The Locker Room

by Quinn, Meghan

  “And you’re only realizing this now?” Ouch. That stings.

  “I know it’s stupid, but honestly, we never really talked about anything like that. He’s talked to me about practice and the guys on the team, but we’ve never spoken about the future because we’ve been taking baby steps. Small steps that have led to one of the best things in my life . . . and that’s going to be taken away from me.”

  “How do you know—?”

  Knock. Knock.

  We all turn our heads toward the hallway that leads to our door.

  “Who’s that?” I ask, wiping away my tears as best as possible.

  “I told Julianne across the hall she can borrow my straightener.” Lindsay gets up and heads down the hallway where we hear her open the door. “Let me . . . oh, hi.”

  There isn’t a return hello, but instead heavy footsteps sound off down the hallway. Crap. I’d know those footsteps anywhere, and before I can direct Dottie to get out of my room, Knox appears at the doorway, looking distressed and with damp hair that looks like his hand has been running rapidly through it.

  “Knox.” I sit up, trying to hide the emotion bubbling up inside me, but he can see it all over my face.

  Keeping his eyes trained on me, he says, “Dottie, would you mind giving us some privacy?”

  “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

  She hops down from my bed and pats Knox on the shoulder before closing the door behind her. Still staring me down, he says, “You don’t have a migraine.”

  There’s no use lying to him, so I shake my head and say, “No, I don’t.”

  “So you lied to leave the game. Why?”

  “It just became . . . too overwhelming.”

  “What did?” He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us until he’s sitting on my bed.

  Hands on my lap, I twist them together, wondering how I should go about this. Ever since I’ve known Knox, he’s always been upfront about everything—well, besides this being his last semester—so I decide to be the same.

  “When were you going to tell me this was your last semester here?”

  Visible regret washes over his face as he turns toward me on the bed and takes my hands in his. Just from the sorrowful look, I can’t find it within me to be mad at him, especially since the reason he’s leaving is to pursue his dreams, something he’s been working toward for so long.

  “I was going to tell you this week. Been waiting to gain the courage.”

  Our fingers twine together. “So, tell me then.”

  He pushes his hand through his hair then pulls on the back of his neck before tilting his head in my direction. His beautiful blue eyes connect with mine, eyes that have pulled me into some of the happiest moments I’ve had. But now, I look into those eyes as a blow is about to be delivered that I’m not sure I can come back from.

  “At the beginning of the school year, I thought I’d enter the draft after I graduated, but I spoke with Coach, and he said I’d be killing my career before it started if I didn’t enter the draft after this year. There are teams ready to make an offer, and they’re just waiting.” He’s known since the beginning of the school year?

  This should be exciting for him, to talk about his career right before it booms into something amazing, but instead his voice is somber. I hate that.

  I lift his chin and smile at him. “Knox, that is so freaking amazing. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I am,” he sighs. “But I know it will put a strain on what we have going on.”

  I press my hand to his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me, Knox. Focus on your season and what’s to come.”

  And I mean that wholeheartedly. There’s no doubt in my mind that I love this man; he’s resurrected my heart from the ruins Neil left behind, and because of that, I want him to be happy, to do what he’s meant to do—play baseball.

  Even if that means I’m out of the picture.

  “But I am worried about you, Em. This . . . Christ.” He stands from the bed and starts pacing. His steps are almost frantic, unsure which way to go. “I wasn’t planning on this, getting involved with someone. Coach Disik thought I was a dumbass for starting something up with you, but I couldn’t stop myself.” He looks up, his eyes connecting with mine like an arrow straight to my heart. “That first day, Em, when I caught your map with my face and peeled it back, revealing your stunning features, my heart hitched in my chest.” Tears begin to well in my eyes. “And then you opened your mouth. Your wit knocked me on my ass, and I knew I had to be around you, to make you a part of my life. It was stupid to pursue you, knowing I was leaving after the end of this semester, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it. Not one damn thing.”

  “I wouldn’t either,” I admit, even though my heart is slowly crumbling in my chest, the dread of what’s to come hovering above us.

  “So, then let’s make this work, Em.” Excitement brews inside him as he comes back to the bed. “I know it’s going to be hard but—”

  “I think you should focus on your future, Knox.”

  His face falls. “Em, that includes you.”

  I shake my head, a tear falling down my cheek that he quickly wipes away. “You and I both know how hard that would be. I have at least three more years here until I finish my master’s. Who knows where you’re going to end up. The season is long with not much break between.”

  “But you have the summer off. You can come visit.”

  “I have to work during the summer, Knox. And I don’t have the money to fly around wherever you are.”

  “I’ll pay for it.”

  I give him a get real look. “If you think you’re going to be flying your girlfriend around the country on a minor league player’s income, you’re delusional.”

  He grips the back of his head angrily and stands again, both elbows pointed out, his shirt riding high on his waistband. “Then what the hell are you saying, Emory?”

  Pained and frustrated, my name doesn’t sound beautiful falling off his tongue, not this time. It feels like he used it as a punishment rather than a term of endearment.

