The Proposition

by Hayley, Elizabeth

  “Everything’s fine. I didn’t—” His hand gently squeezing her shoulder stopped her from saying anymore.

  “I know you didn’t. Why don’t you take a break and let me handle this?”

  After giving Paul a nod of appreciation and getting her purse from the back, she headed for the door. When she passed the table where she’d been moments before, she saw Paul handing over the table’s bill. He was doing something so uncharacteristically Paul: He was kicking out paying customers.

  It’s not like he hadn’t before. But this . . . girl hadn’t gotten too loud or showed any sort of physical aggression. She’d simply made a rude comment, and Paul had taken Ryan’s side, protected her even though she didn’t need protection. It brought on a surge of emotion that Ryan struggled to keep inside as she headed for the door.

  She could already sense her eyes welling up with all the feelings that had been threatening to bubble over since she’d broken up with Ben. Her steps were heavy and urgent as she rushed for the door. Her head throbbed with the need to let her emotion escape. And as she pushed open the heavy door, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the outside air.

  Until something stopped the door’s progress and nearly pushed her back with the force of it.

  “Shit,” she heard a deep, muffled voice say.

  If she hadn’t been fired before, she sure as hell would be after injuring a customer. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” she began, slipping out the door. “I didn’t mean to . . . Are you okay?” Her eyes rose up the length of the body standing in front of her. He wore a dark gray suit, his jacket open to reveal a crisp white dress shirt with the top few buttons unbuttoned. And despite the fact that the man’s hand covered his face and he was leaning over slightly, she recognized him anyway. How could she not?

  “Ben,” she said, almost gasping at the sight of him. “What . . . What are you doing here?”

  * * *

  Her voice came out as a whisper, and if it weren’t for the fact that Ben was used to playing hockey through much greater pain than this, he might not have heard her at all. Once he was certain he wasn’t bleeding, he brought his hand down from where it had been on his face and straightened himself. If he was going to try to talk to her, he sure as hell wouldn’t have much luck bent over like a wounded animal.

  But when he rose to look at her, the expression on her face didn’t match the softness of her voice when she’d said his name. There was a hardness to her eyes, a rigidness to her jaw. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been expecting it.

  He cleared his throat and steadied his voice, not wanting her to hear his nerves. Now that she was in front of him, he wasn’t sure of the best way to begin. So he decided to go with whatever came to mind first. “I’m sorry,” he said. That’s the best you could come up with?

  “You said that already, remember?”

  “Yeah. I did. But I’m sorry for a whole lot more than telling my family about . . . our arrangement.”

  Letting out a bitter laugh, she leaned back against the brick exterior of the building. “God, I’m so fucking stupid. To think we were anything more than that. That I meant anything more than that to you. All I was to you was a purchase that gave you some temporary relief from your family.”

  “You weren’t a purchase. Is that really what you think you were to me?” He knew he’d hurt her. But Jesus, the idea of her thinking she was some material item he’d bought made him sick to his stomach.

  He hated the way she dropped her gaze to the cracked concrete beneath them, like it hurt her to even look at him. “Then tell me, Ben. What was I to you?”

  He wanted to reach out to her, wrap her up in his arms, and hold her until her pain stopped. “You were everything to me,” he said. His voice came out husky with emotion. “You still are. And it hurts like fucking hell to know I threw it all away. That I made you feel . . . God, I don’t even want to think about what it must have felt like to hear me say that.”

  He had the urge to put a thumb under her chin and guide her face up to look at him, but the last thing she probably wanted was for him to touch her.

  Her heard her sniff before she said, “I can’t do this now. I’m on a break.” She pointed with her thumb over her shoulder. “I need to get back soon.”

  “Okay,” he said. His voice was calm, understanding. “You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I need you to know some things. I need you to know how much I miss you and how sorry I am. I’m sorry, Ryan. For so much. I’m sorry I assumed you were something you weren’t, I’m sorry I told my family I used you to impress them. But what I’m most sorry about is never telling you I loved you because, Christ . . .” This time he couldn’t help moving toward her and putting a hand on her cheek, wanting to remember what her skin felt like even if it was for the last time. “Ryan, I love you so fucking much.” At his words, her eyes lifted so they locked with his. “But of all the things I have to apologize for, there’s one thing I’ll never be sorry about.”

  Her voice was low, soft as she uttered, “What?”

  “I’m not sorry about us. What we had . . . It was real. And it was good. And if there’s one thing I learned from everything that’s happened, it’s that I’m done running.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes feeling the pressure of hidden tears.

  “There’s no taking back what you said, Ben. No taking back how it made me feel.”

  “I know there isn’t.”

  “I can’t forget about that.”

  “I’m not asking you to,” he said quickly.

  Her eyes pinched together as she studied his face. “Then what are you asking?”

  “I’m asking for a second chance. For you to decide that what we had is worth another try.”

  “You expect me to pretend none of that ever happened so you can start with a clean slate?”

