by Aubrey Gross
Chase shook his head. “How have you not thought about this before?”
Matt casually sipped his coffee. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do once Jo goes back to Austin?”
“Not a fucking clue.”
Matt tried to fight the smirk that stole across his lips, but couldn’t. “It appears I’m not the only one who’s been living in the moment.”
“Shut it, asshole.”
“Hey, now!” Matt held up his free hand. “I’m just your big brother who cares and wants to see you happy.”
“Since when have you cared about how happy I am, Matt?”
He set his mug down on the counter. “Do you really believe that?”
Chase shrugged. “You’ve always cared more about yourself and your career, and I get that to an extent. I could have been in a similar position and I’m not, but I have at least an idea of what the pressure cooker’s like. You’ve just always seemed to care more about Matt than anyone else.”
“Once upon a time I did care more about myself than anyone else. People change.”
Chase peered at him. “I don’t know that you’ve changed all that much, bro.”
“Believe what you want, but I have,” he placed his coffee mug in the dishwasher and started to walk out of the kitchen, tired and confused and feeling too many emotions to name.
“Seriously, dude? You’re gonna start this conversation and then walk out on it without even participating? Whatever. You keep talking about changing and being different but we both know it’s just bullshit.”
Matt whirled and stormed back to his brother, poked Chase in the chest as he said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chase. Everyone sees what they want to see, and that’s my fault—I only let people see what I want them to see, so what else should I expect. I’m not good at expressing emotions or letting people in. You of all people should get that at least.”
Chase grabbed his finger and scoffed. “You? Not good at expressing emotions? You’re like one big emotion factory you dipshit. All you do is emote here lately, but no one has any clue why. You emote and then you spout weird philosophical stuff that would make Augie Garrido proud, and then you disappear for hours on end and come back once again emoting all over the fucking place. You’re right though about one thing, Matt—you don’t let people see you, to the point I’m not even sure who you are anymore and I’m you’re fucking brother!”
Matt snatched his finger away and glowered. “I do not emote all over the place.”
“Yes, you do. That’s not the point, though, Matt.”
“Well what is the point, then?” He barely refrained from yelling, the tension with Chase, the tension with Jenn, and the news of Tyler that he was still processing creating a pressure cooker inside of his heart.
“Who are you, Matt? Are you Matt Roberts, the Wranglers’ Ace and future Hall of Famer? Are you Matthew Roberts, son of Bo and Sarah Roberts and my brother? Are you Matt, the guy whose future is completely up in the air right now? Or are you someone else altogether?”
Weren’t those just the million dollar questions?
He took a step back, and kept taking steps back until he bumped into the island. “I honestly don’t know. It’s probably easier to list who I’m not.”
“Well then, start there.”
He blew out a stream of air, looked out the window over the sink and stared at everything and nothing. “I’m not the jerk you think I am, that’s for sure.”
“Fine. Fair enough. You’re not a jerk. I call you that mostly to razz you anyway.”
“I know. And I let you. But…I don’t know who I am right now, Chase. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to pitch again, and baseball’s been my life for the past twenty years at least. Sometimes I feel like I don’t know who I am without a baseball in my hand, which is kind of sad and pathetic when you think about it.”
“Give yourself a break, Matt. Like you said, baseball’s been your life for the past twenty years. That’s a long time, and an old dog like you doesn’t learn tricks quite as easily as he once did.”
“Dude, you’re two years younger than me, therefore you’re in no position to talk about me being an old dog unless you’re willing to call yourself an old dog, too.”
Chase chuckled. “Sometimes I swear you should be an English teacher.”
Everything inside of him went still, got hot then cold in an instant. “Why would you say that?”
“Have you never heard yourself speak? Your grammar is sometimes better than Jenn’s, and if the two of you could ever get along you could probably team up and kick everyone’s asses at Scrabble and Boggle.”
He wasn’t about to tell Chase that he often played Boggle online and on his phone. He also wasn’t going to tell Chase that he and Jenn were getting along; that was something he currently wanted to keep to himself considering how new their truce was.
“I don’t think I would have the patience to teach English.”
“Maybe not English, but have you ever thought about coaching? I’ve seen you at summer camps with kids—you’re a natural and surprisingly a great teacher.”
Thoughts of Tyler suddenly flooded his brain. What would he have been like? Would he have been athletic and a baseball lover like him and Chase or would he have been bookish like Jenn? Would he have had Jenn’s red hair or his dark brown hair? Her green eyes or his hazel ones? Would he have gotten all the best parts of both of them, or all the worst parts?
In his mind’s eye he could see a ginger-haired boy, tall and gangly, switching out a baseball glove for a paperback—or these days, a Kindle—his hazel eyes laughing as he did so.
Invisible bands tightened around his chest, making it impossible to breathe. Last night when Jenn had told him about the baby he’d felt her emotions; all of her sadness, anger and despair. He’d pushed aside his own because she’d needed his strength to lean on.
Apparently all those emotions he’d pushed down last night had decided to appear right fucking now.
