Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
COLBY
There is a certain grace in everything Jayden does.
The way he swings for the fences.
The way he runs.
The way his eyes flutter closed just before his lips brush against mine.
I’ve fallen under a spell, and I can’t seem to break it, no matter how steep the cliff that is inevitably waiting for me.
I may have already gone over. I can’t say for sure, but the burning hole growing by the second in my gut says that I’m falling.
Hard and fast. And the crash is going to be brutal. Barely survivable.
“It’s obvious.” That’s what Coach Shuster said when he pulled me out to let me know Jayden wasn’t getting called up this time, and he worries that my judgement about his readiness is clouded.
It’s obvious.
I didn’t ask him to delve into the details of what that meant. He didn’t need to. It was pretty clear based on his follow-up.
“I’m sending you back to Sweetwater tonight, uust until the story settles down. We’ll reevaluate on Monday.”
He wasn’t mean. In fact, everything but his words felt optimistic. I think that’s why I ran out of the room so fast when everything was said and done. But when I replayed that small part about the story settling down, I got curious. I reconsidered the questions asked during our interviews.
Did we ever date in high school?
How long have we known each other?
Were the three of us—as in me and both Vargas boys—all friends?
Did our relationship ever get complicated?
A quick scan of social media filled in the blanks.
Someone leaked a rumor, tipping the gossip side of the media to possible romance brewing in the clubhouse.
A few trolls was all it took for people to start sharing photos of Jayden and my father back when he played for him.
Of Jayden with me, from our yearbook of all things.
Of Jayden with his brother. Of all of us as kids.
And then . . . the crash.
It felt so invasive, the stories written on our behalf so far from the truth it would have been laughable if it weren’t so fucking sad.
My life from thirteen years ago was suddenly crashing into my present, as if I was being forced to live in a loop. And now, I’m being sent home. Pulled away from the one thing that finally made me feel as if I’d made it.
A page ripped out of sports history.
My work might be erased. Trivialized.
Just like Coach Bastion wanted.
I don’t know how to process whatever might be coming next.
It’s the mystery of trying to make it in this world.
Someone is always coming after your job.
And I don’t feel I can ask Coach Shuster questions.
I don’t know if I’d like the answers. And I certainly don’t want to take things up with Campbell in PR, or with the human resources team in Texas.
So, I’ll go back to Sweetwater. And I’ll wait. While Jayden stays here.
My hands press against Jayden’s chest as he holds me in his arms. I need a breath, a moment to clear my head. I step back, and worry lines etch his face.
“I’m okay, Colby. I get it. Adriel is where their money is, and my brother is a great player. I’ll get my time.”
I shake my head and flop down on the bed. Fuck, here come the goddamn tears again.
“You don’t understand. This isn’t working. I’m messing everything up for you. Coach . . . he said . . .” I take a deep breath and look up into his eyes as he cups my face in his palms. I lean the weight of my head into one palm.
“He said it’s obvious,” I say.
Jayden’s eyes blink slowly, and he sucks in his upper lip before nodding.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” I laugh. It’s not the funny kind of laugh.
Jayden steps in closer, his knees brushing against mine. The pad of his thumb runs along my lower lip as his mouth forms a soft, soothing smile.
“Yeah, Colby. Okay,” he says, bending down and kissing me gently. I nearly lift off the bed as his mouth pulls away. This is how it happens. How I grow clouded. How I fall into obvious patterns. How people see.
“Did you hear what I said? Coach says it’s obvious. As in me and you obvious. How is this okay?”
“Because you’re still a coach here. I’m still a player. Nothing has changed. So that means . . . it’s okay.” His logic is so, well, logical. Only he’s missing the rest of the story.
“No, Jayden. It’s not.” I bite my tongue and prevent myself from adding that I’m being sent home. The last thing either of us needs right now is him coming to my defense. That will only push Coach’s decision in the wrong direction. I’m sure of it.
Jayden’s eyes narrow again, and his mouth straightens.
“He’s worried about my judgement. With you. He wants to reevaluate.” I use Coach’s exact words, but Jayden still doesn’t seem as worried as I am.
“You won’t get to the next level if nobody believes us when we say you’re ready,” I add.