  “We. So we can start with a clean slate.”

  “You think changing a pronoun makes a difference? It doesn’t. Because the truth of the matter is that we didn’t cause this. You did. So you’re the one who’s going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

  “I know that. I’ve been beating myself up about it since it happened. And I deserve every ounce of pain I’ve caused myself.” His hands found hers, his fingers grazing her skin lightly, cautiously. “But you don’t,” he said. “You don’t deserve any of what I’ve put you through. All the pain I’ve caused, the heartbreak. You shouldn’t have to go through any of it.” She inhaled deeply before letting out a long sigh. “I know you don’t need me—that I could leave right now and you’d go on with your life and be fine. You always are. But you deserve better than fine. You deserve to be happy. And even though I made you incredibly sad, I’m confident I can make you incredibly happy too. If you let me.”

  “Ben, I don’t . . .”

  “Look at me. Look at me and tell me you’ll be happier without me. If you can do that, I’ll leave right now and you’ll never see me again.” Her eyes raised to meet his, and he could see the sadness in them. But he thought he also saw a glimmer of hope that had been missing until now. “So tell me, Ryan. Will you be happier without me?”

  She continued to look at him, her eyebrows pressing closer together. “Is it true?” she said.

  He shook his head, confused. “Is what true?”

  “That you loved me.”

  His lips lifted into a tight smile. There it was—the hope he’d seen. She couldn’t let him walk away. “No,” he said. “I didn’t love you. I still love you.”

  He saw her wipe away a lone tear from her cheek and give him a smile of her own. “Why do you have to be so damn charming?”

  Ben shrugged a shoulder. “It makes up for all the shitty stuff.”

  This time it was Ryan who lifted a hand to his face. “It’s not all shitty stuff.”

  Ben huffed a laugh. “Really? Because I feel pretty shitty.”

  Ryan smiled. “That only shows what a good man you are.”

&nbs
p; He was going to ask what she meant, but then her lips were on his. And as he wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss, he decided asking could wait.

  She pulled away and rested her head against his cheek. “I love you too,” she said softly.

  Ben hugged her tighter. “Enough to forgive me and give us a chance to start over?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “All that.”

  And then they were kissing again like they had all the time in the world. Because they did.

  Chapter Forty

  As Ryan sat in one of the seats behind home plate and watched the grounds crew rake and water the dirt on the diamond while ignoring the grass, she wondered why sports were so confusing. She and Ben had watched Gabe’s team play a couple times on TV, and she thought watching the infield dry would be a more entertaining way to pass the evening. Maybe it’d be different if Gabe was playing, but he’d decided not to risk further injury by trying to return and play in what would be his last season. Which was why they were here. It was the Premieres’ last home game and they were honoring Gabe in recognition of his retirement. A few days prior, Ryan had asked Ben if they could leave after they acknowledged Gabe, and he looked at her like she was insane.

  “We don’t leave ballgames early,” he’d said.

  “That’s dumb” had been her response, though she’d been unable to hide her smile to show she was teasing.

  “I’ll show you dumb,” Ben had said before he began tickling her, which had quickly led to . . . other things.

  She relaxed back into her seat—it had supposedly become a tradition for the guys to sit behind home plate whenever they watched Gabe play—and leaned into Ben, resting her head on his shoulder. If she was going to be forced to watch baseball, she may as well at least enjoy the company. Jace was trying to convince Aly that his meal was actually healthy because he’d also ordered peanuts, and everyone knew nuts were a good fat. And his popcorn, well, that was practically a vegetable. Ryan snorted when Aly began to yell at him. The wink Ryan saw him shoot Ben let her know that Jace was intentionally winding Aly up.

  She felt Ben chuckle against her, but other than that he’d been pretty quiet most of the day. She tilted her head so she could look up at him. It was a view she knew she’d never tire of. Ryan wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to deserve the beautiful man sitting beside her. And while they’d had quite a few things to work through after he’d shown up at Daisy’s almost two months prior, getting to know one another without the pretext of it being something else had mostly been . . . wonderful.

  He still threw his shit everywhere and listened to more nineties’ R&B than Ryan considered healthy, and while those things drove her insane whenever she spent time at his place, she also kind of loved them. She hadn’t had someone to get annoyed at in a long time. There was a kind of peace in her irritation—a solace that she’d needed more than she’d known.

  Ben had also given her something she’d had precious little of since her grandparents died: time. She’d still worked—as a waitress in a regular restaurant—because she hadn’t wanted to be dependent on him. That thought didn’t sit well with her. And he’d given her time to decide where she wanted to go from there, which, it turned out, was to live with him in Denver during his season. She already had a job out there and was enjoying the change in scenery.

  And as she continued to study the hard line of his jaw that was outlined by the short beard he’d grown back in, she was overwhelmed—as she always was—by how much she loved this man. It felt almost desperate at times, and the feeling would be scary if it didn’t feel so right. But tonight there was something very not right about the picture in front of her. “You okay?” she asked.

