“Excuse me?” asked the reporter, almost on top of the two of them he stood so close.
Time caught up with them. Tilly scrambled out of Brayden’s arms just as quickly as she’d jumped into them. She scowled at the blacktop, though Brayden wasn’t sure if she was mad at him or mad at herself. Maybe a little of both, considering the way she shook her hands out and glared at him.
Brayden smiled at the college reporter. “Yes?”
“I had one more question.” His eyes darted to Tilly, who was unloading her bag from the back seat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No worries,” Brayden replied. His eyes followed Tilly’s movements.
“I just wanted to know if you had any regrets about leaving baseball.”
Tilly’s head came up, and their eyes locked.
“Just one,” he answered. Coming to himself, he shoved the selfish needs aside. “But that’s a story for another day.” He clapped the guy on the back, took Tilly’s bag over his shoulder, and made his way to the bus. It wasn’t lost on him that he could carry both their bags now. His strength was returning, slowly.
For the first time since the breakup, he wished what he’d done to get stronger would be enough. Thathecould be enough for Tilly even in his broken state. She’d still love him—he was pretty sure of that. But it wasn’t fair to ask her to settle for less of a life. Had they already been married when the accident happened, he’d have fought tooth and nail for her—vows meant something. But they didn’t have those vows to bind them together, so the right thing to do was set her free.
He tossed their bags into the growing pile near the storage, climbed on the bus, and took a seat next to Dustin.
“You don’t look so good.”
“Just tired.” Brayden folded his arms, leaned his head back. “Wake me up when we get to Vegas.”
“Sure thing.” Dustin went back to the game on his phone.
Even with his eyes closed, Brayden knew when Tilly got on the bus. His body lifted partially out of the seat as if it needed to go to her. She sat down near the front of the bus. They took seats just as far apart on the plane and managed to avoid one another for the rest of the day.
And at the end of it, when he was getting ready for bed, he thought about his regrets and wondered if there was anything he could do to erase them.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tilly
“Thanks, Rowdy. I needed a night out.” Tilly leaned back into the booth, her stomach full of chocolate cake and raspberry sauce. Across from her, Rowdy Fuentes pushed his plate away and grinned.
Atlanta was a new town for Tilly, and while she’d enjoyed exploring on her own for the first couple of days of the series, she was tired of being alone. Alone was … empty. Void of out-loud laughter. There were no shared looks of astonishment, there was no hand to hold, no hard chest to snuggle up against, no inside jokes to start.
She’d set out to explore, thinking that having new memories, without a certain person in them, would be a start to building a new life. But Atlanta felt barren. Even though it teemed with people and whispered of adventure, it was all lost to her without someone to share it with. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get Brayden out of her system.
“I figured it was my turn to introduce you to some of my town’s charms.” Rowdy threw his arm over the back of the booth. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and he flicked it aside.
Tilly hunched forward. She should be over the moon to sit in this high-class restaurant, eating chocolate cake with raspberry sauce, with a guy like Rowdy, but she was wound so tight she couldn’t enjoy a thing. “I wish I could relax like you.”
“Why can’t you?”
She set the tines of her fork on the plate, swirling them through the chocolate sauce and making nonsensical designs. “I guess I’m stressed out over being here and being in charge of all the details. It’s not like it’s that hard, but things stick in my head and I can’t shake them out.” She tapped her temple.
“Like what?” He rolled a hand, indicating she should expand on that thought.
“Like the fact that Brayden has eaten dinner in his room by himself every night of this trip. He should be out with his friends or at least gaming in their rooms, but he’s not.
“And why do I know that he’s in room 617? I can’t remember anyone else’s room numbers. But his won’t go away.” She rapped her knuckles against her forehead as if she could knock the information right out of her brain.
“Umm.” Rowdy shifted in his seat.
“And he’s not ordering enough food. He should have two steaks for dinner, but he only orders one. I guess he’s not using calories like he used to, but still, the guy has the appetite of a hippopotamus.” She’d teased him about that often enough. Her mental state was Harper Wolfe’s fault. No doubt the Redrocks’ owner had decided to play matchmaker and get her and Brayden on a road trip together.
More thoughts tumbled out of her. “And when he’s in the bullpen, he stomps around too much. He’s making the other guys nervous because they aren’t used to seeing him as a coach and he’s stomping.” She laid her palms on the table and leaned forward. “Whyis he stomping?”
