by Lynn Stevens
“Yeah, you’re right there. Talking hasn’t been our forte. Good thing we’ve gotten better lately. Promise me one thing,” I said, letting the tears crowd my voice.
“Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t do that again.” I squeezed my eyes shut, imagining him in his bed with nothing on but his boxers. My favorite fantasy. “Please? I need to do this on my own, Devon.”
“I prefer it when you call me Seamus.” His voice ached deep inside.
“Promise me?”
“I won’t help you in your career in any way, shape, or form.” He paused. “Scout’s honor.”
I couldn’t help it. I smiled. “I doubt you were a Scout.”
“Eagle Scout, baby.”
This time I laughed.
“Why’d you run home?” he asked. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I was embarrassed. Ashamed.” I abandoned the couch, taking the afghan with me, and moved into my room. It was only four, but I was exhausted from the cleaning and from the emotional rollercoaster I’d been riding. “I failed. And I didn’t like it.”
“You’re not perfect.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling at how I imagined him sitting straight up in his bed.
“You are to me.”
“Nice save.” I put my head on my pillows and tucked Torty under my arm. “I’m sorry I hung up on you.”
“I doubt it will be the last time. When my inner asshole comes out, he’s the king of the world.” He paused for a moment. “I’m not sorry I got you the interview. But I am sorry I didn’t tell you about it from the beginning.”
“I miss you,” I said, squeezing my stuffed animal close. “We’ve both been so busy. It feels like we haven’t had time to actually be together.”
“Lunch dates are our specialty. Dinner the other night was pretty great, though.”
“Maybe the next lunch could be at my place instead of the student union.” I suppressed a yawn. “I know you’d have to rush back to campus, but some alone time would be nice.”
“More alone time would be fucking fantastic.” He cleared his throat. “Valentine’s Day is Tuesday. We’ll do something then.”
“I have to work that night,” I said, wishing I could call off, but missing all of this week put a serious dent in my bank account.
“So? I’ll come up, sit in your section until you leave. Then we’ll come back to my room, like we’d planned to do last night.”
“I’d like that.” I smiled. “I’ll have Kit make you something special.”
“It’s not the most romantic date. I wish I could wine and dine you instead.”
“Same here. Maybe when I get back on Sunday you could come over. I’ll make you my mom’s famous hot cocoa.”
“I’d like that.”
“Seamus?” I yawned his name. “I’m going to take a nap.”
“Go to sleep. Text me when you’re leaving, okay?”
“I will.”
“Sleep well, Olivia.”
“Thanks, Seamus.”
I set my phone on the nightstand. We were going to be okay. After everything we’d been through over the last month, I knew it in my heart. I closed my eyes and fell into the best sleep I’d had since Christmas break.
…
The family gathered around Bradley at the table, singing “Happy Birthday” completely off-key and not even close to being in sync with each other. It was a Dawson family tradition. Trevor and Nick were the loudest. Jake grumbled the entire time, too old for such nonsense. Adam laughed with his arm around his latest girlfriend. If he brought her home for Bradley’s party, he was serious about her. She was nice and highly intelligent, just perfect for my brother.
The best part was Tony videoing in to sing with us. It wasn’t long enough for me to talk to him, but Bradley got a few minutes. He needed it, too. Bradley never knew Mom, but the guilt he carried was the heaviest on his birthday. It wasn’t his fault she died.
The kitchen grew too crowded. I stepped outside onto the patio with the afghan. Dad had the patio cushions in the attic for winter, but that didn’t deter me. I sat on a metal chair and curled up in the blanket. The fresh air calmed me down.
“There you are,” Henry said as he stepped outside with a bottle of vodka and two glasses. I hadn’t seen him since he showed up on my doorstep and asked me to come back to him.
“What’re you doing here, Henry?”
“Your dad invited me.” He sat in an empty chair and put the bottle on the table. I watched as he filled each glass with two fingers of clear liquid. “And I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“Why?” I took a glass and sipped the ice-cold alcohol. It burned my throat, warming me from the inside.
“Because your family is worried about you after you showed up out of nowhere. I’m worried about you. Your dad told me about JenCar. I’m sorry, Liv. I know how much that internship meant to you.” He sighed and drained his glass. “I thought you might need someone to talk to.”
“I’m fine,” I said, following Henry and draining my glass. He refilled it quickly. “But did you tell him about your last visit?”
Henry laughed. “My moment of weakness? Not a chance.” He tapped the side of his glass. “We’ve been through a lot together. The last time we talked you gave me the verbal smack I needed. So this time I’m going to give you one. But I brought the booze to soften the blow.”
“Oh, this is going to be good,” I said.
“That’s the plan.”
“As long as one thing is clear. This”—I motioned between us—“isn’t going to happen no matter how drunk you get me.”
Henry smiled. “As a soon-to-be married man, I promise you that.”
“Fine.” I took another sip, wishing he’d brought cranberry juice to mix the vodka with.
“Does your dad know you’re working?”
I snorted. “Funny.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” Henry refilled my glass again. “Does he know about…that other guy?”
