The waiter comes back with our food, giving me a few seconds to breathe before he starts questioning me again.
“I still don’t understand why you won’t just live with me,” he grumbles when he leaves.
“Because I like my personal space.”
Although that’s not entirely a lie, I have to admit that living with Quentin isn’t all that bad. He makes me dinner daily where we spend time talking about our days, we crack jokes as we work on our puzzle, and enjoy the occasional dance break together. When he’s on the road, he not only texts me to check in, he also makes sure to prepare a sweet treat before he goes just in case I get a craving for something sweet, which seems to be the case as of late. And when he’s home, things are easy between us.
So easy that keeping our distance is proving to be harder and harder. Especially since that almost kiss the other day.
I still can’t believe I nearly let that happen. It hasn’t made things awkward between us, but it’s made things complicated for me. Because clearly my head and my heart might be in two different places, and I need to get them back on the same page.
“Whatever.” He sighs, twirling his spoon around his soup. “Since you’re so hell-bent on not letting me help you, the least you can do is come watch me pitch tomorrow.”
My body freezes at the suggestion. I’ve gone to Ian’s games plenty of times in the past since he signed with Detroit, but that was before I got pregnant with his enemy’s baby. I can’t see a good ending to all three of us being in such close proximity.
I want to tell Ian I can’t go, but he knows I’m not busy training right now and I don’t work on weekends, so I really have no excuse to say no.
“I’ll be there.” I give him my best smile, a fake one, but my best.
“When you get there—”
“Ask for Thomas and he’ll bring me to my seat. I know.”
“And be careful, you never know where a ball will go,” he adds, a look of concern on his face.
While it’s my inclination to roll my eyes and say I’ll be fine because he knows I can take care of myself, I don’t. My brother means well and I hate arguing with him. Instead, I smile softly and say, “I’ll be careful. Don’t worry. What’s new with you?”
“Same old, same old. Baseball, sleep, repeat,” he replies before taking a bite of his sandwich.
His response makes me sad because I used to be the same. And while I enjoyed having my entire focus on gymnastics, now that I’m pregnant, I’ve been forced to realize that there’s more to life. Like how fun it is to explore new things such as baking, even though I suck at it. Or how having a family changes your perspective on things, making you focus on something other than yourself as they now come first.
“Do you ever wish for more?” I ask him because while we are close, he doesn’t ever speak much about his desires for a family or partner.
To be fair, neither of us has, seeing as our lives’ focus thus far has been on our careers. But with my recent shift in perspective, I want to know what his thoughts are.
He sets his sandwich down, wiping his fingers with a napkin. “What more could I need? I’m playing the sport I love. The team is projected to make the playoffs. My sister is having a baby.”
“Isn’t there something you want, though, just for you?”
“Yeah, to win the World Series. I’ve yet to do that.”
I groan as I stab my fork into my salad, take a bite, then say, “You really don’t want to settle down or have a family?”
“Did you?” he fires back.
He’s right. Before finding out I was accidentally pregnant, having a family wasn’t in my future plans. It’s not something I ever thought I would have or want, but now, I can’t wait to have my own little family.
“No, I didn’t,” I admit. “But I’m learning that sometimes there’s more to life than work.”
“Well, until I find something I love as much as baseball, I’ll let you know. For now, it’s me and baseball ‘til I die.” He winks playfully at his rhyme, taking another bite of his grilled cheese.
I hope someone knocks him on his ass one day. To see him open up and care about something other than himself, me and baseball. We grew up with the same mindset, to work our asses off. But I have to say, it’s so freeing not to be thinking about work all the time. I now make plans for the future, talk to my friends more often, and take time to do things that bring me joy. All things that I want him to experience, and I think it might take a special someone to come into his life to make him see that.
“Talking about family… Does Mom know you’re pregnant?” he asks, his eyes inquisitive on mine, his tone more serious than it was minutes ago.
“What do you think?” I retort as I push around a piece of lettuce. I know we should be able to talk about her, but I just hate the sinking feeling in my stomach I get every time I’m reminded thatshe left us. “She didn’t even call when they announced my retirement and I definitely don’t plan on reaching out first.”
He chuckles in disbelief. “I guess nothing she does should ever surprise me anymore.”
