Rocking Player: Single Mom Second Chance Romance (Steel Series Book 2)

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Rocking Player: Single Mom Second Chance Romance (Steel Series Book 2) Page 12

by Victoria Pinder


  I’d sworn to never ever go back and now Michael expected me to move to a place I might hate.

  How in the world would I be a good parent if I was stressed out all the time?

  No amount of money was worth my health.

  I needed to live for my son.

  Michael parked near the entrance of the airport and took our bags out. “Jeremy, I’ll see you in a week in Pittsburgh.”

  Jeremy hugged him and said, “That will be good, Michael.”

  And that was another thing. My son wasn’t comfortable calling his own father "Dad". That was probably a sign I pushed for some impossible dream, and I needed to not push.

  My heart raced as Michael handed me my bag and said, “We might need to make some calls about New York’s offer.”

  “New York?” Jeremy switched his bag to his other arm and stared at us.

  Michael knelt down and told our son, “Yeah, they came back with the perfect contract.”

  Jeremy didn’t even blink. “Do I get a brand-new car when I’m old enough then?”

  Michael laughed, nodded, and hugged him as he stood. “Whatever one you want.”

  Jeremy held out his thumb and said, “I’m good then.”

  I blinked. My skin prickled like pins and needles stabbed at me. This wasn’t that easy.

  “That’s it? You want a car?”

  Jeremy stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language and then asked, “Was there something else you wanted, Mom?”

  Yesterday, he’d been upset about his friends and leaving school. I didn’t want to rehash that. My heart was heavy, and I hugged my waist as the word "no" screamed in my mind. I then said, “I…I want to talk to a realtor about a home with bedrooms, and a small lawn, and a nice kitchen as I like to cook.”

  The airport was full of people milling past without giving us a glance.

  My entire body trembled. I glanced around and hoped no one noticed me. Then Michael came with his arms open to hug and kiss me as he said, “We can get you a palace and have the kitchen done before we move in, if you agree.”

  How was he okay at a time like this? I was a walking disaster. My heart pounded as I massaged my forehead and said, “No, not yet. I need time.”

  He squeezed my hand and asked, “Time to what? We can do this together.”

  My eyebrows raised. This was crazy.

  “Don’t push.”

  He came to kiss me, but his phone rang. He held my hand and stared at Jeremy as he said, “Phil’s calling. Just give me ten seconds to say goodbye.”

  Michael stepped back to talk.

  I tried to breathe but my chest didn’t quite fill with air. Jeremy tugged on my sleeve. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything’s fine, Jeremy,” I told him but that wasn’t the truth.

  My skin had goosebumps and adrenaline rushed through me. If I lived in New York, my stomach would be twisted and I’d be on edge like this every moment of every day, for ten years.

  Jeremy said, “If you hate New York, tell Michael.”

  Again, it wasn’t dad or father or papa. Jeremy’d said "Michael". That was good, right? If I said no, my son couldn’t be that mad at me. I was irrational but moving would be bad. I took a breath and took a small comfort they hadn’t developed a proper bond, and that probably made me a bad mom.

  I should say something. Michael came back, phone in his pocket, and took my hands as he said, “Phil said no extension. I need to give an answer in seventy-two hours.”

  My stomach muscles tightened, and I practically trembled, but I pretended I was fine and went to my tiptoes to kiss him goodbye as I said, “Call me after your game tonight.”

  “You’ll be up?” He asked and held me.

  “Yeah.” This wasn’t as easy as I thought. I shouldn’t be this crazy. I needed to find my voice, but I said fast, “I’ll have a chance to think.”

  “That’s fair. I’ll miss you both,” he said, and then his lips met mine.

  For this one moment, the rest of the world disappeared. I was the same girl who'd met him in the Bahamas and splashed water in the pool at him until he kissed me.

  The memory roared back and made me forget where I was, until the kiss ended.

  And the people on their phones, the families talking, the wheels that were screeching all roared in my ears.

