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by Nicole Williams


  The team didn’t function without every player giving it their all. Especially when that player was Luke Archer. He’d been a mess during the game in New York—he’d been worse in this one. Only a couple of days had gone by since our talk, but to look at him, it was like he’d been marooned on a deserted island for months. His face was unshaven, his eyes sunken, his expression hardened.

  I’d done my best to avoid him, but he’d done his best to thwart my plans. He never said anything—he just locked his eyes on mine for a moment—but that said everything he was trying to get across.

  He wanted to talk. But there was nothing to talk about. I didn’t want to bring up what I’d found out from Shepherd because part of me had too much pride to admit that that was the reason I’d called it off. I wanted to be the first girl to cut him off before he got the chance. I wanted him to think I was done because I was done, not because of what I’d found out. I wanted to walk away with as much dignity as I could, because I didn’t feel like I had much.

  I’d lost him. I was going to lose my job. I was close to losing my credibility.

  I’d lost enough without adding in the last remnants of my pride.

  “Hey, Allie, what gives?” Shepherd stopped in front of where I was settled on the bench. “Archer isn’t looking good out there. Might need to pull a late night. Make sure he’s all set to go for the next game.”

  It was faint, but I didn’t miss the wink he gave me before wandering down to the other end of the dugout. My fists curled in so tightly, I could feel my nails close to drawing blood from my palms. The only perk to getting let go from my dream job at the end of the season would be not having to deal with Shepherd anymore.

  “How’s it hangin’, Doc?” Reynolds crashed into the seat beside me, nudging me not-so-lightly. When he saw the look on my face, he snorted. “Sorry about that. Force of habit. How are you doing?” he corrected, trying to sound as eloquent as a big guy from Alabama could.

  “I’m okay.”

  Reynolds nodded, his eyes drifting toward the Shock player stepping up to the plate. “You know who isn’t okay?”

  My shoulders fell when I saw Luke. His routine of tapping his cleats and eyeing the spot on the fence he wanted to sail the ball over had been replaced by slouching up to the plate with an expression that embodied withdrawn.

  “Yeah, he’s had a rough game.” I had to look away. I’d spent enough time wondering if I was making the right decision just cutting him off without so much as having a conversation like a couple of adults.

  “That’s not the okay I was talking about.” Reynolds threw me another not-so-gentle nudge. “What’s going on with you two?”

  I glanced at him from the side. He met me with a raised brow. Fantastic. So the players were in on the secret too.

  “Nothing’s going on with us two.”

  “Yeah? Is that why you can’t look at him without looking like you’re either about to cry or curse?”

  When a collective groan echoed through the dugout, I sighed. Strike one.

  “Did he tell you?” I asked.

  “Didn’t have to.” When I twisted in my seat to see what he meant, he added, “I could tell. I could see it when he looked at you. I could hear it when he talked about you.”

  I held my breath as the pitcher wound up. “Did you know about the arrangement?”

  “What arrangement?” He cursed when Archer’s bat swung around, connecting with air. Strike two. “Are you two ‘arranged’ to be married or something?” When he moved to nudge me again, I slid down the bench a little to ease the impact. “What arrangement?”

  Reynolds didn’t know. Probably none of the players did, I thought. It wouldn’t go over well that the team had set aside a special someone for one player but none for the rest of them.

  “Never mind.” My tone came out too biting. Reynolds didn’t miss it.

  “Listen, Doc, if Archer did something to hurt you, I know it wasn’t on purpose.”

  My hands curled around the front of the bench as the pitcher stared Archer down with smugness on his face—two strikes, zero balls. We all knew where this was likely going.

  “I know he might seem kind of distant at first, removed when you meet him, but it’s because he’s Luke Archer. He’s careful because women look at him and see a windfall.” Reynolds leaned forward on the bench with the rest of the players as the pitcher wound up again. “Just do him right, okay? He’s been done wrong before. He’s one of the good ones.”

