Southern Heat (Game On Book 2)

by Parker Kincade

  “You’re damn right I don’t understand.” Tyler bounced his fists against his temples, a frustrated growl rattling his throat. She didn’t get it. She didn’t fucking get it. “I have my own shit to deal with. Shit that doesn’t have anything to do with you, either. Does that mean you aren’t interested in what’s going on in my life? Where do you draw the line? What about the next time you feel as though you need to do something on your own, Gabriella? Am I just supposed to deal with you shutting me out?”

  “I honestly didn’t mean to upset you, Tyler. I’ll include you from now on. In everything, I swear. But—”

  “No. No buts, Gabriella.” He muttered a string of curses. “How am I supposed to believe you? This whole time … I had myself convinced it was just me. That if there was something going on, you’d trust me enough to talk to me about it. That’s what couples do, right? They talk. They share. Lean on each other in times of need. Jesus fucking Christ, Gabriella. I asked you. I fucking asked you if you were in this with me. You looked me straight in the eye.” He scrubbed his face again, fighting for control. “You looked me straight in the eye, and you lied to me.”

  His heart hammered as he realized the truth. He didn’t know her at all. She hadn’t shared a damn thing about her life. She hadn’t trusted him enough to let him in.

  “I don’t know how to make you understand.” Tears rolled down her face. “When Roger wanted to move to Arkansas—”

  “I seem to remember you telling me not to compare you with anyone,” he interrupted. “Yet you can stand there and compare me to Roger?”

  Her breath hitched. “I’m not.”

  “No?” How could she be so blind? “Why didn’t you talk to me about this before you made your decision?”

  She sniffed and swiped at her cheeks. “I told you. Because it was something I needed to do on my own.”

  “Bullshit, Gabriella. If you can’t be honest with me, at least be honest with yourself. You kept all of this to yourself because you thought I’d try to influence your decision for my own benefit.”

  Gabriella frowned. “I—”

  “Tell me something, Gabriella. Does Lillian know?”

  “What?”

  “Does. Lillian. Know? Did you talk to her about the move?”

  The way her gaze hit the floor told him what he needed to know. Of course Lillian knew. That’s why she acted as though she’d never see him again. Because she knew he wouldn’t be back to visit Gabriella in Arkansas.

  He muttered an oath. Gabriella didn’t care about him at all. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about what was going on in her life; she just didn’t want to talk to him.

  She had decided he was no better than Roger without even giving him a chance.

  “So, you confide in your neighbor, but not the man you’re in a relationship with. I don’t know what you want from me.” When she tried to interject, he held up a palm. “Let me finish.” A sad, exhausted chuff of air left his lungs. “I would’ve moved, you know. I was planning to talk to you about it tonight. I wanted your thoughts about my buying a house here because I care about what you think. I also have a healthy respect for how, as a couple, our lives are intertwined. How decisions made can affect both of us.” He drummed a finger against the counter, choosing his next words carefully. “I hate the idea of living so close to my father again—even if it’s just for the off-season—but I would’ve done it. I would’ve put myself in that man’s path every single day as opposed to asking you to give up your work, your life here.”

  No matter what city he played for in the future, he’d never expect her to sacrifice what she’d worked so hard for. Not for him. Not ever.

  “I’ve done my fair share of skirt chasing in the past, but I’m not Roger. I’d never hurt you the way he did. When I told you I wanted to see where we could take our relationship, I meant it. I guess that means something different to me than it does to you. I can’t guarantee where the future will take us. All I asked for was a chance.”

  “Tyler, please.”

  “I can’t be here with you right now.” His head pounded. He was angry and hurt and knew nothing productive would come from him staying tonight. And he refused to spend the evening fighting with her. He had a game to prepare for. The press would have him under a microscope tomorrow, and he couldn’t afford to screw it up.

  Focus, Brady. Time to get your head back in the game.

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “Baltimore.” He grabbed his bag and headed out the front door.

