Chapter 7
Ever since Omaha, I couldn’t get Sommer out of my mind. That wasn’t the actual truth. I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind since we met. Oddly, I hadn’t seen her since our return to Utah. When she said we could be friends, a weight that I hadn’t known resided on my chest had lifted. And now, all I could think about was her. Every time I closed my eyes, her face would appear, almost teasing me in the most tempting way. I could still feel the soft brush of her hand against mine as we’d shaken on our friendship. It was a simple, everyday gesture, yet it had sent a shiver skating down my spine.
Why? I had absolutely no idea.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and when I pulled it out, a text sat on my screen.
Miss Bennett: The Wesley Foundation Gala is next Saturday night. I think you should attend.
Realizing I hadn’t changed her name in my phone, I quickly rectified that before replying.
Me: That’s a work night. We have a game the next day. Not sure if that is a good idea.
Sommer: It’s just an appearance. You show up, shake a few hands, make a donation, and leave. It will be good for your image.
Me: Will you be there?
Sommer: Of course.
Me: Then it’s a date.
Sommer: No, it’s not.
Me: Send me the information.
The details appeared on my screen.
Me: I’ll pick you up at seven.
Sommer: I’ll meet you there.
Fed up with this text exchange, I called her.
“Hey,” she said.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Tonight? Since it’s Tuesday, not a lot.”
“Good. Dinner is on me. Chinese, Italian, or pizza?” When she paused, I added, “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you. Why don’t you come to my place? This way, you can leave when you want to. It will save you the time of kicking me out.”
She laughed and I instantly smiled. “I’m not sure if I can make it.”
I had a feeling she’d say that, so I decided to make it so her curiosity would compel her to agree. “I need to talk to you about something important.”
Her voice softened. “Oh no. What happened? Is everything okay? Hold on, let me check the sites.”
Appreciating her concern, I appeased her worry. “You can relax, and there’s no need to check social media. Everything is fine. Can you please try to trust me and do me this one solid?”
The few seconds she took to decide had me almost ready to plead my case, but thankfully, she agreed. “Okay, would you like me to pick up the food on the way over?”
“No, thank you. I’ve got it handled. Any allergies? I never asked you when we had lunch that day.”
“Mushrooms and tree nuts.”
Since I wasn’t sure what varieties were included in that wide description, I told her that I’d grab a pizza.
“Sounds good. I’m more of a meat lover than a veggie.”
“Good to know. Come over around six? Gate code is six-nine-six-nine.”
“Of course it is. Bye, Jimmy.”
I chuckled and hung up.
After I did a quick survey of my house, I straightened a bit. Contrary to what some people may think about ballplayers or people with money, I didn’t have a housekeeper, nor did I need one. Ever since I was a young kid, I’d been tidy. Well, that was what my grandmother told me. Naturally, my mother would find a stray sock or empty water bottle left behind, but no one could ever accuse me of being a slob. In college, my roommates would tease me about it, but the girls appreciated it, so the joke was on my stupid buddies.
Once our food was delivered, I tossed it in the oven on low to keep warm, took a quick shower, and changed out of my workout clothes and into jeans and a T-shirt. Not knowing what Sommer would want to drink, I decided to open a bottle of red wine.
My gate app alerted me that someone had arrived. I waited for the bell to ring before I pulled open the door. As it opened, her pretty green eyes met mine. Fuck, she was beautiful. Loose waves of chestnut hair hung over her shoulders, and those plump lips that unknowingly beckoned me to taste them curled up into a smile.
“Hi, Jimmy.”
“Hi ... Sommer.” It had been the first time I’d called her by her first name, and I loved the sound of it. “Come on in.”
“Nice house.”
“Thanks. It was my father’s when he lived here. He rented it out to a friend of his, but Cal has since moved to Virginia. Knowing I’d be coming here after college, he hung on to it for me.” She nodded, and I realized I just rambled. God, why did this woman make me nervous?
“Smart man. It’s really nice. I love the warm cottage feel.”
