chapter 66
“Good news,” the voice rang through Chase’s headphones, and he paused the treadmill, slowing to a walk, his heart beating hard.
“What?”
“Yankees want you back.”
“What?” His hand jabbed the emergency stop, and he stepped off the end, ripping the earbuds from his head and lifting the phone to his ear. “Are you fucking with me?”
There was a long pause. “I thought you’d be happy,” Floyd said cautiously.
“I’m not. You told me four years ago, very clearly, that I was—and this is a direct quote—‘dead to them.’”
“I thought you were.”
“I don’t want to go to the Yankees.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long, controlled breath.
“Are you serious? Stop holding a grudge and get excited about this. Remember when you were in LA, and obsessed with playing for them?”
He closed his eyes tightly. “Tell me it’s not fucking done. Tell me that, Floyd.”
Another long pause. “You don’t have a no-trades clause. You knew that. Back then, when we signed the contract, you were so fucked up, Chase. We were lucky to get you any kind of contract.”
“Tell. Me,” he gritted out. “That. It’s.
Not. Done.” He crouched, the hotel gym too small, the room closing in on him.
He couldn’t do it. He could barely survive four hours in that city, much less move back there.
Put on her husband’s uniform. Walk back into the world where they fell in love.
What would happen when he saw her? Every emotion that he’d tried to bury, every piece that he’d tried to forget … it would all come back.
“It’s done. They want you there tomorrow for the Red Sox game.” All the excitement was out of his agent’s voice, the words dead in their delivery.
“I can’t,” he said. “You gotta get me out of this, Floyd. You have to.”
“There’s nothing I can do.” The man sighed. “I’m sorry.”
Chase ended the call and sank to the floor, leaning against the gym’s rubber wall, his mind trying to work through its knots.
New York. Tomorrow. He needed more time to prepare. But a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. He’d never be ready to face her again. Not without pulling her into his arms. Not without refusing to ever let her go.