“His name is Devon, and no.” I sipped the next glass. Getting drunk at my brother’s birthday party wasn’t part of the plan.
“Why didn’t you tell him? About the job and the guy?” Henry spun the glass on its edge.
“He wouldn’t approve.” But even as I said that I wondered if it was true.
“Maybe. Maybe he would.” Henry shrugged. “What’s going on with you?”
I settled against the back of the chair, placing the glass on the table. It was a fair question. It deserved a fair answer. “I don’t know. I thought…I thought I had everything figured out, you know? Even after you dumped me, I followed the path I’d planned. Somehow it got all fucked up. I hate things fucked up. Order is so much easier to deal with and keep in line. When things are as screwed up as this, I don’t even know where to start to unravel them.”
“Can I ask you something?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Did our breakup really derail your plans that much?”
“I’m not drunk enough to answer that,” I said.
Henry huffed out a laugh. “I think it’s time for some brutal honesty between us.”
“I’ve always been honest with you, Henry.” The vodka warmed my body. I pushed my feet out of the afghan to cool off.
“No, you haven’t.” He held up his hand before I opened my mouth. “I broke up with you because I was scared. You had this vision of our future, and nothing was going to sway that vision. You were going to graduate at the top of your class and get a job at JenCar, but you’d still work on your master’s degree. We’d get married, buy a house with good resale value in case you got transferred to San Diego, which was what you really wanted. After you earned your master’s, then we could have kids. But not before, because you weren’t going to be pregnant and go to school. Of course, we’d have a boy and a girl, but no more than two. Three was too many. One wasn’t enough. And we’d live happily ever after.” He refilled his glass and took a sip while I finish
ed draining my third. “Sound about right?”
I nodded because it sounded exactly right. And exactly wrong, too.
“None of it took into consideration what I wanted.” He shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “I wanted to stay here, near my family. Deep down, I think you knew that. And when I realized you weren’t going to let anything stand in your way, I realized I was in your way.”
I opened my mouth, but I still couldn’t say a word. All this time I thought he left because I wasn’t good enough for him. Because I wasn’t pretty enough or smart enough or anything enough. But he left because he wasn’t enough for me. It was the most selfless damn thing he’d ever done. Tears threatened along my eyes, but I wasn’t going to let them fall.
“When I came to your apartment like a fool, I realized something else. You never loved me, Liv. Not the way you should love someone. And I don’t think I ever loved you that way, either. It was a chicken-shit move on my part. I was scared. Everything’s changing so fast and I just…I don’t know, regressed. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“I did love you, Henry,” I said, finally finding my voice.
“I believe you, but you loved me like another brother,” he whispered.
“I have enough of those, thank you.”
He smiled. “Then as a friend. With some pretty awesome benefits.”
I laughed, spilling vodka onto myself.
“I do love Amanda. The way you’re supposed to love the person you spend the rest of your life with.” He smiled, and a light blush covered his cheeks.
“I’m happy for you. Really.” It felt weird to say it, much less mean it, too.
“Your dad’s worried that you’re so determined to stay on this preset path that you’ll forget to actually live.” He stood and grabbed his glass off the table, leaving the bottle behind. “And I guess I needed to let you know the truth. I’ll always love you, Olivia Clarice Dawson.”
“Same here, Henry.” Again, strange saying it and meaning it. Henry was such a big part of my life that I couldn’t imagine not having him in it. I’d realized how much being with Henry was more about convenience. There weren’t a lot of options in Kerns. And there weren’t a lot of guys banging on my door for a date. We were two people who fit only because of location and lack of other available prospects. I had other prospects at Westland.
But I only wanted one. I only cared about one. My breath caught in my throat. I only loved one.
“Send me a wedding invite, okay?” My hands shook as I tugged the blanket closer to my chest. “I won’t come, but I’ll send a nice gift.”
Henry laughed, a genuine hearty laugh. “I will. And pictures of Isabelle when she’s born.”
“A girl? Congrats.” I stood, missing the warmth of my afghan within seconds. “Will Amanda be okay with this? With you coming out here?”
“She knows where I am. She doesn’t understand why, but she knows. Our lives are always going to be intertwined as long as I work for your father. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon. She’s adjusting to that still.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him. “Tell her thank you. And that I’d like us to be friends.”
“That might be pushing it, but I will.” Henry kissed the top of my head. It was caring in a brotherly way. “Give up the path. Take a few off-road detours every now and then, okay?”
“I will.”
“And if…Devon”—he clenched his fists as he said the name—“is the right guy for you, don’t let anyone stand in your way. You deserve to be happy. I want nothing more in the world than that for you.”
He is. The thoughts rolled through my head, the emotions through my chest. Devon made me happy.
He opened the door and disappeared inside. I settled back into my chair, feeling like I’d just sat through an episode of Dr. Phil. But Henry was right, I’d been on that path for so long that it self-destructed in front of me and I didn’t see it coming until the big explosion. It was time for a new path, a less traveled path. Instead of letting it happen, I was going to make things happen.
