by Tara Wyatt
Beau sighed. “I guess so.”
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry about Piper leaving. I was just doing my job.”
“I know. And I know how you can make it up to me.”
Thirteen
Piper stood in the middle of what could only be described as very organized chaos. Thanks to Aerin’s New York connections, she was currently standing in her brand new Manhattan apartment as dusk fell, watching as Aerin’s brother Max, his wife Willa, and Aerin’s brother’s very pregnant girlfriend Olivia bustled around, setting everything up. Aerin had introduced her to Willa and Olivia when she’d first arrived in New York nearly three weeks ago, helping her to make a couple of new friends so that she wouldn’t be on her own in a new city, which was thoughtful.
Willa Prescott was a ball of sunshine, full of warmth and kindness, always happy to chat and easy to talk to. Her husband was quieter, a little more reserved, and seemed perfectly happy to let Willa be the social one. Olivia was also friendly, but she had an edge to her that Piper really liked. She was funny and bold and not afraid to boss people around, just like she was doing right now.
“No, Max. That chair’s for the bedroom. In there,” she said, waving her hand in the direction of Piper’s new bedroom. Olivia was an interior designer, and she’d been thrilled to help Piper decorate her new place, free of charge. It had been a long time since Piper had really had girlfriends in her life, and while starting her new life in New York was incredibly bittersweet, she was grateful for Willa and Olivia, and loving her new job.
Max grunted and picked up the chair from the living room, carrying it into the bedroom.
Olivia shot Piper a conspiratorial grin. “I’d do it, but I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy.”
Max returned from the bedroom. “You only get to milk that for two more weeks,” he said, but he was grinning.
Willa shot him a look of pretend exasperation. “But then she’ll have just given birth. Just let her boss us around. It makes her happy.”
Olivia clapped her hands together. “Yes. Yes, it does.”
Piper laughed and got to work on unpacking one of the boxes she’d had shipped from Dallas. As she worked on filling her new bookcase, her thoughts wandered to Beau, just as they almost always did when her mind was idle. It had been three weeks, and she hadn’t heard from him, not that she was expecting to. They’d said their goodbyes and he didn’t owe her anything at this point.
But she missed him like crazy. Alone at night, when she couldn’t sleep, she’d imagine his arms around her. She’d conjure up the memory of his scent, the deep rumble of his voice, the beautiful emerald green of his eyes. When she could, she’d watch the Longhorns, cheering him on from afar, wondering if he missed her as much as she missed him. Hoping he’d be happy in Seattle.
Most of all, she wished things could be different. But it was impossible to have it all, wasn’t it? Sacrifices had to be made in the name of goals, in the pursuit of success, and this was hers. Falling for Beau and then having to walk away from him was the price she’d paid to realize her dreams.
And really, she’d been foolish to let herself fall, although she wasn’t sure she could’ve stopped it. She’d known he wasn’t a relationship guy, known he wasn’t going to stay. Known they were only temporary. Their parting had been bittersweet, and he’d seemed sad to let her go, but he’d never asked her for more. What would she have said, if he’d wanted to give long distance a shot? If he’d told her he wanted to find a way to make it work?
She didn’t know, and she’d been too chicken, too scared of rejection to ask him those same questions, as much as she’d wanted to.
As she arranged books and knickknacks on the shelf, her phone started to ring, and her heart vaulted into her throat when she saw who was calling her.
Beau. His name bounced on the screen as her phone buzzed and she felt absolutely frozen. Willa, who was unwrapping a vase nearby glanced over at her when Piper’s phone continued to buzz.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. Over a bottle of wine about a week ago, she’d told Willa about her fling with Beau, needing someone to talk to about it. Willa had listened sympathetically, offering her a friendly shoulder and a kind ear.
Piper nodded and wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans. “Yeah. I better take it.” She grabbed the phone with a shaky hand and disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
“Hey,” she answered, sinking down onto the bare mattress.
“Hey.” The single syllable, spoken in his deep voice, cut through her like a knife, and suddenly tears were pricking her eyes. She realized then that she’d been in denial about just how much she missed him. Just how broken her heart was over leaving. She’d buried herself in her new job and her new life, carefully avoiding the worst of the pain. She’d been living her life as though she were pressing all around a bruise and convincing herself it didn’t hurt.
“How…how are you?” she asked, swallowing around the lump in her throat.
“I’m okay. Missing the hell outta you, though.” Her chest hurt, and she pressed a hand against her heart.
“I miss you, too.” Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly, nearly overwhelmed with just how much she missed him.
“Listen, I’m in town. We’re playing the Yankees, and I was wondering if I could see you.”
“I…I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” She was worried that seeing him again might undo any progress she’d made over the past few weeks and she’d be back to square one, hurting all over again. It was like picking a scab; the wound wouldn’t heal if she kept opening it up.
“I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.” She could hear the urgency in his voice, and it melted her resolve.
“Okay. Yeah. When and where?”
