“Braxton hasn’t messaged me back, but I’ll see him later.” My stomach rumbles, but I don’t know what from. Perhaps, it’s from my impending hangover.
“Have fun tonight.”
When I arrive back at the dorm, Shannon is gone. I don’t think anything about it and send a text to Braxton.
Me: I’ll be by at five o’clock. Missed you last night.
He doesn’t respond, so I go to get ready. The hot water from the shower loosens my tight muscles. I drank several glasses of water and took pain relievers last night, but my regime didn’t work too well. Going out and drinking wasn’t a good idea. I’m freaking miserable. The last thing I wanted to be is lethargic during my birthday dinner. I lie back on my bed and close my eyes. I’ll rest a few minutes and wait for Braxton to respond.
A few hours later, Shannon startles me awake.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What time is it?” I ask through a yawn.
“A little after three.”
My lips draw into a thin, tight line as I swing my legs around until my feet touch the floor. I glance at my phone, ignoring the unsettling feeling rising in my stomach. There’s still nothing from Braxton. Weird.
“Have you heard from your brother?” I ask.
Her jaw clenches as she continues to stare. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s mad at me, but I can’t imagine what I did to piss her off. Maybe, she is pissed about not going with Lexie and me. After a few excruciating moments, she breaks the silence.
“I haven’t talked to him since last night.”
“Oh, he never showed up at the dance club. What did he end up doing?” I study her face as she shifts in her seat. Her hesitation puts me on high alert.
“He was here, waiting for you to come back. But you never did.”
I groan and lay back down on the bed, closing my eyes. “I drank way too much. We took an Uber to Lexie’s house and crashed.”
“Ah, well, you may want to tell him because he has it in his head you were with some Drake guy. He thinks you spent the night with him.”
My eyelids fly open. “What?”
“I don’t know. Something about him going to Beats and seeing you and this Drake guy make out on the dance floor.”
Oh my God. He saw me.
“I told him he was nuts, but he insisted he saw you.” The icy-cold glare she gives me makes me feel more ill. “Were you dancing with another guy?”
“No, well, yeah, but not what you think.”
Her eyes narrow as she waits for me to continue.
“It’s a long story, but Drake is my ex. He had asked me to dance, but I turned him down. Then when Lexie and I were dancing, he came up behind me. At first, I thought it was your brother but then realized who it was. I pushed him away, but Braxton must’ve seen him before that happened.”
“You may want to explain to my brother because he’s pretty pissed. He said Drake’s hands were all over your ass. I’d suggest not grinding on other men if you want to date my brother. He’s way too possessive.”
“Aargh! He didn’t see what came next. After Drake got handsy with me, I dropped his ass on the floor.”
“For real?” Her eyes bulge, which is way better than the scowl directed toward me.
“Yeah, he was pissed, but he shouldn’t be touching me anymore.”
“Text my brother.”
“I have. He’s not responding.”
She shakes her head. “He’s an idiot. Just explain what happened. I’m sure he’ll call. He was looking forward to tonight.”
I end up leaving a voicemail, along with Shannon, but by the time I have to leave to meet AJ, Baxton hasn’t responded. I end up at his door only to be greeted by Dalton.
“I bet you’re looking for Braxton.” The James Dean wannabe peers down at me with a superiority attitude. Glad to be judged.
“Is he here?” I already know the answer, but just in case I’m wrong, I ask anyway.
“He, uh, went out with the guys. An old teammate is back in town.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I hold my head high. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”
I spin on my toes and hightail it out of there. The last thing I want to do is jump to conclusions. Not without talking to him first, but a part of me knows already. This feeling is way too familiar but also way worse.
Any hope of salvaging any part of this evening dies the moment I step through the restaurant’s doors. My phone buzzes with a text from AJ.
AJ: Sorry. May have to cancel. Elderly neighbor fell and we’re taking her to the hospital.
Me: Thanks. We’ll meet up tomorrow. Take care of Mrs. Beasley.