  * * *

  Tyler’s phone dinged, indicating he had a new message. He didn’t need to look to know what the text would say.

  We need to talk. Call me. Please.

  The same text Gabriella had sent him every day for the last ten days. Wait. Not true. She’d added the please when he still hadn’t responded by the fifth day.

  The plea had worked, although he’d bet not in the way she’d expected, since he’d yet to call.

  He picked up his phone and shot her a text back.

  Not yet. Soon. The same message he’d been sending since she added the please.

  His anger had cooled by the time he left New York for a ten-day road trip, leaving him hurt and confused. Two emotions he had no idea what to do with. Until he had a handle on how he felt, he didn’t have anything to say.

  So, when his phone rang a few seconds later, he had no business lunging for it. None at all. He wasn’t ready to talk to Gabriella, so he shouldn’t have been so disappointed to find Devon’s name on the screen.

  “What?”

  Devon chuckled on the other end. “Hey, dickhead. It’s so nice to hear how much you miss me. How’s Atlanta?”

  “Hot.”

  “At least you don’t have a game today.”

  There was that. “But I do have a flight to catch. Did you just call to shoot the shit or what?”

  “Ah. I can see your attitude is still in the shitter. Guess you haven’t pulled your head out of your ass long enough to call Gabby.”

  He never should’ve told Devon about the fight.

  “Gabriella,” Tyler corrected. She’d never actually mentioned which name she preferred, but Tyler didn’t like the nickname coming from Devon’s lips. “And my head isn’t in my ass. I’m not the one who screwed up here.”

  “Whatever. You’re pissy. I’ll get to the point. I need tickets for the game tomorrow night.”

  “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “Fine.”

  “The good ones, asshole. Somewhere air conditioned.”

  “How about your place in Boston?” Which reminded him of Gabriella. She could be in Boston by now. Where was her new place? Was it nice?

  God, maybe he did have his head up his ass. He’d been pissed she hadn’t treated him with the respect he deserved as her partner, then he basically walked away, leaving her to deal with a cross country move by herself. Alone.

  If she’d even moved yet. Maybe she hadn’t. She might still be in Arkansas. He didn’t know because he hadn’t bothered to talk to her.

  Fuck.

  “Ha, ha. See ya tomorrow, buddy. Give us a good game. Don’t lose.”

  20

  They lost.

  Tyler sat hunched over in the chair in front of his locker, elbows resting against his thighs, defeat a visceral weight on his back. The Empire’s chance at the playoffs dwindled by the day. If they didn’t get their shit together, they’d be left with the first less-than-mediocre finish in recent New York history.

  “Hey, Brady.”

  Tyler glanced over his shoulder, making eye contact with the team manager. “What’s up, Skip?”

  “You looked a little stiff out there. Make sure you see Eddie before you head out. He’s waiting for you in the back.”

  “I’ll do it.” After he showered the grime and stench from his skin. Too bad he couldn’t shower away the emptiness in his chest while he was at it. As well as the indecision that plagued his bra
in.

  He needed to talk to Gabriella. Problem was, he didn’t know what to say. She felt perfectly justified in shutting him out. Maybe she’d been right. Maybe their relationship wasn’t far enough along for them to be sharing major life decisions. And maybe he was making excuses for her because being without her left a big, Gabriella-shaped hole in his life. A hole no other woman could possibly fill.

  “Hey, man.” Garrett straddled the chair beside him, crossing his arms to rest along the back. “Tough game.”

  Tyler swiped a towel over his head, leaving it to dangle around his neck. “We played like shit.”

  Garrett didn’t argue. “We did. It happens. Although the dinger you hit in the seventh was impressive. How’s the shoulder holding up?”

  “It’s better, but still not there. I’m rethinking the second surgery. I could do it in the off-season. Be ready to go by spring training.” Although he was hesitant to do anything until he knew where he’d be playing.

  “Have you talked to Gabriella about it?”

  Tyler scowled. “No.”

  “Have you talked to her at all?”

