Epilogue - a month later
Olivia POV
Raleigh, NC
I glanced at the suitcase on the edge of my bed, packed and ready to go. My throat ached and I'd spent the morning with ice on my eyes, eyedrops, I'd even dug up some caffeine-laden eye cream, probably left behind by one of Furston's former overnight guests.
“Another holiday not worth remembering.”
Dad had seemed happy to see me, at first. Then it was the impromptu meetings and the job, and finally the lectures. Because no month-long holiday away from school should be without a good old-fashioned lecture about Furston's ambitions, his status, and the ever-so-enlightening assertions that he'd “put his goals on hold” to raise me after my mother left.
We needed to appear like a picture-perfect family, and I was supposed to demonstrate that I was some fucking antiquated idea of a proper young lady. I was positive at any minute someone would show up with a corset and a parasol. Maybe I should take to wearing bonnets?
And the worst was being basically exiled. My, uh, well, Breslin was still in Vanquer with Dotty, Deputy Reegan and the rest of the Reegan family. They'd all be driving up to OKC at the end of the week for the hearing on Breslin’s community service. I'd wanted to ask dear old Dad if he minded, if I could go.
I wanted to tell him about Breslin. Or at least ask Furston about his involvement in Breslin's legal troubles. But I couldn't talk to either of them . . . about either of them. And Curt, I didn't know what was up with him, but I'd barely seen him since I got home. And when I did, he'd basically told me that everything Dad said or did was right and I needed to learn to be a team player.
Hilda and I still weren't speaking. It was just me and this large, empty house, while Dad and Curt were off doing baseball things. Together.
“As usual.” Nothing had changed. And it never would . . . unless I changed it for myself. I glanced at the IML Major League scout application I’d printed out. I’d have to mail it this week, and being selected was probably a longshot. But just filling it out felt like a declaration of independence.
My phone lit up.
Breslin: Hey, you there?
I smiled because it was the compromise we'd agreed on. He liked to use a phone as a phone, and I preferred text. But today, I wished I could transport through the wifi signal to Nowheresville, TX and give him a hug.
My phone buzzed to life. I answered and the breathless sound of his voice held its own husky melody. “Hey. Finally got a break. Thought I'd call.”
“A break, huh?”
“Reegan's kids. They've got energy Jimenez can't rival. And it's like seventy degrees here, so it's too nice to be stuck inside.” His deep voice was exactly what I needed. He was exactly what I needed. “How's everything there?”
“Here? Oh, it's cold.” Empty. Lonely. I miss you.
“Cold, huh?” His voice dipped and took on a playful tone. “I could fix that for you.”
“Oh, you could, huh?” I took a breath. My stomach spun in a dizzy circle. “So charitable these days. Is this going to be your new community service ploy?”
“I'd definitely be . . . dedicated. Finish my hours in a week.”
I laughed. A text came through. I glanced at it.
Breslin: No privacy here.
“There's not five hundred hours in a week.”
“Ah well, it'd take me longer, then. Shame.” His voice curled into my ear.
“You've got a one-track mind.”
“Fair.” He cleared his throat. “So, will I see you this Friday?”
I pulled my knees up to my chest. “I, uh, can't get there, but. But I'm coming back early. So, I'll be there next week. Save me a seat for the special New Years' mystery meat surprise.”
He chuckled. “Actually, Eberhardt's barbequing or something.”
Ah, a baseball team activity. The tight feeling around my chest squeezed. “Ah, you’re busy, then. Well, I’m sure Dotty and I can amuse ourselves?—”
“Want to be my plus one?”
I blinked. What? I can go? “Oh, um, I guess we should keep up appearances.”
“Livvie?” His voice lowered to a dangerous tone. “Don't . . . don’t do that.”
I sighed. He was right, we’d agreed to give this whole actual-dating thing a chance, even though we’d not yet, managed to go on a real “date”. But that didn’t keep us from kissing. And oh, I’d been right, his lips were made for kissing . . . I traced the edge of my lip with my fingertips.
“Livvie.”
I pressed my eyes closed and tried to force the words from my brain to my tongue: my dad’s running for IML minor league president and may have been involved in keeping you out of the draft. And my brother’s a scout for the Sabers, who also turned their back on you. No hard feelings, right? But I just . . . couldn’t. “Sorry, wasn’t exactly a happy family reunion. I needed to hear your voice, so thanks for thinking of me. And calling.” The scout application caught my eye, again. What would Breslin think . . . of any of it?
“What's going on?”
“Not while I'm here. When I get back—” home? Why did that word pop into my brain? “Promise.”
A growl tore through the line. And I knew what was coming.
Breslin: We said none of this pretend shit.
“I know.” I closed my eyes, again, and I could picture him, that look like a wild animal—caught and unsure . . . I wasn't here to hurt him.
“It's too important.” He whispered.
I love you, but I'm afraid to tell you . . .
Breslin: Talk to me, Livvie.
Liv: It's something I should say in person.
Breslin: Are you breaking up with me?
Liv: No!
Breslin: Then tell me something honest. Something I don't know. Say it out loud, I can hear it in your voice when you lie.
Liv: What?!
Breslin: Out loud.
My brain was blank. But he wouldn't ask me if I wasn't, if I would just . . . He can tell in my voice? “Um, remember the day we got stuck in the maintenance closet?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“I wanted you to kiss me, then.”
A pause, and then he huffed out a breath. “I said tell me something I didn't know.”
I gasped. “You ass! You were such an asshole back then. One minute you were nice, being nice to me, the next you were telling people I was probably calling an attorney.” I was on my feet, my heart hammering as I paced, grousing into the phone. “Seriously, you were a jerk.”
Breslin: A jerk you wanted to kiss.
Liv: *&^%#$%
“I wanted to kiss you, that day, too.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Did you, really?”
“Yeah, and other things.”
I rolled my eyes, but it was like the heavy, churning, mechanical gears grinding away at my insides, stopped. My vision sharpened, and the world around me became crystal clear. I picked up my application and folded it into the addressed, stamped envelope.
There were…differences between being a Major League scout and a team-based one. Not the least of which was the reach and influence Furston would have. But I was done being humored or pacified. I would aim higher, and make my own way.
“So, see you next week?” Breslin’s voice warmed and filled the ache in my chest.
“Yeah.” I don't remember if I said anything else because the words from my heart drowned out my voice, my thoughts.
I'm coming home.