I sigh. I’ve met their neighbor. She’s nice, but tonight keeps getting shittier by the minute. I’m about ready to head out when my gaze lands on Drake. Well, happy fucking birthday to me.
Chapter Forty-Two
BRAXTON
After a few drinks work their way through me, curiosity gets the best of me. I pull out my phone and open Cara’s text messages. Guilt surges through me from the first optimistic text to the last. Every word in her last message is laced with worry. I feel awful, but what does she expect from me? I ignore the voicemail. I can’t bring myself to listen to the sound of her voice. I’ll end up caving, and even though it makes me an ass, I’m not in the mood to listen to excuses. There’s no explanation sufficient enough to explain why she was on the dance floor with Drake. Or sitting with him in the booth. I’m pretty sure exclusivity means no other guys, especially ex-boyfriends.
The other text messages are from Isabella and Shannon. I read Shannon’s. Her first message was just checking in on me, but the second one told me to hear Cara out. Well, little sis, that’s not going to happen tonight. Cara may be able to persuade you, but I’m not so bendable. I take a swig of beer. Looks as if I’m going to have to tell Shannon to get a stronger backbone. She’s too soft, and being soft doesn’t get you anywhere in life.
I take another swig and open Isabella’s text. She’s the last person I want to talk to. In fact, I don’t want to talk to anyone but my guys and this bottle, which is now empty.
Isabella: I’m almost to your house. You home?
Me: No.
Isabella: Then I’ll wait.
What possibly could be so important that she’s willing to wait for me?
Me: I don’t know when I’ll be back. We’re at Barton’s.
Isabella: Here now. Dalton’s here to keep me company.
“You need a refill?” Noah asks.
“I’ve only had one. What do you think?” There is a reason I stayed single. It kept the pain away.
Noah shakes his head and mutters, “Asshole,” as Garret arrives.
“You came.” Rick gets up and pats Garret on the back.
“I couldn’t miss seeing you, man. So, how’re the minors treating you?”
“It’s awesome but grueling at the same time. You keep hoping to get called up, but it’s great playing every day. Our hitting coach is fantastic and added another twelfth of a percent onto my batting average.”
“Impressive. But don’t you think I already know that?” Garret laughs as they fist-bump.
“Didn’t know you still cared,” Rick says.
“Fuck you. Not everyone knows a professional baseball player. The only thing I’m surprised about is them not calling you up this year.”
“I hear you. I think they wanted me to get some extra work with the coaches. I’ll come back next year stronger and better. You’ll see.”
“Damn straight.” Garret looks my way and frowns. “Who shit in your shorts?”
“That’s a subject better left untouched,” Noah says as he places his water down and passes out the beers. He isn’t much of a drinker, limiting himself to one drink a night, but those boy scout tendencies don’t stop me from flipping him off.
“Seriously, what the fuck?” Garret doesn’t let it drop. Noah shakes his head as I toss back another drink
.
“Girl trouble,” Noah says. “Which he’s being stupid about.”
I glare at Noah. “You saw her last night.”
“It’s her birthday. You shouldn’t stand her up. You haven’t even heard her explanation.”
I grunt. I’m not in the mood to hear what I should be doing.
“It is pretty shitty to ditch on her birthday,” Garret chimes in.
“Now you, too?” The fact remains, I do feel pretty shitty. But damn it. My ex played these games, and I don’t want to repeat past mistakes.
“She did text you to meet her there. Just saying.” Noah gives me a pointed look. Rick keeps his opinion to himself. Maybe because he doesn’t know her.
I rest my head back on the booth. They’re right. But I can’t get the image of Drake’s hands on her out of my head.
“And when I didn’t show, she decided to grind against her ex-boyfriend.”
Garret’s eyebrows shoot to his forehead. “No shit. Well, to hell with all bitches.”
“She’s not a bitch.” My words come out in a low meaningful warning. Garret holds his palms up.
“I was just generalizing, calm down.” He turns to Noah and mouths wow.
