Finally Us (True Love)

by Bentley, Harper

  Damn it. I hate that there’s a bad side to all of this.

  “Baby,” Bax says, pulling her tighter to him, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

  “I’m gonna miss you guys too. A lot. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I honestly appreciate it so much,” I tell them.

  Amanda sniffs. “Well, if you’re ever in town or just need a place to go, you know you’re always welcome to stay here.”

  She’d given me a lot of advice about El after our first breakup, and both she and Bax have been here for me throughout my injury and this last shit that’s happened between El and me. They’d told me about the problems they’d had early on in their marriage when Bax had cheated on her, but they’d gotten through it and now had four awesome kids, an amazing relationship and were a huge inspiration for me.

  “Thanks,” I reply and I have to clear my throat.

  “All right. That’s enough feels for now,” Bax says. “C’mon, Jag, let’s go check out the beer pong game they’ve got going in the family room.”

  Before I follow Bax to the other room, Amanda gives me a hug, telling me it’s all going to work out great. I hope she’s right.

  Less than a week later, I’m in Chicago. Dad flew out to LA and helped me get everything in order with moving then we drove my Camaro home. I have to say, my new condo in the Trump Tower in downtown Chicago is fucking awesome. Hardwood floors, two bedrooms, two bathrooms and floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s east facing looking out on the river and Lake Michigan, and let me tell you, the view alone is worth what I paid for it. It’s beautiful, especially at night. Mom helped me pick it out, and I decided if I was going to be living here for a while, I might as well go big.

  “Jesus Christ,” Ross says when he and Tyler Callihan come visit me that Sunday night.

  “C’mon in,” I say with a laugh.

  “Dude, we just rode the elevator up with Derrick Rose,” Tyler says with a stunned look on his face.

  “Yeah, my realtor said there are a couple of other pros who live here,” I tell him.

  “That’s so fucking cool,” Ross comments.

  “Damn, Jensen, your place makes mine look like a hovel,” Tyler says as he goes to the windows that line the east wall of the living room.

  “It’s just a place,” I reply with a shrug, coming into the living room and handing each a beer.

  “Bet there are some fucking hot-ass chicks who live here too,” Tyler says then takes a drink. “Probably some supermodels.”

  I cringe. “God, I fucking hope not. That’s the last thing I need.”

  Ross chokes on his beer. “No shit. El finds out, you’re toast, man.”

  We sit in the living room and I turn on a football game.

  “How’s that going, anyway?” Tyler asks.

  I frown as I look at my beer bottle before answering. “Don’t know. Gonna have to take it slow, I think. Things are pretty fucked up so far.”

  Tyler nods then continues watching the game. Then Ross throws out there, “Bec said El’s been going out with some guy.”

  And my heart stops. I look at him trying to take in what he just said. I think he said El’s dating someone. “What?”

  “Fuck,” he mumbles.

  I stand up now and look down at him. “What?”

  “Jag…” Ross stands now.

  “What the fuck did you just say?” My breathing has sped up and I can feel the rage taking over. Jesus Christ.

  Tyler jumps up and gets between us facing me. “Calm down, buddy. Ross? What’s going on?”

  “Goddamn it. You know how I am with secrets, Jag,” Ross explains.

  “What the fuck? You’ve known this and haven’t told me? What the fuck!” I’m screaming at the top of my lungs and seriously consider throwing my beer bottle at the fucking windows. Or him. Either works.

  “Calm down, bro.” Tyler takes the bottle from me and puts it somewhere that I don’t see then leads me by the shoulders backwards as I cuss out Ross over his shoulder into one of the bedrooms that’s still empty. I’m breathing so heavily I’m seeing fucking black spots before my eyes as I pace back and forth. “Jag, calm the fuck down.”

  “He fucking knew and didn’t tell me! I’m gonna kick his fucking ass!” I’m so goddamned pissed right now. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling it, as I pace trying to understand what the hell just went down.