“Thank you, I did some modifications after I moved in. Made it more mine.”
“You did a great job. You studied architecture, right? Did that include interior design?”
We walked farther into the home. Sommer glanced around before stopping in my family room. She wasn’t wrong—it did have a cottage feel. Warm white walls and muted gray and blue hues brought out a bit of color, but for the most part, it was neutral. Including the reclaimed wood flooring, it was the one thing I’d decided to change.
“For me, it did. When I created a home or a building, having an idea of the aesthetics helped me.” I shrugged. “I figured if the baseball career didn’t pan out, then I’d have something to fall back on. And if I could offer both aspects of design—outside and inside—it would help my business model.”
Sommer studied me for a moment. “You didn’t think you’d have a career in baseball? You yourself said how good you are.”
“That doesn’t always matter, right? Let’s not forget my dad got hurt. Granted, everything happens for a reason, or I might not be sitting here, but it was a devastating blow to his career. Then there’s all this social media bullshit and people jawing that I might get sent down to Tulsa.”
Sommer looked at her feet.
“Hey, I’m not saying that because you’re standing in front of me. You asked a question, and I’m answering it. Plus, I can’t play forever, right? Then I’ll start my architectural firm.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true. It’s good to have a plan.”
Realizing I’d just shared things with her I’d never voiced out loud to anyone but my mother, who incessantly worried about me, I gave her a tight smile and changed the subject. “Can I get you something to drink? I wasn’t sure what you liked. I opened a bottle of red wine. And we can eat anytime. The pizza is in the oven on warm.”
“Red wine is fine, and I can wait a little bit. I’m eager to know what was so urgent that you couldn’t talk to me about it over the phone.”
I poured us each a glass of cabernet, walked back into the living room, and handed her a glass. “Let’s sit down and talk.”
“Oh, this sounds serious.”
“It is, but not what you’re probably thinking. Here’s the thing, I realized something the other night when we agreed to be friends.”
“What’s that?”
All day, I’d known what I wanted to say to her. But now that she was in front of me, I knew I needed to tread lightly. If there was one thing about Sommer Bennett, it was that she stood her ground in more ways than one.
“It’s like this ... I haven’t asked or been asked to be someone’s friend since I was in kindergarten.”
She let out a quick laugh. “Are you taking the request back? Do you not want to be friends?”
“No, I do, but I realized I don’t know anything about you. And the only things you know about me are my stats, what I just told you about my architecture plans, and previous extracurricular activities. Yes, there are other things you might know from interviews that I’ve done, but I’d rather you hear things from me and vice versa. Anyone else I call a friend happened organically. Even my teammates over the years. We’d have something compatible and go from there. But you were so adamant about not being my friend that we didn’t have that chance. I almost feel like I bullied you into it. It’s been bugging me, is all.”
Sommer studied me for a minute and took a sip of her wine. “You didn’t bully me. I could have said no. The thing is, you were right.” When I smirked, she added, “Don’t let that go to your head.”
“I promise I won’t. But I might mention it here and there so you don’t forget.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. So what is it that you want to know about me?”
“Everything.” She laughed and I realized I’d said that out loud. “I want to know what your favorite movie is, what type of music you like, your favorite type of food. What irritates you ... besides me. Things that friends would know. Do you like dogs or cats? And I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“Like twenty questions?” Sommer took a another sip of her wine. “That is why you had to see me? Because you want to know if I like dogs or cats?”
I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to explain without sounding like a douchebag. “At Barney’s, you said that I couldn’t be friends with women. Which is a false statement. However, to your point, I don’t know a lot of women long enough to get to know them.”
“Outside of the bedroom?”
“I don’t sleep around as much as you think I do.” When her eyebrows shot upward, I confessed, “I haven’t had sex since before the break.”
“So, since I took over as your PR rep?”
“More like since I met you. No one has appealed to me.”
A slight blush filled her cheeks. “That’s admirable, but remember, we’re friends, that’s it.”
On a nod, I grinned. “How could I forget? Now, back to the task at hand. Getting to know each other. Although I prefer to do this organically, let’s start off with an easy one. What is your favorite music genre?”
