Chapter 12 #2
A smile formed on my lips. “I think I finally agree with something on the internet.”
“Rhys. I’m okay. It’s the end of the day. We took our last walk, and he was nowhere to be seen. Everything is fine. Marvin even said the coast is clear.”
“Would you tell me if everything wasn’t fine?” I asked.
It felt like a valid question. I’d done a lot to betray her trust over the past few months, and as much as it would hurt, I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer was no.
“Of course, I would.” The reassuring tone of her voice took a little bit of weight off my shoulders. “The romantic side of the relationship might be… fake. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a part of this now. And you’re my best friend. If there’s one person I’d want to tell, it’s you.”
I resisted the urge to rub at the pain that lanced through my chest. I genuinely don’t deserve someone like Sloane in my life. She’d given me more grace and more of her trust than I could ever be worthy of. “I’m glad. I just need you safe. That’s all.”
She smiled softly. “Well, as of right now, I am. So, quit worrying about me and worry about the damn curveball because Rhys… That was rough.”
“Alright. I’ve already gotten my ass handed to me; I get it. Trust me.”
Sloane laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Fine, fine. I’m done.”
We were both silent for a moment before she spoke up again.
“It’s late. I should probably let you go.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “Probably.”
“Call tomorrow?”
“If you want me to.”
She shrugged, her lips twisting to the side to hide a smile. “Wouldn’t complain.”
I narrowed my eyes at my best friend and then let out a playful gasp. “You miss me!”
Her cheeks flushed as she rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself, Armstrong. And get some rest. You’re bringing shame to the family. Rookie was shunned by multiple dogs on our walks today.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Goodnight, Sloane.”
She smiled widely, her big blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Goodnight, Rhys.”
Day Two
“So, it looks normal? Nothing to be concerned about?” Sloane’s voice came through garbled with static.
I shielded my eyes from the blaring sun and stared at the grainy pile of dog poop on the video call. “It looks… pixelated. Did he eat a TV by chance?”
She flipped the camera back over, her face filling the screen. “That was actually terrible. I’m gonna blame it on the elevation.”
I snorted and flipped my ball cap around, so the bill was shielding me from the sun, and lowered my hand. “It looks fine, Pip. Looks like dog poop. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually cared about Rook.”
“Ha!” She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t want to be responsible for his death. I already have too much on my plate.”
“Would you stop worrying about that? You’re not going to kill him.”
“You don’t know that! You guys were always the family with dogs. We had a fish when I was like five, and it died because Ryan peed in the tank!”
I let out a laugh, the memory of that day flashing through my mind.
The edges of the moment were blurry and aged poorly with time, but most of it was still intact.
A younger, more stressed-out version of Sloane’s mom, Angela, was dragging a pants-less seven-year-old Ryan from the table.
My older brother was always finding ways to get into trouble.
That much hasn’t changed, even with a wife and two kids.
My mom was mortified. She apologized profusely, begging Sloane’s parents to let her buy a new one, but I honestly think they were relieved they didn’t have to care for the poor thing anymore.
“Oh, god. That poor fish.”
“What was its name again?”
Sloane huffed out a breath, shaking her head as she tried to recall the name. “I think we all called it something different, honestly,” she said with a laugh.
There was a lull in the conversation, both of us walking to different destinations. It was weird. I thought I was used to the distance, but fuck. This was hard. It sucked. I missed her.
Her keys jingled as she pulled out her fob to walk into the apartment building. “Do you ever wear a shirt?”
I smirked, wiping away the sweat beading on my brow. “It’s almost a hundred degrees. I went for a jog. Next time you call, I’ll make sure I have a snowsuit on hand.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I really don’t think that’s too much to ask. You’re in Colorado, after all. There’s gotta be a snowsuit in the window of every corner shop.”
A small amount of relief swept through me when the apartment door shut behind her—another uneventful walk.
Before I could respond, she spoke up again. “Oh, hey. I’m going to dinner with Cam tomorrow night. We’re gonna watch the game from Sully’s. Just a heads up, so you’re not worrying about me.”
My lips tilted into a small smile. “I always worry about you, Pip. Say hi to Lou for me.”
The old bartender at Sully’s had been around for decades at this point. I knew Sloane was capable of taking care of herself, but I also knew he would take care of them should they need it.
“We’re getting in the elevator, so I’m gonna lose you. Can I call tomorrow after the game?” she asked.