To hell with this. I nudge Rick out of the way and make my way to the bar. What I really want is to go home. Maybe bat out my frustrations. This was supposed to be an epic year, and it’s nothing but shit.
“What’s going on?” Rick asks, sidling up next to me. “There seems to be more going on than some chick.”
She’s not just some chick, but there’s a shitload going on in my head right now. I don’t say any of what I’m thinking. Instead, I knock back another drink. “Nothing, man. It’s all good. I’m glad you showed up. I’ve missed having you on the field.”
Rick grows quiet and stares at his drink as he swirls it around the glass before swinging it back. I suddenly don’t think I’m the only one who is having problems. For a brief moment, I wonder if he has a lingering injury. I know what my problem is, and it comes in a five-foot-nine, raven-haired package.
“Ankle still holding strong?” I ask.
“Yeah, no injuries to report.”
“How’s playing professional ball really like? Was it worth accepting the draft?”
“You know academics wasn’t my style, so yeah. It works for me. It can be a little grueling playing on the road. It’s something you have to get used to. My best advice is to stay single and dump this girl giving you trouble.”
My head snaps to his, mouth agape. What the actual fuck? Is he telling me to ditch my girlfriend? “The last thing I expected was a dad lecture.”
“I’m serious. Women are nothing but trouble.”
I work my jaw back and forth. Damn, I’m so fucking mad which is part of the reason why I won’t talk to her. I’m afraid that my words would scare her away for good. “I’m beginning to see that.”
“Believe me, whatever is going on, dump her and move on. Focus on baseball. Women are too much trouble.” He takes a swig, and a hardness coats his face. Something or someone is troubling him big-time. I don’t ask. I know damn well I don’t want to talk about my troubles.
But is he right? Am I better off staying single? Would it be better for her if I let her go? I won’t be able to be there for her when I play ball. I’m always going to be a jealous fuck. Having a former girlfriend cheat with an ex does that. Now, it appears my new girlfriend did the same.
Deep down, I can’t believe she slept with him, but I’m not seeing reason right now. Regardless, I’m not good for her. Rick’s right. I need to concentrate on my game. Baseball is too important to ignore right now.
“No regrets not graduating?”
He pauses and then shakes his head. “None. Go into the season with one thing on your mind—playing the game. Forget about everything else. Believe me, in the end, it’s so worth it.”
The weight of the world rests on my shoulders. Rick isn’t telling me anything new. Stay focused and stay single is what Dad has been preaching for years. If what they say is true, then why does this hurt so much?
Because I fucking love her.
Damn, Noah’s right. I am an idiot. I slam the bottle on the counter and look at the time. I may be late for the main course, but I can make it there for her birthday cake. “I have to go!”
“You’re making a mistake.”
I ignore Rick as I breeze by Noah.
“Whoa? Where do you think you’re going?” Noah asks.
“I’ve got a date I’m late for.”
“I’m the designated driver. I’ll drive you.”
I smile at my friend. “Sure thing.”
My heart races when we reach the restaurant. Traffic was a bitch getting here, and I’m afraid I’m too late. “Pull along the side, and I’ll get here. I’ll text if she’s gone.”
“Okay. For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing.”
I nod as he parks the truck along the curb. I place my hand on the door handle and smile when Cara steps out of the door. I made it. My smile drops when Drake and only Drake follows behind.
“What the hell?” I ask, not moving from the passenger seat. I watch Cara stare after Drake as he hands the valet his ticket.
“Shit,” Noah mutters.
Noah keeps my truck parked along the curb. Cara reaches up and gives Drake a hug. When she steps away from him, she doesn’t leave. Why isn’t she leaving? I know she drove herself. Or she was supposed to.
The valet pulls his Porsche 911 to the front, and Drake opens the passenger door. Cara hesitates, and I hold my breath as she contemplates what to do. Her next move breaks my fucking heart. She gets into his car.
“Maybe there’s an explanation?”
I turn and glare at Noah. “Is that your go-to answer?”