“Thrash metal.” When I blinked at her, she giggled. “Just kidding. I listen to country music mostly. I like the lyrics. They tell a story. What about you? Wait, let me guess ...” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Heavy metal?”
“No, I don’t actually have a favorite. I do listen to classical or big band music when I work out and run.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not at all.” I grabbed my phone, tapped my music app, and showed her my playlist.
“Wow. Tchaikovsky, Perlman, Bach, and Glenn Miller. Interesting.”
“I told you that you don’t really know me.” We stared at each other for a moment. “Tell me, Sommer, what is one thing about you that would surprise me?”
She stared at me for a few long beats. “I don’t know. I’m not very exciting.”
“Somehow, I find that unbelievable. Have you ever dated a younger man?” I wasn’t even sure why I asked except for wanting to know if there were any other barriers between us. That one I couldn’t do anything about.
“No, I haven’t. Another reason we’ll only ever be friends.”
“You’re only three years older.”
“That’s ten in girl years.”
I laughed. “Okay, touché. Guys can be a bit immature, but I’m not all guys. For years, when I was younger, I was the man of the house. Mom never wanted me to feel that way, but it was an instinctual result of growing up without a father.”
“Their romance and finding out who your father was is an incredible story. One that you don’t talk about too much. After I heard about it, because, of course, I knew your dad from when he played for the team, I thought for sure his son would take his last name. I was a senior in high school, and I remember people speculating. Especially here in Utah.”
“I thought about it but decided against it. My dad was my childhood hero. I’d looked up to Cash Jameson for years. Finding out he was my father didn’t change that, but it changed me a little bit.”
“In what way?”
“I worked harder.”
“You wanted to make it on your own, without his name opening doors.”
“Exactly. It’s like what you’re doing now.”
“It’s actually the opposite. I grew up in my granddad’s office. At ten years old, I could tell you stats of players, including hot college prospects. All I’ve ever wanted was to run the organization. I busted my ass in school, and because I’m a Bennett, I need to prove myself.”
I knew that, but hearing her say it again, with a hint of sadness in her eyes, made me feel a little bad for her. “If it means anything, I think that you’re very smart and will get to where you want to go in the organization. And it really isn’t the opposite. Just because Jameson isn’t my last name, people know my father isn’t the one on the mound. I am. He’s not the one at the plate. I am. Like I said, I work harder.” An unavoidable smile spread across my face. “Well, what do you know? It looks like we have something in common after all.”
A short stretch of silence was interrupted by a growling stomach ... and not mine. Her hand immediately covered the unsuspecting intrusion. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten much today.”
“Well, knowing how you need sustenance, let me grab our pizza.”
While we ate, we talked about our favorite and least favorite movies. Thankfully, we agreed on everything except sci-fi movies. She loved them. I didn’t. We both loved comedies, including a few sitcoms, but what shocked me the most was her love of reality TV.
I wiped my hands on a napkin before taking a sip of my drink. “Doesn’t your public relations part of your brain go into overdrive when you watch those shows?”
“One thousand percent.”
I couldn’t help but admit, “In comparison, my life is a cakewalk to some of those train wrecks.”
“I’ll be honest. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be. But that could just be because I’m around.”
“Do you honestly think that?”
Sommer studied me for a bit before finally shaking her head. “No. I think that you may have learned your lesson.”
“Or maybe I’m only interested in one woman.”
She leaned forward and put her wineglass on the coffee table. “Jimmy ...”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But since we’re being honest, I will say that you are the most gorgeous friend I’ve ever had. And if you tell Remington that, I’ll deny every word.”
Sommer’s laugh made me smile once more. Something I’ve found myself doing when around her.
“Speaking of gorgeous ... the gala. What time should I pick you up? A friend wouldn’t let a friend go alone.”
She instantly shook her head. “I appreciate that, but I’ll be going with my grandfather. I’ll see you there. Remember, it’s not a date.”
Not yet, anyway.