Starting with building this relationship between Seamus Devon Miller and me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When I woke up the next day, I knew I had to go back and face my failure head-on. Dad made sure I went to morning mass first. It wasn’t like other people didn’t lose their jobs. It had never happened to me, though. The last time I failed this spectacularly was when Henry broke up with me. It wasn’t pretty, but it was very public. I put in my Bluetooth and called Paige when I knew she was awake.
“Shit’s hitting the fan with the baseball team again,” she said instead of hello.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Liv, this is serious. Apparently, there’s a gambling scandal.” She paused and said hi to somebody in the distance. “I heard Devon’s name attached to it.”
“So? What’s the big deal?” I pushed down my blinker to signal my merge. “They do silly betting on stupid stuff.”
“But not on baseball? Or any other sport?”
“Unless beer pong or who can go farther on a Slip-N-Slide counts as sports, I’ve never seen or heard about it.” A light rain pattered against my windshield as I got closer to Des Moines. “You were around them, too. Did you ever hear them bet on a game?”
“No, not really. I heard them bet on stats, though.” Paige sighed into the phone. “The basketball team stayed away from it completely. They didn’t even bet on what color underwear they were wearing.”
“Thank God. I wouldn’t want to know.” I stifled a laugh. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Who cared if they bet on the outcome of the World Series or if Jason Carter won the MVP? Who cared if they bet on a pitcher’s ERA? They never bet money.
“You really don’t get how serious this is, do you?” Paige sound incredulous. “Liv, if anyone is caught gambling on sports, they’re banned for life from playing.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I mean, I get if they threw a game or bet on their own team, but any sport? Even like the PGA?”
“Any sport, including the PGA.”
It sank into my skin like thick Cornhuskers lotion, only it didn’t make me feel better. “But I still don’t understand. The punishment for gambling is worse than Betts’s steroid scandal? Or am I wrong?” I honestly hadn’t paid much attention to what happened to Aaron Betts other than what Devon had shared.
“Crazy, right? Westland expelled Betts for the steroids, but he could actually play baseball for another university. If any member of the team is busted for gambling, they can’t even play at a community college. I doubt a beer league softball team would touch them.”
“That’s insane.” I shook off the injustice of it and focused on Devon. “It doesn’t really matter anyway. Devon didn’t gamble on anything. He’s not stupid enough to risk losing his scholarships over it.”
“Maybe not, but it’s on the hotwire around here. I’ve gotten texts from everyone I know. Hailey sent me one at seven this morning. Can you believe that? Like I’d ever be awake before noon on a Sunday. At least my social exile is over.” Paige groaned on the other line. “I hate the rain. It makes everything colder. Anyway, when will you be back? I’ll come over tonight and we’ll talk.”
“I’m outside Des Moines now, so another couple of hours depending on traffic. Should definitely be there by six.”
“See you then. I’ll gather any other intel I might have.”
Paige disconnected, and I pulled the Bluetooth from my ear, tossing it into the passenger seat. I wanted to call him and ask, but the roads were getting slick. I needed to concentrate on driving. If this was anything like Betts’s steroid scandal, Devon would keep it close to his chest until he was ready to open up. Besides, Devon really wasn’t stupid enough to gamble knowing it would cost him everything he had worked for. Was he?
The rest of my drive was gray and gloomy with rain steady against my windshield. The temperature stayed above freezing at lea
st. Driving in rain was one thing, driving in sleet and ice were odds I didn’t like too much.
I parked in front of my building, noting Paige’s car in my usual spot. The minute I opened the driver’s door, the skies opened and the rain came down in sheets. In the five hundred feet from my truck to the front door, I was soaked to the bone. The chills settled into my body by the time I got to my front door.
Paige sat on my bed with her laptop, the glow from the screen the only thing illuminating her face. She sipped from my favorite mug.
“You break it, you’re buying me a new one,” I said as I closed the door.
“I bought you this one. And mine’s dirty.” She smiled and glanced at me. “Did you get wet?”
“Ya think?” I pulled off my dripping coat and laid it over a kitchen chair. “I’m going to take a shower then you can let me in on all the scoop.”
“Okay, but you’re not going to like this.” She continued typing on her laptop. “Not one bit.”
I wanted to rush through the shower, but the heat of the water warmed every inch of me. I knew if I jumped out, I’d be freezing again. When the water started to cool, I climbed out and wrapped myself in my thick terrycloth robe. A rare splurge on my part, but totally worth the money during long winter nights. I put my PJs on underneath, keeping the robe on as an extra layer of warmth.
“It’s not that cold,” Paige said when I stepped back into the living room. She moved her feet so I could plop down beside her.
“You didn’t get stuck in a downpour in thirty-five-degree weather.” I pulled my quilt over my legs. It was nice to be under it again. Five days without it felt like a lifetime.
Paige mumbled something and pushed her laptop toward me. “Here. Read this.”
The headline read: More Trouble with Baseball
Westland University’s baseball team has seen its share of scandal recently, but are steroids the only problem? After sitting down with numerous sources who have close contact to members of the team, I’ve discovered the trouble with the team runs much deeper than Aaron Betts and Seth Fisher. Several members of the championship team have done the unthinkable. They’ve gambled on baseball.
