by Tara Wyatt
Tom shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I disagree,” he said, his cold eyes flitting over Abby. “She violated coach ethics and MLB’s code of conduct.”
“Get off your fucking high horse,” said Javi with a snort. “According to that same code of conduct, you could fire me for having beers with the players. They’re guidelines, not hard and fast rules, and you know it.”
“Well, we need to figure out what we’re going to do because the longer we wait to release a statement, the worse it looks,” said Laurel, her voice flaring with impatience. Finally, Abby couldn’t take it anymore and she stood and paced to the windows, her arms crossed over her chest.
“I know I messed up. I’m sorry. I should’ve disclosed my relationship with Jake as soon as he was traded. I didn’t, and that’s on me. But please know that this job and this organization mean everything to me. Tell me what I need to do to fix this and I’ll do it. Please don’t fire me.”
“We’re not going to fire you,” said Robert, blinking at her from behind his thick glasses. “Not only would that reflect poorly on the organization, but you’re good at your job from what Javier tells me. I’m not going to let talent go. But…” he shrugged and looked over at the lawyers, who both nodded. “It would be inappropriate for you to continue your relationship with Landon, because Tom’s right, it’s a violation of ethics, and I can’t condone that.”
Abby’s heart sank to somewhere around her feet. It was the answer she’d both been hoping to hear and the one she’d been dreading, twisted up into one. She nodded slowly, absorbing it. If she kept her job, she had to let Jake go, for good. She’d be heartbroken, but she’d have her career. She’d still have everything she’d worked for. If she chose Jake, she’d have him—and that counted for a lot—but what else would she have? She’d have no career, no future, no livelihood. Her dreams would be gone.
She loved Jake. But was loving him enough for her to give up absolutely everything else in her life? The answer to that question sat like a hot coal on her chest.
She’d been a fool to ever think she could have it all. Life had taught her over and over again that it just wasn’t possible. Not with the path she’d chosen.
“Abby?” asked Robert, his tone gentle. “Are you on board with all of this?”
A chill ran through her as her heart broke, piece by piece, crumbling away. “Yeah. I’m on board.”
Fourteen
Jake lay sprawled on his hotel room bed in Houston, only half paying attention to the South Park rerun he had on the TV when a soft knock sounded at the door. Adrenaline shot through him and he sprang up, fumbling for the remote and turning the TV off. It could only be one person, and he’d been waiting to talk to her all day. He hadn’t wanted to call her, knowing she had a mountain of shit to deal with, and as soon as she had news for him, she’d tell him. So he’d spent the entire day waiting to find out if she was okay.
If they were okay.
He opened the door to find Abby on the other side, he could almost feel his heart shrinking. Her eyes were red and puffy, the skin on her chest splotchy, her shoulders slumped. She looked like she’d been through the wringer. Moving completely on instinct, he pulled her into the room, closed the door and wrapped his arms around her. As soon as her face made contact with his chest, she started to shake, her entire body trembling against him. She let out a sob, muffled by his T-shirt. He held her tighter, aching for her.
After a moment and a few shuddering breaths, she stilled but didn’t move out of his arms. “The team released a statement saying that what happened was a gross invasion of privacy, but that they also recognize the inappropriateness of the situation, and that there is no ongoing romantic relationship between any coaches and players.” Her voice wobbled and then broke as she spoke.
He slipped a hand under her chin and tilted her face up, meeting her eyes. “There isn’t?” His throat thickened and he swallowed hard.
Her face crumbled. “They gave me a choice, Jake. My job or us. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She buried her face in his chest again, and Jake felt as though the room was spinning around him. “I can’t be a coach and date a player on my team. That’s that.”
A part of him wanted to beg her to reconsider, to ask her to choose him, but he couldn’t do that. What kind of selfish asshole would he be if he asked her to give up everything she’d spent her life working for? As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do that to her.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, sitting down against the headboard with her nestled against him. Stroking a hand up and down her back, he kissed the top of her head. He felt lost, like he was stumbling around in the dark without a flashlight, trying to figure out where to go. And yet a part of him felt as though he deserved to lose her because he’d put her in this position in the first place. That losing what they had was penance for not protecting her from all of this. He’d known how much she had to lose and he’d jumped in with both feet anyway. Fuck, she’d told him from their first meeting that she didn’t date players and he’d cajoled her into dating him anyway. Yeah, she made her own choices, but he wasn’t blameless in this mess. Not by a longshot.
She looked up at him, mascara staining the skin beneath her eyes. “You know I love you, right? You know I wish I could choose us?”
He swallowed, his throat aching. Everything aching. “I know. I know. I never wanted you to have to choose or…” He cleared his throat, his eyes stinging.
She pressed her face into his chest. “I got greedy. I wanted everything, and for a while, I thought I could have it. I thought I had it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. But that’s not the way any of this works. Not for me, anyway. I don’t get to have everything. I’ve always had to choose, and I’ve chosen baseball so many times that it’s my life. My family.” She sat up and laid a hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring that touch, knowing it was going to be one of the last. “But I don’t regret being with you. How could I? Jake, you’re…” She rubbed her hands over her face. “I hate this. I hate this.” She let out a strangled sob and he pulled her back into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Abby. I should’ve…fuck, I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve thought that there might be cameras, or that…I don’t know.” He should’ve found a way to prevent all of this. He loved her, cared about her more than anyone, and yet he’d let her risk so much just to be with him.