  Knowing this is going to be one of the most heartbreaking things I ever do, I swallow hard and pour my heart out, ready for it to be sliced. “I’m saying this is going to be too hard. You’re going to be working your ass off on and off the field, preparing for the next chapter in your life. Moments spent together will become few and far between and then you’re going to leave. We don’t even know where.”

  “It could be Chicago.”

  “It could be, but their farm teams are scattered around in different states, so that still doesn’t work. I want nothing more than to be with you, Knox, to come home to your arms every night, but in reality, that’s not what’s going to happen. We’re both on two different paths in our lives, and I don’t want to try to make this work when we both know deep down, it won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.” His voice rises. “Why am I the only one here committed to us?”

  “I’m committed,” I answer, feeling like I was just slapped in the face.

  “You’re not committed, Em. You’re throwing in the towel at the first sign of things getting difficult. Does Christmas break not mean anything to you? We were separated for a month and we made that work. How is this any different?”

  “Because there was an end date. I knew I was going to see you again in January, when school came back. And I’m sorry if you thought Christmas break was a walk in the park, but it wasn’t for me. I missed you. Terribly. To the point that I would cry at night, wishing I was in your arms rather than a cold, lonely bed.” His face softens. “It wasn’t easy for me. None of this has been easy for me. You’re . . . you. Amazing, obnoxious, consuming you. I get lost in you, Knox. You’ve become one of my best friends, and I love sharing the good and bad days with you. I love giving you shit, because you give it right back. When I’m around you . . .” All I want to do is bury my head in your chest and let you hold me for hours on
end. “When I’m with you, I know who I am. I like who I am.”

  “Then why the fuck are you trying to end this?” he yells, arms out to the side. “Stay committed to me, Em.” His hand raps his chest. “Make this work.”

  “I am committed to you.” I wipe away another tear, my breath starting to become heavier and heavier as my throat closes. “I’m committed to seeing you happy.”

  “You want me to be happy? Well guess what, Em, you are what makes me happy. You. And you’re taking that away.”

  Oh God. I suck in a breath and will my shaky limbs to hold strong. I want nothing more than to erase this day and go back to how things were—without the knowledge that Knox will be leaving—but I can’t do that, nor can I hold him back either.

  “Is this because you don’t trust me to be out on the road? You don’t trust that I won’t hook up with someone else? I told you, I’m not your fucking ex-boyfriend. I would never treat you the way he did. Ever.”

  “That’s not it. I trust you, how can you question that?”

  “I don’t know,” he answers angrily, still pacing. “Fuck, I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. We should be out to dinner with my mom, celebrating the win, but instead, my fucking girlfriend is breaking up with me.” He sinks into the chair of my desk and rests his forearms on his knees, completely deflated.

  I don’t know what to do. How to fix this, how to make him see what I see. After watching him play today, his future is going to be incredible, and I refuse to be the reason he doesn’t give it his all. This is all for him. Yes, I’m shattering my own heart. Yes, I feel like I’m breaking into a million pieces. I’m barely strong enough to lose him now, so I know I’ll never recover if I grow closer through experiencing even more amazing moments with this incredible man. I just can’t. And I don’t want him feeling torn and undecided because of me. That’s not fair to him.

  “How can this be any different, Knox? If this were a perfect world, how would you play out this relationship? Do you see a future with me beyond dating?”

  His head lifts, but he stays hunched over.

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” The muscles in his jaw pulse as he stares me down. “I see more than a future, Em. Fuck, I . . . I . . .”

  “Don’t say it. Please don’t say those words, not right now.” I shake my head, tears in a constant flow now. “Not in this moment.”

  He must sense the kind of impact those three words would have, how they’d be coated in negativity rather than a positive, joyful moment they should be cherished in, because he shuts his mouth and folds his hands together.

  His teeth roll over his bottom lip before he says, “If I had a choice, this is how it would play out. We’d move past this moment, you’d come back to the loft, and you’d sleep in my arms. We’d stay together the rest of the semester growing our bond stronger until the moment I have to leave. From there, we’d promise to make the effort to see each other. Talk every night, send each other gifts, just like over winter break. Only an extended period this time. It will be hard, we’ll get in fights, but in the long run, we’d always come back to each other, because”—he motions between us—“we’re meant to be together.”

  I curl my knees to my chest and rest my face in my hands, trying to envision how that would work. He makes it seem so simple, and yet, three years is a really long time, three of the most important years of his career, where he needs to work his way up through the farm system. He can’t be worrying about me and where my head is at. He needs to worry about himself, and that’s something I won’t budge on. This is his dream, and I’ll be damned if I distract him from giving it his all.

  “I care about you, Knox, and I want nothing more than to follow through on what you just laid out, but we need to be real about this. You’re going to be consumed with baseball, and I want you to be consumed by it, I want it to be your life, your obsession. And that can’t happen if you’re worrying about me and how I’m doing, what my mental state for that week is because I’ll be honest, it will be erratic with you gone. That’s not fair.” I slide off the bed and walk to him, his large sweatshirt hitting me mid-thigh. I push him back on the chair and take a seat on his lap. His arms immediately wrap around me as I lift his chin so he has to look me in the eyes. “Rule number one.” I lightly press a kiss across his lips, taking in the softness one last time. When I pull away, I say, “Friends forever and always.”

