Top Notch (Man on Top Book 1)

by Nicole Richard

  “You’d seriously dump your sister with a bunch of strangers after I traveled this far to keep you company from your hurting heart, while your boyfriend—”

  “Ex,” I corrected, the two letters tasting like acid on my tongue, slowly dripping through the cracks and into my already battered heart.

  “Fine. Whatever. Ex-boyfriend,” she exaggerated. “Is in town?” She gave me that eye.

  I shrugged, not able to comment, and after a bit of silence, I whispered, “I miss him.”

  “I know you do.” She gave me a side hug.

  “Tremendously.” Tears stung my eyes.

  “I bet.”

  “What did I do?” I whispered, my heart shattering all over again.

  “You chased your dreams and turned them into a reality. Nothing wrong with that.” Her voice was soothing, a comfort I didn’t know I needed until that moment.

  “You’re right, but he was a dream I didn’t realize I wanted until I had it. And now that it’s gone . . . I’m lost. Like moving here and taking this position was wrong. Or bad timing. Or something. It doesn’t feel right.”

  “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

  “What can I do? We’re done. He hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts. Last I checked, that’s universal code for stay the fuck out of my life.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe he’s hurting too”—she held one finger up—“and doesn’t know how to process it all? You know men and feelings usually don’t go hand in hand. They act stupid. Make bad decisions. And only after being total assholes, do they realize all they lost. And if they’re smart, grovel back. You know this. There are a million songs to prove it.”

  I laughed as a tear slipped. She was absolutely right; thinking about Levi and confessing to Gabby how much I missed him opened up sharp wounds that never had a chance to properly heal. They were raw, blistered, and once again, painful.

  “Ask me again why I’m here.”

  Looking at her, straight-faced, I repeated, “Why are you here?”

  “Moral support.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Levi

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Hatch hollered, plowing his way through the locker room heading straight for me. “This is the playoffs! You’re missing scoops. Batting like shit—a five-year-old playing T-ball can fucking hit better than the shit you’re doing. What the fuck, man?”

  “The fuck you just say?” I growled. Fire licked up and down my spine, ready to burn through my chest. I got up in his face. How dare he disrespect me in front of the team? “You act like you’ve never missed a scoop coming for you at ninety miles an hour, Ace,” I sneered, sick and tired of him running his goddamn mouth.

  “Do. Your. Fucking. Job!” he roared. A mix of rage and regret covered his red-faced, ugly mug. The whole clubhouse went silent. Not one team member took a chance of getting in the crossfires. “Even your batting average is looking like shit!”

  “Fuck you.” I rushed him. My fist to his jaw sent him stumbling straight back into his locker. Didn’t take too long for him to regain his footing and come charging after me. One crack to the side of my face, he took me to the ground, my shoulder taking the brunt of my fall and not long after his weight was being lifted off me.

  “The fuck is wrong with the two of you?” Chase yelled, shoving Hatch away. He held his hand out to stop me from charging forward while Trevor held Hatch back. “Fucking idiots!” Chase shook his head and threw his hands up. “You two pussies better straighten this the fuck out. We don’t need this shit. Not now. Not when we’re so close.” The muscle in his neck twitched. “Fuck this. I’m out.”

  Pinning a death glare on me, Hatch cupped his jaw and licked the blood from his busted lip. With his free hand, finger pointed at me, he warned, “That was your one and only chance. I love you, brother, but you need to get your head out of your fucking ass. She ain’t worth it.”

  “That’s enough!” Greg’s deep voice boomed. He clapped my shoulder but didn’t let go. “Montgomery. In my office. Now.”

  Ignoring him, I stood there, seething as I faced one of my best friends. One of my brothers. And what I had done. He was right. No excuses. Personal shit didn’t belong on the field, and I let mine get to me. I’d let it affect every single one of my teammates. I’d let it affect my job.

