by Megan Green
We aren’t scheduled to arrive home until next week. But Brandon and I caught an early flight back, the bastard only too willing to accompany me if it meant seeing Liv for a few hours. Coach hadn’t been too pleased about that, considering the reformed bad boy was one of the biggest draws to our team and we had a meet and greet scheduled for tomorrow morning. But, Brandon has a way of getting what he wants.
Hiking my duffel up onto my shoulder, I begin the trek up to my apartment. I didn’t call and tell Avery I was coming home early, hoping her surprise and delight would be enough to shock whatever funk I’d fallen into out of my system.
Disappointment fills me, however, as soon as I push open my apartment door. The living room lights are dimmed, and I’m greeted by only silence.
She isn’t home.
After making a quick stop by my room to drop my bag on the bed, I head out into the living room, hoping for some sort of clue as to where she might be.
Maybe she left a note, I think, wandering over to the kitchen island.
But, of course, there’s nothing there.
And why would there be? She isn’t expecting you back until next week you idiot.
I look around the room, preparing myself to settle in for a few hours of waiting when my eyes fall on the small laptop on top of the coffee table. It’s not entirely out of the ordinary for it to be there, but normally, Avery tucks it away when she’s not using it.
Grabbing the computer, I sit down on the couch and lift the top. It belongs to me even though Avery has pretty much commandeered it since arriving last month, so I don’t have to even take a guess at the password. I type it in and am immediately met by a restaurant menu.
It’s not really snooping when she left the browser open, is it?
I shrug off the thought, not letting myself go too far down that path. I’m not snooping on Avery. I just want to see her.
The restaurant is a place called The Tower, and it isn’t too far away from the apartment. I have no clue if this is where she’s at tonight, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to go have a look. She’s probably down there with Lexi and Liv; in which case, none of them will mind if I stop by and ruin their girls’ night. Maybe I’ll call Brandon on the way and let him know where he can find his woman.
Closing the laptop, I set it back on the table and get to my feet. With one final look around the apartment, like maybe Avery is just going to magically appear and save me the few minutes it’ll take me to get to The Tower, I turn and head back out the door.
I smile as I walk toward the restaurant, greeting people as they pass and pausing to sign the occasional autograph when asked. More than one person seems shocked to see me here tonight, knowing the Rampage is on the road this week. When I explain that I snuck off immediately following the game—it had been relatively short for a baseball game, coming in at just over two hours—to come home and surprise my girl, more than one woman presses her hand to her chest and coos at me, telling me it’s the sweetest thing she’s ever heard.
Now, if only I could get to Avery and let her know just how sweet I am.
I turn the corner to the street the restaurant is on, a bounce in my step as I see the familiar sign looming up ahead. My team won tonight, and thanks to my good friend, I get to see my woman for a few hours before heading back out for the remaining three games on the road.
Life is pretty freaking sweet.
Until it’s not.
A familiar head of hair—dark chestnut curls that I would recognize anywhere—comes into view just outside the restaurant. My smile widens as I realize I’m going to get to see Avery even sooner than expected. Maybe I can even convince her to get away from her friends and come back to our apartment for a few hours of alone time before I have to head back to the airport.
But, when Avery turns around, her face lowered to the ground so that I can’t quite make out her expression, my eyes flick up to the person who was standing before her.
And I see red.
Miles Johnson is standing just behind Avery’s shoulder, looking every ounce the arrogant prick he is. His stupid smirk is laced with a hint of frustration, his nostrils slightly flared as he watches Avery hurry away from him.
Then, as if in slow motion, Avery’s heel breaks, causing her to stumble forward. Before I can even will my body to move, Miles is there, his hands steadying her and setting her back on her feet. I see an embarrassed smile flit across Avery’s face, and as she turns to thank him, he lowers his face to hers, his lips claiming hers in a possessive kiss.
If I thought I’d seen red before…it’s nothing compared to the absolute rage that consumes me at the sight of that asshole’s lips on Avery.
My Avery.
My legs begin to move before I can formulate a plan, almost as if my body knows how to react better than my mind. Before I know it, my hands close around Avery’s shoulders, jerking her away from Miles’s body as I put myself between them.
Avery’s eyes land on me, and the sight of them nearly pulls me up short. A mixture of anger, bewilderment, and downright hatred stares back at me, her brows furrowing as she flicks her gaze from me to Miles.
“C-Carter…what are you doing here?”
Her question brings back all the anger I was feeling only seconds ago. When that bastard had his mouth on her.
“Came home early to surprise you. Guess it was me who got the surprise.”
Miles chuckles from behind me. “I’d say. You didn’t really think you could keep her, did you?”
Avery’s mouth falls open, but I don’t even bother listening to what she’s going to say next. I whirl around, my fist connecting with Johnson’s jaw before he even knows what hit him.
He staggers to the side, his hand coming up to cradle the spot where I punched him. I brace myself for him to swing back, holding my fists up in front of my body in hopes of deflecting any punches the asshole throws my way.