  I was saved my response when the pitcher threw his third pitch. Archer’s bat moved like he was swinging through rock instead of air. The ball hissed into the catcher’s glove.

  Strike three.

  THE TEAM BUS was silent after the game. Other than the rumble of the engine and the whir of air conditioning, the loss had taken the words right out of the team.

  I’d managed to avoid Luke in the locker room, busy tending to other players who needed to be taped and stretched, but every once in a while, I felt him watching me. It was a strange feeling and one I’d never felt before. It felt like someone was tapping on my shoulder, trying to get my attention, but when I turned around, no one was there. Like my mind had made up the whole thing, and then I’d find Luke watching me with that same look I’d seen a lot the past few days—like he was trying to figure out a way to save something that couldn’t be saved.

  As was my new habit, I’d slid into the seat beside Reynolds for the ride back to the hotel. He looked like he was asleep, so I wouldn’t have to worry about him harassing me about Luke again.

  The bus had just pulled away from the Pioneers’ stadium when I noticed someone coming down the aisle toward us. With the way Luke was looking at me, it was no mystery where he was heading.

  In a bus packed with people, it wasn’t like he could just stand in the aisle and have it out with me, and thankfully I had Reynolds taking up the seat beside me. But as soon as Archer came to a stop beside our row, Reynolds woke right up.

  “Sorry, Doc.” He yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

  “Reynolds,” I hissed under my breath when he moved to stand. I was not going to have another conversation like our first one with Luke on the team bus.

  “You two have got some shit to clear up. I don’t know what it’s about or how you can fix it, but clear it up already.” Reynolds slugged Archer’s arm when he rose, then he lumbered down the aisle in search of a different seat.

  Twisting around in my seat so I was angled toward the window, I tried to ignore the man standing in the aisle, watching me. I’d learned weeks ago that ignoring Luke Archer was impossible though.

  “Are you going to sit?” I snapped under my breath when he continued to linger in the aisle. We were in the back of the bus and most of the team was more up front, but still. This wasn’t exactly a private place.

  “Are you going to talk?”

  “I already said everything I need to talk about.”

  Luke slid into the seat beside me, his nearness taking me off guard. He shouldn’t have still been able to make me feel this way. Not after everything.

  “Will you listen then?”

  “I’m stuck in the seat beside you,” I answered, wondering what he thought he could say that would explain everything.

  “What happened between us?” He twisted in his seat so he was almost facing me.

  “I told you—we hit our expiration date. And there wasn’t an ‘us.’ It was you and me coming together to have sex,” I said quietly, glancing around to make sure no one was tuning into our conversation.

  “I don’t accept that. This wasn’t that kind of a relationship.”

  “You don’t have to accept it. It doesn’t change the reality of it.”

  Luke’s hand curled around his armrest, his knuckles fading to white from his grip. He might have been able to stay calm on the surface, but he wasn’t inside. “I think you’re mad at me about something. I think you heard something or read something or learned about something that made
you feel like I’d betrayed you in some way. I’d like to know whatever it is so I can explain myself.”

  I shifted in my seat. “There’s nothing to explain.”

  “Then there is something?”

  My eyes closed. Why wouldn’t he just let this go? Why was he acting like he really cared? I knew two months of the season were still left, but surely Luke Archer could get his physical needs attended to by no shortage of candidates. This unknowing, albeit welcoming, designated candidate was done.

  “Let me give you my explanation since you’ve clearly arrived at your own.” When Luke’s arm bumped mine gently, warmth spread into my body. It should have been soothing, but my anger turned it into the opposite.

  My eyes snapped open. “What is it you think you’ve done, Luke? What in the hell do you think you could have done to piss me off and push me away?” I paused just long enough for him to let that settle in. “If you won’t accept that I’m through with us just because our fuck-buddy status ran its shelf life, then you must have something else in mind for why I called it off.”

  His brows came together as he inspected the area around us like I had earlier. No one was twisting around in their seats.

