Caught Looking

by Tara Wyatt

  “Parents love me. I’m very charming.”

  Her heart twisted, aching for what they could’ve had.

  Darkness had fallen while they’d been inside the restaurant, the very last vestiges of daylight now clinging to the horizon. Jake was hyperaware of Abby beside him as they walked slowly down the street, back toward the hotel. He was pleasantly full of bread and lasagna and tiramisu, and normally that would’ve been enough to put a smile on his face, but right now, he wasn’t smiling. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to take Abby’s hand in his. He wanted to comfort her, second only to wanting to tell off her family. But he couldn’t, so he settled for talking to her instead.

  “I’m sorry that they don’t see you,” he said quietly, keeping his gaze on the street ahead. In his peripheral vision, he saw her head whip around to look at him.

  “I…thanks. I’m used to it.” She didn’t say anything else. They walked in silence for a few minutes before he prodded, just a little more. Not only did he want to be her shoulder to lean on, he wanted her to know that how she felt with her family, how they saw her, wasn’t accurate. Not by a long shot.

  “That must’ve been hard, growing up with that kind of dynamic.”

  “It wasn’t easy. Nothing was ever good enough. I wasn’t girly enough for Mom to take much interest, and I wasn’t a boy, so I felt like I was always playing catch-up with Dad. I hoped that maybe…” Her voice trembled, just the tiniest bit, and she shook her head. He decided fuck it right then and there and took her hand in his. She gave it a squeeze, as though the two of them holding hands were the most natural thing in the world. Maybe because it was. “I hoped that if I was good at softball, if I could be successful at something he liked and approved of, than maybe I’d be good enough.”

  He squeezed her hand back. “You are good enough. Fuck, Abby, you’re so much more than good enough. It pisses me off that they don’t see it. But if that’s the way it is, then it’s their loss, because you’re freaking awesome.”

  She let out a soft little laugh that warmed him from the inside. “Thanks, Jake. Tonight was less shitty than I thought it would be, mostly because you were there. I’ve never felt like I belonged with my family, but with you there…I don’t know. I didn’t feel so out of place.” She stopped walking and met his eyes, turning to face him. “I’ve never felt out of place with you. Ever.”

  “Except for now,” he said, reaching a hand up and tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

  “Except for now.” She swallowed thickly, pressing her cheek into his touch. She let out a shaky breath. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  He pulled her in for a hug, not knowing what to say, not knowing what else do to. “I don’t know,” he sighed as she buried her face in his neck. He tightened his arms around her, not wanting to let her go. Fuck, he’d never wanted to let her go. An emotion he couldn’t name gripped him. It was as though he wanted to both comfort and claim her at the same time. He’d never felt anything like it before, and he couldn’t shake it. It rose up inside him, hot and urgent, like a pot boiling over.

  “Abby, I need to tell you something,” he said, pulling back slightly. “This is probably the wrong thing to say right now, and definitely the wrong time, but timing doesn’t seem to be our specialty.”

  She let out a sad laugh. “No. It doesn’t.”

  His eyes locked on hers. “I’m in love with you, and I don’t know how to stop being in love with you.” His heart pounded in his throat as he spoke, almost stealing his words away. During their time together, they’d never said those three words, although they’d danced around them a few times.

  Her eyes were bright and she blinked rapidly, her face tight with emotion. Then she slid her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his, kissing him. He made a gruff sound of surprise before wrapping his arms around her and deepening the kiss. He poured everything he had into that kiss. Everything he was feeling. Everything he wanted and needed, and he got the sense that she was doing the same. Deep and slow, tongues sliding, mouths colliding, he drank her in until he felt drunk on Abby. Drunk on the woman he loved but couldn’t have. Her mouth was warm and soft as her lips moved against his, giving and taking at the same time. His blood heated and he slid one hand up her back to tangle in her hair, tipping her head back and deepening the kiss. Her hips shifted restlessly against him and he moaned against her mouth, a gruff, hungry sound. He would never stop needing this woman. Never. He knew that like he knew his own name.

