Thirty-Three
Holden
Thanks to the shit show last night, there’s a feeling of dread swirling in my gut as we enter the stadium for Leighton’s second game against St. Sebastian.
There’s tension in the air too. It might not be palpable to anyone else, but I feel it whirling overhead like a storm cloud ready to unleash a torrential downpour.
Yet I still climb toward my seat in the bleachers behind left field, despite my better judgment telling me to run the other way.
My intuition has never led me wrong before, although I refuse to listen to it now.
I can’t, even if this could very well be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
And I’ve done a lot of stupid shit, especially when it comes to Phoenix Mercer.
“You sure about this?” Harrison asks, observing me with a fair amount of doubt.
If I’ve ever been sure of anything, it’s that Phoenix is it for me. Yet that doesn’t erase the unsettled feeling low in my stomach as I stare out at the baseball diamond.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
I didn’t see a point in keeping this thing with Phoenix a secret from the three of them anymore after the blow-up with Kason last night, and honestly, I’m glad to tell them. It’s one less burden on my own chest. Three less people I’m keeping secrets from.
While I knew none of them would be shitty about it, I was surprised by just how supportive they were.
Harrison especially, since he tends to keep more to himself.
But last night, when I came back to our hotel room after Phoenix kicked me out, Harrison proved himself to be the kind of friend most people would kill for.
Seeing me so numb and detached and just fucking hurt was a first for him, but he didn’t try to fix anything.
Just sat and talked me off the damn ledge after listening to me spew my guts.
Harrison gives me a tentative smile. “Then I think it’s about time you get your man.”
That’s the idea, but unfortunately, getting my man seems to be easier said than done when I have no clue where the two of us stand now that Kason knows.
I texted him good luck well before he was due here before the game. I already left his favorite flavor of sunflower seeds in the dugout, thanks to Theo ensuring he kept Jerry tied around the package so he’d know exactly where it came from.
And seeing as the first pitch is about to be thrown, he should have gotten both those things by now. Should have had thirty seconds to type back a response or a thank you or send out a proof of life message.
But all I’ve received from Phoenix is radio silence.
Which makes me wonder if I’m really about to make a fool of myself for a guy who doesn’t love me back. Who is too hung up on his best friend’s approval to see that this thing between us…it’s what people cross oceans for, what they write songs about.
It’s the kind of love that only comes once in a lifetime.
The one worth breaking all the rules for.
“You got this,” Noah says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Just don’t blow it like you almost did during our volleyball game in Florida.”
“That was a seriously misplaced attempt at support,” Luca tells him before glancing at me. “You’ll be fine, all right? We got your back, no matter what happens.”
It’s good to know, because I honestly feel like I’m gonna be sick. Upchuck the breakfast I barely ate all over the seats in front of me. A feeling that only increases five minutes later when the Timberwolves take the field and Phoenix comes running out toward the outfield.
I can’t even look at him without my heart racing. It’d be romantic if it didn’t feel so fucking pathetic for him to have this much power over me.
But he does, which is precisely why I find myself walking down the stands to the same spot I met him yesterday, ready to say all the things I didn’t when I had the chance.
His back is to me while he focuses on tossing the baseball with his right fielder, and thanks to the NCAA rule only allowing two minutes between innings, my time is already limited. A good thirty seconds have passed in no time, and I need every remaining one to get this out.
“Nix!” I shout, my fingers curled over the wall. But he doesn’t look. In fact, it takes calling his name another two times before I finally feel those dark brown eyes on me.
“Holden?”
I nod, my fingers tightening on the padding. “Come here. Please.”
There’s a slight frown on his lips as he jogs over, and as the distance between us dwindles to nothing but a ten-foot vertical drop in no time, I hate it more and more.
But it’s the tired, dejected look in his eyes as they stare up at me that makes me wish I could grab him by the jersey, haul him up here, and wrap my arms around him.
Take away some of the pain he’s so clearly in.
“I didn’t realize you guys were staying for both days.”
My brows furrow, wondering why we wouldn’t. “We want to support you. Support the team.”
His ungloved hand adjusts the hat on his head before he glances over to his right fielder, who is openly waiting for him.