  El’s dating someone. She’s moved on. She doesn’t want me back. And now I’m even angrier and I try getting past Tyler to go back to the living room to beat the shit out of Ross.

  “Desiree Beckman,” Tyler says suddenly which gets my attention and I stop trying to get by him and look at him.

  “What?”

  “Desiree Beckman. Remember her?”

  It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. “Yeah, I remember her.”

  “Yeah? Good.”

  “What’s your fucking point?” I spit out.

  “I was in love with her, man,” he says.

  I know this. Our sophomore year in high school, Desiree had been a senior and Tyler had fallen hard for her. He’d just moved here, so he didn’t know about her, but we all knew she had a boyfriend who was away at college and that she was just messing around with Tyler for fun, but none of us had to heart to tell him.

  “You guys kept that shit to yourselves then she broke my fucking heart,” he mutters.

  I swallow. I guess this is pretty much the same thing. How’d he keep from killing all of us?

  He looks at me. “Fucking broke my heart. And you didn’t tell me. So chill. I know how it fucking feels.”

  “How’d you handle it?” I ask, seriously wondering how I’ll ever forgive Ross.

  “Remember when Mr. Vining gave you all community service because he thought you painted the graffiti on the gym doors?”

  I blink then stare at him. “You sneaky son of a bitch. We picked up trash along the highway for an entire month. Not to mention the fact that I got the Camaro taken away from me that entire time!”

  He smiles wickedly. “That’s how.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that and shake my head. But then I think about Ross keeping this shit from me and I still want to rip him a new one. I clench my teeth and take a deep breath through my nose trying to get my shit under control.

  “How can I do this?” I ask. It’s a loaded question.

  He shrugs. “I’m a lawyer. I can get his ass in trouble easily. The other part? Not sure.”

  I huff out another laugh. “You should be one of those guys who talks people down off the ledge.” Then I narrow my eyes at him. “Or not.” Looking at the entire situation, Ross is the least of my worries.

  “Don’t have all the answers. But for now, cut him some slack. He was put in a bad situation.”

  I take another deep breath then pace the room again, my hands clasped behind my head as I look at the floor.

  After a couple minutes he asks, “You good?” I stop and look at him then nod slowly. He raises an eyebrow at me to make sure and I nod again. “All right. Let’s do this.”

  We walk back into the living room and Ross is standing by the bar looking at me remorsefully. “Jag, I’m sorry, man. Really,” he says.

  “Tell me,” I say.

  He takes a deep breath. “You sure?”

  “Fucking tell me,” I say as I grit my teeth.

  He takes another deep breath. “Bec and El went shopping last week. They didn’t know I was home when they came in and I heard them talking about some guy that El’s been seeing, Austin something. When El left, I confronted Bec but all she’d tell me is that it’s none of my business what El does.”

  I also take a deep breath, trying to keep my cool. “And you didn’t tell me. Why?”

  He looks like he’s in pain now. “Man, I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I thought about it, thinking if I’d wanna know if Bec was doing that, and I didn’t know if I did. I mean, yeah, I guess it’d be better to know than not, but I do
n’t know. And I knew you were coming back home, so I was gonna tell you but then I thought you had so much other shit going on right now, I didn’t wanna add to it. I’m sorry.”

  After another deep breath, I try to start thinking more clearly, but all I can come up with is that although it’s not his fault, he still could’ve told me, so I remain pissed.

  “And you don’t know who he is?” I ask.

  “Bec wouldn’t tell me. That’s all I know.”

  “You think it’s someone she met at work?”

  He shrugs uneasily.

  “Someone she’s working on? Another fucking pro athlete?”

  He shrugs again.

  Well, this is a game changer. Here I’ve been biding my time thinking all I had to do was wait a little longer then make my move. Since El was the one who broke it off, I thought that maybe if I gave her a little more time, showed her that I’m not doing the things the tabloids say I’m doing, she’d be over shit and we could move forward. But she’s gone and changed the rules.