  All night I wondered where she was, if she had found someone new, sitting at home miserable or out on the town living her best life. And all night I played like shit because of it.

  Being in the city, so close and knowing there was no chance in hell I’d see her, short-circuited my brain. I wouldn’t even get into what it did to my poor excuse for a heart. Well, the part she never gave back.

  A month had passed, and I still hadn’t figured out how to process that we were no longer together. I’d just walked out of her life that night, as simple as that; although, it wasn’t that simple at all. It pained me to think I walked away. But my pride had taken the reins.

  What was I expected to do? I confessed that I loved her, asked her to move in with me, bought a forty-thousand-dollar engagement ring, which was in some landfill after I had pitched it into the trash and never dug it back out. I didn’t care; there was no way I would give it to her after that. Bad juju.

  I walked my sorry ass to the manager’s office, thinking this conversation could only go one of two ways: in my favor or not.

  “Have a seat,” Greg deadpanned.

  I dropped into the seat opposite him, resting my arms on the armrest, my eyes focused on his, the tension in the small room thickening each second that ticked by.

  “I’m concerned about you.”

  “No need to be. Hatch was being a prick and I’ve had enough.” I gave him the half-truth.

  “It’s more than that, and you know it,” Greg disagreed.

  Irritated that it had come to this, I squeezed the armrests to hold back from saying words I might regret. I didn’t need an intervention. I had a miserable break-up with my girl, and as shitty as it was to admit, I had taken it out on the wrong people. There. Done. Problem solved. Case closed.

  “Nah, Coach. Just two guys acting like two schoolgirl bitches.” I stood in dismissal only to be shot down.

  “Sit,” he demanded in a definitive no-bullshit tone. I fell back into my chair, my eyes focused on his angry but concerned face. “You want to know the reason I never held true on my promise of shipping one of your sorry asses off to another team?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Damn right, I am.” He eyed me for a minute. “You’re a good guy, Montgomery. And that’s more than most parents can hope for in a child’s significant other. If you made her happy, I wasn’t going to stand in the way of it. Rowan is a bright young woman, capable of making her own decisions without her grumpy old stepdad getting in the way.” He held up one finger. “That’s not to say I wouldn’t get involved and whoop some ass if any man ever tried to hurt her, but you haven’t done that. Not in a way that would warrant me getting involved.” He took a deep breath, the frustration in his expression ebbing. “The two of you need to figure this shit out.”

  “Nothing to figure out. We’re done. She made it perfectly clear when she left.”

  “It’s hurting your game, son.”

  Boy, I wish I could blame my shitty circumstance on a bad month of PMS like women did. My sister used to get away with that shit all the time.

  “Look.” He steepled his hands on the desk and leaned in. “I understand you’re hurting—”

  “Don’t,” I cut him off.

  “Will you just listen, dammit?”

  I didn’t want to, but knew I had to.

  “Whatever happened between the two of you”—he cussed under his breath—“is obviously hurting your game. She’s my daughter, but you’re like a son to me. And I can’t stand to see this affecting you.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” I stood and headed for the door. It was too much to handle all at once
. It was bad enough I came to blows with Hatch; I couldn’t afford to lose it with Greg too.

  “Levi,” he called to my retreating back.

  Stopping, I looked over my shoulder and answered, “Look, Coach. I’m good. Really. I fucked up—I get it, but going forward, I’ll keep my personal shit off the field.” I walked out.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Rowan

  It wasn’t hard to find him in the sea of seated patrons. Greg rose from his seat as soon as he saw Gabby and me approaching. I walked straight into his open arms. He kissed the top of my head and whispered, “Hey there, kiddo. How’s my girl?”

  “Good,” I mumbled, my voice thick with emotion, my eyes stinging with tears, the guilt of being a shitty person taking over my mood.

  “Hey, none of that,” he cooed, seeing right through my lie. I was miserable. “Everything will be okay.”

