Curveball (Primrose Hill #2)

Chapter 1

Walker

“Fuck, I’m nervous,” I muttered, dragging a shaky breath in and forcing it back out.

My knee bounced nonstop, palms slick with sweat as I waited for Farrah to get to my apartment. She was coming from one of her summer architecture classes. It was a little after three—she should’ve been here by now.

When she heard what I had to tell her, everything would change.

For better or for worse? That was yet to be determined… by her.

Farrah King and I had been orbiting each other our entire lives.

We’d begun dating when I was a senior and she was a junior in high school.

Our moms were best friends, and both of our giant families essentially were as well.

The Kings lived in Forest Park, a neighboring town only fifteen minutes down the road from Primrose Hill.

Farrah, Addison, and I were very close growing up.

Things began to shift sometime in high school, when Farrah and I started noticing each other differently…

much to Addison's dismay (she was over it now).

Our moms, on the other hand, had their dreams coming true.

Baseball had been my life since I was four years old.

I loved everything about the sport, lived and breathed it.

I played varsity all four years of high school, and I was an all-American pitcher.

I was recruited to play for The University of Texas, and luckily, when it was time for Farrah to go to college, she joined me at UT.

Farrah never missed a game. She was my biggest support, outside of my family, and she was it for me. I knew that at a young age.

During the first few years of college, we talked quite a bit about what our lives would look like after graduation.

She was getting her degree in interior design, and I was getting mine in business.

She envisioned a quiet life in either Primrose Hill or Forest Park—she would own her own interior design firm, and I would take my rightful place helping run my family's business, Primrose Estates Winery and Vineyard.

Baseball was supposed to end after college; that was always the plan.

Or at least always her plan.

I wasn't the planning type, so I couldn't say what exactly I envisioned my life to be after college, except that she would be in it.

Did I think baseball ended after college?

Yeah, that seemed likely, and going pro seemed near impossible.

I was a damn good pitcher, but getting drafted seemed like a pipe dream.

Until my senior year.

We went to the College World Series. Everything clicked.

I pitched the best season of my life, threw a no-hitter in the final game, and suddenly my name was everywhere.

Awards, headlines, draft projections I never thought I’d see.

My agent said the Austin Aviators were planning to take me tomorrow.

It wasn’t official yet but it was looking real.

My hometown team. An hour from Primrose Hill. A dream I didn’t know I was allowed to want.

It would be the perfect situation for Farrah and me. I just needed to convince her of that.

So, that was what I was about to do: tell her that plans had changed, and tomorrow I could be drafted into the majors to start my career as a professional pitcher.

Baseball was not ending after college.

The key turned in the lock, snapping me out of my thoughts. Farrah stepped inside, startled when she saw me standing there. She placed her hand over her heart. "Jesus, you scared me," she breathed out.

“Sorry, baby.” I pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her hair as I breathed her in. Jasmine and citrus. Holding her always steadied me.

She stepped out of my embrace, eyes searching my face. She tilted her head to the side. "What's wrong?"

Farrah always knew when something was bothering me or when I was nervous. She could read me like a fucking book when no one else could. I flashed her a small smile and took her hand in mine, leading her to the couch. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay," she replied nervously as she settled next to me on the couch. "What's up?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts. I’d rehearsed this a hundred times, but the words tangled in my throat.

My mind went blank. "I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure, but if everything goes the way they said it will, I’m getting drafted tomorrow.

" I paused to gauge her reaction. She was silent, so I continued.

“The Austin Aviators called my agent today. So unless something changes, the Aviators are planning to take me tomorrow.”

Her hands slipped from mine, sending a sickening feeling straight to my gut. Farrah stared at her lap, breath shuddering, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Why was she crying? Shouldn't we be celebrating?

I mean, I know we hadn’t planned for this, but this was huge for me. I went to swipe a tear from her face, but she pulled away.

Well shit, that wasn't good.

Farrah finally looked up at me, pain etched in her dark green eyes. "I-I don't know what to say. I mean, wow. Congratulations, Walker, that's incredible. I'm really happy for you and so, so proud of you. I just…" She glanced off to the side.

"Farrah, this is a good thing. Yes, there will be a lot of travel, but my home base and training facility will be here in Austin. You could still open your interior design firm and everything. You could do it here in Austin or even back home if you wanted; it’s only an hour away.

We’ll be set up for life financially." I reached for her hand again, holding it in mine. I gave it a reassuring squeeze.

More tears fell, throwing me off guard. "Wildflower, why are you crying?"

Farrah shook her head. "Walker. This isn't going to work." She pulled her hand back out of my grasp.

I reared back, her comment punching me in the face. "What are you talking about? Of course it will. This is the best-case scenario for our future, Farrah." I stood up, running my hands through my hair, frustrated.

She looked up at me, completely defeated. "It is for you, but it isn't for me. Walker, I can't relive this last year again. I can’t handle the weeks apart, the girls throwing themselves at you, the messages, the anxiety. It nearly broke me last year.”

My heart raced, breath coming too fast. “Nothing happened!” I said desperately. “You know me. Those girls, the attention. None of it meant anything.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And that’s why this hurts so much.”

She sat back down, gripping my hand like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “I love you. But I can’t live in that world. I didn’t ask for this life. You going pro was never our plan," she all but whispered.

Anger and panic warred inside me. This was supposed to be the time of my life, I was being drafted to the fucking major league of baseball, and yet I felt like someone had punched me in the gut.

"No, Farrah. It was never your plan. Why can't plans change?

I had the year of my life in baseball, and now everything I worked for my entire life, all the sacrifices I made for baseball, are finally paying off.

And you just want to bail?" I felt gutted.

She was the one person who had always been in my corner. If she could walk away that easily… was she really it for me? Or had I been the only one who was all in?

Did I even want to be with someone who thought my dreams were too big?

Tears continued to stream down her pretty face. "I love you, Walker. More than anything, but I have to also be true to myself, and I know I can't live like that. You’ll be amazing, and I am so proud of you." She gave my hand a squeeze, "You need to go live your dream."

I stared down at our hands and then back up at her, jaw clenched so tight it ached. "And what will you do?"

She forced a small smile. “I’ll go live mine. Our dreams don’t align, and that’s okay. People grow up and grow apart. We’re on different paths. It happens, but at least we can walk away as friends. No anger. No resentment.”

I almost laughed at that.

Because I felt all of it.

And then some.

Betrayal sitting at the top of the list.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” I said finally, because there was nothing else left to say. She already had one foot out the door, and I wasn’t about to beg someone to stay.

Not when I wasn’t sure I’d ever really had her the way I thought I did.

She hugged me once more, then walked out the door, taking my heart with her.

I stayed there long after she was gone, staring at the empty space she’d left behind.

How could the best moment of my life also be the worst?