“I would love that.”
Her smile melted into something adorably shy. “Have a good night, Rhys. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“You, too, Sloane. Tomorrow.”
We hung up, and I slid my phone back into my pocket, a wide grin on my face the entire four-mile jog back to the hotel.
Day Three
Sloane: It’s weirdly quiet here. I think you were right.
I smiled at my phone, immediately typing back a reply.
Me: Right about what?
Sloane: I think I might miss you.
Sloane: Your snoring was almost comforting. Rookie doesn’t snore nearly as loudly.
I bit back the enormous grin tugging at my lips.
Me: Miss you, too. Seven days.
Sloane: Seven days (:
“Who’s got you grinning like that, Lover Boy?” Alex, our center fielder, walked over to me, his metal cleats scraping against the concrete.
I shoved my phone into my bag before he could snatch it out of my hands. I resisted the urge to delve back into my teenage years and respond with something about his mom. Sloane would be proud. “Don’t worry about it.”
He tucked his glove under his arm, holding his hands up. “Hey, as long as your head’s in the game, I won’t.”
“Fuck off,” I deadpanned. “I’m in the game. Worry about your own.”
I knew he didn’t believe it. No one did. After a myriad of articles were sent through our team group chat, I knew they were all bracing for the game tonight.
Everyone thought Sloane was my good luck charm, which also meant they all thought we were screwed until we were back in Boston.
I refused to let them be right, though. I was ready to play tonight. My head was focused, and Sloane was with a friend. It was going to be a good night.
The soft, muffled sound of my phone buzzing caught my attention before I turned to head out to the field. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I pulled it out and couldn’t help but grin.
A picture of Sloane filled my screen, she and Cami sitting at the bar at Sully’s. She was wearing my jersey, her long hair curled and framing her face. Sloane gave the camera a thumbs-up while Cam opted for a peace sign.
Sloane: Kick ass tonight!
I put my phone back into my bag and didn’t even try to stifle the grin on my face. Tonight was going to be a good one. I could feel it.
***
Dom’s hand clapped down on my shoulder as he caught up to me. “Guess you figured your shit out, huh?”
I grinned, shaking my head. The high from the win was still coursing through my veins. “Guess so.” I hoisted my duffel higher on my shoulder, slapping his arm away when he tried jabbing his elbow into my side.
It was a good fucking game.
Ten strikeouts, one walk, and only allowed two runs.
We pulled off a win, Coach was happy, and I was happy.
Knowing Sloane was with someone instead of by herself took a weight off my shoulders, allowing me to focus on the game.
I wondered if she would let Cami stay with her until I got back. Probably not. But a guy could dream.
“You goin’ out tonight?” Dom asked, swiping at a few notifications on his phone.
“No.” I shook my head. “I think I’m done with those days.”
I was exhausted. Whether it was the travel, the elevation, or my worry about Sloane, I wasn’t sure. But I was ready for a real shower and a soft bed.
I’d done enough partying over the past year. Fake relationship or not, I was looking forward to my call with Sloane tonight, too.
Things felt like they were getting back to normal with us. Or at least it felt that way on my side of things. I could be around her without feeling like I was choking on air, and that was definitely a step in the right direction.
“Who are you and what have you done with Rhys?” Dominic laughed, fixing the cuff on his button-down.
“I’m partied out. Plus, both Sloane and Cami would kill me if I got arrested in a different state.”
He rolled his eyes. “Why are you saying that like there’s not a huge difference between coke and strippers and sitting at a hotel bar? There is such a thing as a happy medium.”
He had a point there.
Regardless, I had no interest in the hotel bar.
“I’m good. I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Alright, whatever you say.”
The ride back to the hotel was loud; the whole team was itching to go out, high on the win.
A bottle of vodka was being passed around, Coach turning a blind eye.
He didn’t normally give a fuck how we celebrated, as long as it was somewhat responsible.
I had obviously been lacking in that department.
When we all shuffled off the bus, half of the team split up. Some of them head straight to the bar, and the rest of us piled into the elevators to head up to our rooms.
Once I was showered, I plopped onto the bed and pulled out my phone, smiling when Sloane’s face filled the screen before I could call her.
“Hey, Pip. I was just—”
“Rhys.”
The whimper in her voice had me sitting up straight as my heart plummeted into my stomach. “What? What’s wrong?”