Chapter 14
“Did you upgrade our seats? You know I don’t like when you waste your money. I’m more than happy watching from the top row as long as I get to be there to see you.”
“Don’t give him a hard time, Rena. Our knees are creakier now than they used to be,” Dad tells her, and even from the distance between us and the distortion of the speaker, I can hear the teasing grin in every word.
“Did you just call me old?”
“No, I called us both old—ow!”
I shake my head, eyeing the café from across the street while I say, “You asked for that one, Dad.”
“Where’s your sense of loyalty?” he guffaws.
Mom squeaks. “To you? What about the woman who grew him in her womb for nine months? His loyalty is exactly where it should be. That’s my boy. I knew I raised you right.”
“You’re despicable,” Dad scolds, but his tone is far too soft.
The twinge in my shoulder keeps my mind from swaying as I linger beside a fire hydrant, hitching a foot against it.
My parents have always been the epitome of a loving marriage.
I grew up watching my dad sweep my mom onto her feet during the credits of every family movie so they could dance together, and eventually getting brought up myself.
He bought her fresh flowers every Saturday morning and took her out for a date every second Wednesday night for wings at their favourite place.
Mom worked longer hours than he did, and he showed her how much he appreciated being given the opportunity to spend more time at home with me.
Unlike most of my teammates’ parents, it was he who drove carpool to practice and handled the snacks.
Once I got older, he volunteered to chaperone every away game and wore the Baseball Dad shirt I got him for Father’s Day with utter pride whenever he could.
And whenever he wasn’t busy with me, he was with her.
I have never taken my family for granted. Not when I was a little shit of a kid mouthing off for no good reason or now that I’m a grown man who can recognize just how much they both sacrificed for me.
“I upgraded your seats, and I won’t hear any complaints, Ma. Alright? You’re sitting behind the bullpen, and if I find out you’ve handed those seats off to someone else and bought another set, I’m going to be pretty cheesed,” I say, steering the conversation back to the point.
Mom chuffs. “It was a waste of money, Beckett.”
“It really wasn’t. You’re the one who refuses to let me use my discount to buy you season ones. We’d both be saving money that way. So, really, this is your fault.”
“He’s got a point, sunshine,” Dad murmurs.
“And now I’m going to enjoy these tickets with Paula and not your old, grumpy ass. I’ll make sure to eat a hot dog in your honour.”
I snort roughly. “Shit, Dad. Now look what you did. Not even a ball dog?”
“You’re grounded!” he barks, making me laugh into the street.
“I’m about fifteen years too old for that, but I’ll let it go because you just got a swift kick to the ass. Have fun with that, guys. Love you.”
I hang up before either of them can reply. My grin lingers as I stand here, staring at the quiet coffee shop. The sun is behind the top level of the building, not as bright or warm as it was when I left the stadium. Traffic was an absolute dick, so I’m already later than I was hoping.
Quinn reassured me twice that she’d be here tonight, but there’s still a wiggle of doubt in the back of my mind, especially after she took off on me last time.
I parked down the block, hoping to earn bonus points for listening.
I’m nervous enough as it is. Our conversations have been slim to none after that first night, and I already know that was on purpose.
I’d have called her every night after I got back to the hotel, but that . . . I think she would have blocked me if I’d tried.
Dropping my foot, I stretch out my neck. I won’t let myself avoid going in any longer. If she lied, then maybe Kellan had a point, even if that could very well send me spiralling. I’m not the crushing type of guy. I never have been, and I didn’t expect to see myself here at this point in my life.
I had myself convinced that I’d hold off on the whole settling-down thing until I hit thirty and became more grounded.
It’s already hard to keep up with the younger guys on the team who can pound back shots the night before a game and show up for practice the next morning looking like they shit rainbows and exhale butterflies.
Sleeping with women who have no desire for anything serious and don’t expect me to grab their numbers for a repeat was working just fine with me. It was just something that became the norm. Ritual, almost. Expected.
That’s all stopped. Now, I’m struggling with how to handle this new desire for more. It doesn’t help worth a shit that the woman who has thrust me off balance couldn’t care less.
I tug on the door, but it won’t open. Trying again, I realize it’s locked, and the sign now reads Closed. It’s the first time I’ve been denied access to Blank Page. Discomfort leaches through me, and I shove a hand into my pocket, needing to grab my phone and call—
The lock clicks.
I snap my eyes back up and fix them on the blue-grey ones staring at me through the glass. The quirk of her brow tells me I look as frazzled as I feel. Quinn pushes on the door, and I take a quick step back to give her the room to open it for me.
“Sorry. I didn’t know you were here,” she says, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.
Blowing out a tight breath, I give my head a shake. The smile that tugs at my lips is too relaxed, but I don’t focus on that right now.
“I was worried you’d taken off on me again.”
