Chapter 20
TWENTY
Old wounds?
What the hell was Kinsley talking about?
As I stared out at her across the booth, gone was the girl from my past. Kinsley crossed her arms over her chest. From the flare of her eyes to the purse of her lips, her icy anger felt palpable from the other side of the table; the taste bitter on my tongue.
When had she given me her number? I scoured my house when she left, hoping she’d left it somewhere for me to find.
But after hours of searching, I gave up, assuming she had no interest in seeing me again.
Kinsley picked up her phone from the table. “I should go. My lunch break is almost over—”
“No.” Her dark eyes flared to life, and I held out my hands. “Go back to what you said, Kinsley.” She bristled. “Please. When did you give me your number?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose before her eyes darted to the door. Not going to happen. Not when I was so close to the answers I craved. With a resigned sigh, she dropped her gaze to her intertwined fingers. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It matters to me.”
Kinsley shifted in her seat, refusing to meet my stare. “Three months after we spent the night together.” Her cheeks flushed. “I messaged you through social media because I didn’t have your number.”
“You did?” Random messages always flooded my inbox, from fans to people complaining about my latest game. I ignored them, but if Kinsley had been in there, I would have noticed. Realization crept down my spine. “Fuck, Kins. I didn’t have access to my phone back then.”
“Right,” she scoffed, crossing her arms around her chest. Her dark eyes avoided mine, and, fuck, I needed them, needed to see that vulnerability she rarely showed. She glanced down at her phone. “I should go. This was a mistake.”
“Wait.” I said, reaching out to take her hand.
My throat dried up as she paused, unsure what to tell her.
Talking about my recovery was a sore subject with anyone, but something about admitting my faults to Kinsley hurt worse.
She already looked at me like I was the devil in disguise, and my admission might prove her right.
But between letting her walk out the door or flaying myself open, I’d pick the latter every time.
“When I got kicked off the Hawks, I was in a bad place, doing some messed up things. Benny—our team manager—he arranged for me to go to rehab during the off-season. Said it was the only way I’d ever get to play in the majors again.”
Kinsley sucked in a sharp breath, searching my expression. “You-you went to rehab?”
“Sixty days,” I said. “No phones, no internet access. Just a lot of soul-searching and therapy sessions. I had no access to any of my accounts.”
Silence stretched across the table, but the anger receded in Kinsley’s expression, replaced with something a lot more like regret.
“You didn’t know,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes lining with tears. “You didn’t block me?”
“What?” I snapped, clutching her hand a little tighter.
She didn’t snatch it away—a win. “Never. I would never have done that to you. Fuck, Kinsley. I’ve thought about you every day for the past two years.
Couldn’t get you out of my head. If I had your number?
You can bet I would have called you.” Her earlier comment flashed through my mind.
“Is that what you thought? That I didn’t want you? ”
She nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. I reached out and brushed the first few away with my thumbs. “Kins, you are the only person I’ve wanted in a long time. And if you’re willing to give me another shot, I’d do just about anything to prove it to you.”
She swallowed as she shifted closer to me, letting my fingers linger against her cheek.
Just the slightest touch, but enough to make me want more.
Thank God I hadn’t fucked everything up between us.
Don’t get me wrong—I’d find out who blocked her.
My phone should have been sitting in my apartment, not touched by anyone while I was gone.
Someone had broken my trust, and I sure as hell would find out who.
But at least I hadn’t hurt Kinsley myself.
I never would have forgiven myself if that had been the case.
“Jace, there’s something I need to tell you—”
Kinsley’s words stopped when her phone rang out on the table. She cursed under her breath, “Sorry, it’s most likely work.” But when she read the screen, the color drained from her face. “I, uh—I need to take this.”
I nodded, sitting back as she answered the call, giving only one or two-word answers.
It was wrong—but my ears strained to listen in, trying to figure out if it was someone special, a guy she was seeing.
She moved her phone to her other hand. No ring—good.
A boyfriend was one issue, one I could handle, but a husband would have been a much bigger problem.
“Oh my God,” Kinsley gasped. “N-no, I’m coming right now.”
As she hung up the call, Kinsley darted to her feet, her hands shaking as she threw some bills onto the table. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” Her voice shook as she dug through her pockets. “Fuck, I need my keys. Where are my keys?”
“Hey,” I said as I stood, placing my hands on her shoulders. “Take a breath, Kins. You’re okay. Tell me what’s going on.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. Not right now. I need—I need to go.” She dumped the contents of her purse onto the table, searching through the items. When she passed over her keys three times, I picked them up. She tried to take them from me, but I shook my head.