  A passing car honked its horn at them, someone shouting “woohoo” out the window as it passed, and Abby jerked back, practically leaping away from him. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips a little swollen, the skin around her mouth pink from the rasp of his stubble.

  “That was so stupid of me,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have…” She closed her eyes for a second and pressed a hand to her lips. “I don’t know how to stop loving you either, Jake, but you’re right, it doesn’t change who we are or what we do. I wish it did. God, I wish it did.” Her eyes were bright and she took several deep breaths before she spoke again. Jake was glad, because he wouldn’t have been able to hear anything over the sound of his heart crashing against his ribs, frantic with the knowledge that she loved him too. Frantic with wanting her—in his bed, and in his life.

  “What now?” he finally asked, his voice low and husky.

  “Give me a head start so I can walk back to the hotel alone. And then we pretend this never happened.” Ordinarily, hearing those words from the woman he loved would’ve been like a knife to his guts, but from the shaky tone of her voice and the way she kept wringing her hands, he could tell it hurt her as much to say them as it did him to hear them. Pressing her hand to her lips once more, she turned and walked briskly down the street, leaving him behind.

  Watching her go, he sank down onto a bench nestled between a bus shelter and a garbage can. He dropped his head into his hands and roughly pushed his hands through his hair.

  “Fuck,” he whispered.

  Nine

  “Right, Abby? Gossman?” Javi’s hand flashed in front of her face and Abby blinked rapidly, blood rushing to her cheeks. Hopefully Javi hadn’t noticed that she’d been staring at Jake’s butt as he made his way out to the plate to start the game. She should be focused on work, on the game about to start, on anything but Jake. But she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that night several days ago in California. His words kept replaying through her mind, over and over again, like a track stuck on repeat.

  I’m in love with you, and I don’t know how to stop being in love with you.

  “Yeah, sorry, lost in thought,” she said, turning to Javi with a forced smile.

  “You talked to Beckett about his plate distance, yeah?” Javi popped a few sunflower seeds in his mouth, staring out at the field thoughtfully.

  “I did. It should fix the issue with him crowding the plate.” Beau’s hitting had been solid, but she was always looking at every single metric to find ways to improve. Especially now, with the wild card only half a game away. They had to keep winning. Everything depended on it.

  Her eyes bounced back to the field, where the first inning was underway. She should’ve been paying more attention to the game, to the way the ump was calling the strike zone, but her gaze was glued to Jake crouched behind the plate. It was the way it had been since he’d gotten traded to the Longhorns, and she didn’t know how to stop.

  But it was fine. Everything was fine. They’d said their goodbyes—more than once—and they both knew that even though there were feelings between them, it couldn’t go anywhere. It sucked, but she was an adult, and she accepted it and was moving on.

  Right. Which was why she only thought about Jake on days that ended in Y and during the hours that had sixty minutes. Because she’d moved on from him. From them. And she definitely didn’t dream about him almost
every night. About being in bed with him. About laughing with him. About running toward him and never, ever getting to him.

  She felt like her heart was mired in quicksand, sinking into desolation with each thump.

  The feel of Javi’s hand on her lower back made her jump. “Don’t look so worried. We’ll get that wild card spot. And even if we don’t, we’ll know that we did everything we could to try to get there.” He sighed, his gaze out on the field. “It’s hard not to feel vulnerable. Believe me, I get it. We won’t be given the same chances a white guy would.”

  She had to blink rapidly, trying to catch up to the conversation. Javi thought she was quiet and distracted because she was worried about her job, not because she was obsessing over Jake. Javi leaned in closer, close enough that she could smell his clean, masculine scent. “Whatever happens, Gossman, I need you to know that coaching with you has been a privilege. Honestly, working with you makes me better.”

  She turned to look at him and found his deep brown eyes sparkling, one eyebrow cocked. He licked his lips and smiled. Oh, shit. Jake hadn’t been wrong about Javi, had he? There was something here. Something she needed to try to extinguish as quickly as possible because the last thing she needed right now was this. Whatever this was.