  “You know I haven’t.” The motherfucker asked him the same question every day.

  “So what’s the plan? You gonna keep going around acting like a jackass to anyone stupid enough to try to get a word? I swear, if you snap at one more reporter, your playboy status will officially be changed to entitled asshole.”

  “Since when do we have heart-to-hearts in the locker room? Being in love has turned you into a pussy, you know that?” If Tyler was gonna be shackled in the land of dickdom, he might as well live down to the title.

  Garrett didn’t flinch. “Being in love has turned me into a man, asswipe. You should try it, since you’re the one acting like a fool.”

  Tyler heaved a frustrated breath. Leave it to Garrett to call him on his own crap. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to her.” Tyler glanced around to make sure none of the other guys were within ear-shot. He didn’t need his private life scattered around the locker room.

  “You could start with ‘hi.’ Maybe apologize for waiting so long to call.”

  He’d already gotten that far with the conversation plan in his head, so he got to the heart of it. “She said it was a one-time thing, but I don’t know. If she did it once, she could do it again. Call me old-fashioned, but I’ve recently realized I need to be a part of my woman’s life, not just a fixture in her bed. I need to know she trusts me enough to confide in me.” He looked Garrett square in the eye. “My parents do that shit—live separate lives, have separate interests and friends. While it seems to work for them—and lord knows I can understand why my mom would choose to live that way—that’s not the kind of relationship I want.”

  “Does Gabriella know you love her?” Tyler wasn’t sure of his expression, but whatever crossed his face made Garrett laugh. “I’ve known you a long time, Ty. I’ve seen you go through women like some men change socks. Hell, I’ve seen you shuffle through three or four in one night. But I’ve never seen you this jacked up over anyone—not even what’s-her-name, that chick you actually dated for a few months?”

  “Heather.”

  “Right. Whatever. Good riddance to that bitch. What I’m trying to say is Gabriella is different. I know it. You know it. She deserves to know it, too.”

  “I haven’t told her.” Hell, he hadn’t realized it himself until a few days ago.

  “You’ve got some pretty heavy expectations for a guy who hasn’t made any promises. If you love her, you’ve gotta say it.”

  “I love her.”

  “Not to me, you moron. To her. Give her a reason to believe you’re in this for the long haul. That you’re not going anywhere. Because at this point, it seems to me that’s exactly what you’ve done. She made a mistake, and you walked out. Am I right?”

  “Fuck off, G.” Tyler’s lip curled at the humor in Garrett’s gaze. His friend was right. He’d let this go on for too long. “God, I hate you.”

  Garrett clapped him on the shoulder and stood. “I can live with that. Call the girl, Ty. Work this shit out. And take a shower, man. You smell.”

  Tyler took Garrett’s second bit of advice first.

  He finished his shower. He pulled on a pair of gym shorts, not bothering with a shirt. He wandered through the clubhouse to the bank of rooms used for therapy. Eddie worked him over, then left him to sit with electrodes stimulating the muscles under the ice pack strapped to his shoulder.

  With nothing else to do for the next few minutes, Tyler played different scenarios through his head. He’d avoided Gabriella long enough no simple phone call or text would do. What he had to say needed to be said in person. He had games the next two days and then the team had an off day. He’d have batting practice and would need to work with the trainers, but he could get away for a few hours. If she was in Boston. He’d have to call Matt to find out for sure. If she was still in Arkansas … well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Call her, at least. Let her know he was ready to talk, but wanted to do it in person.

  The door opened and TJ Montgomery stepped through. Wearing his trademark jeans and cowboy boots, TJ gave him a wide grin. “Hi, son. How’s it going?”

  Tyler’s chest warmed. TJ called all the guys on the team son, but the truth of it was TJ had been more of a father to him than his own. “Fine, sir. What brings you down here?”

  “Thought we were overdue for a discussion.”

  Tyler’s gut tightened. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Sure. Have a seat. I’ve got a few more minutes on the juice.”