  “Shit,” he mutters, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. “Baby, please don’t do this, we can make it work.”

  “We could struggle to make it work and then, a year in, we break up because we can’t handle the distance, the unpredictability, and then we’d be worse off than if we end things now. You know I’m right.”

  He presses his head against my shoulder.

  “But we’ll always be there for each other; we signed on it. Friends first, Knox.”

  “I don’t want to be your friend. I want to be your boyfriend, your goddamn forever.” His hands drive up my sides, holding my ribs, holding on to me tightly. “I want you forever, Em.”

  When he pulls away, tears falls from his eyes and in that moment, every nerve ending in my body goes numb as I watch the man I love cry—cry over what we had and what we’re losing. It’s the last thing I want to do, to inflict this kind of pain on Knox, but I don’t have a choice. He needs to be free, to focus, to be the man, the exceptional ball player he deserves to be.

  Mustering every ounce of courage I have left in my bones, I wipe his tears away and say, “I want you forever too, but I know when forever has to change.” I cup both his cheeks and stare him in the eyes. “You are bound for wonderfully epic things, and I can’t wait to see you accomplish everything you deserve. And I will be there, Knox. I will be the girl cheering for you on the sidelines, but in a different capacity, as your friend. The way we started.”

  “I want more. I want you.”

  I press a light kiss across his lips one last time, unable to stop myself. “I want you too, but I know what it’s like to get lost in someone else and forget about everything you worked for. I won’t let that happen to you. I refuse.” Tears run down both of our faces. “You’re going to be amazing, Knox Gentry, absolutely amazing. And later on, down the road, when we’re thirty and unable to handle a hangover anymore, I hope we’re still friends, still cheering one another on, still in each other’s lives, because you mean so much to me.” I love you. I love you. I love you.

  Friends forever.

  That’s what we promised each other.

  But sometimes promises are made to be broken . . .

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  KNOX

  “Gentry, my office, now,” Coach Disik shouts into the locker room and then quickly disappears.

  I groan and throw a shirt on over my head, my hair still wet from my shower, my muscles aching from the one-hundred-plus pushups we were forced to do at practice . . . because of me.

  My head is not in the fucking game, because it’s back at Emory’s dorm room, along with my heart. Two days ago, she tore my world apart. I understand what she was saying, her reasoning, but what I don’t get was why she wouldn’t at least fucking try to keep us. I just want her to try.

  She doesn’t want me to get lost in her, well, too fucking late for that. I’m pretty sure I got lost in her the minute I drunkenly held her boob in my hand and passed out.

  “Coach is going to rip you a new one,” Carson points out. “It looked like he wanted to shove his bat up your ass during practice.”

  “Give him a break,” Holt says from the side. “He’s hurting.”

  “Because of a girl, and that’s why Coach is going to kill him.”

  I came home that night, without Emory, and went straight to my room. Thanks to Carson being a nosey motherfucker . . . and because my mom asked him to check on me, I ended up having a heart-to-heart with him and Holt about what happened. Carson, the dickhead, agreed with Emory, saying she had made really good poin
ts, but Holt felt for me, saying if his girl did that he wouldn’t know what to do with his life, especially since he took her to the locker room after the game and sealed the goddamn deal.

  Maybe I should have done that, even though I don’t believe in the legend. Maybe I should have given it a shot. If I did, Emory and I might still be together.

  What the hell am I thinking? No locker room bullshit is going to change Emory’s way of thinking. The minute she made up her mind, there was nothing I could say or do to change it.

  And she wants to be fucking friends.

  Yeah, that sounds like a whole bunch of fucking fun. I want to be friends with the girl I love rather than be the man who gets to kiss her when she’s sad, or hug her when she’s happy. Sure, friends, what a great idea, so much fucking better than being able to take her naked beneath me and watch as I make her come over and over again.

  Yup, friends is way better.

  I stand and slip my hat over my head. “Mom is making everyone dinner before she leaves tomorrow. She’s serving at seven, prepare to eat.”

  I take off toward Coach’s office, knowing I’m about to be roasted like I deserve. The boys will head back to the loft for my mom’s going-away party. When I spoke with her last night and told her what happened, she blamed herself. I told her no matter how Emory found out, she still would have had the same reaction. Emory thinks she’s saving me, helping me, but in the long run, she’s hurting me, because I need her. She takes all the stress away. She wants baseball to be my obsession, I get that, but baseball has been my obsession ever since I can remember. But I now truly understand what Holt meant about his girl. Emory’s been my retreat, my place where I can step back and recharge. I know my game was more on point because I wasn’t eating, sleeping, and drinking baseball. She gave me a broader perspective. She gave me a chance to breathe, but now she’s let me go and that’s been taken away.

  I don’t bother knocking on the partially open door of Coach’s office, but walk through and take a seat in front of him, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.