Fighting For It

by A. Aubry

  I gasped, not really expecting that answer. I thought maybe they just had a lot of fights, that something went wrong, and it just didn’t work out.

  “How’d you find out?” I asked.

  “When she told me that she was a month pregnant and there was no way in hell it could have been mine because I was away at spring trainin’ with the team.”

  “Oh, Jackson,” I threw my arms around his neck and pulled him to me.

  He held onto me tightly as he rested his head on my shoulder. Jackson was probably a foot taller than me, so he had to hunch quite a bit, but he wasn’t complaining.

  “I was goin’ to tell you, Madeline. It was just difficult with the volume of the music. I wasn’t expectin’ her to be here…especially because she is pregnant. All I am waitin’ for is for her to sign the paperwork and I will be free of her after bein’ manipulated by her for years into thinkin’ that she wasn’t fuckin’ around behind my back.”

  “How long were you two together?” I asked softly.

  “We dated for just shy of two years before I proposed, got married a month later in more of a whirlwind weddin’, and then we were married for ten months.”

  I laughed softly, “So, a long fucking time.”

  He leaned back and looked into my eyes, “Yeah. Too long wasted with the wrong woman.”

  We gazed at each other, “How will you know when you find the right one then if she was the wrong one?”

  Jackson shrugged a shoulder, “I guess I will just have to follow my instincts.”

  His lips met mine, soft and hesitant at first but as soon as I kissed him back the kiss changed to hot and needy. Jackson pushed me back against the building as my fingers tangled in his hair. This time when I moaned as his tongue touched mine, the music wasn’t around us to block it out. When it happened the first time, I just thought it was because I hadn’t been kissed in what felt like a long time…now I wasn’t so sure I could convince myself that it was just a fluke that it happened again.

  I pulled back as I tried to gasp for air, our kisses searing up any that was in my lungs before, “I…I don’t normally do this, Jackson.”

  He smiled at me and put his hand on my cheek, “Neither do I.”

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better, aren’t you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Why would I say that to make you feel better?”

  I laughed, “Because look at you. You’re fucking gorgeous. Girls probably throw themselves at you.”

  “If I’m being honest, yes they do. But I don’t go around makin’ out with different girls all the time. When I kissed you out on the dance floor, it was just somethin’ that I couldn’t keep from happenin’. I felt this connection with you and the next thing I knew I was kissin’ you.”

  My gaze fixed on his lips. All I wanted to do was kiss him again. That idea was cut short when a man came up beside us.

  “Jack, we gotta head out. We have a game tomorrow afternoon and it’s getting late.”

  Was it really possible that two people in this world were oblivious to the fact that our arms were wrapped around one another?

  “Uh, Owen. I’m a little busy at the moment…if you couldn’t tell,” he tilted his head in my direction.

  “Yeah, I can see that. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have an afternoon game.”

  Jackson sighed and leaned his forehead against mine as our eyes met once again, “You gonna forgive me if I just take off on you?”

  I bit my lip and acted as though I was thinking about it which brought a chuckle out of Jackson.

  “I guess I could forgive you…if you give me your number, that is.”

  Fuck. I was being bold. I never asked a guy for their number. It was just something I was always too afraid to do. Jackson brought his phone out and unlocked it before handing it over to me.

  “Put your number in and text yourself since as far as I can tell—and my hands have been all over you tonight—you don’t have your phone stashed anywhere,” he smirked.

  I looked at his friend who pretended not to be listening before I hit his chest with a light tap, “Maybe I shouldn’t give you my number then.”

  Jackson kissed me hard and my head spun, “That change your mind?”

  “I better not be regretting this decision,” I teased as I typed in my phone number and sent a text off to myself.

  Giving Jackson back his phone, he was leaning in to give me one last kiss when his friend decided to pull him away. He mumbled something to Jackson who looked over his shoulder and waved to me. Well that felt impersonal, but oh well. I went back inside and spent another hour dancing with my friends like I had originally planned to. When we were all too exhausted to continue, we said our goodbyes and I drove myself home.

  It was an odd thing just how excited I was to get into my pajamas when I got home. Was it just me who would change into pajama pants almost as soon as she got home from work? If it was…then I had a problem. My makeup came off easily as I put my hair up on the top of my head in a messy bun and climbed into bed. As I was setting my phone down, it began to ring. Jackson’s name lit up my screen. It was nearly two in the morning…what was he doing calling me?

  “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep, Mr. I’ve got an afternoon game tomorrow?” I teased when I answered.

  I heard him laugh, “I just wanted to make sure you got home alright. That that douchebag of an ex didn’t harass you after I left.”

  Leaning back against my pillows, I let out a contended sigh, “I’m home and in bed myself. But no, Lucas didn’t bother me again. I danced with my friends then came back here.”

  “Good. I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly. Owen isn’t exactly known for bein’ empathetic to one’s situation.”

  “I could tell, he looked rather stone faced. Please don’t tell me he has a girl who enjoys that aspect of him…”

  “No, he has been single for the five years I have known him. Maybe if he got laid more often then he wouldn’t be such an emotionless prude.”