“Yeah, I get that. Sorry again. Come in.” She moves quickly, her hands fidgeting as she moves around me and locks the door behind me. “You can sit wherever. Want a muffin?”
“Only if you’ve got the good stuff left,” I say, softening my voice.
Her nerves are obvious now, concerning, especially when I’ve never seen her emotions so accessible before. It worries me a bit. Even more than her closing up early does. Though I assume those go hand in hand.
She disappears into the kitchen for a heartbeat before reappearing with a plate of muffins. The pink tint to them has my grin turning a lot more genuine.
I remember everything we spoke about the night before I left.
From her surprising interest in my career to the lack of confidence in her answers regarding her own future, there was a lot of information that I stored away in my memory bank.
It was the first time she’s even been open with me in that way, and it did my fucking head in all week.
Is that why she’s so on edge right now? Because she’s thinking about it, too?
I take the opportunity to check her out, knowing that once she kicks the nerves, she’ll notice every time I let my eyes slip.
Without her apron, I have a full, unrestricted view of her body.
One lingering look is all it takes for my cock to swell against my zipper, oh so very pleased that we’re here after so long away.
Her plain white V-neck long-sleeve is tight against her very generous chest, and I can just make out the shadow of the black bra she’s wearing beneath it.
A woman like Quinn doesn’t come across as someone who’d be wearing something lined in lace or bows to work, which leads my mind down a very dirty path of imagining her tits swelling in plain black cotton.
It’s a reaction that I don’t have a chance in fuck of understanding.
I’ve just started accepting that I’d enjoy looking at Quinn in a garbage bag as long as it meant I could still see her.
The straight-legged, light-washed jeans hugging her hips and flaring slightly at the calf are what I’ve come to expect her to be wearing.
She’d got a specific style that seems to do it for me.
Add the white Nikes on her feet, and I’m a fish with a hook caught in my chest. They’re identical to the ones I’m wearing.
“You closed early,” I note, shifting my gaze to the plate of muffins on the table I’m assuming is ours now.
“I didn’t want anyone to overhear what I have to say.”
“Okay . . .”
She jabs a finger at the chair across from the one she’s pulling out for herself. “Sit.”
“Yes, baby.”
Her eyes narrow as I take my seat and lean back with my arms crossed. “This is serious.”
“Did something happen? Is that why you didn’t text me all week?”
“What? No. Nothing happened.”
“The old ghosting trick, then,” I muse.
“I didn’t ghost you. Were you expecting me to pine after you all week and send you ‘I miss you’ texts?”
“I mean, it would have been nice, yeah.”
Her sharp tongue is back, and that’s more than enough reassurance that I didn’t fuck up badly enough to lose all the ground I gained the other night. Quinn might be nervous about something, but she’s still my girl.
She taps her naked fingernails on the table before sucking in a breath. “Do you remember Ruthie? The woman from the other day?”
“The one with the silver hair who seems to think we’re madly in love? Yeah, I remember.”
“Okay, hold your horse. She doesn’t think we’re madly in love. But yeah, that’s her.” She fiddles with the clip holding her hair back and removes it, letting those thick auburn strands fall down her shoulders. My fingers dance across my thigh. “I may have told her something that I shouldn’t have.”
That distracts me from the pulsing need to touch her hair. “Told her what?”
Quinn draws her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing down on it while she reaches for a muffin and rips the top off.
I hide my laugh behind a forced cough, then do the nice thing of taking one for myself and taking a bite from the top so her move doesn’t seem as out of place.
I’m halfway through chewing when she speaks.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve dated, alright?
Let’s get that out of the way right now.
I don’t have time to date. I mean, obviously.
Look around. You come here often enough to know that I’m always working.
I don’t even have the time to go to the salon to get my hair cut, so I’ve forced my sister into learning the basics just so I can conquer my split ends from time to time.
” She shoves a hand through her hair and tugs it behind her, draping it over the back of her chair.
“Ruthie is a busybody. She loves to insert herself into my life and thinks that I’m doing myself some great disservice by not going out and getting laid or falling in love.
So, when she started pushing her grandson on me, I panicked. ”
I blink, nodding regardless of how little any of that I’ve actually registered. My mind remains focused on the fact that she hasn’t gotten laid in a while, as if that’s the most important tidbit of knowledge here.
“She’s always gone before you get here. For the last four months, it’s been the same.
That’s the only reason I told her that I couldn’t be with her grandson because I was already interested in someone.
Because if there was someone else involved, surely she wasn’t going to continue pushing me onto her grandson.
It would be cruel to continue bringing him up when I’m already spoken for. ”
My head clears a bit, and then my voice comes out rough, biting. “You’re dating someone?”
“No. I’m not, but she thinks I am.”
“Be straight with me, Quinn. Tell me what’s going on before I blow a gasket.”
“I am dating someone. You. As far as Ruthie is aware, we’re in a very new, very all-consuming relationship.”