Moonshot(54)

“It’s Ty,” I said, watching Chase, his eyes wary. “I’m leaving for the night.”





81



He needed her out of there. Out of Grant’s world. Out of the cameras’ sight. Every minute together, in that stadium, felt tainted. That should have been their home. They met there—fell in love there. That was their place, until it wasn’t, until it became hers and Tobey’s. And now, he couldn’t breathe there. He could crush homers and have every person in it chant his name, but it was still ruined. He could bring them a trophy, and it would still belong to Tobey. Just like Ty.

They jogged down, along the fence, away from the lights. She ran quickly, the dog between them, his ears forward, eyes watching. A nasty looking dog. Full German Shepherd, its lack of leash had been intimidating in the stadium. Here, in the open street, it was terrifying. She didn’t seem concerned, her occasional commands to the dog obeyed with perfect precision.

They ran past closed restaurants and shops, the streets quiet, cars sparse. She was quiet, and he said nothing, falling a step behind, his eyes on the curve of her ass, the swing of her arms. Like everything else, her run was seamless. Effortless.

“Stop looking at my butt.” She tossed the comment over her shoulder, no hitch in her breath, her voice as calm and controlled as if she was standing still. He quickened his steps, lumbering up the hill next to her, his hand reaching out, cupping her elbow, pulling on it.

“Slow down.” He sighed. “Walk a minute.”

“I forgot.” She slowed, looking over with a smile. “You’re an old man.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He pulled his hat lower and made eye contact with a bum, the man looking away as they passed. “I’m ancient, and you’re a freak of nature. Happy?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, her steps slowing until they hit a speed he could handle without audibly wheezing. Maybe he needed to skip the weights a little. Get in more cardio.

“You do Ironmans in your spare time?” He wanted to grab her arm again. Then her waist. Pin her up against the next building and reclaim that mouth. Before, years ago, he could be around her without touching her. When had he lost that ability? Now, every minute with her was a battle of self-control, a fight to regain all of the years that they missed.

“Ha.” She looked down, resting her hands on her hips, and he watched the heave of her chest as she let out a long breath.

He couldn’t stop himself; he reached out, his hand settling on her back. “Let’s stop, right there.” He nodded ahead, at a food truck idling on the side street. “My treat.”





82



The beer was cold for the crisp night, but when paired with the hot Cuban sandwich, absolutely heavenly. We sat on a curb, hunched over our food, our shoulders often brushing. “He’s a beautiful animal.” Chase nodded to Titan.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, finishing my mouthful of food. “What ended up happening with Casper?”

He paused for a moment before looking over. “Surprised you remember him.”

“Did he move with you?”

He looked back down at his beer. “I wasn’t in New York long enough to bring him. I tried in Baltimore, but…” He lifted his shoulders, glancing over at me with a wry smile. “He wasn’t happy. And I felt guilty being on the road so much. Some girl once told me it was cruel … that kind of stuck with me.”

“Sounds like a smart girl,” I shot back.

“In some ways she was.” His smile lost its strength. “In other ways…” He tilted back his beer, watching me.

“I wasn’t the only one who made dumb decisions back then, Chase,” I said quietly. “You left. And you never came back, you never called.” Thoughts I had said so many times in my head, a mantra that I had used, time and time again, to try and stop loving him.

“I was mad. And then, when I calmed down, your number was disconnected. And then … not even a month later, you were with him.” His voice had hardened, raw emotion, anger, still there and I pushed back, just as upset. “You didn’t even give me time to sort out anything. To wrap my head around everything. I didn’t know how to handle how I felt for you. And I didn’t know how to handle it when I was traded. What was I supposed to do?”

“You could have flown here. Called my dad. It wasn’t like you didn’t have the resources—and I didn’t have that. I didn’t even have my own money to come and visit you—” My words broke off and I stared at the sandwich, numbly wrapping the paper around it, my appetite gone, four years of emotions welling to the surface. “You could have come.” I whispered. Rescued me.

“You were engaged. Then married. So fast.” He reached over, pulling at my hand, his thumb running over the place where my diamond normally sat. “Why?” he asked.

I swallowed, feeling the familiar push of tears, the thickening of my throat that occurred whenever I thought of the baby. “I was pregnant,” I said simply, lifting my eyes to his, steeled for the reaction.

He froze, the only movement in his face the twitch of his eyes. They searched mine, reading everything in the moment before tears blurred my vision. I didn’t move, I couldn’t speak, couldn’t give him any more information. His arm moved, his beer set down, and then he was brushing my hair carefully back, his warm hands cupping my face. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.