“We had an afternoon game earlier today, so I’m free now if you are. My hotel’s near Times Square. We could meet there? Is that far for you?”
“No, I’m actually just a few blocks up. I can walk there in about ten minutes.”
“Great. See you soon?”
“See you soon.”
She ended the call, and when she emerged from her bedroom, she found Willa and Olivia standing right there, pretending they hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop.
“What did he want?” asked Willa, while Olivia suddenly seemed very interested in rearranging a stack of placemats on the kitchen counter.
“He’s here in town and he wants to talk to me. We’re meeting in Times Square.”
“When?”
“Um, like now.”
Willa let out a little squeal and then pulled Piper in for a hug. “Okay. We’ll keep unpacking here. You go see what he has to say.”
Piper nodded, hurrying into her jacket. Her movements felt short and jerky with all of the adrenaline coursing through her system. She was a riot of nerves and anticipation and excitement at the thought of seeing Beau again. God, just hearing his voice had done something to her, electrifying her and bringing a part of her back to life.
Too amped up to wait for the elevator, she took the stairs from her sixth-floor apartment down to the lobby and then stepped out into the crisp evening air. After spending her entire life in Texas, the cooler Manhattan temperatures were going to take some getting used to.
As she walked, the city was vibrant and alive around her, the sidewalks filled with pedestrians, the streets buzzing with cars and bright yellow taxis. She continued down West 52nd, passing Broadway theatres and restaurants, walking quickly and weaving in between slower moving groups of people. The closer she got to Times Square the harder and faster her heart beat, the shakier her legs felt, but she kept walking.
What did he want to talk to her about? What was left to say? Those two questions looped through her mind as she walked, over and over.
With soaring buildings and flashing billboards surrounding her, she stepped into Times Square, her eyes scanning the space. Against the odds, she spotted him almost rig
ht away, standing near a little makeshift café in front of a set of risers about twenty feet away. He was wearing a backwards ballcap, a black T-shirt and jeans, and her insides went into a riot at the sight of him. She felt giddy and lightheaded and nervous and excited, all at the same time. She’d seen him on TV over the past few weeks, but seeing him in person was completely different.
He smiled and held up a hand in greeting, taking several long strides toward her. She broke into a jog, meeting him in the middle.
“Hi,” she said, her entire body feeling like a rocket about to go off, she was so full of nerves and adrenaline.
“Hi. Thanks for coming.” Tentatively, he reached out and pulled her in for a hug, and she went willingly into his arms. Something inside her settled at the feeling of those strong arms around her, his heart beating against her cheek.
“Yeah, of course. It’s good to see you. Really good.” She squeezed him tighter, unwilling to let him go. She let out a shaky breath and forced herself to step back. “What did you want to talk about? You said it was important.”
He glanced down at the ground for a second and then took her hands, weaving her fingers with his. “Us.”
“Us?”
He nodded, took a deep breath, and then said, “I’m in love with you, Piper. I have been for a while now. Since that night at the bar, maybe even before that. I don’t know exactly when it started, but I do know that I’m so in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t do anything except miss you and wish I’d done things differently.”
“Beau.” She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall. “I’m in love with you, too.” She felt instantly lighter as soon as the words were out of her mouth, and for a moment they simply stared at each other, bright lights flashing above them, people weaving around them. It was the most honest thing she’d said in weeks. Months, even. She’d fallen for Beau, even when she hadn’t meant to.
He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “Piper. God, Piper.” He sighed. “The day you told me about moving here, I’d planned to ask you to come with me to Seattle.”
She let out a soft gasp. “Really?”
“Yeah. But when you told me about your new job and this amazing opportunity, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It would’ve been selfish. I want you to live your dream.”
“And I want you to live yours.”
“Baby, my dream is you. Being with you.”
He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, slow and sweet, and it was a kiss that felt like coming home. Like everything she’d been missing for weeks now. Happiness exploded inside her even as she didn’t know how they’d move forward. But maybe they could find a way. Beau loved her, and she loved him. Love was what mattered. Everything else was details, as far as she was concerned.
She wove her fingers into his hair, skimming against the brim of his hat and almost knocking it off. It felt stiff and new against her fingers, and she had the sudden urge to see it. Breaking the kiss, she pulled back a little, turning the hat around so that it faced forward. She gasped when the bright orange New York Mets logo came into view.
“Why are you wearing a Mets hat?” she asked, her fingers trembling as hope soared through her.
Beau grinned, his eyes sparkling in the flashing lights. “Because I’m going to be their shortstop next season.”
“What? What about the Mariners? The $100 million deal?” she asked breathlessly.
“You’re not in Seattle, and I already have plenty of money. I don’t need more. What I do need is you.”
“Are you serious? You’d give that up to come be here with me?”
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face. “I don’t feel like I’m giving anything up, Piper. If I’ve got you, I have everything I need.”
She broke into a wide smile, pressing her face into his hand. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe this is real. You’re really willing to do this for me?”