But, to my surprise, Miles takes a step back, his eyes full of shock, as if he can’t believe what just happened. And I guess I can’t really blame him. During all our years of hating one another, neither of us has ever laid a hand on the other. Our battles have always been more of the verbal variety, our physical altercations taking place on the baseball diamond instead of with our fists. I caught Miles completely unaware because he’d never in a million years expected me to take a swing at him.
Before now, I never had anything worth fighting for. Not really. Sure, my pride and the respect of everyone in Stetson had been driving factors in all my animosity toward him over all these years. Not to mention, he’s just a grade-A dick.
But, now that Avery is involved…
There’s nothing I won’t do to protect her.
Even if it means spraining my pitching hand. I may be a damn good athlete, but I’ve never once taken an interest in boxing. Pretty sure that’s the first punch I’ve thrown in…ever.
I’d do it all over again though just to see the look on Miles’s face as he realizes I’m not going to back down from this fight. This is one contest he’s not going to win.
After a few strained moments, he lets out an exasperated huff, his eyes rolling as he turns to walk away. “Fuck this,” he says, shifting his eyes from me to where Avery is standing behind me. “When you’re done with this loser, you know where to find me.”
With that final dig, he hustles down the street, quickly being swallowed up by the crowd of people that always seems to permeate downtown Seattle. I watch him walk until I can no longer make out the back of his head, the feel of Avery’s hand on my forearm bringing me out of my malice for Miles Johnson and back to the woman standing behind me.
I might have just tried to knock out my longtime rival for her, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still pissed as hell. And I need answers.
But not here. Not in the middle of a busy street where anybody can hear.
“Carter…I—”
I cut her a glare, telling her with my eyes that this isn’t the place. Stuffing my hands
in my pockets, I take a step around her and head back toward the apartment.
Avery hustles along behind me, pausing only for a moment to pull off her heels so that she can better keep up. A brief pang of guilt washes over me, knowing that she’s walking the filthy streets barefoot because of her busted shoe.
But then the vision of her standing in front of that restaurant returns, and I figure dirty feet are the least of her worries right now.
She doesn’t try to speak as we walk, doesn’t try to take my hand. Even in my angered state, it still amazes me how she’s able to read me so well. Most women would be pleading for forgiveness, trying to explain themselves, or even using physical touch to try to get their way.
Avery will have plenty of time to explain herself once we get back to the apartment. For now, I’m just grateful she’s giving me some time with my thoughts.
She was walking away from Miles when I arrived, and he had to force her back around to face him. It was clear they weren’t on friendly terms, and I’m not stupid enough to think Avery was there on any sort of date with him.
But why was she there?
That’s what I need to know.
That’s what’s going to decide everything.
We finally reach my apartment building, and after a tense elevator ride up to my floor, Avery follows me down the hall and waits while I unlock the door.
As soon as we step through and the door latches behind me, she begins, “Carter, I—”
I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “I just need to know one thing. Did you know Miles would be there when you went to The Tower this evening?”
She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes immediately dropping to the floor at her feet. It’s all the answer I need, but she nods to confirm.
“Why, Avery? Why would you go meet him? No, why would you go meet him without telling me?”
She winces at the hurt tone in my words, and I want nothing more than to pull her in my arms and kiss away the pain. But my own hurt prevents me from doing so. My own hurt has completely taken over my body and my mind, nothing in this world making a damn bit of sense since the moment I turned that corner to the restaurant.
“Carter, I wanted to tell you—”
“Bullshit. All it would’ve taken is picking up the phone. If you wanted to tell me, you would have.”
“You were about to play a game. You were already on your way to the field—”
“And I would’ve dropped it all for you. Don’t you get that, Avery? Nothing matters to me more than you. Not baseball, not my friends, not even my career. I will always answer when you call. I will always put you first.”
“I didn’t want to cause you any unnecessary worry,” she says, her voice shaky. “I knew you’d dwell on it and the fact that you couldn’t be here. And, Carter, you had nothing to worry about. Had I even thought for a minute that Miles would try something like that, I wouldn’t have gone.”
I scoff. “You honestly thought he wanted to meet with you and talk? Come on, Avery. You’re not that dense.”
Her jaw hardens, her eyes flaring with rage at my words. “I did think that because that’s what he told me. He said he needed closure. That he’d been seeing a therapist. He said he wanted to apologize.”
I can’t help the humorless chuckle that escapes my lips. “Oh, yes, and Miles Johnson has always been known for his stellar apologies. And also his upstanding character. Never told a lie in his life, that one.”
Avery’s jaw works, and I can see her irritation with the way I’m acting building with each and every word that leaves my lips. And that only furthers my own fury.
Where does she get off, thinking she can be angry with me? I did nothing wrong here. Nothing, except come home early to surprise my girlfriend.
“Look, Carter, I know you’re mad,” she finally says after several long moments of our stare-down. “You have every right to be. I should have told you—”
“Yes, you should have,” I interject, glad that she’s finally seeing things my way.