  “Jackson, that’s kind of rude,” I giggled.

  “It’s the truth,” he chuckled, “Anyways…I was hopin’ that I could take you out tomorrow night.”

  Shit. I had promised myself I would work all day on those rewrites for my publisher. This book was going to be the death of me if they kept requesting that I rewrite and edit any more of my book.

  “I’ve actually got a shit ton of work to do tomorrow night. What about Monday night?” I bit my lip.

  “Fuck, I didn’t even ask you what you do…”

  Wow, he really didn’t. Then again, our mouths were a little twisted up in one another.

  “I write for the Pioneer Press, but I am also working on getting my book published. My publisher wants me to work on a few of my chapters to revise them which I was going to do tomorrow.”

  He hummed for a second, “That sounds like a great accomplishment, gettin’ a book published. It also sounds like a lot of hard work. I would say Monday is okay…but my team and I actually have to travel to Detroit for a few away games.”

  “Oh, well what about this weekend?”

  “I’ll be in Cleveland for three more away games…”

  Well holy shit.

  “Why don’t we do breakfast tomorrow? That way you will have the rest of the day to work on your writin’ and I’ll have a nice breakfast before my afternoon game,” Jackson suggested.

  I thought about it for a second before answering, “Can we go to Original Pancake House?”

  “The one in Roseville work for you?” I heard the smile in his voice.

  “Perfectly. What time?”

  “Let’s do 9 o’clock?”

  My grin was so wide that it hurt my cheeks, “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you at OPH at 9 o’clock.”

  “Great. Goodnight Madeline.”

  “Goodnight, Jackson.”

  Hanging up was almost too difficult as the butterflies fluttered in my stomach. If I was meeting him
in seven hours, I definitely needed to get as much sleep as possible. My head rested on my pillow and I closed my eyes, but I found it nearly impossible to fall asleep.

  Chapter Two

  “Hey Madeline, good to see you again,” Jackson smiled as he brought me into a hug.

  He was just lucky that I was able to pull myself out of bed this morning. Going to bed at two in the morning then having to wake up at eight was not an easy feat. Deciding what to wear was even more difficult because he had seen me at my two dressing extremes. At the Twins game, I wore shorts, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes. But when I went out with my friends, I wore a dress and wedge ankle boots. It was like trying to find something in between those extremes.

  After much debate, I had gone with a graphic tank top, a button up jean shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the buttons undone (it was only 9 in the morning and a little chilly for June), dark washed shorts, and black flip flops. My mouth went dry when I saw Jackson standing there waiting for me in a fitted white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and tennis shoes. His shirt left little to the imagination of the muscles that it hid underneath.

  “So formal, Jackson,” I teased as I returned his hug.

  He chuckled, “What? Do you want me to scream ‘Oh My God! Maddie! You’re here!’?”

  Jackson used a squealy high-pitched voice that caught the attention of a few people standing by. I giggled and turned away from where those people were now staring.

  “Now that is a bit over the top.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

  “Well if baseball doesn’t work out, it seems I have a knack for the dramatics.”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  We did have a bit of a dramatic night. My ex-boyfriend showed up and annoyed me, his soon to be ex-wife showed up and annoyed him.

  “Jackson, party of two?” The hostess asked as we waited for a table opening.

  He held up his hand before taking mine and leading me to follow the hostess. We got to our booth and slid in on opposite sides. The hostess handed us some menus and we went about looking at our choices. When the waitress came to our table, we ordered our drinks and meals at the same time before she took off.

  “Those Belgian waffles did sound pretty amazin’,” Jackson smiled at me and took my hands in his over the table.

  “You do know you could have ordered those instead of ham and eggs, right?” I squeezed his hands.

  He shook his head, “With a game today, I’m goin’ to need all the protein I can get.”

  “Maybe if you are good, I’ll share some of my waffle with you,” I winked.

  Jackson lifted one of my hands to his lips, “Guess I will just have to be on my best behavior.”

  We talked for what felt like hours, only stopping when the waitress showed up with our food, then restarting as soon as she left. The conversation never stopped, and I felt like there was never an awkward moment. I told him about my book, my job, my family back in Iowa. Moving here was one of the best decisions I had ever made because of the opportunities that presented themselves. Jackson seemed genuinely interested in everything that I said, and it made me feel…important. There were so many times that I would try to have conversations like this with Lucas and he just thought he was too good for them. The man never even asked where I moved here from and he had never met my parents in the four months we were together…and they had been up to visit at least three times during those four months.

  Jackson, on the other hand, had a far more interesting story than I did. He grew up in Texas, which explained his southern twang, and his family still lived down there. He was only two years older than me, twenty-eight, and he had a younger sister named Shelby. His mother passed away from cancer when he was in high school, but his father was still alive and well in Texas and was going to get remarried next month. He originally played for the Houston Astros for a year before he signed a contract with the Minnesota Twins and had been here for the last five years.

