Chapter 23
Hunter
This is supposed to be the moment of my life—the culmination of years of grinding on the ball field and pushing my arm to the max on the mound—and all I need to do is get on this plane.
Yet here I am at gate six in the OKC airport, my lucky glove in the bag on my shoulder and a start in Texas waiting for me in the morning, and I can’t seem to get myself to board the damn plane.
“Why don’t you come with me?” I’ve asked Renleigh no less than a dozen times to make this trip with me.
I have the means to make it happen. I can buy the first-class ticket for her.
I have a seat for her in at the stadium in Texas.
My parents are going to be there, too; she won’t be alone.
Hell, I’ll get Lindsey here, too. And her boys.
It sounds like she needs an escape from Sweetwater as much as Renleigh does.
“I need to be here, for my dad,” she says, the same answer as the last ten times.
I nod, my fingers tangling with hers until she slips her hand away. My group boards next. I have only minutes with her until I either come back or get her to come visit me.
“Your mom seemed willing to—”
“She can’t take care of him,” she cuts me off. “Or I can’t rest easy for thinking she won’t. Too much history.”
Her lips quiver. She’s quitting on us. She warned me about this.
Not directly, but she was clear about her feelings when it comes to long distance relationships.
But it doesn’t have to be long distance.
Not if she comes with me. She can have her own life.
Go back to school. I don’t need her in my apartment as badly as I want her there.
I just need her fewer than five hundred miles.
“What if your mom proves you wrong? I don’t mean that to sound so challenging, but what if? She might?” I lift a shoulder, but her sour expression makes me drop it again.
“You have to board soon. I promise I’ll watch the game. And I’ll wait up so you can call me as soon as you get back in. I’ll be rooting for you.” She throws her body into mine, wrapping her arms around me but burying her face. And as she pulls back, she turns to walk away.
“Wait a second, Renleigh. You aren’t leaving like that,” I say, reaching for her arm, my fingers brushing along the back of her elbow.
She stops after a few steps and buries her face in her hands, so I step in behind her and wrap her in my arms again, slowly turning her until she’s looking up at me.
“This doesn’t have to be a sad thing,” I say, cradling her face. My thumbs sweep her tears away.
“I don’t see how it can be happy, Hunter. It’s fine, though. We knew what this was. It was fun. I enjoyed being the Oklahoma side piece.”
I laugh at her dramatic words, but that only makes her eyes drop with more pain.
“No, Renleigh. Please don’t cry. You’re not a side piece. You’re the only piece. I mean my only piece. I mean . . . you aren’t a piece. Fuck, this isn’t coming out right.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, and she shakes with a single, sad sob.
“It’s okay, is all. If you can’t come back, or we don’t talk every night. You’re going to be busy, and I’ve got to figure out my life and what I’m going to do with my dad. I should be open to trusting my mom, but I simply can’t. Not yet. She’s let me down too many times.”
“I won’t let you down, though,” I say, breaking through her words and sweeping the tears from her cheeks again.
She blinks her eyes dry as they call my boarding group, her gaze shifting to the small line at the gate behind me. I shift my body to block the view, keeping her focus on me.
“I’ll call you the minute I land. And then again before bed. And in the morning. Say you’ll answer.” I stare into her eyes, my stomach twisting with so much doubt.
“Why are you working so hard to hold on to this?” she asks.
“To us. I’m holding on to us. Because I feel it in here,” I say, pressing my fist against my breastbone. “I’m young, Renleigh, but I’m not na?ve. I know what special feels like. And what we have is special. It deserves more time.”
She glances around again, and the attendant clearing her throat, waiting for me—the last passenger—to get my ass on the plane. I’m tempted to sit right here on the floor in protest, just to prove to Renleigh what lengths I’m willing to go to.
I wouldn’t give up my shot. That wouldn’t be healthy for either of us. But I don’t believe I have to. That either of us have to give up anything. We just need to be honest. And care about each other. That feels like the easiest thing in the world to do.
“I’ll answer the phone. I can do that, Hunter. And I’ll be watching you throw. Me and my dad. And my fucking mom, probably,” she says, a half-hearted laugh vibrating her voice.
“That’s enough,” I say, pulling her mouth to mine for one last kiss.
I hold up my phone as a visual reminder as I walk backward to the gate, not turning till the last second so I don’t miss any seconds of seeing her.
Once the attendant scans my boarding pass, I glance over my shoulder.
She’s walking away. I type out a text for her to read, hoping it will be before I take off so I’ll get anything she decides to text back.
ME: Would it help if I said I am falling in love with you?
I smile at my own words the moment they’re sent, and stare at my screen, waiting for any digital clue that she’s read them. But the only thing I get before takeoff is the little tag reading delivered.
For now, that will have to be enough.
***
The delivery notice changes to read by the time I land in Dallas, but there’s still no response from Renleigh. It was probably a pretty heavy confession to throw at her, but time was running out for us. if I don’t say it now, I’ll regret not taking the chance when I could.
I don’t prod her about my words while I wait for my checked bag. I simply send her a short note letting her know I landed. That message shifts to read, too, which feels somewhat lacking closure, but maybe she’s busy.
It’s evening in Sweetwater, and it will be sundown here in minutes.