“I should have told you,” she repeats, speaking over me like I didn’t even open my mouth. “But I didn’t. And, for that, I’m sorry. But please believe me when I say, I honestly had no idea Miles was going to kiss me tonight. That he was going to try to convince me to come back home to Stetson.”
I cringe at her use of the words home and Stetson, knowing that, no matter how happy Avery might be here, in Seattle, with me—tonight notwithstanding—Wyoming will always be home to her. I was fooling myself for thinking something long-term would ever work between us. We’ve been living on borrowed time, and all tonight has done is made me realize that Avery will never truly be mine.
Miles might not win her back, but Stetson will. And, once again, I’ll lose her.
Avery must not be able to read the sudden shift in my thoughts because she continues speaking, “Miles asked me to meet him tonight. He said he needed closure to finally be able to close the door on our relationship. And, Carter, I’d thought those exact same words the day of your first game against the Larks. I’d thought seeing Miles might finally give me the final push I needed to put our relationship in the past for good.”
She pauses, and I turn to give her a pitiful look. If she’s about to tell me that seeing Miles reminded her of everything she’d lost, I don’t want to hear it.
“But that day only made me realize I’d already closed the door. Being here with you, loving you…I didn’t need closure with Miles because our relationship was already so deep in the ground that even the Winchester brothers wouldn’t be able to dig it up.”
She gives me a small smile at her attempt at humor. Several years ago, Supernatural was all Avery talked about, so I get the reference even if I’ve never seen an episode. But even her throwback to the past can’t break the somber mood that has taken over my thoughts.
“I love you, Carter. Only you. But I have a past with Miles. I thought that, if I could help him move on, help him get to this place where I am, maybe it would help him work through his issues. I assure you, my intentions were only that—to help someone I’d once considered a friend if nothing else.”
Her tone is so sincere, her words so full of pleading and truth, that I can’t help but believe her. Besides, I was never under the impression that Avery had met Miles for any sort of nefarious reasons. I knew there was a logical explanation for what I’d seen.
But that still doesn’t change the fact that she should’ve told me. I would have worried. I would have driven myself crazy over what they were discussing. And, yes, I would’ve tried to talk her out of going.
That man boils my blood like nobody else can. Of course I don’t want her within a hundred yards of him.
But, be that as it may, had Avery insisted on going, I would’ve understood. I would’ve hated every second of it, but at least I would’ve known.
And the fact that she kept it from me is something I don’t know if I can get past.
After a few strangled moments of silence, Avery finally reaches out to me, her delicate fingertips landing softly on the skin of my forearm. “Please say something.”
I clear my throat, trying to bite back the lump that’s forming there when I realize what I’m going to say. Because it’s going to hurt like hell.
For both of us.
“I, uh…” I take a deep breath. “I need some time, Avery. I think it’d be best if you went home.”
I see the moment my words register on her face. The complete and utter heartbreak when she realizes I’m asking her to leave.
But it’s nothing compared to the way my own heart shatters in my chest.
I finally got my wish. The love of my life loves me back.
And I just sent her away.
Chapter 26
Avery
“Girl, when was the last time you showered?”
My eyes blink open at the sound of the familiar voice, and I groan into the pillow. “Who let you in here?”
Sammy plops down
on the side of my bed, reaching over and smacking me on the ass. I yelp, rolling over and pulling my blankets up around my face in an attempt to shield myself from further blows.
“Your mother. She said somebody needed to come knock some sense into your ass. Consider your ass sensed.”
I roll my eyes and burrow down deeper into the warmth of my bed. It’s only September, but there’s a distinct chill in the Wyoming air that wasn’t here when I left.
Normally, I’d be excited about fall. I’m all about chunky sweaters, fur-lined leggings, and fuzzy boots. And don’t even get me started on pumpkin spice. We’re about to enter what is by far my favorite time of year, and I can’t even bring myself to muster up enough enthusiasm to turn on Practical Magic.
I’ve been back in Stetson for three days, and I can count the number of times I’ve left my childhood bedroom on one hand. And all of those were only because I had to pee.
“Avery, come on. You can’t just stay locked up in your old room forever,” Sammy says, grabbing the foot of my blanket and attempting to pull it off.
I tighten my grip, making sure there’s no way it’s going anywhere before answering her. “Actually, Sammy, I can. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to ignoring the world and pretending like my life didn’t just completely implode.”
Sammy huffs with defeat, and I pop my head out from under the covers just in time to see her whirling around and looking at someone standing by the door. “She’s hopeless. There’s no getting through to her.”
My mother steps into the room, clucking her tongue at Sammy as she gives me a warm smile. “She’s not hopeless. She’s heartbroken. There’s a difference.”
Sammy grumbles under her breath before announcing she’ll be downstairs, eating pie. I give my mother a quizzical look.
“I bribed her with pie to come over and see if she could cheer you up. Clearly, it didn’t work.”
I shrug. It’s not that I don’t want to see Sammy specifically. It’s that I don’t want to see anybody, period. Seeing people reminds me of the one person I can’t see and the one person I need to see most.