  He told me the whole story about him and Josie. How he had his suspicions that her and his hometown best friend, Martin, had been sleeping together for a while, but he had no concrete evidence. When Josie found out she was pregnant, she tried to pretend it was Jackson’s. But when he found out how far along she was, he knew it wasn’t his because of the fact that he was not even in the same state as her for a month. Apparently, Josie had invited Martin up for the entire time that Jackson was out of state for spring training and we all knew what happened from there. I was sure that the schedule of a baseball player was hard to work around, but it was no excuse to cheat. If you were unhappy, the most logical thing was to end it.

  By the time that the waitress had brought our check, I pulled out my wallet and Jackson told me that he was going to pay for it. My face flushed because I wasn’t exactly used to guys jumping at the chance to pay for my meals. When all was said and done, Jackson and I had been at the restaurant for two and a half hours. He walked me to my car, even though he was getting texts from Owen asking exactly where he was. According to Jackson, he usually beat all the players to the field before a game, so technically he was breaking that streak for me. We walked around to my driver’s side door and Jackson circled his arms around me.

  “Thanks for comin’ to breakfast with me today,” he smiled, and I knew that he really meant it.

  “Thank you for breakfast. I had a really great time,” I said honestly.

  His lips pursed for a second, “So, I leave tomorrow and won’t be back until either late Sunday night or even Monday. I haven’t exactly gotten the itinerary yet.”

  I nodded slowly, “What does that mean for whatever this is?”

  “Well, we have the option of textin’ and callin’. We can keep in touch that way, there’s also FaceTime too.”

  “You sure you can juggle keeping in contact with all the girls you have on the side?” I teased.

  Jackson tugged me closer to him, “You are the only girl that I want to talk to while I am away.”

  My cheeks burned, and I knew they were bright red, “We only met yesterday, Jackson.”

  “And yet it feels like a much longer amount of time, don’t you think?”

  He was right. With the way that we held conversations, it felt like I had known him for ages. How did that work exactly?

  “What happens if I say that you are right?” I asked nervously.

  “A lot of things could happen…” he narrowed his eyes slightly.

  “Like what?”

  “Like this…”

  Jackson’s lips covered mine and just when I was trying to blame the connection that I felt last night on the alcohol that I had consumed, I was proven insanely wrong. Warmth spread through my body as goosebumps rose on my arms, butterflies felt like they were throwing a fucking dance party in my stomach. This had never happened when I kissed another guy, there was no ‘oh damn’ moment that I had been feeling since our lips touched. Just when things were starting to get good, Jackson pulled back.

  He laughed softly, “I really wish this could continue…but if I’m not at the field by a certain time I am pretty sure my coach will kill me.”

  The only answer I could give was fucking nod. It was as though every word of the English fucking language was seared from my memory because of that kiss.

  “Can I call you later?” He watched me closely, hope glowing in his eyes.

  Again, all I did was nod. What the hell was wrong with me? No guy, in my twenty-six years of life, had ever left me speechless. And all from a god damn kiss!

  “You goin’ to tell me goodbye or should I just expect another nod?” He teased.

  “I…I honestly don’t think I have that word in my vocabulary at the moment.”

  “Repeat after me,” he put his hands on my shoulders.

  “Okay?”

  “Good…” He started.

  I rolled my eyes, “Good…”

  “Bye…”

  “Nope, definitely not there.”

  Jackson chuckled and kissed my lips quic
kly, “I’ll call you later.”

  I waved and watched him get in his truck before he drove off. The man drove a truck. How much more Texas could that get? I swear to God if I saw him in a cowboy hat, I think I might combust. It took me all of two minutes to gather my thoughts and get into my own car. Late Sunday morning traffic was a little heavier than usual, but I made it home in one piece. When I sat down at my desk in my home office, aka the spare bedroom of my two-bedroom apartment, I found myself barely able to concentrate. My mind was only on one thing…that fucking kiss.

  I had been trying to write for hours. Nothing was coming out. The only thing I had been capable of writing was my article that I needed to write for the paper. Other than that, when it came to my book, it was like I was mentally frozen. People called it writers block but that was a far cry from what I had been feeling. How was I supposed to write a romantic fiction when the only real romance that had happened to me was all within the last fucking twenty-four hours?

  The Twins game had just finished, and I had half a mind to call Jackson. Fuck writing this book. I needed to experience a romance in order to write about it…right? I read over the chapter that my publisher had suggested I edited maybe a thousand times. They were right, it did feel dull. I laid my head on my desk in front of my laptop.

  “Why didn’t I see this before?” I groaned to myself.

  My phone came to life from beside my laptop and I nearly jumped. Apparently, I had forgotten to turn down the ringer after my alarm went off this morning. Talk about damn near having a heart attack. I picked it up without bothering to check who was calling. Knowing anything, it was either my mother or Alexandria.

  “Hello?” I droned into the receiver.

  “Wow, don’t sound so excited to hear from me there, Madeline,” Jackson’s smirk could practically be heard through the phone.

  I sat up quickly as though he could see me, “Oh god, I am so sorry. It’s just been a really long day.”

  “The book not goin’ well?” He asked.