  I nodded, accepting his words as gospel but didn’t let go. I needed his comfort a little longer. Comfort only a father could give his daughter.

  Finally, Gabby being Gabby broke the silence with, “So what’s good here?” and picked up a leather-bound menu. Greg chuckled and pulled my chair out for me.

  “Thank you.” I took a sip from my water glass. I looked over at my stepdad, wanting so bad to ask him how Levi was doing but thought better of it. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be rejected, again.

  “So, how are you liking the Bay area?”

  I shrugged in an it’s-okay-kind-of-way. “Fine. I haven’t ventured out much, just trying to get a handle on the new office. But from the views I have from my office and apartment, it’s great.”

  He gave me that knowing look. “Fine, like you’re adjusting and taking it one day at a time? Or, fine like I’m adjusting but hate it here?”

  My eyes welled with a fresh wave of tears. I should’ve known he would be straight with me. I also should’ve planned out what I would say. Thank goodness our server came over, giving me a few minutes reprieve to put myself together. I refused to sit there all night and have a crying fest.

  After our orders were taken, and our drinks set in front of us (thank God for alcohol), Greg started with the questions again but with a softer approach.

  “Your mom sends her love, wishes she could come out to visit, but she’s swamped with work. Have you talked to her recently?”

  “I have, and it’s okay. I know how busy she is.” She was one of the best estate lawyers in all of Georgia, hence the reason she was perpetually buried in work. Another trait I had inherited from her. I looked over at Gabby. “And how are things in Chicago? Are you still seeing that guy?” I guzzled my entire glass of wine and stopped a smartly dressed server, asking for a refill.

  “What guy?” Greg quizzed.

  “No one, there’s no one,” she answered, looking distracted.

  “When I saw you last, you said you were talking to someone,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, it didn’t work out.”

  “That’s too bad.” Something about her response and lack of eye contact made me think that was a conversation for later and just the two of us.

  During a short bout of restless silence, I studied Greg as he checked something on his phone, knowing he had firsthand knowledge of Levi taking up all my brain space. Everything that came to mind was centered on Levi. Was he taking advantage of his freedom, acting stupid and reckless like some players were known to do? Had he been with other women, trying to erase me from his memory? My mind said I had no business questioning any of his actions, but my heart told it to shut the hell up.

  Gabby sucked down her fruity drink until her glass was dry, slurping the remnants, and I visualized my mother cringing, only to scold her. I gawked at my sister, she looked at me, and we both broke out in a fit of soft giggles.

  “Mom would’ve had a conniption if she were here right now,” I teased my sister and shook my head. But I knew her childish tactics were all for my benefit. A decoy of sorts.

  I looked at Greg as he set his phone on the table. He gave me a sympathetic smile and not wasting any time, came out with it. “You can ask me, you know.” He squeezed my hand.

  “Ask you what?” I replied curiously, knowing damn well what he meant.

  “About him.”

  “What about him?”

  “All right,” he sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, but you’re my girl. You’re both my girls.” He glanced at Gabby, smiled, and looked back at me. “And I know you’re hurting. It’s clear as day on your pretty face, but you have to know he’s hurting too.”

  “But he’s the one who walked out.” I sat up straight, a little spark of anger firing my temper.

  “Do you think he had a valid reason?” His gentle persuasion and walking-on-eggshells bullshit were starting to annoy me. Wasn’t a father supposed to “go to bat” for his own child?

  “I think he needed to be a man and let me explain. Before that, all I was doing was weighing my options. It was never my intention to leave him behind, but do you think he took a step back and tried seeing it from my point of view?”

  Greg’s focus was off in the distance, not saying a word. Gabby reached under the table and squeezed my hand, offering her silent support. And I was grateful. I knew Greg had to be feeling like he was put in a tight spot—his player and his daughter and how to deal with it all going south.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Gabby pushed to her feet. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

  Greg rose, ever being the gentleman, and I nodded.