  Ben sighed deeply before turning his head slightly so he could drop a kiss on her forehead. He didn’t say anything right away, but that was okay. She could wait.

  * * *

  Ben tried to reason with himself and his negative headspace. There was no logical explanation for his feelings. He was here with one of his best friends, watching his other best friend being honored for the great contribution he’d made to the team he’d spent his entire career with. He was also sitting beside the woman he loved more than anything.

  More than anything.

  That was the crux of his issue. He loved Ryan more than anything—including hockey. Luckily for him, she’d agreed to come to Denver with him so he still got to have both. But Gabe was letting it all go. And Ben couldn’t figure it out; because as far as he knew, Gabe didn’t love anything more than baseball. When he’d tried to talk to Gabe about it, all the infuriating man had said was that he had something in the works and not to worry about him. But he wouldn’t say what he had in the works. And since Gabe had always seemed biologically incapable of keeping a secret, it made Ben worry.

  He shifted a little so he could look down at Ryan and answer her question. “Me, Jace, and Gabe bonded because we were all singularly focused on being the best.” He took a deep breath and let his eyes sweep over the field, at Jace, and back at Ryan. “It feels like we’re all becoming such different people.”

  Ryan sat up and threaded her fingers through his. “My grandmother met my grandfather when she was fourteen years old. They barely spent a day apart from then until they died. I once asked her how they did it. I mean, fourteen? People change so much from who they are as teenagers to who they become as adults. And you know what she said?” She didn’t wait for Ben to answer, but she offered him a small smile before she continued. “She said that they grew up together, and it made all the difference. Because instead of trying to fit their lives together as adults, they entwined their lives together along the way.” Ryan slipped her arms around Ben and hugged him tight. “You guys are like that. Your stories are so entwined, your friendship so vital to who you are as people, that nothing can break it now. You’re stuck with each other.” Her smile widened. “Like you’re stuck with me.”

  Ben studied her face for a moment, wondering how the hell he’d gotten so lucky, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. “I wouldn’t want to be stuck with anyone else.”

  “Good,” she whispered before kissing him again.

  The announcer’s voice interrupted them, and they broke apart slowly, smiles still plastered to their faces. And when the announcer told the crowd that it was a special night—that they were saying goodbye to one of their own—the stadium grew nearly silent. The booming voice said, “For the last time, let’s hear it for one of the best shortstops in Premieres’ history, Gabriel Torres,” and everyone shot to their feet, applauding and shouting for Gabe.

  Ben watched Gabe walk out of the dugout, wearing his uniform even though he wouldn’t be taking the field, and tip his hat to the crowd. Then Gabe turned and faced them, causing Jace and Ben to both go still. Gabe put his hat over his heart before pushing it back toward them.

  Ben jerked a nod to his best friend as he put his arm around his girlfriend, his heart feeling so full he thought it might burst. And in that moment, Ben knew that everything was going to be just fine.

  Acknowledgments

  Sarah Younger, we’ll start with you because without you this book wouldn’t be out today. Thanks for having our backs through all of it and for pretending to believe us when we say we’ll meet deadlines.

  Thank you to Eileen Rothschild for helping to make sure that this book got out to the world as soon as possible. And to everyone at St. Martin’s Press, thank you for helping us make The Proposition the best it could be.

  To our Padded Roomers, especially Becky, Kris, and Megan, thank you for helping us every step along the way. We see all your posts every day and each and every one means the world to us.

  To Erik, Mya, and Mason: Thank you for all the love you give me every day. You inspire me to push myself beyond what I ever thought was possible.

  To Hayley: Thank you for dreaming big even when I tell you not to. You’ve kept this ride on the track long beyond when I would’ve veered off track on my ow
n. Maybe in a future life, I’ll be as great as you are, but probably not. Love ya.

  To Nick and Nolan: I couldn’t love two guys more than I love the two of you. Nick, you’re the best Daddy, husband, and friend, and I love you more each day. Nolan, thank you for finally understanding that writing is one of Mommy’s jobs and for letting me open a computer next to you without smashing all the keys.

  To Elizabeth: Thanks for doing almost all the edits this time while I was on vacation and for always calming me down when I think we won’t meet a deadline. One day I’ll make it up to you. (You know that’s just a saying, right?)

  About the Author

  Elizabeth Hayley is actually “Elizabeth” and “Hayley,” two friends who love reading romance novels to obsessive levels. This mutual love prompted them to put their English degrees to good use by penning their own. The product is Pieces of Perfect, their debut novel. They learned a ton about one another through the process, like how they clearly share a brain and have a persistent need to text each other constantly (much to their husbands’ chagrin).

  They live with their husbands and kids in a Philadelphia suburb. Thankfully, their children are still too young to read.

  Elizabeth Hayley’s writing motto is best captured by the words of Patrick Dennis: “I always start with a clean piece of paper and a dirty mind.”

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