“What is it, Holden? I’m kinda in the middle of a game, and I shouldn’t be over here at all.”
God. The defeat in his voice is heartbreaking.
“I know,” I whisper, the words coming out on shards of glass. “But I need to talk to you.”
He lets out a sharp laugh. “It couldn’t have waited another couple hours?”
Shaking my head, I tighten my grip on the barrier separating us and hope it’s enough to keep me from vaulting over it to get to him.
His jaw ticks. “Well, I can’t do this right now. I’ve got—”
“I’ll be quick, but you need to hear this.
” I swallow past the baseball-sized knot in my throat, my fingers gripping the wall tighter.
“You need to know that I don’t care if your loyalty to Kason wins out, and all I’m doing here is making a fool of myself.
It doesn’t matter, and I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, because I can’t go another day keeping this shit to myself. Especially now that he knows.”
There’s pain and sorrow etched into his features that might as well run my heart through a blender as he goes to speak.
“Hold—”
“I’m sorry,” I cut in, knowing my time is limited.
“I have a lot of things to apologize for, and those can all wait ‘til we have more time. Hell, I’m sorry for doing this now, during a game instead of waiting. But if there’s one thing through this entire fucked-up situation I’m not sorry for, it’s falling in love with you. And you need to know that.”
His dark eyes give nothing away as they bore into mine. Neither does his body language, facial expression…absolutely nothing. And it sends my anxiety sky-rocketing into outer space.
“Say something,” I plead, unable to stand his silence. “Please, say something.”
The timer on the clock keeps ticking down, every second both flashing by instantly while also dragging on for eternity. Both of which are agonizing while I wait for the man I love to tell me he loves me too. Wait for some kind of answer from the guy who could… fuck.
The guy who could be my forever.
“Nix. Baby—”
“I have to go,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ll find you after the game, and we can talk, okay?”
On second thought, now it feels like my heart has been tossed in a blender.
“Okay,” I manage to choke out. “Good luck.”
All I get in return is a half-hearted smile before he turns and jogs back into position without a backward glance. Meanwhile, I’m left frozen where I stand, helplessly staring after him and wondering if this will be the last time I have to watch him walk away.
The game drags on forever, and because fate is a cruel bitch, it also goes into extra innings. Three of them, to be exact. And by the time some of Phoenix’s teammates start filing out of the stadium toward the bus, I’ve just about lost my damn mind.
I wait, crouched against the brick exterior, as the sun begins setting off in the distance, illuminating the city in shades of orange and yellow. A beautiful sight, one I’d no doubt enjoy a lot more if I didn’t feel like the sky was about to crash down on top of me.
At least I was smart enough to give Harrison and the others my keys to the Jeep. I don’t want them around to watch this go down, especially ifit ends badly. The last thing I want or need is an audience while having my heart ripped to shreds.
I sure didn’t envy Quinton and Oakley when it happened with them a couple of weeks ago.
My fingers sink into my hair as more of Phoenix’s teammates load their bags into the luggage hold of the bus before climbing the stairs to find a seat. Watching each one of them only causes my stomach to churn with even more anxiety.
Thankfully, Theo emerges from the stadium a few minutes later, spotting me the second he steps foot outside. And when he does, the look of sympathy crossing his face just about guts me. A feeling that only gets worse after he tosses his bat bag into the bus and approaches me.
He doesn’t say anything when he squats down beside me; he just aims a gentle smile before squeezing my shoulder. It’s meant to be reassurance, obviously, but it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way.
It feels like the rest of my life is being ripped from my grasp.
“He’s coming, right?” I find myself asking as my head sinks to my hands. “He’s getting on that bus?”
There’s another soft squeeze of my shoulder before Theo releases me and stands.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?”
Once I register his words, my head snaps up to find a set of the darkest brown eyes I’ve ever seen already staring at me from only a few feet away.
Eyes I know so well, they might as well be my own.
“Nix,” I whisper while scrambling to my feet. I’m caught between wanting to rush forward to haul him into my arms, while also realizing he might not want me to touch him. May need to keep some distance between us when all I’m craving is to erase it entirely.
I fucking hate this.