Chapter 20
Tenny
In an attempt to not dwell on my situation without Rhett as a sounding board, I rush through my shower and arrive at the cozy seaside diner twenty minutes early.
A frigid blast of air cuts through my hoodie and jeans as I yank on the front door.
There’s hardly anyone in the quaint restaurant, probably because the ominous gray-black clouds are scaring patrons away.
In my mental haze, I forgot my phone, so I can’t check to see when the sky will open up.
After murmuring a hello to the young hostess, I ask for the back corner booth.
“I’m sorry. I just sat someone there,” she tells me as the phone rings on her host stand. “Just pick whichever table you like.”
As she answers the phone, I trudge toward the recesses of the restaurant. I’m not really in the mood to be recognized today, and unfortunately, I forgot my hat. Best to stay as close to the kitchen—and the back exit—as possible.
My heart lurches into my throat when I find a familiar blonde head bowed over a menu at my table. For half a second, I want to turn and sprint to the front door like I’m legging out a double and the outfielder’s arm is a missile. Then a smoldering heat burns behind my breastbone.
Alex can make me look like a heartless womanizer by throwing my failed dating history in my face, but she can’t smear my name on national television and then also steal my table.
“What are you doing here?”
Alex glances up, her mouth popping open in surprise before all her features harden. I used to love the way her brown eyes narrowed, but now her glare only ignites indignation. She pulls her oversized cardigan tighter around herself like a shield.
“What’s it look like?”
I lean over, pressing my palms into the sturdy hardwood. “It looks like you’re stealing my favorite table.”
Alex rolls her eyes before fixing them on the menu. “Not now, Tenny. I’m having a bad day.”
“You’re having a bad day?” I scoff. “What about me?”
“Did your favorite bed warmer bail on you?” She tilts her head with a fake pout. “Too bad.”
My forehead wrinkles. What the heck does that mean?
“Look,” I say, deciding to blow past her remark. “All I want is to eat soup in peace.”
She folds her hands primly on the tabletop. “All I want is to never talk to you again, yet here you are.”
A breath punches from me at the venom infused in her words. The ache I’d been carrying around since watching her segment spikes into dozens of needles, jabbing into my muscles.
Alex’s gaze traces my face, her lips and shoulders softening in what might be regret before she tucks it away like a loose strand of hair.
“Leave.” Her command hits me like a bat to the chest, but I don’t let it show this time.
My fingertips flex on the table. “I have just as much right to be here as you.”
“Fine. I’ll leave.”
When Alex surges to her feet, I straighten.
“Fine,” I say, not realizing that I’m essentially blocking her against the back wall of the restaurant.
Her chest nearly bumps mine as she takes a deep breath.
I should be furious. I should step back so she can walk out the door and my life, but all I can think about is how Alex has never looked more beautiful.
Her cheeks are flushed, there’s mascara smudged below her eyes, her mussed hair is loosely pulled back in a claw clip, and…
and all I want is to cradle her head in my palm and kiss her.
What is wrong with me?
I command myself to move, to back up, to give us both some much-needed space, but my feet remain stubbornly rooted.
“Why?”
It takes me a second to realize the broken question came from my lips.
“Don’t.” Alex closes her eyes as she shakes her head.
With her lashes fanned on her cheeks, I let my gaze take a quick sweeping pass of her features. Then I turn and stride out of the restaurant, straight into the sheeting rain.
It’s nearly impossible to see as I march toward the ocean, but I’m glad for it. I’m grateful for the biting cold and the icy water sluicing down my spine and into my shoes. Anything is better than the hollow sensation between my ribs.
This one time I’d thought I’d done it right. I hadn’t been Too much. Or rather, I had—in bits and spurts—but Alex seemed to find my personality entertaining…charming, even? She never balked at off-topic conversation, or random gifts, or my constant need to talk to her before and after games.
My teeth grind together as I leave the boardwalk and descend the short cement staircase to the rain-matted sand.
I’ve never been on the beach while it’s rained before, which seems like a missed opportunity since my house is only two miles north of here.
It’s oddly cleansing, even though the rain is near freezing.
Maybe I’ll walk home. I’d driven to the restaurant because of the pending storm, but I often run the shoreline in the mornings to get the lead out from the previous night’s game. Rhett will understand, once he sees Alex in our booth, why I’m not there, and I’ll call him once I get back to my house.