“You’re in no state to drive. Let me take you where you need to go. No questions asked, okay?”
Kinsley stared at me for a long moment and then nodded, defeat sinking her shoulders. As we walked toward her car, my arms ached to reach out and comfort her, wanting to be the person she confided in. But I wasn’t there, not yet.
As she climbed into the passenger seat, I walked around to the driver’s side, taking in one last look at her as she typed an address into the GPS. I tried not to think too much about it, instead offering silent support to the woman at my side.
But as we drove through the city, I made myself a promise. Now that Kinsley was back in my life, I wasn’t letting her go again. Not without a fight.
The address was only a ten-minute drive from the cafe, but it seemed like hours.
Kinsley didn’t say a word, instead focusing on her phone and the GPS.
Every time a turn came up, she shifted in her seat, directing me before the screen could finish.
When I tried to talk to her, she only responded with head motions, fidgeting more the closer we got.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the Sunshine Academy, unease slid down my spine.
Why the hell were we at Hadley’s daycare?
Had something happened to her? I turned to ask Kinsley, but she had already shoved open the passenger side door, darting up the path to the double doors.
Warning bells rang in my mind as I shoved the car into park and pushed open the door.
Kinsley’s eyes met mine as I approached, her pupils wide in warning. She held her hand up. “Jace, go.”
“Not until I know you’re okay,” I insisted. “Is it Hadley? Is she hurt?”
“What?” Kinsley snapped, her features scrunched in confusion. “Why would she—” Her face slackened, and she shook her head. “No, Hadley’s fine. This has nothing to do with her. Or you. Not right now. Please, just go.”
Her eyes were stone, allowing no room for argument.
The phone call had shattered any progress we’d made.
Kinsley was keeping secrets from me, and, even though I had no right to demand answers, desperation crawled through my chest, wanting to learn everything about her.
But there was still a lot more work to do to get to that place.
Even if it took me the rest of my life, I’d earn back Kinsley’s trust, starting by giving her space right now.
“At least let me give you the keys,” I mumbled, stepping to her side just as Victoria pushed the door open.
The sound of children playing pushed through the doorway, and twinkle lights sparkled in the entrance.
Why was Kinsley here? None of it made any sense, especially if it had nothing to do with Hadley.
Why else would she come to our friend’s daycare?
“Hey, everything’s okay.” Victoria stopped Kinsley before she could rush by, holding her hands. “It’s just a little bump. You didn’t need to rush over here.”
Kinsley nodded, “I-I know, but I need to see her. She’s never…” A swallow. “I need to see she’s okay for myself.”
Victoria nodded as Kinsley breezed past her, focused on getting inside the building more than anything else. I tried to follow, but Victoria stepped in my way. “Jace, I don’t know if you should go in with her.”
But her words came too late, because as soon as Kinsley entered the school, she dropped to her knees, scooping a little girl into her arms. A little girl with golden curls pulled into twin pigtails and blue eyes so dark, they rivaled the night sky.
A familiar sensation crawled up my spine, and my throat closed as the world spun out around me.
She cried as Kinsley stood, holding her against her chest. As she stroked the little girl’s back, Kinsley said, “It’s okay, baby.
Let me look at you.” She pushed the girl’s hair back, inspecting her forehead, where a red, splotchy mark sat.
“Oh, you’re going to be a-okay. Mommy’s got you. ”
Mommy.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I looked down, meeting Victoria’s concerned frown.
She nodded, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough that my entire world shifted with the lowering of her chin.
The little girl’s eyes met mine over her mother’s shoulders, and it was like looking into a mirror.
The same shade—the same shape—looked back at me.
Was that why she tried to reach out?
I staggered back, trying to remember how to breathe. How old could she be? A year? Ignoring Victoria, I moved inside the building, standing at Kinsley’s side. She said something, but I didn’t hear her, too busy staring at the baby snuggled in her arms. “Who is this?”
Kinsley swallowed, glancing from me to the little girl. “This is Anna…my daughter.”
“Daughter,” I said, my voice trembling as I studied her face. “Kinsley…is she—” I swallowed, unable to get the words out. “Did we—”
Kinsley’s gaze swung to Victoria, who gave us space but loitered by the doorway. With a nod from her friend, Kinsley dipped her chin. “She’s yours, Jace.”