White lights danced at the edges of his vision, and Matt gulped in a harsh breath of air as the bands tried to tighten. He should be a father right now. Would have been someone’s dad, someone’s world. He and Jenn had created a fucking life that night.
And then just like that, that life had been lost.
The unfairness of it—the pain and bewilderment—hit him like that stupid freaking line drive had hit his head: suddenly, sharply and painfully with no warning.
The bands tightened and the white lights danced brighter.
Vaguely, he realized he was having a panic attack, but had no frame of reference to really help get him out of it. He didn’t do panic attacks. He was a guy—men weren’t supposed to feel like this. He was supposed to have his shit together—not lose it entirely.
“Matt, are you okay?”
Chase’s voice sounded far away. He tried to nod. His movements were jerky, not at all like his usual self. He tried to speak, but the only thing that came out was a wheeze.
“Are you having a panic attack?”
He jerked his head from side to side. Chase moved towards him and put a hand on his back.
“Here, head between your legs. And no, I’m not being a smartass. Head between your legs.” He guided Matt until he was bent at the waist, his head between his legs.
“Now, breathe in slowly. Hold it just a second. Okay. Let it out slowly.” Matt did as he was told.
“Okay, let’s try that again, but a little slower this time. Breathe in.”
Matt inhaled.
“Okay, now breathe out slowly.”
Matt exhaled slower than he had the previous time.
“Better. Now let’s do that a few more times.”
After a couple more rounds of inhale/exhale Matt realized Chase was breathing with him, like they were in some psychiatric Lamaze class or something.
The thought of a Lamaze class made the bands around his chest tighten again. Shit.
He forced though
ts from his head—which was not an easy thing to do—and focused on breathing slowly in and out. After long moments—minutes?——the band around his chest loosened and the white dots no longer danced at the edges of his vision. He repeated the exercise a few more times—come to think of it, the breathing technique was a little like the one he practiced in yoga—and finally stood back up.
“Better now?” Chase asked.
Matt nodded. “How’d you know what was going on?”
Chase’s shrug was casual. “I’ve been having panic attacks since we were teens. They started after Jo stopped talking to me.”
“You started having anxiety attacks because a girl stopped talking to you?” Okay, he no longer felt like such a pussy.
Chase ran a hand through his hair. “It’s more that Jo ignoring me was the straw that broke the camel’s back. After all the surgeries and then finding out I would probably experience kidney failure at some point, Jo not talking to me was kind of like the cherry on top of the shit sundae, y’know. I didn’t really realize back then that I was in love with her, all I knew was that it felt like my world had ended.”
Okay, so maybe Matt could empathize—he’d felt a little like his world had ended the morning he walked out on Jenn.
Slightly different situation there, asshole. You chose to walk out on Jenn—Chase didn’t choose to have Jo drop out of his life.
Chase’s voice broke through Matt’s thoughts. “Mom figured out what was going on and took me to the doctor, who referred me to a therapist. Ends up I had Generalized Anxiety Disorder and PTSD. Who knew?”
Apparently not him. “How did I not know that?”
Chase shifted uncomfortably. “I asked Mom not to tell you. I was afraid you would make fun of me, which was probably stupid but we were also in high school.”
“I want to say I wouldn’t have made fun of you, but at that age I probably would have.”
“Exactly. But hey, at least you can admit it.”
“Small consolation, right?”
His brother’s grin faded. “So, you wanna talk about what happened just now?”
Matt shook his head and Chase’s face fell briefly before he managed to school his features. Still, though, it was enough for Matt to know he’d unintentionally hurt his brother. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t.”
“Well that’s a bit cryptic.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s not my story to tell, and I’m honestly still processing that story.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“More like heartbreaking,” he said, his voice quiet.
“You gonna be okay?”
Matt nodded his head once. “I have to be. The owner of the story needs me to be.”
“Okay, so it’s obvious you’ve met a woman, she has a pretty devastating story and it’s hitting you hard. Do I have my bases covered?”
“Everything but home plate.”
“And we are officially baseball nerds,” Chase teased. “Seriously, though, if and when you need to talk, I’m willing to listen. Isn’t that what brothers are for?”
Matt smiled, but he could tell it didn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that.”
#
Later that afternoon, Jenn sat on her couch, staring at the baseball game on TV, not seeing a thing.
Matt had stayed the night last night.
Wait. Scratch that. Matt had stayed the night last night after she’d asked him to.
Oh, holy shitbeans Batman, what had she been thinking?
That you didn’t need to be alone and he’s the only person who knows the story.
Shut. Up. Brain.
Unfortunately, her voice of reason was correct. She’d been lonely and emotional and knew herself well enough to know that being alone last night was the last thing she needed. Matt was there, being all comforting and smelling all manly and stuff, and she hadn’t been able to push him away.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to push him away again after last night.
He’d been a perfect gentlemen the entire night, had held her on the couch as they’d watched another movie (The Hangover this time, to reward Matt for watching Pitch Perfect), and then had held her later on her bed. They’d both remained fully clothed and had mostly kept their hands to themselves.