  I held my lips together and waved goodbye.

  Then, Jeremy took my hand and we walked over to check-in together.

  Michael watched us as we headed inside, and I held my head up.

  I had to admit flying first class had less lines, less stress, and even security was easier on us.

  I hardly noticed take off, flying, or landing.

  My son was safe. We were comfortable and soon we were back in familiar gray skies. We headed out and, at the curb, was my brown haired, brown-eyed sister who didn’t care that her curls were too long to frame her face as she wore bright turquoise glasses and hugged me. We tossed our bags in her trunk and we hopped in her car.

  A minute later, we drove onto the familiar needed-new-tar-on-the-road-but-it-was-never-in-the-city-budget bumpy highway. It tossed my backside on the drive and reminded me I was home.

  She asked, “Georgie, Jeremy, what’s going on?”

  I ignored how my entire body was tense and pivoted toward my sister and said, “Indigo, it’s good to see you.”

  She took one glance at me and said, “So we’ll stop and get a bottle of wine while you talk to me.”

  Jeremy called out from the back, “Mom’s upset that Michael needs to move to New York.”

  “I have wine at home,” I said.

  She took the backroad off the highway toward my house, and my skin crawled as she said, “I thought you were in love and happy with this baseball player.”

  I lowered my voice so Jeremy didn’t hear me as I said, “I can’t be Mom.”

  “You aren’t,” Indigo said like it wasn’t a big deal and drove into my garage as she said, “Unlike Mom, you show up for everything in Jeremy’s life. I’d say you’re more like Dad and his big heart.”

  That would be nice, but I didn’t see myself taking in every troubled kid in the world. She turned off her car and helped us with our bags. “I don’t see that. He was in charge and more commanding than I’d ever be. Even if I could be more like him, I don’t know if that’s enough to protect me.”

  “From what?”

  “From disappearing because I’m married.”

  Jeremy shook his head like he didn’t get it, but Indigo held the bags as I opened the door.

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Indigo said. “You’d have found a way to shine on your own because you’re special. Though, you marrying a baseball player is pretty awesome.”

  “Why?”

  “It gets me cool points in my office.”

  Jeremy tossed his shoes and said, “I’m going to my room, Mom.”

  He took off without waiting for an answer.

  But right now, I wasn’t upset. Indigo walked me to my kitchen and poured us glasses of wine. She handed it to me, and I asked her, “Why is my marrying Michael awesome besides your cool points? You don’t care about what people think about you.”

  “True.” Indigo walked with me into the living room where we’d spent countless hours sitting on my couch talking as she said, “I’ve done nothing but read up on your husband. He’s seriously hot. My bosses want me to use the new family connection to get him on cereal boxes.”

  Oh. This was about impressing her impossible boss at the advertising company that she hated. I shrugged and said, “Michael will be here in a week, you can ask him yourself.”

  “I don’t have a lot of time tonight to stay and dig everything out slowly like I normally would.” She sipped her wine and stared at me. I did the same as I wasn’t sure what to say anymore. Then she said, “For a bride, you don’t seem happy, Sis.”

  What could I do? Lie to my sister? I massaged the side of my face and hoped I hadn’t winced. T
hen I stared at my white colored wall and said, “I…I don’t want to leave my house and move to New York.”

  She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Tell him that.”

  I sipped and nodded my head as she was right. It took a while to get there but finally I flipped to face her and said, “I need to not be wishy-washy.”

  She finished her glass, stood, and said, “Well, you’re safe and I have to go.”

  Go? Indigo hadn’t said anything when I'd texted. I walked her to the door and asked, “Where?”

  She hugged me and took her keys out as she said, “I…I’m going with my boss to Vegas.”

  Normally, she complained all the time about her boss, but today she hadn’t complained once. I narrowed my gaze and asked, “This is fast. Are you eloping?”

  Her face went white like I’d shocked her, and she shook her head as she said, “Don’t be crazy. It’s work, though I did book the Venetian because your wedding pictures made me slightly envious.”

