“Friends. I know,” he interrupts, his eyes shooting open as he tosses his hands in the air. “But you’re really going to tell me that’s what you want? That as soon as this season ends, you go your way and I go mine?”
My hands fall idly to my sides as a twinge of sadness settles over me. “I mean, yeah. This isn’t new. I’ve never said anything different.”
He runs a palm over his face. “Okay fine. I get that it was your plan, but can you really tell me, after everything that’s happened between us, that it’s still what you want?” he asks, clearly sensing my need to run as he reaches out, hooking his fingers through my belt loops and pulling me closer.
I swallow before my lips curve into a frown.
I’d always known this day was coming. Hell, I knew it the second I agreed to this damn friends-with-benefits thing. Eventually everything would come crashing down—I just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.
“It doesn’t matter what you or I want. It’s what has to happen. It’s what was always going to happen, especially now that you have this amazing opportunity.”
“Of course what we want matters,” he huffs, running a hand through his hair. “I might not know what city I’ll be living in next or what team I’ll be playing for, but the one thing I am sure about is you.”
He pauses, his eyes searing into mine. “You’re it for me. I don’t have a single fucking doubt that the only thing I need in my life to be happy is you. And something tells me that if you’d just be honest with yourself, you’d realize you feel the same way and want the same exact thing.”
“Yes. Of course I care about you and want the same things,” I rub my fingers aggressively against my temples as a headache starts to bloom just behind my eyes. “But we were also never made to last. Either we’re both working under my father, where we shouldn’t be together at all, or we end up on opposite sides of the country, beyond miserable as we’re forced to spend half the year apart.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that.” He leans forward, his voice gentle, yet somehow desperate. “You could always look for a job in whatever city I end up in. Or hell, maybe one of the interested teams is in California and I could just move back with you.”
“Mason,” I whine, my head dipping back toward my shoulders. “This is exactly why I fought so hard against this in the first place. We shouldn’t be making life-changing decisions all for a relationship that may or may not work.” I take a shaky breath, my headache already intensifying. “What happens if I move back to California and you follow me, only to realize you miss Honky Tonk ball? Because I already know how that story ends. We'd end up resenting each other, and I refuse to let that happen.”
“Hollis…” he says, my name sounding like a plea on his lips, and right now, it may as well be.
“You know what, I think you were right earlier. I think it’s time for you to go.” I take a step back and fold my arms.
“Come on, Holls. Don’t do this. We can figure this o—”
“No,” I interrupt. “I mean it. You need to go,” I say, my voice filled with a conviction I don’t quite feel.
He opens his mouth to say something, but the fight seems to leave him just as quickly as his shoulders droop in defeat. “If that’s what you really want.”
I’m making a mistake, or at least that’s what the voice in my head is screaming as I lead him toward the door. Still, I force myself to stay strong as I open it and lean my back against the frame.
Hesitation flickers across his face as his eyes meet mine as he walks through the door but I force myself to look away. I’m just not strong enough, because I already know that if I do look, I’ll crumble and fall under the same spell I’ve been under since the moment he hit on me at the bar.
How is this even fair? Because the more I think about it, the more I understand how little of a chance I ever stood. It’s obvious now... I was always destined to fall for Mason Fletcher. Still, that doesn’t mean I have to keep walking down a path that’ll only ever lead toward heartbreak. So, I do the only thingI can. I shut the door behind him before either of us can say another word.
The goal was, and has always been to come home to Texas, get the job done, and leave with my heart completely intact. Unfortunately, as my back slumps against the large wooden door, my chest tightens as I become far too aware that I’ve already messed up, because this sort of pain can only mean one thing. My heart’s already breaking.
I want to believe I made the right call, because at this point, it’s practically all I have left. But as I’m left to linger in my self-imposed loneliness, it’s impossible not to wonder if I just made the best or worst decision of my entire life.
32
Fletcher
“Alright man, enough with this sad-guy bullshit. What the hell is going on with you?” Hudson asks as we exit the field and head back inside.
“And spare us the whole ‘I’m fine’ routine,” Easten adds, catching up as he settles himself on my other side. “We aren’t fucking buying it.”
Hudson snorts. “No kidding. Between this and the ‘nothing’s going on with Hollis’ denials, I’d have hoped you would’velearned by now that you can’t hide shit from us. We know your pretty-boy ass way too well.”
I tug at my hat, flipping it forward and pulling the bill down to cover my eyes as I groan.
“Oh, wait!” Easten bobs his head as though it’s all just clicked. “That’s what this is about? Something bad go down between you and Baby Clemmins? I thought it was a little weird you two weren’t making those creepy ‘fuck me’ eyes from opposite sides of the field today.”
“Right?” Hudson laughs again. “Watching those two is like watching some kind of weird nature documentary,” he adds with a small, disgusted shiver.
“And today, folks,” Easten begins in a horrible Australian accent, “we’re witnessing the rare mating call of a Honky Tonk shortstop as he performs his native dance to attract the team owner’s daughter.”