  I know this is my fault. I should’ve let her know I was in town, told her about the Cubs. I mean, what’d I expect would happen, she’d be sitting at home every night waiting for me? And I did tell her the last time we talked that I was no longer her concern and to leave me alone. Well, not as nicely as that, but whatever. She’s also called a couple times but I haven’t answered or called her back, not having a clue as to what I’d say. Now I see my indecision’s been a double-edged sword that’s just been waiting around to stab me in the ass.

  Now as I think about what’s going on with her, a part of me wants to go hunt her down and tell her she’s mine. Another part is shocked that she’d do this to us. The last part wants to find the bastard she’s been seeing and rip his goddamned head off.

  “What’re you gonna do, man?” Tyler asks.

  I’m so screwed up right now, I’m not sure what to do. Ross awkwardly hands me a beer. I look at him for a couple seconds then I drink it down. “Nothing,” I say as I set the empty bottle on the bar.

  “Nothing?” Tyler asks, looking shocked as he pulls his head back in disbelief.

  “Nothing. Not right now, anyway,” I reply having no fucking idea what I’m talking about which just makes me feel even more like shit. I haven’t been prepared for any of this, and since I hurt my arm, I’ve somehow lost focus on what needs to be fixed with El and me. I so deserve this.

  Fuck.

  There’s a knock at the door and Ross goes to answer. It’s the Chinese food I ordered and he ends up paying for it which I know is one of his ways of apologizing for what’s happened.

  I get out plates and silverware, setting it all on the bar, and I feel like I’m in quicksand, like everything’s going in slow motion. I think I might be in shock or some shit.

  As we dish the food onto our plates, Tyler says, “You sure about that? I mean, you know, if you leave it alone and do nothing, well, she could…”

  “I know what I’m doing,” I cut him off. Huge lie. But I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.

  We sit back down and watch the ballgame but the evening’s pretty much shit after that. All I can do is think of El with another man and it makes my blood fucking boil. When I find out who it is, I’ll kill him.

  I have a meeting with the Cubs’ manager and coaches the next morning. I slept like shit the night before, tossing and turning, imagining El with another guy, and it was all I could do to keep from calling her and finding out what the fuck’s going on, which probably would’ve just started a fight. Oh, and the thought that this new guy might’ve answered the phone at two in the morning may have deterred a call too. I mean, I’d like to play in at least one Cubs game before going to prison for committing murder.

  Now I sit in a boardroom with the General Manager, the team manager (who’s told me to call him “Coach”), the pitching coach, two people who sit on the Board of Directors and are part owners, an attorney who has the contract for me to sign, my new attorney to look it over and several media members.

  “We’re really glad to have you, Jag,” Coach says.

  “I’m glad to be here. Playing for the Cubs is a lifelong dream come true,” I reply with a grin to the flashing of cameras.

  The meeting continues for several minutes longer where the lawyer representing the team goes over the details of my salary with me then my lawyer checks things out, making sure to read the fine print, and when he’s satisfied, he tells me it’s safe to sign. After that’s done, everyone but Coach leaves and now it’s time for the reporters ask me questions.

  “So Jag, how hard was it to leave the Dodgers?” one of the local reporters asks.

  “To be honest, it was kinda tough. That’s where I started, where I got my first experience. But I’m so happy to be back home, especially to be a Cub now. They’ve been my favorite team from the day I took my first breath, I think.” There’s a smattering of laughter and I continue. “So although I’ll miss my teammates back in LA, I’m excited to begin a new chapter in my life with the Cubs.”

  “Hey, Jag, Dan Rogers from ESPN Magazine. I hear your salary got bumped way up in the trade. With your injury still not fully healed, how fair do you think it is that you’ll be paid that amount just to be sidelined?”

  Damn.

  “Well, Dan, I’m working extremely hard to be ready by training camp then move into the lineup as a starter. I’ve had several good prognoses that I’m healing rapidly and will be ready by February so once that happens, I’ll be able to start earning every dollar I make.”

  “Jag, how will the distance affect your relationship with Alessandra Alvarez?”