She looked up at him, anguish shining out at him from her eyes. He could see what this was costing her. “Please don’t hate me.”
“Shit, no. I don’t hate you. Abby, I will never hate you. Never. You were given an impossible choice.” He hated that he was the less appealing option, but he got it. This was her entire life they were talking about. He’d never ask her to throw it away for a guy she’d been dating for a few months. Even though he wanted to because the thought that things were really over between them hurt. But he had to let her go. He had to. It was the only right thing to do. The only way to try to make up for his carelessness, his earlier selfishness.
“I don’t want to break up with you. I wish this could be different. More than anything, I just wish everything was different.”
He stroked a hand over her hair. “You mean if there was no baseball? If we were just two regular people who happened to meet and start dating?”
She snuggled into him. “Yeah. If we were still us without everything else.”
It was a pretty fantasy, but that was all it could ever be. Because they weren’t regular people. She was the MLB’s first female coach, and he was a future Hall of Famer who played on her team, and there was no changing that.
“I’m really gonna miss you,” he said, his voice hoarse. He rubbed a hand over his stinging eyes.
“Me too, Jake. Me too.”
They clung to each other in silence, hearts breaking in unison, tears sliding down cheeks. But eventually she sat up. “I should go. I’ve probably already stayed too long.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Okay.�
� She pulled away from him and he felt the loss of her like the loss of a limb. His entire body ached, his eyes burned, and his chest felt like a rotting, gaping hole.
She wiped at her face as she headed for the door, her shoulders slumped. It took everything he had not to reach for her, to pull her back into his arms and beg her to pick him. To pick them. But it wasn’t that simple, and even if it were, he wasn’t that big of an asshole. She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“Remember when you said that you’d be a mess without me?”
He nodded and cleared his throat, not trusting himself to speak.
“Yeah, well. Same.” And then she was out the door and gone. Out of his arms, out of the room, out of his life.
Jake suddenly didn’t have the energy to stand anymore, and so he sank down onto the bed and dropped his head into his hands.
“Bottom of the second here in Houston as the Dallas Longhorns take on the Astros in a battle not just for the Division Series, but home state bragging rights,” says Wayne Hopkins. “Early in the game, it’s one-nothing for the Astros. How have the Longhorns looked to you tonight, Ron?”
“You know, not the best I’ve seen them come out,” says Ron Whittaker. “I can’t help but wonder if some of the clubhouse drama has affected the team.”
“That’s entirely possible. That kind of thing can be a source of distraction for the players, as well as cause tension. But we’re not going to comment on or speculate about the situation out of respect for the parties involved.”
“Agreed. Let’s just hope it’s not a factor in tonight’s game.”
They’d lost the first game against the Astros 6-3, so there was no celebrating that night in Houston, but Jake found himself headed for the hotel bar anyway. After spending last night alone in his hotel room, eating room service and mindlessly channel surfing, he wasn’t ready to head back up there just yet. He needed to find a way to turn the guilt boiling inside him down to a low simmer.
It was a complex guilt, and one he sat with constantly. Guilt over Abby’s humiliation. Guilt over not protecting her. Guilt over the drama he’d caused the team. Guilt over Abby’s broken heart and the choice she’d been forced to make. It sat like a layer over everything else—over the loss, the sadness, the anger and disappointment. And so tonight, he was going to drink until he was numb. Until he felt nothing. Because he couldn’t change or fix any of it, and for just a little while, he didn’t want to feel.
He stepped into the hotel bar, which was mostly empty. Two tufted leather sofas sat in front of the long gas fireplace by the entrance. Cozy, intimate booths lined the far left wall, while the bar took up the right. Everything was dimly lit and finished in shades of brown and blue, giving the space an inviting feel. Being in here felt better than being in his room.
Jake slid onto one of the upholstered bar stools and ordered a bourbon. He was normally more of a beer guy, but beer wouldn’t cut it tonight. Just as the bartender sat his drink down in front of him, Jake felt more than saw two figures approach on either side of him. Dylan sank into the stool on Jake’s left, while Hunter dropped into the one on his right. Great. Company. The last fucking thing Jake wanted right now.
“Don’t,” he ground out before either of them could say a word. But they didn’t move. Dylan ordered a beer, while Hunter ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Hunter and Dylan said nothing, sipping at their drinks. But he knew they wouldn’t be able to leave him alone, and he was proven right when Hunter finally spoke after a few minutes.
“I’m really sorry about the way everything went down. I’m sorry for Abby, and sorry for you. It sucks.”
Dylan nodded in agreement. “Yup. So fucking unfair.”
Jake said nothing, just tossed back the rest of his bourbon and ordered another. He didn’t want to talk about this. Mainly because he was just barely keeping himself together, and he was scared that if he started talking, he’d fall apart and he just didn’t have the strength to put himself back together tonight.