It had been sweet and had kind of sucked at the same time.
Feeling confused and frustrated, Jenn threw a pillow across the room. Dammit. He was making her lose her ever loving mind.
She dropped her head into her hands and began to laugh. Oh, God, she really was going crazy. She’d told him the most emotionally devastating secret of her life last night and today she was frustrated that he’d ended that kiss and hadn’t made any moves on her.
Ugh. She was the very definition of a hot mess right now.
She was antsy and full of nervous energy, like she could dance up and down her street while singing at the top of her lungs.
Is this what a mental breakdown feels like?
She closed her eyes and shook her head, opened her eyes and picked up her phone. She shot a group text to Jo, Chase and Owen.
Jenn: Y’all up for an impromptu trip out to the lake or anything? I have some energy I need to burn off.
A few seconds later Jo responded.
I don’t know. Let me see if Chase had plans for us this evening.
Chase: No plans. I’m up for whatever.
Owen: Sure. Give me an hour. I’ll bring beer.
Jenn: Meet at Chase’s since he has the boat?
Chase: Sounds like a plan to me.
Jo: I was about to head over there anyway.
Owen: Sure.
Jenn set her phone down and smiled, feeling slightly more centered. A day out on the water with her best friends was exactly what she needed to help get her mind off of Matt.
Chapter Fifteen
Sweet baby Jesus he was going to die. Right here. On Chase’s boat in the middle of Lake Amistad.
He was going to die a tortured, tortured man.
It was everything Matt could do to rip his gaze off of Jenn in what had to be the hottest bathing suit he’d ever seen.
Or maybe he was just going freaking loony tunes, because it wasn’t like her bikini was even close to being the most revealing he’d ever seen. Still, though, viewing all that cinnamon and sugar skin was making him feel well beyond hot and bothered.
She’d shown up at Chase’s about an hour ago, tote bag on her shoulder and sunglasses perched on top of her head, and had actually smiled at him when he’d opened the door. He’d been both relieved and scared—relieved that their truce was apparently still intact, scared because of all the things that simple smile had made him feel. Then she’d tilted her face up, kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you” before brushing past him and into the living room.
He’d stood there like an idiot for a good thirty seconds before remembering to close the door before Winchester escaped.
Jenn had further surprised him by inviting him to go out to the lake with them. Sure, Chase had already invited him and he’d already accepted, but the fact that Jenn had openly extended an olive branch had made him feel as good as his first professional strike out.
Right now, though, he was kicking himself for coming; seeing Jenn in that little blue bikini was driving him freaking nuts.
Yeah, but if you hadn’t come, you wouldn’t have gotten to see her in that little blue bikini.
Sometimes his inner voice was too smart for his own good.
Matt had to concede the fact that, yes, he was getting to see Jenn in her little blue bikini. And yes, it was an awesome sight.
Unfortunately his dick agreed, which was a little embarrassing considering his brother and Owen—not to mention Jo and Jenn—would be able to see his erection if they happened to glance at his crotch.
Think about pregnant nuns. Tommy Lee. Old people with sagging tattoos.
Slightly better.
Even though he didn�
�t want to, he tore his gaze off of Jenn in the clear water of Lake Amistad and stood up. He walked across the boat to stand beside Chase, who was currently bass fishing.
“Why don’t you join them?” he asked.
Chase slowly reeled the line back in. “I do sometimes. Mostly, though, I like the fishing. It’s relaxing in a way playing chicken isn’t.”
“Aren’t we all a little old to be playing chicken?”
Chase snorted before casting the line back out. “With this group? Never. We have to blow off steam somehow.”
Matt thought about that statement, the realization that he wasn’t the only one constantly under pressure coming to him suddenly. Why that had just occurred to him, he didn’t know.
Probably because you’ve been locked up in your own little world.
The fact was, though, they all faced different types of pressure. People thought playing a game wasn’t exactly a high-stakes job, but it was; not only for himself, but for his team and the fans. If he tanked, the team wouldn’t do as well, the fans would be unhappy and attendance and merchandise sales would decrease which would negatively affect the bottom line in the front office. That meant player cuts, trades and contracts worth less money. Plus, there was the pressure he put on himself as a competitor.
He’d thought he had a good grasp on the outside world, but he hadn’t. Chase, Owen, Jenn and Jo all had just as much pressure on themselves as he did, probably more so considering his nest egg. Chase and Owen weren’t hurting financially, but with both of them being small business owners in fields that were dependent upon the economy there was always pressure to make sure accounts balanced and that they could pay their employees. He’d seen first-hand this summer how much work Jenn put into teaching, and he didn’t envy her at all the stress of being responsible for so many young minds. And Jo…good Lord he couldn’t imagine the pressure that went along with being a high school guidance counselor.
He closed his eyes, the sunlight suddenly too bright. God, he really had been living in a bubble.
“You okay over there? Sure got quiet all of a sudden.”
Matt blinked. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
He shrugged. “What’s up with you wanting to talk about shit all of a sudden?”