  I clench my teeth and take a deep breath in through my nose, letting it out slowly. I knew some asshole was going to go there. “I have no relationship with her.”

  “So you’ve broken up,” the reporter pries.

  “There was nothing to break up,” I explain and they all scribble away on their pads as Coach snorts from where he’s sitting beside me.

  “I heard you were dating actor Ariana Evans. How’s that going to work with her being on the west coast and you here?”

  And I’m done. I don’t answer the question and stand thanking them for being there and then it’s over. I’ve signed my contract, everyone’s gone and now I’m officially a Cub.

  “Fucking lunatics,” Coach mumbles as he takes me on a tour of the facilities. “You did good, kid. Always prying into your life wanting the juicy bullshit, ruining your personal stuff you got goin’ on.”

  I nod and look over at him as we walk.

  He glances at me and says, “What? I was a player once too, you know. Ruined the best thing I ever had. Scarlet Lipowski. Damn, she was beautiful. But the media fuckers linked me to some goddamned actress and that was it. Scarlet left and that was the end of that. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been married to Emily for goin’ on thirty years and it’s been great. It’s just that Scarlet was my first real love and I hated losing her in that way. You stick to your guns, son.”

  There are a couple people wandering around and he introduces me to them, some of them coaches, some maintenance guys. He takes me to the training room and introduces me to one of the trainers who’s working out.

  “Isaac, this is Jag Jensen. Traded from the Dodgers,” Coach says.

  Isaac holds his hand out to shake mine. “Right. Torn rotator cuff. Pitched through the pain, I heard.”

  I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, that’d be me, the dumbass, if you will.”

  Isaac laughs. “You had a no-hitter going, man. I totally understand. If you’da known you’d end up where you are, I know you woulda backed down. Am I right?”

  “Most definitely,” I agree with him.

  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around,” he says with a smile then continues his workout, picking up a dumbbell and curling it.

  “There’s your locker,” Coach points out when we’re back in the clubhouse then we go into his office and sit. “You’ve got appointments
at ProSport tomorrow and Thursday for physical therapy.” He hands me a card that has the days and times on it. “That’ll be your schedule, Tuesdays and Thursdays for now. They’ve already talked to your previous therapist and got the information on you, so they should be good to go. Questions?”

  “What about spring training?” I ask and hold my breath as I wait for his answer.

  “Well, we’ll have to see what the therapist says. Sounds like your last one thought you might be ready by then, but we’ll get a read on you this week and go from there. Won’t be a big deal if you sit it out and take that time to heal some more.”

  Shit. I don’t want to “sit it out,” but I nod anyway. I hear voices coming from the clubhouse and Coach hollers at them.

  “Winters! Eddington! Get your asses in here!”

  Two players come into the office and Coach introduces us. Winters plays left field and Eddington is one of the relief pitchers.

  “Scott Winters. Glad to have you, man,” Winters says and shakes my hand.

  “Austin. Rotator cuff, huh?” Eddington asks as we shake hands.

  “Yeah. I was stupid,” I say with a chuckle. Seems everyone knows I’m a dumbass now.

  “Been there,” he answers with a laugh. “Although I never injured it when I had a no-hitter going on. Must’ve been tough to let it get away, man.”

  I look at him for a second and say, “I know you. You pitched for Clemson, right?”

  “Yeah, I did. You were at South Carolina. You guys stomped us pretty much every year,” he says with a chuckle.

  “Wouldn’t go that far,” I say, chuckling with him.

  “It is what it is,” he returns.

  After they leave, Coach asks again if I have questions. I don’t, so he tells me he’ll talk to me in a couple weeks when the physical therapist gives him a report. I leave his office and walk out of Wrigley Field, my new home.

  And it’s fucking awesome.

  Chapter 7

  El

  I’m showing a hockey player who’s just had surgery for a torn ACL how to induce patellar mobility to break up scar tissue when I hear my coworker Trina walk by and a voice I’d recognize if I were dead and buried six-feet under.