Chapter Thirty-Four
Taylor
When Todd’s alarm goes off the next morning, I assume he’s planning to hit the gym before class, so when I stumble out of his room a few hours later, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Chase says, standing at my breakfast bar and drinking my coffee.
“Morning . . .” I rub my eyes, approaching him and Todd. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d come for a visit—to root you on this weekend.”
“How’d you get here?” I ask, pouring myself some coffee.
“I picked him up from the airport,” Todd replies.
I turn to him. “You knew he was coming?”
Todd opens his mouth, but it’s Chase who ultimately says, “I just sprung it on him yesterday—what, are you not happy to see me?”
“I am . . . it’s just . . .” Just what? How was I supposed to tell him that the apartment’s a bit crowded since Emma’s here when I can’t tell him why she’s here?
Before I’m able to come up with something, Emma shuffles out of my bedroom. Her eyes widen when she sees Chase, but he maintains the neutral expression he’s had since I walked into the kitchen.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” he asks her.
“I . . . well . . .” Her eyes ping-pong between us before finally landing on me. “You told him?”
“No!” I reply.
But at the same time Chase asks, “Tell me what?”
“I . . . uh . . . have to get to class.” Todd backs away from the brewing argument. “I’ll see you all later.”
Chase turns back to Emma once the door closes behind him. “Tell me what?”
She sighs and pulls up a stool. “I’m pregnant and I don’t know who the father is.”
“How can you not know?”
“I had sex with two guys.”
Chase’s eyebrows fly up his head. “At the same time?”
“No!” She covers her face with her hands. “I was with Tony before I was with Jacob.”
“And what are you doing to figure this out?” He looks around the apartment. “It looks to me like you’re just hiding out here, waiting for it to all blow over, but it’s not going to—this is your life now. You need to accept it, grow up, and decide what you’re going to do next.”
He whips around to face me. “And you.”
“What about me?” I ask, raising my hands defensively.
“The job with the Rangers?”
“How do you—”
“Todd told me—he thought I knew!” He purses his lips. “Tell me why you would turn down the job when it’s everything you’ve worked for?”
“‘Cause Emma needs me!”
“Hey! Don’t blame me!” She glares at me before refocusing on Chase. “While you’re at it, why don’t you lay into her about sleeping with Todd?”
He blinks rapidly. “What?”
I flush. “We’re just friends.”
“Right, they’re just practicing,” she says with air quotes. “They’re basically in a friends-with-benefits relationship.”
“Is that why you don’t want to take the Rangers job? Because you want to follow Todd wherever he goes?”
“No! I really just want to help Emma.”
“What about Mom?”
I roll my eyes. “Mom can’t take care of herself, let alone Emma—or a baby for that matter. She was arrested Monday night—drunk and disorderly.”
“What? It just keeps getting worse . . .” he says more to himself than anyone else, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right, it’s time to call Dad.”
“No!” Emma and I say at the same time.
“I know you guys don’t want to hear it, but he’s the only one who can ease the burden for both of you. He’s not a bad guy—you used to really love him.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “That was before I started hating him.”
“I’ll call him—fill him in on what’s been going on. In the meantime, I’m taking charge.” He turns to me. “You’re going to call the Rangers and undo whatever you did . . .” He looks at Emma. “And you’re going to look for doctors and schedule an appointment.”
“So I’m just supposed to accept the first job that’s offered to me?”
“No, if you want to start applying for other jobs, that’s your prerogative—what I’m not going to let you do is self-sabotage your future because you’re scared.” He nods curtly. “Any other questions?”
“I’m going to the batting cages,” I say, pushing past him to get dressed.
The metallic tang of the cage’s air clears my head faster than coffee ever could—not that I won’t be stopping for another cup once I’m done here.
Each pitch slams into the padded canvas of the netting with a thwack that dulls the family static in my brain, and for a while there is only the rhythm, my own heartbeat, and the little blur of ball meeting bat, again and again.
When I finally pause to catch my breath, I realize I’m being watched.
“It’s really too bad you’re not a guy.” Adam leans against the chain-link fence, arms crossed, a lazy half-smile on his face. “My agent could probably find a dozen teams that would drool over seeing you bat like that.”
He shakes his head, blinking. “Sorry—I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Yeah, you did, but it’s okay.” I take off my helmet and tuck it under my arm. “I’ve thought the same thing myself on occasion. What are you doing here? I thought you were off today.”
“I was going to work on my pitches,” Adam replies. “My breaking ball still needs work . . . My agent says he can get me a better contract if I master it.”
I nod, my eyes drifting upward. “Why don’t you practice on me? I need to bat, you need to pitch—it’s a win-win.”
“It doesn’t look like you need practice batting.”
“I don’t need practice.” I readjust my gloves. “I need a distraction.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just talk about whatever’s bothering you?”
“I don’t talk—I bat.” My head falls to the side. “So are you in or out?”
“I’m in.”