I picture her arguing with her sister over how her dad should or shouldn’t get into his wheelchair, and the imagined bickering amuses me.
I don’t think Lindsey knows that Renleigh filled me in on her husband’s affair, and I wouldn’t break Renleigh’s trust by mentioning it without either of them inviting me to.
I think it sticks in Renleigh’s mind, though, and probably heightens her anxieties about relationships.
The team sent a pretty sick car to pick me up. I’ve never actually sat in a Bentley before, but now I can say I have. I’m not sure I’m dressed nice enough for it, though. I never went shopping for more suits, so I hope I can stretch the one I’ve got through two games until I have time to shop.
I pull my phone out, and there’s still no response from Renleigh. I decide to keep filling her in on my progress, and my thoughts.
ME: I need more suits. Maybe we can do some online shopping together tonight?
I send it and wait for the notice to shift to read just like the other times. It takes a minute or two, but eventually it does. And like before, she doesn’t send a response.
I tuck my phone into the side pocket of my leather travel bag and stare out the window at the passing subdivisions and full freeways as we weave our way toward Arlington.
The team has an apartment set up for me, fully furnished.
They have a few of them at a weekly-stay building near the stadium.
It’s for situations like mine, the last-minute call ups.
Sometimes there is more than one player bouncing between Sweetwater and here.
I hope I get to stay and find a more permanent address; maybe a condo for now. And one day, a dog.
I pull my phone back out and shoot another text to Renleigh.
ME: What are your thoughts on dogs? I’m not much of a cat person, but I could be persuaded if necessary.
I don’t bother to wait for her to read it before tucking my phone back inside my bag and continue my trek to my new job, in a city I don’t know, all alone. I should be terrified. I should be thrilled. Yet right now, I feel neither.
The driver pulls up to my building, and my agent, Shawn, is waiting for me in a car parked out front.
He approaches as I lift my bag out of the back and hand two twenties to my driver.
He pushes my hand away, though, explaining he’s on staff with the team.
I still feel as though he should get a tip.
I don’t want to be known as the cheap asshole, so I glance at Shawn for approval before reaching forward and tucking the money into the breast pocket on the driver’s jacket.
“Thank you, Mr. Reddick. That’s very kind,” he relents, covering the pocket with his palm and nodding once before rushing to the driver’s seat to head out for his next task.
“Okay, so here’s your key. And that car over there . . .” Shawn presses the lock button on a key fob and flashes the lights on a dark blue Honda Accord. “That’s yours for now. The team will get your truck up here for you—”
“Can I drive it myself?” I quirk a brow.
“Uh, I think they want you here. It’s a pretty strict schedule, a lot more rigorous than Triple-A ball, but . . .”
I continue to stare at my agent with wide eyes painted with hope.
He sighs and makes a note on his phone.
“I’ll ask,” he says.
I pat his shoulder.
“Thanks, Shawn. I appreciate it.”
I really want a reason to go back to Sweetwater.
I need this second chance to plead my case and talk Renleigh into coming with me.
I checked the schedule, and if I head back to Oklahoma after my arm care on Tuesday, I’ll have all day Wednesday to wear her down, then drive my ass back here for my bullpen session on Thursday morning.
“You need help with any of that?” Shawn glances at my checked bag and the small leather travel one dangling from my fist. I lift it like a kettle weight and smile.
“I can handle it,” I say.
“Okay, man. Wow! This is huge. I hope you know that.” He laughs nervously, probably because he knows if I’m up here for fifty innings of work, then his power of negotiation on my behalf gets a full season head start.
“Get ready to earn your keep,” I say, tremors of excitement tickling my belly. We grasp hands, then he pulls me in for a hug, slapping my back.
“I’ll work my ass off, Hunt. You do your job, and I’ll do mine.”
We slap hands and he heads back to his car as I make my way to the elevator to get to my new home for, well, probably a week. My phone buzzes in my bag, so I fumble the key to unlock my apartment while also grabbing for my phone. In all my scurrying, I answer, expecting it to be Renleigh.
“You’re a cat person, aren’t you?” I smile, proud of my easy banter in the face of telling her I’m falling for her.
“I am not. I’m a kid person. And the thought of adding a pet into my mix right now sounds terrifying.”
I deflate when my brain catches up. It’s Lindsey’s voice on the other line. I pull the phone away from my ear to verify the unknown number, then put her on speaker.
“Sorry, I thought—”
“I know,” she says. “And don’t worry. When you call later, she’ll answer. And if you tell her I called you, I will end you forever. Hear me?”
I swallow hard, then laugh.
“I hear you,” I confirm.
“Good. Now, I only have a second before she meets me on the porch for wine. I need to say a few things, and I simply need you to listen.”
“Shoot,” I say, picking up my phone and carrying it with me to the basic gray loveseat sitting in a very empty, very basic room.
“Our mom fucked my sister up good, and she doesn’t trust relationships because of it.
But she trusts you, Hunter. And that scares her.
If you’re really invested in this thing with her, I’m asking you to be patient.
And to not give up. Because I haven’t seen her open to the possibility of finding her person, well, ever. ”
I sit with her words for a beat, then utter, “I get it. And I am. I’m invested.”
“Good. Now, call her in an hour. Right now, my sister and I need a drink.” With that, she ends our call.