“Seems that way,” he murmurs.
“Fine, but if she fucking lies to me, we’re through.” I whip my phone out and send her a text.
Me: Where are you?
I half-expect her not to answer since I ditched her on her birthday. I wouldn’t answer my sorry self.
Cara: With AJ
I punch the dashboard. “Get me shitfaced.”
Chapter Forty-Three
CARA
Talk about a clusterfuck. I’ve done some pretty embarrassing stuff in my lifetime, but explaining Braxton’s absence to my ex-boyfriend is the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done. And on my birthday, no less. I lie in bed unable to fall back asleep. I rub my hand along my face in a futile attempt to wipe away Drake’s pitiful expression. God, that was the worst part.
Since Braxton won’t return my phone message, I have no other choice but to go over to his house and confront him. This conversation needs to be done in person, but that doesn’t excuse the fact he never responded. A simple “we’ll talk later” would have been better than nothing. He didn’t even wish me a happy birthday.
And with everything going on, why does that hurt the worst?
Maybe because the omission finalizes our end.
My gut clenches as my gaze shifts to the first morning rays peeking through the blinds. It’s early, but if I leave now, he’ll surely be home and won’t be able to avoid me. I’m embarrassed and hurt but also so damn pissed. If he wants to dump me over something so trivial and without hearing the truth, he should have the decency to tell me to my face like a fucking adult. Not play games. He just confessed his love to me for fuck’s sake. I thought I meant more to him than that.
With a glance at Shannon’s sleeping form, I pull myself out of bed as quietly as possible. I don’t want to wake her, but I need to get going. I need answers. I’m pulling my oversized purple T-shirt over my head when Shannon’s voice startles me.
“Where are you going this early?”
“To see your brother.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry he’s being a prick.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s not like you didn’t warn me, right.” My voice cracks toward the end as I
blink back the tears threatening to surface. I would’ve thought I cried enough last night.
“Once you two talk things out, he’ll come around. It’s just a huge misunderstanding.”
“That it is.” But even as I agree with her, the ball in my stomach won’t untangle. That unease that never quite left since our Thanksgiving argument rears its head as if in warning.
And I should have listened.
The cool morning air hits my face, as I take off walking to Braxton’s house. The distance gives me time to sort out what I want to say. I have to be honest; part of me wants nothing more than to yell at him. His jealousy is what landed us in this mess, not anything I did. It’s not my fault Drake took it upon himself to sneak up behind me.
Each step pounds against the concrete with determination to not only make him listen but to put a stop to this jealousy. Or else, it will never work between us.
I stand on the sidewalk in front of Braxton’s house and breathe in some encouragement. I can do this. I step forward but freeze when the front door opens and a girl with auburn hair steps through it. What the hell is Isabella doing coming from their house at eight in the morning? Her ruffled top and askew hair leave little to the imagination. She definitely stayed here last night. I shut my eyes momentarily as pain slices through me and squeezes out every bit of hope I had left. God, I did not plan for this scenario. Why would he do this to me?
Unable to move, I stand as if my legs are frozen, my mind stuck in a time warp. I don’t understand. Braxton has never given me cheater vibes. Unlike Drake. I don’t understand how my judgment is this far off base. My throat tightens as I clamp my jaw to stave back the tears. No way in hell do I want Isabella seeing how she affects me.
The moment Isabella notices me, the corners of her mouth rise into a smirk. “You’re too late.”
My stomach lurches, the minty taste from my toothpaste turning acrid.
“What do you mean?” I somehow manage to ask in an even tone.
“Guess you’ll find out.” She doesn’t say anything else as she shoulders past me. My hands shake as every possible scenario race through my mind. He was with her last night? On my birthday, no less. Tears prick my eyes, and I want to turn around and pretend none of this happened. Go back to bed and stay there for the next few hundred years. I do neither and march toward the door. It’s time to get answers even if they’re not the ones I want to hear.
Swinging Strike (Cessna U Wildcats Book 1) Page 28