  When he sat back down, I took a long deep breath and continued. “Are you saying I shouldn’t have taken the job and given up all I had worked so hard for?”

  “Not at all, sweetheart. It’s just . . . he’s a great guy. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t have much to say about it in the beginning. I knew you two would be a good match. But now, he’s hurting and seems lost, and it’s affecting his game. Maybe if you two talk it out, try to find some closure, then you both can move on.”

  “I see where your loyalties at,” I mumbled and then drank, guilt brimming over my pettiness.

  “Hey, none of that.”

  Move on? Was that possible? I didn’t think so. Why would I want to move on when I was still miserably in love with him? Move on to what? The next guy in line only to get my heart trampled all over again? Was I expected to jump feet first back into the dating scene and add to the list of my mistakes? Yeah, no thanks.

  Levi would not be so selfish in my wishful thinking. Reality was a different story. Had he chosen to stick around, he would’ve seen I never really wanted to leave, but I needed to go through the motions and make myself see he was what I wanted, more than any job offer. But he was determined to walk out that door, not even fighting for us. So, why should I give a damn now?

  And why was my dad defending him?

  Nothing made any sense. He had said himself that if Levi ever hurt me, he would think twice about his position on the team, but I would come first. Having this conversation sure as hell didn’t feel like I even mattered.

  “I feel like you’re here for him,” I spoke softly, sadness seeping through me. The start of stinging tears had me wanting to flee. And before I made a fool of myself, and a scene, I stood with my legs shaking under me. “Will you please let Gabby know I’ll be at home? And if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling very well.” I kissed him on the cheek and walked out.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Levi

  “How’s the jaw?”

  Holding my lowball glass at eye level, I didn’t bother to glance over my shoulder when I countered, “How’s the busted lip?”

  “Eh, I’ve felt worse.”

  His nonchalance earned him a sideward glance, enough so he could see my barely-there fuck-you-smirk and cocked brow. “For a guy who pitches bullets, you sure as shit hit like a little girl.”

  “The fuck I do.” He chuckled and sat on the stool next to me. “That shiner doesn’t look like a girl did it.”
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br />   “Fuck you, dick.” I smirked.

  “Name’s Hatch, not Richard, and with how long we’ve been boys, I thought you would’ve remembered that.”

  He was right. We were boys. Have been for quite some time. So how the fuck did we end up like this?

  Hatch caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another round. We didn’t say much after that. Actually, we didn’t say anything at all. Instead, we acted like two strangers, dealing with our own issues, having a drink in your everyday, out-of-the-way, upscale restaurant and bar. Fancy, but nothing special.

  Another minute passed and the bartender slid our drinks in front of us. Hatch rested his elbow on the dark bamboo bar top and held his drink up. “We good?”

  “Yeah, we’re good.” I tilted my glass toward his and tapped the rim, all forgiven.

  Of course, we’re good. It wouldn’t feel like we were a true family if we didn’t have our disagreements, but we liked to keep the physical altercations to a minimum.

  “So, how’d you find this place?” He jumped right into simple conversation.

  “I told the cabbie to drop me off at his favorite bar.”

  “The guy must’ve been old as shit to drop you off at a place like this.”

  We both laughed.

  “About earlier—” I started.

  “You really do need to get your head out of your ass. The way you were playing tonight . . . I know you’re distracted.”

  Hanging my head, I mumbled, “Yeah. It’s just—”

  “Nothing should matter when you’re out there.”

  “That’s the problem. I know that, but—”

  “No buts. Don’t think for one second I don’t know how you’re feeling.” He eyed me, making sure I understood. “Watching Victoria walk away fucked with me for a long time, longer than I care to admit, but never with my game. When I’m on the field, within those foul lines, the smell of that red dirt, I’m at peace. Nothing and no one can get to me.”

  Deep.

  Hatch made every bit of sense, the reason he was near untouchable when out on the field. That didn’t mean I would be.