  So she socked him on the shoulder, hard, and let out an inelegant guffaw. “Shit, don’t get all soft on me, Flores.” Then she shoved a bunch of sunflower seeds in her mouth.

  They were up four runs to three, but it was no thanks to Jake. Not when he had to keep wrenching his attention back to the game and away from the dugout where Javi and Abby stood huddled together, their heads bent over a tablet. He’d say something, she’d laugh and swat his arm, he’d smile at her in that way that made Jake want to punch him in the jaw.

  With a low growl, he dropped his mask back down over his face and crouched behind the plate. On the mound, Connor leaned forward, his eyes narrowed as he waited for Jake’s call. Jake signaled a curve ball, and Connor delivered, throwing a perfect strike. The ball socked into Jake’s glove and he threw it back with a nod. This. This was what he needed to focus on right now.

  He glanced back toward the dugout. Javi simply nodded, indicating he should proceed with the batter as they’d already discussed, no change to the game plan. And then he put his hand on Abby’s shoulder and said something. Heat flared through Jake, like a fire igniting somewhere in the pit of his belly. He gave his head a shake and signaled to Connor for the off-speed pitch he wanted. Another strike sailed over the plate and into his glove.

  Abby settled into the game as the score bounced back and forth, the Longhorns going up a run or two only to have the Tigers claw their way back, seesawing the score back their way. She did her best to focus on the game and on doing her damn job, even though she was aware of Jake whenever he was in the dugout. Her body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo her brain had dispatched. Hell, neither had her heart, and frankly, it was exhausting to have her body be at war with itself over him.

  As they headed into the top of the eighth, Abby pulled out her tablet, double checking the scouting report on the Tigers’ relief pitcher coming into the game. She felt Jake brush by her and looked up before she could stop herself. His eyes slammed into hers, sending warmth coursing over her skin.

  She wondered if he’d say anything, but he just smiled and pulled his mask on, then headed out to the field.

  Her entire body vibrated with a sense of yearning, a sense of longing so strong that she almost couldn’t breathe. How was she going to survive this? She’d been spending so much time, so much energy pretending that everything was okay when it really wasn’t fucking okay. She was not fucking okay. How could she be when Jake—the best guy, the guy she wanted to be with maybe forever—told her he loved her and didn’t know how to stop loving her? How could she choose between her life and livelihood and the man she loved? How could she pursue a relationship that might cost her everything?

  But…how could she live without Jake?

  With a sigh, she forced her attention back to the game and all too quickly, the score was tied with a runner on third. Not good. The batter swung and sent a pop-fly careening way back into the outfield. Dylan caught it easily and then threw the ball to Jake, who’d moved out in front of the plate to try to prevent the run from scoring.

  And then it was as though everything dropped into slow motion. Abby watched as the runner booked it for home. Jake moved forward to try to catch Dylan’s throw, which was just a little bit offline. And then the runner barreled into Jake, shoulder first, bowling him over. Jake’s head snapped back in a way that made her stomach turn.

  “Jake!” She screamed, her hands gripping the rail separating the dugout from the field. Each second felt like an eternity even as action exploded around her in the dugout, the trainer and Javi both sprinting out onto the field. But Abby couldn’t move, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horrible sight in front of her.

  Jake lay flat on his back. Not moving.

  Jake blinked slowly, the stadium’s lights blurring his vision. He became gradually aware that he was lying on the ground. Why was he on the ground? He tried to sit up, but strong hands pushed him back down.

  “The golf cart’s coming. Just stay where you are.” The team’s head trainer spoke to him, his voice sounding faraway. What was his name again? Jake couldn’t remember. “Your head hurt?”

  Jake closed his eyes and took a careful inventory of himself. “Yeah. It hurts.” He tried to sit up again and the field swam before him. Fuck.

  “Do you know what day it is?” asked the trainer, shining a little flashlight in Jake’s eyes.

