Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
JAYDEN
I went to sleep complete. I felt whole for the first time since that state trooper showed up at my brother’s game and pulled Colby’s dad aside to let him know his wife was killed in a fatal car collision while on her way to the game.
When I kissed Colby the first time, I was young and stupid.
I dared myself to do it. Hell, if I’m honest with myself, I was as much a horny eighteen-year-old as I was a young man who thought he was in love.
But then her father told me I was bad for her, that I would ruin her because that’s what the men in my family did—we ruined things.
And that’s when I knew my love for her was the real deal.
Because I believed him. And on the off chance his premonition was right, I took him at his word and promised. I walked away.
Not a single day has passed that I haven’t thought about that moment with a pang in my side, like a hot knife reminding me I left something precious behind.
Sometimes, it’s a fleeting thought, a sensation that hits me during a sad song on a long run, or while I’m hitting on the tee alone.
Before Colby showed up, it was the bus rides.
I’d nestle against the window and look out at the landscape, and reminisce about how she and I would sit in the back of the pickup truck and count slug bugs or shout out the mile markers.
I thought of the times when we were a little older—old enough for feelings to get all weird and shit—and accidentally brushed hands in the back seat.
I never got to ride through part of the country in a bus with her at my side. And I can’t now. But damn, do I want to.
“Good morning,” she says as she steps around the back of the bus, as if we weren’t pressed together, naked, in my shower less than eight hours ago.
I nod and smile, but not too big. I meant it when I promised I wouldn’t let anyone know. If that’s how this has to exist—in a frail bubble that I must protect—then that’s how it is.
I felt her leave in the middle of the night, though I didn’t open my eyes or speak. I knew she wanted to go without words. Without guilt. And I understood. I still do.
Still, I wish she had stayed. I wish she was with me when my phone buzzed with major news forwarded from the PR team. It would have been nice to read the story about us together. Maybe we could have laughed about how little they actually know. Imagine if the next paragraph of that news story read:
And in a turn of events, Coach Kessler and the younger Vargas brother are fucking.
Sure, Jayden thinks it’s more than that.
He’s in love. But so far, it’s just fucking.
And get this . . . they have to keep it a secret because if they don’t, we’ll tear them apart and they’ll both be out of jobs. Ha ha ha ha ha . . .
Okay, that’s probably not how the article would go. But that’s how it would feel. It already does.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Coach Kessler?” Jake says, slapping my back hard as I push my gear into the belly of the bus.
I glare at him, and he laughs, I think enjoying how it bothers me.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I lie.
His lips twist as his brow draws in.
“Uh, yeah. It is, dude. And now your brother is coming. Man, the stories you all probably have.”
“Jake, I’m serious. Her dad was our coach. Katy is a big town. We knew each other and went to school together. But she’s just trying to do her job, and we didn’t bring it up because, well—” I hold my palm out toward him. He’s Exhibit A.
His smirk falters, and his eyes drop to the ground before he bends over and picks up his catcher’s gear.
“You have a point. I get it. And yeah, I can see how she has a lot of shit to deal with. There’s a bit of a men’s club around the minors.” He pushes his gear bag in behind mine, then the two of us board the bus.
Colby is sitting in the third row, near the window.
I catch a glimpse of her hair pulled back into a braid as I pass by, but I purposely don’t look her in the eyes.
Jake doesn’t tease us about our newly revealed connection, either.
Unfortunately, several of my teammates have the maturity level of a junior high schooler, one of them going so far as to make kissing noises as I maneuver my way to a seat in the back.
Of course it’s fucking Adler. I can’t wait for this asshole to get traded.
Everyone knows he got booted to Triple A ball because he’s toxic to a clubhouse.
Texas wanted him out of the dugout, but they owe him too much to let him go completely.
Problem is, no other team wants him. And since Coach refuses to give him enough at-bats to make him worth the headache he is, I fear he’s just going to be an expensive luxury we all have to deal with.
“You want to kiss me or Jake, Adler? Cuz, I think you’d prefer Jake’s lips over mine. Softer and all that. We all know how you like things . . . soft.”
“Fuck off, Vargas.” He gives me a middle finger, and I hiss, then laugh.
“Dude, not cool,” Jake says as he plops into a seat across from me.
“Sorry you got hit with the shrapnel. I had to shut it down, though.”
I reach my fist out, and Jake pounds it and nods.
“Fine, but next time, just punch him in the teeth. We’d all lie for you and say it was an accident,” Jake says.
I laugh hard. Brooks leans into the aisle from a few seats up to get my attention, nodding in agreement with Jake’s idea. “Dude, I’d pay you to do it. Just sayin’,” Brooks adds.
“How much?” I joke.
Brooks pulls out his wallet, but all he has is a twenty, so I sneer and wave it off. “Not enough.”
“Damn.” He chuckles as he situates himself back into his seat.