  “You keep asking me what’s wrong and why I’m angry, so surely you must have come up with a list of reasons why. If you’re asking me what it is you need to fix, then you must know there’s something you broke in the first place.” My whispered words were making me shake. “What do you have to explain to me, Luke?”

  I saw something settle into his eyes, the creases of confusion ironing out. The longer he studied me silently fuming in the seat beside him, the more realization settled over him. He knew I knew.

  I should have felt vindication in that. I should have felt victorious that I’d figured it out, unlike the ones before me. As I watched him fall back into his seat, his eyes closing and his mouth sealing, it felt like more of a defeat.

  “See? You don’t have anything to say either.”

  When I rose to find someplace else to sit, Luke’s hand grabbed mine as I slid by him. As I felt my fingers start to curl around his, I swiped my hand away and bolted into the aisle.

  “If you ever touch me again, I will tell everyone on this bus and everyone in the whole damn world about your little secret, Luke Archer.” My voice shook as I glared at him. “Don’t you ever lay your hands on me again.”

  Something dark flashed over his face, then he tipped his ball cap low on his face and closed his eyes. I guessed he was done fighting. I’d said what I needed to to make him give up. My threat hadn’t made me proud—I knew the importance he placed on privacy—but it was all I had left to sever the connection he refused to let go of.

  “How’s that for pushing you away?”

  WE WERE BACK in San Diego for a home game. Home. I’d spent a lot of time thinking about what home was. Was it a city? A house? A person? A feeling? A combination of all of that?

  Home. Most days it felt like a fantasy, something as lofty and far-fetched as a unicorn. Like you’d have to steal it if you really wanted it because it wasn’t just going to fall into your lap. It wasn’t a given; it was something you had to take.

  As I sat at the small table in my apartment, I knew this wasn’t home. It was so quiet, but not the kind that felt peaceful. The kind that felt lonely. The kind that made a person reflect on crazy things like the definition of home.

  Just as I was straining my teabag, hoping chamomile might be up to the task of allowing me some sleep tonight, there was a knock on my front door. I wasn’t expecting anyone and I hadn’t had time to make any friends in San Diego who would feel comfortable enough to just swing by at nine o’clock at night.

  When I glanced through the peephole to see who it was, I sucked in a breath. After the way things had gone down between Luke and me, I’d never expected to hear from any of his sisters again. Then again, I did remember the very one standing on the other side of my door warning me that if I hurt him, I’d have three sisters to answer to.

  I guessed I didn’t need to wonder why Alex was here.

  Unlocking the door, I pulled it open. She returned my conventional smile, shifting like she was uncomfortable.

  “Please don’t tell me you drove all the way from Oceanside,” I said softly.

  She shook her head. “My sisters and I are staying with Luke this weekend.”

  I exhaled some relief before my next question popped to mind. “Does Luke know you’re here?”

  She shifted again. “Not exactly.”

  I exhaled. “Alex . . .”

  “He wouldn’t have let me come if I’d told him where I was going. I took a cab.”

  “You need to let him know. He will lose it if he finds out you’re gone this late at night.” Grabbing her arm, I pulled her into the apartment and closed the door. “You can use my phone.”

  “I’ve got a phone when I’m ready to call him, but first, I need to talk to you.”

  “Alex . . .”

  “Luke has always taken care of me. Of all of us. I want to take care of him for once.”

  “And what does you being here with me have to do with taking care of him?”

  “Because he cares about you.” She motioned at me. “I don’t know what happened or why you guys aren’t together anymore, but he’s miserable and I need to know why. Since he won’t say anything, I’m going to have to get it out of you.”

  I took a moment to consider my options. I could call Luke right now and drive her back to his place, or I could hear what she’d come here to say and then take her to his place. Judging by the look on her face, I’d probably have to throw her over my shoulder to get her into my car before she told me whatever she was here to say.

  What was five minutes?

