Chapter 28 Taylor
Grant’s mother’s birthday was yesterday, and I haven’t spoken to him since before the extravagant affair.
I’m trying not to let it get to me. Old habits die hard though, and if there’s one thing I know for certain, it’s that I’m still enemy number one in the Davenport camp.
And on top of that I’m still waiting to hear from Landon Crue on whether or not he wants to move forward after my pitch to him yesterday.
So I do what any rational woman would do in this situation—I overthink it to the ends of the earth and then call my brother to see if he’s heard from Grant. As far as I know, Josh is in New York this week too and likely meeting up with Grant at some point.
“Hey, little sis. To what do I owe the pleasure of an unscheduled phone call?” I can picture his goofy, lopsided grin on his face.
“Just thought I’d check in.” We haven’t talked since his text the other week about living with Grant.
He laughs and calls me out. “Bullshit. You don’t just check in, Taylor. What’s going on?”
“I hate you sometimes,” I grumble.
“Good, then I’m doing my job as a big brother.”
I smile at Josh’s teasing. “You are good at that. How’re mom and dad?”
“Missing you. You should come visit them sometime, Tay,” he says with the sternness only an older sibling can muster.
“I know, I know.” I sigh.
It’s been ages since I’ve been back home, and I’m not the best at keeping in touch with my family unless they call me, which they haven’t in a few weeks.
“I’ll give them a call soon and see when I can visit,” I assure him.
“That’s all I can ask.” He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Maybe I’ll surprise you and be there too.”
I sit up from my reclined position, surprised that he’s considering going back home. “What are you saying?”
He chuckles and I can picture him holding his hand up to temper my excitement. “Not saying anything yet. I don’t want to jinx it. What about you?”
“What about me?” Deciding I need another cup of coffee, I rise from the couch and make my way back to the kitchen, fumbling the coffee cup when he speaks again.
“Figured you’d be back in New York or Los Angeles already.” He keeps his tone even, but I can’t help but feel the accusation in his statement, especially after our texts.
Josh and I have always been close, which is why I find myself finally telling someone what’s been playing on my mind.
“Normally I would be, but being in one place for a while has settled me. I love being able to see my friends every day and not having to bounce from place to place all the time. Setting a true home base has been a game changer. I feel more productive and less like an outsider in my own circle.”
“You could never be an outsider. You’re too much of an attention whore for that.”
“You’re too much of an asshole for serious conversations,” I huff.
“You love me.”
“Whatever.”
“Are you ready to stop running then?” he asks seriously.
“I think I am.” I finally admit the words out loud. It feels . . . freeing.
“Does that mean you’re moving in with Grant permanently?”
“We haven’t talked about it. He’s in New York right now, that’s actually why I called.
I was wondering if you’ve heard from him in the last few days or if he’s said anything.
We kind of left things a little unsaid. I mean we’re potentially back together, but I don’t know, we have a lot to talk about when he gets home, but something feels off. ”
“No, I haven’t talked to him. We were going to meet for a drink earlier this week, but I got called away for work and then when I tried to reschedule he got cagey.”
“It was his mother’s birthday.”
“Oh, shit. There’s nothing good to come from a Constance Davenport birthday bash.”
“That’s what I was worried about.”
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t let it get to you. Things haven’t been as bad between them over the past few years. He knows how to manage his parents.”
“But what if they found out about us?”
“Just don’t jump to conclusions before you talk to him, okay?” Someone yells in the background from Josh’s end. “Shit, I’ve gotta go.”
“Be careful. Love you.”
“Love you, too. I’ll try to check in with him, okay? Don’t get in your head. There aren’t two people more perfect for each other than you and Grant.”
Knowing Josh has my back calms me down, but until I hear from Grant, I don’t think I’ll be able to take a deep breath.
Every muscle in my body is tense. Arizona has been playing the Troubadours close all series and things are bound to explode during tonight’s game if the pissed-off look on the guys’ faces are anything to go by.
I can’t hear what’s being said, but I know the visiting team is known for trash talk and escalating until fists are thrown.
Chase steps into the box in the bottom of the fifth inning.
Gabby bites her nails when he swings at a nasty slider.
Not normally a pitch Chase falls for, but the catcher is mouthing off to him while he’s getting into his stance.
I vaguely recognized the guy as one of the people with Chase in the beach bar on the island the night he met Gabby.
Chase hasn’t mentioned him, so I assume they aren’t really friends.
That thought is confirmed when Chase’s head whips around and he snaps at the catcher.
The catcher must say something else because Chase swings too early and fouls the ball.
Chase and the catcher go back and forth again and then the catcher looks back at Gabby sitting with me and Ivory.
He turns back to Chase, and we jump to our feet when Chase pushes the catcher back and yells in his face.
“What is happening?” I ask no one in particular.
“I have no idea, but this isn’t good.” Gabby clasps her hands under her chin. I wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her into my side. Ivory rubs Gabby’s back.