  Jake hissed and squinted, trying to escape the stabbing pain of the light. “Uh, yeah, uh, it’s, it’s August.” The trainer exchanged a worried look with Javi. Just the sight of Javi sent a bubble of anger rising up in Jake’s chest, even though he couldn’t explain why he wanted to punch his manager.

  “Oh my God, dude, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” A man with long, dark hair and a worried look on his face crouched over him.

  “Are you the pizza man?” Jake asked, wondering why this guy was worried about him and where the meat lover’s special he’d ordered was. But he never got the chance to ask, because several pairs of hands were helping him up and onto a golf cart. He felt something warm trickle down his cheek, and when he touched his face, his fingers came away tinged with blood. The trainer pressed a towel to the throbbing gash he was now very aware of just under his right eye. As the golf cart zipped over the field, Jake’s stomach heaved, and he turned and puked into the bucket provided for him. He blinked rapidly, trying to make the world come back into focus. As they passed the dugout, he caught a glimpse of Abby, her lip caught between her teeth, her hands rubbing at her throat. He waved and then puked again.

  The next little while went by in a blur as he was rushed to the hospital for a CT scan, where it was confirmed he had a mild concussion, and he was given a bed to stay in overnight for observation, just as a precaution. Slowly, snippets of what happened came back to him, and Joe—the trainer’s name was Joe!—filled in the blanks.

  Jake took a sip of water through a straw, wincing a little. The stitches in his cheek hurt worse than his head now. He set the Styrofoam cup down and adjusted himself in his hospital bed, feeling a little silly in his paper-thin blue and white hospital gown. “The last thing I remember was moving up the line to catch the throw and…” He blinked, trying to remember, but that was it. It was like there was a scene missing, but it didn’t worry him because he knew it’d all come back eventually. This wasn’t the first concussion he’d had during his fifteen-year career. Yet another injury to add to the list. He wasn’t sure how much more baseball his damaged body could take.

  “Where does it pick up again?” asked Joe, leaning back in the chair.

  “Puking in the golf cart.” Waving at Abby. Waving and puking. So sexy. A wave of exhaustion crested over him, and he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after midnight. “
Go home, Joe,” he said gently, easing himself back against the pillow. “I’m okay.” He gestured toward the door and the nearby nurses’ station. “They’re not going to let anything happen to me.”

  Joe sighed and stood. “Get some rest. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” Joe started to leave, but then Jake sat up.

  “Oh, shit. Joe, did we win?”

  Joe turned to him with a smile. “Yeah. We won. Maldonado was called out for sliding into you, we got out of the inning and Beckett hit a walk off home run to win the game.”

  “Good.” Jake closed his heavy eyelids and let sleep come.

  Abby should’ve been out celebrating with the team. They’d won the game thanks to a walk off home run from Beau and were officially tied for the wild cart spot with only a handful of games left to go in the season. But all she could think about was Jake and getting to him. She’d wanted to go to the hospital with him and Joe, but that would’ve been unusual and would’ve raised more than a few eyebrows. So she’d stayed, and celebrated, and tried to pretend that everything was normal. Finally, close to midnight, she was able to slip away.

  It was a miracle she didn’t get a speeding ticket on her way to the hospital. But she didn’t care. She needed to get eyes on Jake, to see for herself that he was okay. She’d heard through Javi’s phone call with Joe that he had a mild concussion and had needed five stitches in his cheek. All in all, it didn’t sound too serious. But it didn’t matter. She needed to see him. She didn’t like the idea of him all alone in that hospital room all night. She needed to be with him more than anything right now.

  By the time she found a parking spot at the Baylor University Medical center and navigated her way up to Jake’s room—okay, so she’d peeked at the text messages on Javi’s phone to find out where he was—her stomach was a pretzel and her chest felt like it was on fire. She couldn’t stop replaying the collision in her mind. She couldn’t stop wondering what might’ve happened had the collision been worse. Couldn’t stop thinking about Jake, and losing him, and the choices she’d made.