  “This sounds like we’re going to need chocolate.” I sighed, wandering into the kitchen.

  Alex followed. “Chocolate would probably be a good idea.”

  “Good thing I just stocked up,” I said, pulling out the end time’s stockpile of chocolate.

  Alex’s eyes went round. “The last time I saw this much chocolate was when my ex broke up with me.” When she gave me a knowing look, I snagged a fun-size Twix from the stash. She took a seat on the barstool across from me, pulling a chocolate-and-caramel Kiss from the bag. “So why aren’t you guys together anymore?”

  I didn’t answer until I’d finished my Twix. Just to see if the chocolate and sugar made it easier to talk about. “We weren’t ever really together to begin with.”

  “Eh, yeah, you were,” she replied, giving me a look.

  “You saw us together once, Alex.”

  She popped the Kiss into her mouth and shrugged. “But I know Luke, and if you two weren’t together, he wouldn’t have let us see you together at all. He’s never introduced us to anyone he’s been with other than you.” She was already fishing for her next piece when one side of her face pulled up. “Well, and . . .”

  “Callie?” Okay, another piece of chocolate was in order after saying her name out loud.

  “You know about her?”

  “Yeah.” I popped a few M&M’s in my mouth, trying to cut the bitterness.

  “Did he tell you?”

  “No.”

  “Is that why you broke up with him?” She bit her lip, chewing something out on it. “Because if it was, I know why he didn’t tell you.”

  I shook my head. “That wasn’t the reason. At least not the main one.”

  Pulling her long braid around her shoulder, she studied me. Almost in the same way Luke had so many times. “What is the main one?”

  “That’s between Luke and me.” A few more M&M’s got dumped into my mouth. My plan of dulling the pain via chocolate was working. At least a little.

  Alex was quiet after that. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting for me to say something or trying to figure out what to say next. I felt bad that she’d come here and I couldn’t be honest with her about the reason her brother and I hadn’t worked out, but there wa
s no way I could tell her the real reason. I didn’t want to tarnish her view of her big brother.

  After digging out a handful of Kisses, she started to make a little pyramid with them. She was on the second row when she glanced up. “Do you know about Owen too?”

  I didn’t know his name, but from the sound of her voice, I knew who she was referring to. “The little boy? Yeah, I found that out on my own too.”

  “That’s why he didn’t tell you about Callie—because of Owen. I know he would have eventually, but he doesn’t tell just anybody about them.”

  At the same time I respected his decision to keep them private, given his world was what it was, I resented it. It was an immature reaction and I knew it, but it was the plight of the scorned lover.

  “I can understand that,” I said, trying to sound as convincing as I could. “It would be hard growing up being known as Luke Archer’s son. All of the media. I get it.”

  Alex was just about to put the top Kiss on the pyramid when she flinched. The whole thing came crashing down. “Owen isn’t Luke’s son.” She blinked at me. “Luke might have thought he was at first, but Luke isn’t his father.”

  The package of M&M’s dropped out of my hand. “What?”

  Alex slumped in the seat as she unwrapped another Kiss. “I know. It’s the worst. Callie got pregnant with Owen when Luke and her were together, so of course he assumed the baby was his.” When Alex’s eyes narrowed as she said Callie’s name, I didn’t miss it. “The whole time she was pregnant—even those first few weeks after Owen was born—Luke thought he was his. It’s not like they were planning on getting pregnant, but he was going to do whatever it took to take care of them. You should have seen him, Allie.” A sad smile touched her face. “God, he was such a great dad, you know? So proud—so in love with that little guy.”

  When her eyes got glassy, I knew mine would follow. I was a huge sympathy bawler.

  “What happened?” I breathed.

  Alex balled up her empty foil wrappers, her expression darkening. “Some asshole came into the picture before Owen turned one month old. Claimed he and Callie had been messing around for a while and demanded a paternity test.” She snorted, shaking her head. “Turned out, the asshole was the father. Not Luke.”

 

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