“Yeah, Piper. I love you. I want you to chase your dreams, and I want to be by your side while you do it. What we have is something I never thought I’d have in my life, and I’m not willing to let it go. I’m not willing to let you go.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as her heart swelled in her chest. “I missed you so much. The entire time we were together, I wanted it to be more. To be real. To be permanent, but I was too scared to ask. Too scared I’d push you away if you knew how much I wanted a future with you. But I love you, Beau. I do. And I want to be with you.”
He closed his eyes and nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “I missed you, too. I never want to miss you like that again.”
“Me neither.”
He kissed her, long and deep, and it felt as though time had come to a complete standstill. The past was behind them. It didn’t matter anymore who’d they’d been or what they’d done, or even what they’d once wanted. Not when the future, golden and bright and full of promise, stretched ahead of them.
Theirs for the taking.
THE END
Thank you so much for reading Beau and Piper’s story! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like a little more Beau and Piper, be sure to sign up for my newsletter to get access to their bonus epilogue! If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. They help authors more than you know. And keep reading to jump right in to Scoring Position, Christian Hale’s story!
Scoring Position
-Excerpt-
“Good afternoon and welcome back to this NBC Sports broadcast of your Dallas Longhorns against the visiting Boston Red Sox. I’m Wayne Hopkins, and with me, as always, is Ron Whittaker. We’re through to the top of the fifth, and it’s been a close one, with the Red Sox leading 4-3.”
“Not only has it been a close one, but it’s been a hot one,” says Ron, wiping at his brow as he grins at the camera trained on them in the broadcasting booth. “It’s over 100 degrees here today, and these soaring temperatures have got to be affecting the players.”
“Oh, without a doubt. It’s not easy to focus when you feel like you’re melting, I can tell you that much. As we head into the top of the fifth, let’s send it down to Jake Landon, our man on the ground. Jake?”
“The big story this afternoon—besides the heat—is the arrival of third baseman Christian Hale, who was picked up from the Toronto Blue Jays a few days ago. The deal surprised a lot of people given that Hale was named the American League Rookie of the Year after last season and then was traded for nothing more than cash and draft picks. But, after what happened in Toronto, I’m sure he’s looking for a fresh start here in Dallas. However, things haven’t gone his way at the plate this season, and he’s currently in the worst slump of his young career. Today is only his second game in a Longhorns uniform, though, and we all know that this team has the league’s best hitting coach.
“On a lighter note, Hale played college ball with Longhorns first baseman Jordan Miller at Stanford, and they’re still good friends.” A few pictures flash up on the screen, showing Jordan and Christian together in their Stanford uniforms, celebrating wins and goofing around in the dugout. “I’m sure fans are eager for him to bring some of that Rookie of the Year energy to the team. And now I’m going to get out of this heat and go check on my wife. Ron, Wayne, back to you.” Jake grins at the camera, charming as always.
Ron and Wayne both chuckle. “For anyone who doesn’t know, Jake Landon is married to Longhorns hitting coach Abby Gossman-Landon, and they’re currently expecting their first child later this summer. We’re very excited for them, and we’re sure the fans are too.”
“And speaking of the newest Longhorn, he’s headed to the plate to lead off this fifth inning, and I’m sure the Longhorns are looking for some offensive action so they can get the lead back.”
Christian flexed his fingers around the bat, his hands sweating inside his batting gloves. The heat was relentless, merciless, the sun beat
ing down on him from above and making all of Dell Park feel like a goddamn oven. He wasn’t used to this kind of oppressive heat. He’d grown up near San Francisco; he was used to gentle breezes and cool nights, not the swampy humidity and blazing sun he was dealing with now. As if he needed another problem on his plate. He was already dealing with the absolute worst slump of his career, his reputation was tarnished, and his future was in question. At twenty-six, only two seasons into his MLB career.
Fuck.
He flexed his fingers again and fell into his stance, his eyes on the pitcher’s mound sixty feet away. This was his third time at bat today. His third look at the Red Sox pitcher and what he had. That should be enough to let him get a read on what was coming his way.
Should be.
A curveball came flying at him and he swung, chasing it when he knew he should’ve let it go. It kissed the outside corner of the plate as he missed it by an inch, maybe more.
The umpire called the strike and Christian stepped back from the plate, tapping the bat against his shoes, trying to block everything out. The heat, the worry that he’d peaked during his first year in the big leagues, the residual embarrassment clinging to him after everything that had happened in Toronto. He blew out a breath and stepped back up to the plate, sweat streaming down his back. This time the pitch was a change-up that looked like it would be low and inside, and he scooted back from the plate, but the umpire called strike two.
Christian’s grip on the bat tightened, frustration rolling through him. “Had to jump out of the way of that one,” he muttered.
The umpire, a veteran named Bill North, chuckled. “Caught the inside corner. Good pitch.”
Christian didn’t say anything more, just shook his head and fell back into his stance, and this time he couldn’t seem to quiet his thoughts. They were too damn loud, the things he’d heard said about him and to him playing through his mind on a loop.
