“I don’t know how to do this.” The quiet admission broke something in me, something I’d barely had the strength to admit to anyone but myself. “Baseball’s been my life for so long, and now, it’s just gone. In one moment, I lost everything, and there’s a chance I may never get it back.”
Jace leaned forward. “I get it, man. I know it’s not the same, but when I got cut from the team, it put me in a dark place, like I’d fucked up my one chance, and I’d spend the rest of my life chasing that high.” He shook his head. “But it took leaving to realize it’s only a part of my life. It can’t define the whole thing.”
“How did you do it?” I asked. “How did you move on from the game, knowing you had a lot more left to play?”
“I didn’t.” Jace shrugged. “I just embraced that I needed more outside of it, learned to turn off the noise and focus on the parts of it I enjoyed, left the rest behind me.” He shifted forward, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You’ve always been a killer out on the field, D. The legend who never gave up. And now, you’re going to let one setback fuck everything up? Let this injury decide you’re done?” He smirked. “Not my captain, oh captain.”
“Swear, if you quote that fucking movie, I’m walking out this room.”
“Like to see you try, man.” He pulled my crutches away. “And that movie is a classic.”
“It’s depressing as shit.”
“Maybe, but it’s also true. So you need to decide, D. Are you going to let this injury kick you in the dirt and stay down? Or are you going to fight like hell?”
I sighed, pulling my hair back from my face. He made it sound so easy, like this fight was just something I could easily overcome. Sure, I’d made progress in the week since I’d been home, but every step was almost microscopic. By the time I got better enough to walk out on the field, would the team even want me? Or would I be just another relic pulled off the reserve list for sentimental reasons?
Jace shook his head. “I can already see the gears turning in your head, convincing you not to fight. If that’s the case, I’ll get out of here. Don’t need to get sucked into some male version of Gray Gardens.”
Despite myself, I grinner. “Fuck, man. When did you become the insightful one? Last time you were here, you tried to sleep with half the women in the city, convinced you were some kind of sex god.”
Jace's smile dropped away, and he shuffled on the floor. “Started talking to someone after I went back down to the minors. I’d never get back to the team if I couldn’t get my head right. There’s still a lot to unpack, but it’s helping me look at everything differently.”
My throat caught at his admission, knowing how much it took to get Jace to admit that. When I suggested therapy last year, he shut me down, refusing to even think about spilling his problems to a stranger. But the man in front of me was a far cry from the one who’d left our clubhouse without a look back. It might not have seemed like it at the time, but going back down to the minors had been the best thing to happen to Jace.
And it might be time I took his advice.
“If I promise to stop being a dick to Chase, can I have my crutches back?”
“Not yet,” Jace said. “First, you’re going to tell me all about the girl Seda and Drobrek warned me about, and then you’re going to explain how badly you fucked that up.”
THIRTY-SIX
“Man, you are so fucked.”
After Chase left for the day, Jace and I moved into my living room, my leg propped up on a cushion. Jace had tried to sit in the chair opposite the couch, but I told him no. No one had sat there, not since Brianna bared herself to me, showing me how beautiful she was when she owned her pleasure. Now, I refused to let anyone else sully that memory.
In fact, she’d etched herself into every inch of my apartment. Her shampoo sat on the shelf in my shower, her favorite sweater curled up on the bench at the edge of my bed. One of her favorite romance books was still on my end table, and I hadn’t moved it an inch.
Despite our insistence that our relationship had been casual, every piece was evidence to the contrary. Never had I let a woman step foot into my apartment. Talia and I had a place together in Manhattan when we were engaged, but that had never felt like home. It still hurt like hell when we boxed up all her stuff, leaving me with nothing more than the memories. After that, when I moved uphere, I swore I’d never let another woman into my home, not wanting to deal with that emptiness ever again.
But just like everything else with Brianna, she’d crept into my world, leaving pieces of herself with me. And even though I’d given her every reason not to, I wasn’t ready to let go of the hope she’d come back and claim them just yet.
We spent the next hour catching up. Jace filled me in on his life up in Portland. While he missed the rush of the major leagues, he’d been doing well out of the spotlight. Without the constant pressure and scrutiny, he’d kicked a lot of his darker habits, focusing instead on becoming a better ball player. And it had paid off. When Jace left, he’d dropped a ton of weight and had dark circles under his eyes, but now, there was a new life in his gaze, a lightness that had dimmed over his time on the team.
Being here with him now loosened the guilt that had plagued me since the day he left. While you never wanted anyone to get knocked back down to the minors, in Jace’s case, it was the right call.
Just as I was about to say as much, a knock pounded on my door, and I stared at Jace. He stood, shaking his head as he walked over. “Don’t give me that look. You’re lucky they waited this long.”
When he pulled the door open, Cam, Parker, and a bunch of the other guys trickled into my apartment. Even Benny joined them, holding a crock pot or something in his arms. Grabbing my crutches, I stood and moved toward them. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”
“Better question,” Cam said as he smacked my shoulder, “is why the hell didn’t you call us? We’ve had to stalk Chase to get any information about you.”
I shook my head as Parker, August, and Benny came over, also patting me on the back. “Didn’t want to fuck upyour season with my shitty mood. Figured I’d see you guys after.”
“Don’t give us that shit,” Parker said, throwing a bunch of bags on my counter and pulling out snacks. “We’re a fucking team, cap. One of us goes down, we help him stand back up.”
“Besides,” Gray, our pitching coach, called out after he made his way into the kitchen, “it’s team dinner. No way we were letting you miss another one.” He moved closer to me. “The team needs you, captain. Needs to see you’re doing okay.”