Chase’s bat falls to the dirt and the catcher tosses his mask off. Miller must hear what’s being said because he jumps between them and whispers in Chase’s ear.
The catcher keeps running his mouth. This time Miller spins around. Pure unadulterated anger on his face and I hear the words he shouts. “The fuck did you just say?”
“Oh shit,” Gabby breathes out.
I swallow, unable to process what we’re seeing. Everything slows around us. Miller shoves the catcher hard. The Arizona dugout leans forward, preparing to jump the half-wall. The catcher steps up into Miller’s space and says something else.
All at once, it’s like someone hit the fast-forward button. Chase surges forward. Miller blocks him with his left arm and delivers a knock-out punch to the catcher’s jaw with his right hand. The pitcher runs up on Chase. Benches clear and punches are thrown.
Shouts and curses intermingle until the fight is broken up. Preston drags Miller away from the circle. He looks back at us with a bloody lip. Chase seems to be unharmed, but everyone is wearing a matching deadly expression.
Mike gets in Miller and Chase’s faces and his shout carries to our seats halfway up the section. “The hell is wrong with you?” Neither of them respond as Mike shoves them to the dugout. The umpire ejects Chase and Miller, and Arizona’s pitcher and catcher.
The fans around us are screaming insults at Arizona, but the three of us drop back into our seats, stunned. Miller’s the most happy-go-lucky guy on the planet. For him to get mad enough to punch someone, it had to have been bad. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him mad.
“Have you ever seen Miller like that?” I ask Gabby. If he’d show anyone his angry side, it’d be her. They have a different level of trust and friendship than the rest of us.
“No, and that worries me.” She taps her phone on her leg, clearly wanting to talk to him and Chase but unsure what to do.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Ivory suggests and grips Gabby’s hand to pull her up out of her seat and up the stairs to the entrance that will lead us to the back staircase.
The attendant lets us through, and we step into the clubhouse hall. I pace the length of it while Ivory leans back against the cement wall.
“Chase isn’t answering me.” Gabby nibbles at her bottom lip, staring at her phone.
“Maybe he’s trying to calm down. Have you talked to Miller?”
“Yeah, talking to him now.” She types on her phone then lets out a gasp.
“What?” I spin around to face her.
“Nothing,” she keeps typing for a few minutes before looking up. “I’m going to go wait for Chase at his place.”
Ivory gives her a hug. “Okay, drive safe. Let us know if there’s anything we can do.”
I hug Gabby next. “I’ll watch Miller.”
“Thank you,” she nods into my shoulder.
“You good if I go back out there?” Ivory asks me when Gabby is out of sight.
“Of course. Go make sure no one else gets into trouble.” We go our separate ways, Ivory upstairs to our normal seats and me down the hall to the training room to check on Miller.
He’s sitting on a padded table facing away from the door when I walk in with his head hanging down.
“Hey, Rocky.”
He looks over his shoulder and gives me a big shit-eating grin, all teeth and exuberance. “I told G you’d come kiss it and make it better.”
Rolling my eyes, I cross the room and step between his open legs. I grip his chin and turn his head to look at the shiner on his cheek and his busted lip. “He got ya good.”
“You should see the other guy,” he winks then winces.
I pick up the ice bag beside his leg on the table and press it gently to his face. “What did he say to get you to punch him?”
“Couldn’t let the rookie have all the fun.”
“Mills.”
He sighs. “Called Gabby a whore. Asked if we share her.”
I’ve contemplated murder before, but this time I might actually do it. Painfully. Slowly. Excruciatingly.
“I’m gonna kill him.” I turn on my heel and head for the door. The visitor locker room is down the hall. I can make it there and back before the game finishes.
Miller’s arm wraps around my waist, lifting me off my feet and putting himself between me and the door. “Easy there, Rambo.”
“Let me go.” I try to wiggle out of his hold.
“I dropped him on his ass. He got the message.”
“The message could be clearer.”
“Can’t let you do that, Tay.”
“And why not?” I cross my arms and glare at him.
“You’re not made for prison life.”
“I’d survive.”
“Don’t think they’d let me have conjugal visits with you though, and that’d be a real shame.”
That breaks me out of my haze. A laugh bubbles out and I punch his shoulder. “You wish.”
He clutches where I punched. “Ow, I’m injured!”
Tossing an arm around my shoulders, he brings me in and kisses my temple. “You’re a good egg, Tay Bake. I’d want you in my corner any day.”
“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment and not like it was some epiphany you just had.” I pinch his side.
“Let’s get out of here. I’m starved, and since my bestie is waiting for her man, you can take her place.”
I give him a side eye. “I don’t know whether to be offended I’m not first choice or honored to step in for Gabby.”
“Eh, maybe a little of both.” He shrugs and leads us out of the training room and towards the exit.
I should text Grant and see if he saw the fight, provide some insight into how to preempt any media coverage, but I still haven’t heard from him and right now, hanging with Miller feels like the better option.