  My wedding. I’d been so lust-filled with love blooming in my eyes I hadn’t thought straight. Indigo checked her hair in the side mirror and I said, “I wanted to spend more time there.”

  “Have fun,” I called out.

  She waved and unlocked her car as she said, “It’s work, but I’ll check a few places out.”

  I watched a movie, showered, checked on Jeremy, who was doing his homework, made us dinner, got ready for bed, and finished my bottle of wine without anyone interrupting the day.

  It was like today was normal again.

  As I turned off the lights in my house to go to bed, my phone finally rang. I saw Jeremy’s light was out and headed to my room where I answered. “Michael, your game went late.”

  That sounded awful. My stomach flipped as that was no way to greet him. My palms sweated like I’d run a mile.

  “I’m three hours behind you today.” He said it like that didn’t mean it was after midnight.

  I ignored how my heart raced. This wasn’t calm or good. I closed my eyes as I said, “Right. Sorry.”

  What if I never figure out how to be calm? I cringed against the wall.

  Michael asked, “Are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes and ignored how my body trembled for real as I said, “Yes. I mean no.”

  He asked me, “What’s going on?”

  Time to speak my mind. I’m not my mother. I lifted my chin, not that he could see me. But I stilled and said fast, “I don’t want to go to New York.”

  “Georgie, I told you I wanted the money. I need the contracts to prove I’m the best in baseball.”

  There it was. The line. If I crossed it, I might just turn into my mother, the silent woman who went to the other room. I closed my eyes to shut out the world. I’d never meet his needs and he couldn’t meet mine. I shook but I said, “Then go without us. I can’t live there.”

  Michael said, “You’re being unreasonable.”

  My eyes opened. I was safe in my living room with my white walls. His words didn’t push me or make me tremble. I could breathe. This was the right choice.

  “So are you. If you loved me, you’d not ask this of me.”

  He said, “That’s being crazy. I can get whatever your heart desires if I take this job.”

  Money. That was his only goal. Not mine, not Jeremy. I picked up my wine glass and brought it to my sink. Then I said, “Then take it, but I’m not going anywhere near you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  I needed a broom and to stop shaking. I swallowed and said, “We shouldn’t have gone crazy and gotten married. It was a mistake.”

  He asked in a higher pitched tone, “You’re leaving me because I want New York?”

  “Yes,” I said and froze. I’d never be calm there. Once I stopped seeing Michael, then I’d be safe and not be pushed.

  “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “Goodbye Michael. We’re not going to New York,” I said and hung up to get my broom.

  Maybe I was wrong about marrying Michael and thinking we had a shot. I was never going to quietly transform into someone who doesn’t speak out about her life or her son. If I moved with him, it would start. We were all better off this way.

  Chapter 16

  Michael

  Never make phone calls in the car. I’d almost crashed a mile after I'd hung up the phone on my way back to the hotel. Luckily, I came to and slammed on the breaks.

  Georgie’s pretty smile replayed in my mind from the day we met at the pool. And now our wedding in Vegas when she walked under the green archways toward me on that gondola.

  Sleep hadn’t washed those pictures from my mind. Neither had driving to work the next day.

  My blood ran cold as I headed to the parking lot for players.

  We’re not going to New York. No discussion? Just no. I turned off my engine but stared at the palm trees of LA and tried to move. But I couldn’t. My memories of Georgie in the stands that day replayed. There she’d been, with my son.

  I never saw it coming that she’d just say no and was willing to get divorced.

  I’d spent my entire adult life working to be the best. Contracts showed how much teams valued the players and I wanted to be one of the highest in the league, because it meant for sure I was the best.

  I’d been trained since I was smaller than Jeremy for this and I was inches from achieving everything I’d worked for.

  What the fuck had happened? How did I fix this?

  I loved Georgie. I’d waited for seven years to find her again. But did that mean I had to give up everything I'd ever worked for?