“I’ll just have to show them,” he says, his thumb grazing my jawline. The way his eyes dash around my face, his expression so certain—I wish I could feel like him. Everything boiling in my chest right now feels like doom.
Jayden’s rationale is crazy, and I laugh as my gaze moves to the television screen showcasing all of the exciting things to do in Little Rock during our hotel stay. I snap my gaze back to his and grab hold of the hem on his long-sleeve Mavericks shirt.
“People will talk. They’re already talking.”
So many people. Strangers on the internet.
Jayden simply shrugs at my words, dropping his lips to mine briefly and pulling away with a smile.
“Let them.”
His ease with all of this is confounding.
His touch makes me dizzy, and I start to believe the words he’s saying.
But I can’t stay here. I have to get back to my room to pack my clothes and toiletries and take a car to the airport.
I need to put all of this into perspective for both of us before I can give him any more of me. I need him to understand.
“Bastion wants me gone, Jayden. And as wrong as his reasons are, he’s smart enough to exploit anything he can. And he sees us. He’s always watching me. With you.” I hold my eyes open on his, and he holds his breath for a moment before sitting down beside me. We are quiet for a moment.
“It’s not unheard of,” he begins.
“What’s not?” I turn to my side, and he reaches for my hand.
“Players in relationships with organizational staff. It happens.”
I shake with one hard laugh as my mouth falls open. His brow draws in with confusion.
“I’m pretty sure someone who works in ticket sales dating a pitcher, or someone who does graphics or, hell, even marketing, is a lot different than a coach. I literally hold your career in my hands. They trust me to be unbiased.”
“So, be unbiased. I can take it,” he says, turning to meet me eye-to-eye.
“My unbiased opinion is that you’re the hardest working player on this team.
You aren’t the biggest, but you’re the fastest. And you are going to continue getting better with every at-bat you take because that’s what you’ve proven you’ll do.
But I can make those statements until I’m blue in the face and nobody is going to listen, because—”
“Because what? Because we’re sleeping together?”
My eyes prick with tears. It’s not that simple, and he has to see that.
“No, Jayden.” I shake my head. “Because I—”
Because I love you.
Both of us go silent, and even though the word wasn’t said out loud, it lingers in the air.
I want it to be spoken by both of us, but also, not like this.
I don’t want it to be irrational. I don’t want it to be some knee-jerk fairytale idea he puts into the universe, a tale of him and me against the world. Our love will conquer all!
Those are nice sentiments, but we’re part of a billion-dollar machine.
And while we aren’t major cogs in the wheel of this organization or the parent team above it, our actions can still derail things.
The gossip online likely already has. And nobody will give a rat’s ass about our love story when deciding whether or not to shuffle Jayden into some trade deal or invest in his future.
They’ll only care about unfiltered, unbiased, cold, hard facts.
And giving a fair shake to a woman in a man’s job won’t even be on the table. It’s a miracle it ever was.
“What do you want, Colby?” he says, his hand slipping over mine again.
He curls his fingers around my palm, and it grounds me for a moment.
It would be so easy to stay. That’s why I ran here, isn’t it?
Why I stole the extra keycard from his wallet the night before.
I planned on sneaking in here for very different reasons, under different circumstances.
But now . . . now I think it’s better if we sleep in our own rooms tonight.
“We need to be a lot less obvious,” I say, because there’s no way I’m saying what I really should. That maybe we can’t do this. Can’t have this. That I’m not just leaving his room; I’m leaving this state.
“Okay,” he says.
I get to my feet before my courage dissolves, and Jayden remains seated on the side of the bed as my hand slips away.
“Okay,” I hum.
I drop the keycard on the hotel dresser and back away, my eyes on his soft smile, ignoring all the ways it appears uncertain.
I’m sure my expression is the same. I feel it in my lips; they’re ready to crack.
But I hold my emotions at bay for a few more steps, until I get to his door.
I don’t say good luck tomorrow or see you in the morning.
He doesn’t need my luck, and I won’t see him.
He’ll be here, and I’ll be in Oklahoma. Unless, of course, Coach reevaluates without me. And then, who knows where I’ll land.