  TJ swung a chair around and sat, facing him. “The shoulder feeling okay?”

  He was starting to hate that question. “It’s been a little sore the last few days, but we’re just off a long road trip.” Since he respected TJ immensely, he went for full disclosure. “I’ve been considering a second surgery—in the off-season, of course. To break up some adhesions. The doctors believe it could help with my mobility.”

  “They told me you were adamantly against having another surgery.”

  “I was at first. I’m not thrilled with the idea, but I thought you should know it’s been on my mind. I’d like to wait to see where I am by the end of the season.” With his shoulder and his contract.

  “I’m not worried. Your stats have looked good since you’ve been back. Better than we expected straight off the DL. I’m proud of how hard you’ve worked. We all are.”

  Pride swelled his chest. He didn’t need the acknowledgement since it was his job and all, but it sure as hell felt good to hear. “Thank you, sir.”

  TJ gave him a sharp nod. “No need to thank me. You’ve done all the work. Let me ask you something, son. Are you happy here with the Empire?”

  The question shocked him. “Of course. Have I given you reason to believe otherwise?” Granted, his mood hadn’t been stellar, but he’d busted his ass on the field.

  “No, not at all. I just needed to hear it from you before I gave you this.” TJ held a slip of yellow paper, a piece from a legal pad of some sort, folded in two.

  “What’s this?” Shit, was he being released? His heart pounded in his ears. His lungs threatened to seize.

  His damn hands shook as he took the note. He slid his thumb over the flap, revealing its contents. 157/6 was written in thick, black strokes, as though TJ had used a sharpie.

  “The terms of your new contract.” Permanent ink signified his future with the Empire. “I sent the details to your agent a few minutes ago, but I wanted to bring you the news myself.”

  Tyler tried to wrap his head around the numbers. $157 million dollars for six years.

  Holy fucking shit.

  “You’ve earned it,” TJ said. “I expect you to keep on earning it.”

  Tyler wrestled out of the ice pack and ripped the electrodes from his shoulder. They’d stopped zinging him several minutes ago anyway. Now, his body zinged for a whole other reason.

  Holy fucking shit.

/>   He extended his hand. “Thank you, sir. I will. You know I will.”

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  TJ shook his hand, then pulled him in for a quick slap on the back. “Congratulations, Tyler. Once the paperwork is complete, you’ll officially play out your career with the Empire.”

  His dream had come true. One of them, anyway. After he made a quick phone call to Matt, he’d get started on the second.

  * * *

  Gabriella had never been so nervous in her life. She’d been waiting for over an hour. Most of the players and the media had already cleared out.

  She turned to Devon, who was talking to a guy named Garrett—Tyler’s teammate and friend from college, Devon had said.

  “Are you sure he didn’t slip past us?” she asked softly.

  Garrett reassured her with a shake of his head. “He was heading to see Eddie after his shower. He’s probably finishing up. He’ll be out any minute.”

  “Who’s Eddie?” Maybe he was one of the coaches.

  “One of the team therapists.”

  “Oh.” Gabriella tried not to be jealous about another therapist working on Tyler’s shoulder. Even though she was technically out of the business now, she still felt as though any therapy Tyler needed should be her responsibility. “Is Tyler okay?”

  Devon squeezed her shoulder. “He’s fine, Gabby. You saw him out there tonight. Quit worrying.”

  Easy for him to say. Devon wasn’t the one Tyler was trying to avoid.

  She’d practically begged Devon for his help, but she hadn’t intended to surprise Tyler in front of an audience. Mainly, because if he walked away from her again, she didn’t want to share her humiliation with Devon, and now Garrett.

  She’d asked Devon for Tyler’s address, hoping to go there and catch Tyler at home. Alone. It had been Devon’s idea to get the game tickets, and then he contacted Garrett to arrange getting them into the clubhouse.

  So here she was.

  The dramatic flair wasn’t her taste, but she’d been desperate. She fucked up. She had to make it right.