Poor guy is exhausted. He recently found out he’s a single dad, and before he figured out a nanny situation, his hours were all kinds of messed up.
Seems he has a system sorted out now, though.
He hired this woman Roddy knows . . . Lindsey. I hope it works out.
I pull my phone out to check my messages, and hover over Colby’s contact for a beat, tempted to message her an apology for Adler acting like an ass.
It’s best not to push things, though, and right now, I don’t know that I can fake my texts to sound banal or basic.
I have too many things I want to say to her.
And things I want to do to her. With her.
Add into the mix the news story I can’t seem to get away from, and I decide it’s best that I pop in my earbuds and simply listen to music for most of the ride.
It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to endure my brother’s presence when we reach Little Rock.
He’s meeting the team there. Flying out, because he’s special.
I don’t know how many games they’ll keep him down here with us, but I hope whatever lesson they are trying to teach him is short.
Yeah, he’s in a bit of a hitting slump. But he also just got suspended.
And no one with insight into this game thinks he’s down here to practice and work hard.
Adriel got sent down for punishment. The front office wants to prove to him that he’s expendable.
As difficult as my brother is, though, I’m not sure the front office is right on this one.
Even in a slump, he’s the hottest bat in their offense.
I end up playing through my gameday playlist four times before we pull into the hotel in Little Rock.
My eyes scan the valet parking circle as the bus crawls to a stop.
I half expect to see a new McLaren waiting by the door, the replacement for the last one my brother fucking destroyed.
Instead, though, Adriel is standing in a suit outside a blacked-out Chevy Tahoe.
Davis Halvorson, my brother’s agent, is standing next to him.
My mom refers to Davis as the walking, talking miracle man.
The first time she called him that, it was because he got my brother a solid early deal.
The next several times, however, were because he pulled Adriel’s ass out of trouble.
Let’s see what miracle he can work in Little Rock and Sweetwater.
“He’s actually here,” Jake mutters.
“Trust me. It’s going to feel like he’s fucking everywhere,” I grumble.
We’re the last ones off, and my brother is surrounded by my teammates as I make my way to the underbelly of the bus with Jake.
“You know, your dad is actually a way bigger deal than Adriel is,” I say to Jake.
He purses his lips but shrugs in agreement.
He might not get along with his dad, but he can’t deny the man had a hell of a career.
He also never wrapped a car around a pole or got kicked out of a nightclub for throwing glasses at bartenders.
I also don’t think Roddy’s ever shot any strange shit into his veins or up his nose because he wanted to have a good time or get stronger the easy way.
Those last things are secrets only I know about Adriel. At least, I used to be the only one to know. My brother isn’t exactly discreet. Hopefully, he’s off the shit now. The last thing he needs is to get tested and banned for a full season. Our mom deserves better.
“Baby brother.” Adriel’s voice reaches around my neck and pulls me close. I force a smile on my face, one I’m sure he sees through, and throw my arms around him.
“Hey, man. Finally playing together. Look at that!” I say.
I pull back, and our hands slide together for the kind of shake that’s a show of both strength and familiarity. I flex merely to match him. I hate the patterns I fall into around him. This isn’t a competition. We don’t even play the same positions.
We release our grip, but suddenly, a short blonde with her hair pulled into the tightest ponytail I’ve ever seen wraps her hands around our wrists and forces our hands back together.
“I missed the shot. I need you two to hug and shake one more time,” she says. For some reason, we listen to her orders.
“Okay, so . . . good to see you, like I said,” I say, meeting Adriel’s amused gaze.
“What the fuck?” he says through a chuckle.
I shake my head.
“No idea, man.” The two of us turn to face the spunky woman in a black pantsuit with a deep red blouse underneath. She looks like the assistant for satin, the way she’s dressed, and her black heels practically point into the concrete like needles.
“Great. That was great, guys. I’ll get with you soon about setting up our interviews. This is so good for the team.” She buzzes away as fast as she appeared, and I spin on my heel to look to Jake for some sort of answer.
He holds up his hands and shakes his head.
“Don’t look at me. Her name is Campbell Hines, and she’s the new marketing director.
She’s been pitching me on doing a sit-down interview with my dad for three weeks.
She’s . . . relentless.” Jake tugs his gear bag up over his shoulder, along with his duffel bag, and marches toward the hotel lobby entrance.
“Great,” I mutter, turning back to my brother.
Naturally, though, Adriel is already gone.
I spot him by the other entrance, taking a hit off his vape while he talks with two women in Little Rock fan shirts.
I’m sure he’s trying to convince them to root for the Mavericks this week.
Or, rather, to root for him. Somehow, I have a feeling the two of them will end up in his room tonight.
I draw in a deep breath, then head into the hotel lobby behind Jake. I step to the desk for my key just as Colby spins around with hers, and we nearly bump chests. She braces herself with a palm over my heart, and for the first time since she left my bed last night, it beats loud and hard.