Mind made up, I head north.
“What are you doing?” a familiar voice calls over the whipping wind.
I glance over my shoulder, jaw tightening. “I thought you never wanted to talk to me again?”
Alex throws her hands up. “Apparently, I’m a walking contradiction.”
I turn, taking the largest strides I can. Since I’m tall, they eat up the beach. Not surprisingly, Alex easily keeps step.
“‘Date a tall girl,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun,’ they said.”
When I start to jog, so does Alex, keeping a half step behind.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know!”
We jog for a moment before she says, “You seemed…”
I stop, not wanting her to finish that sentence, not wanting her to point out how completely pitiful I am.
Alex wraps herself in her sodden cardigan, her damp hair whipping around her face, the clip long gone. “I’ll still need to interview you occasionally. We need to sort out some kind of professional rapport.”
“Maybe so, but not today.” I stalk farther down the beach, but Alex only follows.
An aggravated growl leaves my lips before I make a swift turn toward the water. It’s heartless, but this is the one place Alex won’t follow me.
“Tenny, wait,” she says, immediately understanding my evasion technique. “Wait. Don’t—”
Forcing myself to ignore the rising panic in her voice, I charge into the thrashing waves.
The water reaches my thighs before I feel Alex’s frozen fingers fisting the back of my sweatshirt. Instantly, I flip around, caging her in my arms so the next wave won’t knock her down.
“What are you doing?”
“I— I don’t—” Her words fall away, her teeth chattering.
A wave hits my back, pushing me closer to her, and Alex’s fingers splay across my chest, her eyes wide with fear.
When I try to walk us toward the shore, she digs in, her hands bracing my upper arms as her legs go rigid.
The sensible thing would be to leave the water, but it’s clear that fear has taken over Alex’s mind.
“Breathe.” I dip my head, trying to shield her face with mine.
Alex’s gaze bounces everywhere—the sky, the crashing waves, on her nails biting into the fabric of my hoodie—as her chaotic breaths get shorter and shorter.
I band one arm tightly around her, using my free hand to grip her jaw. “Eyes on me.”
When her panicked gaze locks on mine, I soothe her cheek with my thumb. “Good. Now, breathe for me.”
Alex takes a shaky inhale, and I move my palm to shield her face from the rain.
“Keep going. Nice and slow.”
After several rounds, her fingers loosen their death grip, and her shoulders fall away from her ears.
“I’m in the ocean,” she whispers, her words wonder-filled.
Despite the circumstances, despite the fact that I have every right to be angry, a smile curves my mouth. “I know.”
When her fingers tighten as another wave hits me, I run my hand along her spine. “I’ve got you.”
Alex nods, not breaking eye contact.
“I never thought I’d do this again,” she says after a long moment.
Only then does she look down at the water rushing around our soaked jeans.
The first laugh is nothing more than a hiccup of a sound, followed by a low chuckle.
Then a wild smile overtakes her face as she glances up at me.
I’m helpless to do anything but grin back at her, my heartbeat hammering in my throat.
When Alex tilts her head back, her messy hair dripping with rain drops as she laughs into the rain, my breath shudders.
Please stop making me fall in love with you.
Alex looks so much like that carefree girl I bantered with years ago while simultaneously the present-day version I can’t stop thinking about. Standing this close is suddenly more painful than striking out with the bases loaded.
“We should get out of the water,” I tell her, my voice low and tight.
Alex doesn’t seem to notice my distress as our soaked shoes trudge their way back to shore. Once we’re beyond the waves’ reach, I put several feet between us. Alex takes one step on her own before her knees buckle. She hits the packed sand before I can catch her.
“I don’t understand why—”
“It’s the adrenaline crash. You’re going to be shaky for a while.” A ragged sigh escapes me. “I’ll help you.”
I could carry Alex against my chest, but with her nerves finally settling, my irritation feels like it’s mounting.
I’m not going to leave Alex soaked and freezing on the beach, but I’m not going to be nice about carrying her back to her car either.
I help Alex up and then stoop, tossing her over my shoulder like a sack of mulch.
“Tenny, what are you—” She pounds on my back, though not hard enough to hurt. “Put me down. This is ridiculous.”
“Don’t I know it.”
I march toward the restaurant, craving a hot shower and wondering how I’m supposed to survive the rest of the season when I can’t seem to get away from Alex.