Chapter Seventeen
Bringing Cade to Slim Jim Batting will either be the best or worst decision I’ve ever made as an agent. Not because I’m worried about some big emotional pull that’ll drag us back together once we’re in our place.
It’s the fact that I didn’t tell Jimmy or Cade about my plan.
A flash of red darts past the window of my pseudo-office, and I watch as Cade parks and gets out of his car. Even with a multimillion-dollar signing bonus and a pro baseball salary, he still drives the minivan he got when he was sixteen.
From my desk, I lean forward to peer across the hallway into Jimmy’s office, where he’s reorganizing his desk drawers.
His uneasy energy has been bouncing off the walls all afternoon.
He scrubbed baseballs, mopped the concession areas twice, and hung new flyers in the neighborhood.
If I had to guess, the article about Cade screaming at Scott Butts in his morning newspaper set him off.
“Hey, Jimmy,” I call out. “Can you grab something from the front door for me?”
Tired eyes roll. “We’re the same distance from the door, Shaylene. Why don’t you get it?”
“I could, but it’s a special delivery for you.”
He leaps out of his seat. “A chocolate-covered-pineapple kind of special delivery?”
I grin. “Better.”
A disbelieving snort leaves his crooked nose, but the ring of keys attached to his belt jingles all the way to the front door.
It’s not until I hear a gasp and the heavy thuds of what I expect to be an overly aggressive hug that I make my way into the hallway.
Jimmy’s arms are wrapped tightly around Cade like a snake.
Still, Cade looks comfortable in his embrace.
Then without warning, Jimmy flips him around and puts him in a headlock. “Dammit, Owens! You almost gave an old man a heart attack.”
The lack of oxygen reddens Cade’s cheeks. “Blame her,” he gasps, pointing a finger at me until Jimmy releases him. Returning to full height, he rubs his neck. “She set us up.”
When both of their eyes land on me, I take a bow. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? All it took was one smart woman and two men incapable of communicating. I think I deserve to hear two magic words.”
“Thank you,” Cade sings, while Jimmy says, “Smart ass.”
It feels so good to be back together. After Cade left for California, my time with Jimmy was special, but with Cade here, it feels whole again.
“I can’t believe you still haven’t found anyone to lease out the spare office.” Just like the old days, Cade draws a smiley face in the dusty sign hanging in the window. “You’ve been looking for a tenant for years.”
“Must be the constant yelling from the batting cages keeping people away.”
“Customers?”
“Nope.” Jimmy ruffles my braids. “I’ve got a sports agent who comes in at all hours of the day and takes her anger out on the balls. Plus”—he gestures at my office—“she made herself comfortable. Can barely get her to go home these days.”
“I’ll return my key,” I threaten, but we both know I won’t. Jimmy will have to pry this key from my cold, dead hands.
“Don’t you dare.” Misty eyes fall to the pink binder tucked under my arm. “I’m guessing y’all are about to have a work meeting?”
I nod. “Yes, if that’s okay. I’ll lock up when we’re done.”
“Of course. This place is just as much y’all’s as it’s mine.” Jimmy turns to Cade and bows his head. “Don’t be a stranger. Okay?”
A mix of emotions flits over Cade’s face as he wraps Jimmy in one last hug before his old coach heads home. The professional part of me knows being alone with Cade is dumb because we’ll always be two people with history, but the personal part of me knows we need to be here at our place.
“Hi, Agent Shay.”
Our eyes meet. Although I see none of the sadness from last night, there’s no hiding it anymore. I know it exists now.
“Is that your substitute for Shay baby? It’s so not creative.”
“Sure is, unless you’re giving me permission to—”
“Nope,” I say quickly. “What did I say about calling me that?”
His lips slant into a smirk. “That I should feel lucky I’m able to speak your name at all.”
A grin breaks through my nerves. “I never said that.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Brushing off the mild flirting, I gesture for him to follow me into the building.
Slim Jim Batting got a makeover last summer, so Cade hasn’t seen any of the changes.
There’s new turf in every cage with clay batting mats.
A paint job spruced up the walls from mildew-gray to charcoal.
The rubber flooring is crack free with no bubbles.
Jimmy splurged on machines with adjustable pitching styles controlled by the tablet in each cage. We even have a softball machine now.
Cade gently caresses the painted version of himself on the wall. “He always said he wanted a mural of his favorite baseball players.” Continuing his perusal of the place, he chuckles. “Is this considered a work meeting if we’re playing baseball?”
I step into my favorite cage and tap the tablet. “We are here for work, Cade.” Regret floods me when he flinches. “No, I mean I’m here for work, but I’m also—”
His laugh is forgiving. “It’s okay. I get it.”
“No,” I sputter. “You’re my client, so I have a contractual obligation to work with you, and it’s hard to explain caring about my job versus caring about you, because I care about both.” Jeez, could I sound more unprofessional? “But I’m here for you. Nothing else.”
I tried to stop caring about Cade years ago. I now know it’s impossible.
“You’ve always been there for me.” He looks toward Jimmy’s office. “Even when I didn’t let you.”
I have no intention of diving into our past tonight, so I pull my helmet on and press start.
Spreading my legs, I settle into my stance.
With every click, I swing, knocking the ball into the net.
They chuck out in the same, steady rhythm as always, but it’s different today.
It could be the heavy gaze on my back or the simple fact that he’s here for the first time in years.
After the final ball, Cade claps until I turn around. “It’s like I never left.”
But you did, I think.
“Your turn.”
Cade stares down at the bat in his hands. “Why’d you bring me here?”
I don’t answer. “Do you really hate being the golden boy?”
His shoulders tense, and my mind starts playing whatever deflection he is preparing. Last night, I overreacted. I was tired. No need to worry about me. Okay?
