbass move. Pitchers didn’t do stupid shit like that since we made a living with our hands and arms. I must’ve really been out of it because whenever I needed to punch something, I always led with my left. Christ. I told him I’d pay for the damages, but he laughed and said he’d hit the same spot plenty of times and he’d just call his sheetrock guy and get it fixed again. He added that all I did before passing out was sit on the couch staring straight ahead mumbling, “She doesn’t believe me. Fuck her then. Fuck that fucking bitch.”