“Did you hear what I said? Coach says it’s obvious. As in me and you obvious. How is this okay?”
“Because you’re still a coach here. I’m still a player. Nothing has changed. So that means . . . it’s okay.” His logic is so, well, logical. Only he’s missing the rest of the story.
“No, Jayden. It’s not.” I bite my tongue and prevent myself from adding that I’m being sent home. The last thing either of us needs right now is him coming to my defense. That will only push Coach’s decision in the wrong direction. I’m sure of it.
Jayden’s eyes narrow again, and his mouth straightens.
“He’s worried about my judgement. With you. He wants toreevaluate.” I use Coach’s exact words, but Jayden still doesn’t seem as worried as I am.
“You won’t get to the next level if nobody believes us when we say you’re ready,” I add.
“I’ll just have to show them,” he says, his thumb grazing my jawline. The way his eyes dash around my face, his expression so certain—I wish I could feel like him. Everything boiling in my chest right now feels like doom.
Jayden’s rationale is crazy, and I laugh as my gaze moves to the television screen showcasing all of the exciting things to do in Little Rock during our hotel stay. I snap my gaze back to his and grab hold of the hem on his long-sleeve Mavericks shirt.
“People will talk. They’re already talking.”
So many people. Strangers on the internet.
Jayden simply shrugs at my words, dropping his lips to mine briefly and pulling away with a smile.
“Let them.”
His ease with all of this is confounding. His touch makes me dizzy, and I start to believe the words he’s saying. But I can’t stay here. I have to get back to my room to pack my clothes and toiletries and take a car to the airport. I need to put all of this into perspective for both of us before I can give him any more of me. I need him to understand.
“Bastion wants me gone, Jayden. And as wrong as his reasons are, he’s smart enough to exploit anything he can. And he sees us. He’s always watching me. With you.” I hold my eyes open on his, and he holds his breath for a moment before sitting down beside me. We are quiet for a moment.
“It’s not unheard of,” he begins.
“What’s not?” I turn to my side, and he reaches for my hand.
“Players in relationships with organizational staff. It happens.”
I shake with one hard laugh as my mouth falls open. His brow draws in with confusion.
“I’m pretty sure someone who works in ticket sales dating a pitcher, or someone who does graphics or, hell, even marketing, is a lot different than a coach. I literally hold your career in my hands. They trust me to be unbiased.”
“So, be unbiased. I can take it,” he says, turning to meet me eye-to-eye.
“My unbiased opinion is that you’re the hardest working player on this team. You aren’t the biggest, but you’re the fastest. And you are going to continue getting better with every at-bat you take because that’s what you’ve proven you’ll do. But I can make those statements until I’m blue in the face and nobody is going to listen, because?—”
“Because what? Because we’re sleeping together?”
My eyes prick with tears. It’s not that simple, and he has to see that.
“No, Jayden.” I shake my head. “Because I?—”
Because I love you.
Both of us go silent, and even though the word wasn’t said out loud, it lingers in the air. I want it to be spoken by both of us, but also, not like this. I don’t want it to be irrational. I don’t want it to be some knee-jerk fairytale idea he puts into the universe, a tale of him and me against the world.Our love will conquer all!
Those are nice sentiments, but we’re part of a billion-dollar machine. And while we aren’t major cogs in the wheel of this organization or the parent team above it, our actions can still derail things. The gossip online likely already has. And nobody will give a rat’s ass about our love story when deciding whether or not to shuffle Jayden into some trade deal or invest in his future. They’ll only care about unfiltered, unbiased, cold, hard facts. And giving a fair shake to a woman in a man’s job won’t even be on the table. It’s a miracle it ever was.
“What do you want, Colby?” he says, his hand slipping over mine again.
He curls his fingers around my palm, and it grounds me for a moment. It would be so easy to stay. That’s why I ran here, isn’t it? Why I stole the extra keycard from his wallet the night before. I planned on sneaking in here for very different reasons, under different circumstances. But now . . . now I think it’s better if we sleep in our own rooms tonight.
“We need to be a lot less obvious,” I say, because there’s no way I’m saying what Ireallyshould. That maybe we can’t do this. Can’t have this. That I’m not just leaving his room; I’m leaving this state.