Instead, he surprises me. “I really do. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Being on the field made me feel like nothing else in the world. I looked forward to every practice and game, even if it ended in a loss. I was happy.”
Was.
“How long have you been unhappy?”
The veins in his hand pop as he grips the bat.
“I don’t know exactly. I woke up one day and didn’t feel like me anymore.
Most people don’t even call me Cade now.
I’m the golden boy or nothing to them.” He digs his toe into the turf.
“But I also don’t know how to move away from it. I don’t know how to—”
“Just be,” I finish for him, repeating my sentiment from the player development meeting.
“Just be.”
“Seeing all those headlines must be tough.” I wince. “Do you regret what you said to Scott?”
There’s a crazed look in his eyes when they meet mine.
“Not one bit,” he says, emphasizing each word.
“For the first time in years, I didn’t care about the fact that I could end up on the bad side of the media, and I didn’t care about being the golden boy.
You were the only thing that mattered. Not my image or baseball. You.”
“Me?” My heart leaps into my throat. I can’t wrap my head around this. “Cade—”
“I know I’m breaking rule number two, but I have to say this.
Please let me say this.” His stare is unyielding, and because he let me break rule three after filming, I allow it.
“I had you, Shay, and it was easily the best thing to happen to me. I’m sorry for so many things.
For not coming home and making you mine.
For not talking to you, even though you gave me every opportunity to.
For forcing you to be my agent. Working with you for the last month has been the lightest I’ve felt in years.
Possibly ever. But I was scared to tell you the truth. So I ran.”
Part of me hoped to never learn why he didn’t choose me. But now I can’t help but ask.
“Why were you scared?”
Propping his bat against the gate, he steps closer. “Because it’s a privilege to play baseball and be loved by all. I didn’t want you to see me unhappy about something people would give anything for. That’s not who I’m supposed to be. I’m supposed to be golden. Not struggling.”
If there weren’t a gate between us, I’m sure I’d break rule number five and touch him, but I can’t, for a multitude of reasons.
I take the next best option and press my hand against the cool gate. The faint clang from my class ring gets his attention. Slowly, he lifts his hand to meet mine. Even with the metal between us, his warmth can be felt. It’s a loophole, but I ignore that.
“All I wanted was for you to be you.”
“I know,” he breathes, mint sharpening my senses. “You saw me for Cade. Not the golden boy or whoever people wanted me to be. And I think I’ve always known that, but at that time, I was too lost to see what was right in front of me.”
The end of us truly was that simple. Each problem was like a raindrop. One on its own wasn’t a big deal, easily brushed away. Something he likely assumed he could push through. But when the storm came day after day, the harmless drops became an overwhelming flood.
And eventually, the dam broke.
“You fought harder than I deserved,” he continues. “I pushed you away until you had no choice but to give up, and that’s never been your fault. But you were never far away.”
Before I can ask for clarification, he pulls something from his pocket with his free hand.
In his palm sit two dice. My dice.
When my parents divorced, I was hurt. When my dad accepted a job in Philadelphia, I was gutted.
The two of us were connected at the hip, and he was moving across the country.
Our last night in his apartment was spent eating pizza out of old Frisbees.
It was then that he pulled out his lucky dice and placed them in my palm.
“No matter where we go, look at these, and we’ll always be together.”
Cade knew that when I slipped them into his pocket the night he left for California.
“You kept them?”
“Of course I did.” He traces the edges of the smooth plastic. “They go everywhere with me. Every game, meeting, practice, trip. I’m not sure I would’ve survived without them.” Our gazes lock. “Without you.”
The thought of Cade carrying my dice after we split shocks me to my core. He didn’t just keep them.
He kept me.
“I don’t know what to say, Cade. Professionally speaking—”
“I know,” he stops me. “You don’t have to say a word. I just wanted to tell you the truth. Now, diagnose me with your special agent powers and tell me how to fix my whole life.”
A brittle laugh escapes me as I drop my hand. “Can’t promise you that, but I have two questions.” I step away from the gate. “Number one. What do you want from life?”
His nose scrunches adorably. “Life?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Screw what everyone else wants. What do you want?”
He thinks for a moment. “I just want to be Cade.”
“Does that include baseball?”
A pause. “I don’t know.”
“And that’s okay,” I say. “Question two. What’s something you want to do for yourself?”
This answer is immediate. “Finish my degree,” he says, and I smile. That’s something I can help with. “Wait,” he continues. “You don’t care that I’m not sure about baseball? Shouldn’t you tell me how much of a mistake quitting would be, and how I’ll ruin my image?”
“I don’t care about your image, Cade. I care about you.
” Swinging my bat over my shoulder, I shrug.
“Your career is yours, and I’m here to support whatever decisions you make.
Because I knew you, I do want you remember why you loved baseball.
That spark in your eyes is special, and I’d hate to see you lose it forever. ”
Cade loved baseball, and not because he was good. At one point, it made him happy.
After a moment, he grabs the bat. “Okay. What’s step one?”
“This.” I wave my hands around. “Doing things that make you happy, like being here and hitting balls.”
Clear, intentional eyes meet mine, and his lips tilt. “Maybe I was happy here because I got to be with you. Did you ever think about that?”
I press four fingers against the gate. “Rule four, Cade. No flirting.”
His laugh breaks out, sharp and unguarded, filling the cages with a joy so familiar, it aches. I still know that sound better than my own heartbeat, and I love it just as much.
“Whatever you say, Agent Shay.” Pointing his bat at me, he taps the cage—aimed right at my heart. “You don’t have to say it, but I think deep down, you know you’re happy with me too.”
My lips stay sealed, but he’s right.
And his laugh says he knows it.