“I don’t think it’s right that the team told her she had to choose,” said Hunter, keeping his gaze straight ahead. At that, Jake’s head swiveled around in Hunter’s direction.
“How’d you know about that?”
“Abby mentioned it.”
At the sound of her name, Jake felt as though someone had slipped a knife right between his ribs.
Dylan gestured to Jake’s stool. “She sat here last night. With us.” Dylan shook his head. “She’s a mess.”
Jake ground his teeth together and clenched his fist. “You don’t think I know that? If there was something I could do about it, I would. Believe me.” His words came out clipped and angry. “I’m a fucking mess, too.”
“No shit,” drawled Hunter, shaking his head. “But there’s gotta be a way forward.”
Jake narrowed his eyes at him. “What do you mean?”
“You believe in soulmates?” Hunter asked.
Jake paused. “I don’t fucking know.” Did he believe there was one right person for everyone? One perfect person? Maybe. But what good was it when it couldn’t work out?
“I do,” said Hunter simply. “And I think Abby’s yours.”
Dylan nodded. “Me too.”
“And you two are experts on this, huh?” Jake asked, taking another healthy swallow of bourbon. His chest felt warm, his head a little fuzzy, and some of the tension eased out of his muscles.
“Uh, yeah. We kinda are,” said Dylan. “This is always the way it goes. It’s like the universe has to test you or some shit. But then you figure it out, you make it right, and you get her back in your life.”
“You pass the test, you get the girl. All you have to do is figure out what she needs the most,” said Hunter.
Jake shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
“Not right now, but it could be,” said Dylan. “Listen, we know what we’re talking about. We’ve both been exactly where you are right now.” He sighed and took a long pull on his beer. “Maggie and I were high school sweethearts, but I was a dumbass who made a bad decision and broke her heart. When she and I reconnected after I got traded to Dallas, she didn’t want anything to do with me, but I knew. I fucking knew, Landon, that there was no one else for me. It was Maggie. Always had been.”
Despite himself, Jake found himself intrigued by Dylan’s story. “So then what happened?”
“We started seeing each other again, after I convinced her to give me another chance. But then BAM. Universe smack, right upside the head. She found out about some pretty big shit I hadn’t told her from our past, and she broke up with me.”
Jake leaned forward a little, his glass clutched in his hands. “So what did you do? How did you fix it?”
Dylan grinned. “I figured out what she needed, and that was honesty. The truth, and the ability to trust me. So I took a lie detector test.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up. “You took a lie detector test? Damn. Hope she forgave you after that.”
Dylan smiled again, this time his eyes going all soft. “She did.”
“And things are good?”
“I hired a jeweler to design an engagement ring, so…”
“Man, you got off easy,” said Hunter, waving a hand in Dylan’s direction. Dylan just laughed and drank his beer.
“What’s your story, then?” Jake asked Hunter, the wheels in his mind starting to turn. “I mean, you’re married, so it all clearly worked out.”
Hunter barked out a laugh, shot back his whiskey and set the glass down with a loud clack on the bar. “Eventually, even though I was pretty much the world’s biggest fucking idiot and tried to burn it all down.”
“Why would you do that?” Jake asked.
Hunter looked at him as though he were simple. “Because I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot. Anyway, the highlight reel, as it were. Marlowe and I were really casual. We met at a party, started hooking up whenever our schedules lined up. I caught feelings, she claimed she didn’t, but I knew better. We w
ere both going through some shit, went to Vegas and woke up married.”
Jake cocked an eyebrow at him. “As one does.”
Dylan laughed and ordered everyone another round.
“We decided to play it out for the publicity, although I was also trying to get her to admit she cared about me too. But then things got real, and I got scared. I have this small habit of self-sabotaging—”
Dylan almost snorted beer through his nose. “Small? Yeah, okay. Sure.”
Hunter shot him a look. “I’m working on it, okay? Anyway, I pushed her away. I’d fucked up so much other stuff I thought she’d be better off without me.”
“But she obviously took you back,” said Jake, gesturing at the wedding band on Hunter’s finger.
“Yeah. I had to get my shit together, and then I had to figure out what she needed from me.”
“And what was it?”
“Vulnerability.”
“He sang Justin Bieber on her lawn,” Dylan snickered.
“Hey, it got her to talk to me again. And I’ve been showing her ever since that I can be vulnerable. I’m trying.”
Jake sat back on his stool and rubbed a hand over his mouth, absorbing everything Hunter and Dylan were saying.
“This isn’t as simple as taking a lie detector test, or serenading her. I can’t do anything because this is her career we’re talking about. I can’t ask her to walk away from that.”
Dylan shrugged. “So don’t. Listen, do you want to be with Abby?”
This time, the sound of her name made his stomach twist and tighten while his heart kicked against his ribs. Did he want to be with Abby? What kind of question was that? Abby was…fuck, she was everything. Gorgeous and smart and driven and funny. He’d never met anyone like her, and he knew he never would again. She was one of a kind. Unique. Special. And she made him feel like a goddamn king whenever he was with her. She had this way of lighting everything up. Food tasted better when he was with her. Air smelled sweeter. Life was good, better than he ever could’ve imagined, when she was in it.