  Now I needed to play. I needed to scream. I should have ignored her that day, but she’d been the angel I’d searched for, for years.

  But that had been a lie. An angel wouldn’t make me choose like this.

  Finally, I made it out of the car and dragged my ass into the game.

  Somehow, I needed to get rid of this cold sweat that made my spine tingle and win.

  Thirty million for ten years had always been the first dream.

  I’d spent my entire life working toward being the best.

  I went to my locker to grab my uniform.

  Rodriguez came beside me and stared at his old beat up Swatch watch that he wore at every game instead of any of the fancy ones everyone had bought him. “About fucking time, Irons.”

  “I need a shower,” I mumbled and stripped off my t-shirt that still had a small trace of Georgie’s hugs on it.

  I’d have to burn it if the smell didn’t dissipate. I tossed my sneakers in the locker and Rodriguez said, “Go clear your head, Pinstripes.”

  Maybe moving to New York and working with teammates I didn’t consider friends might be better. Less opinions I didn’t want to hear. I unbuttoned my pants and said, “Don’t be hating. Maybe if you up your stats, you’d have a shot at the stripes too.”

  Rodriguez stomped off. I wrapped a towel around my waist to not flaunt my junk in front of everyone when my phone rang. I sat in front of my locker and for a second wished it was Georgie, to tell me she’d been wrong.

  But once again my insides froze as I read the screen. I squeezed the phone in my palm and told myself to get over this and then answered, “Phil, what’s going on?”

  My agent asked, “Do you have a minute? I want to talk about your voicemail.”

  More players arrived but I didn’t care as I slouched in my corner and said, “Yeah. I told you…let’s sign.”

  “Hold off till tomorrow,” Phil said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He would make the best commission of his career if I did this. Money mattered.

  I needed to be the best. Though, my son and I when we tossed the ball played in my mind. I’d already missed years of him, and my skin grew hotter with regret.

  I couldn’t miss more of his life.

  Phil said, “I’m getting signals I’ll have another offer by the morning and it’s still within the seventy-two-hour window.”

/>   “Yeah?” I asked and wondered for a second if it would matter.

  I hadn’t told anyone, but I loved working with the Sooners and Georgie’d liked my house. If I had the money and Georgie back, then my life would be exactly as I hoped.

  Or was tomorrow too late?

  Phil said, “It might be more, might be nothing, but let’s see it first.”

  I lowered my voice. “Whatever you think is best. I’m loyal to the paycheck you get me for my skills.”

  “How’s Georgie?” Phil asked.

  Good question. I closed my eyes and remembered how her kiss still tingled on my lips. “She won't go to New York and wants a divorce if I pick there.”

  Phil said, “I’m sorry. You should talk to Gary.”

  “Who’s Gary?” I asked as it wasn’t a name I recognized.

  “A lawyer friend who specializes in helping pro-sports players with their divorces.”

  That was a knife on an open wound. I cringed and saw the pitcher returning to the locker next to me as I said, “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

  “It’s fine,” Phil said. “Just have a good game. Your offers might depend on it.”

  No pressure, right? Maybe a second offer was on the table if I did. I jumped up, still holding my phone when the pitcher, now in his gray pants, stared at me and pointed to the door. “You still naked? We have fucking warm ups and then a game to get to already.”

  My mind raced. I was crazy.

  I grabbed my soap and said, “Shut the fuck up, Rodriguez. Warm your arm up and stop getting in my shit. I’ll be right out.”

  “You’ll be fun to talk to out there tonight,” he said as I started to walk away.

  I slowed down. Georgie had nothing to do with the game. Teams live and die by working together. I couldn’t face him, but I said, “I…I need to clear my head and relax. I promise to get my head in the game out there.”

  “See you out there then,” he called out as I headed into the shower.

  The water and steam usually did the trick when it was too many drinks the night before. Clean-faced was almost my standard, and from what I knew of New York, a requirement of theirs I’d clearly meet.

 

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