Page 23 of Curveball

"Hey Farrah." I stared down at her, shoving my hands back into my pockets nervously.

Her shoulders jumped slightly, as if I’d startled her, before she brought her gaze from the fire up towards me. "Hey Walker, I didn't realize you were here. How's it going?" Before she could stand up, I lowered myself down next to her on the hearth of the fireplace.

"Good. Why are you over here all alone, staring into the fire, all broody-like?" I honestly didn't know why I even cared at this point. I should have just kept it surface level, the way we always had since our breakup. This girl had ripped my heart out, and had a boyfriend. We hadn't been together in years, and yet her happiness for some reason was still important to me. It was like I needed her to be happy. When Farrah hurt, I hurt. She still felt ingrained in my heart, my bones.

How fucked was that?

Farrah rolled her eyes. "I'm not broody."

I laughed. "Okay, sorry… why do you look sad?"

She looked away before responding. "It's nothing, just stupid boyfriend stuff. Want to go get a drink?" she asked, glancing back at me.

Farrah was a bit of a lightweight, and after a couple of drinks, the things weighing on her usually surfaced. I was also a little desperate to find out if she was still with Jake, so I nodded and led her toward the kitchen, where my parents had set up a mini bar.

After a couple of shots and a few glasses of wine, the old Farrah was back and in fine form—my Farrah. When dinner with our families was finished, we bundled up, grabbed a few blankets, another bottle of wine, and snuck off to my parents' barn. The hay loft had been our place when we were teenagers. We used to sneak up there, away from prying eyes, just to talk, laugh, and be together. Our families were both large and could be a lot, so this was our peace.

I knew this was probably a terrible idea… we were a bit drunk; she had a boyfriend. But I wanted to live in this bubble with her for just a little while longer. It had been a long time since we had been alone and just hung out together like we used to. She was my best friend, once upon a time, and being with her like this… it was my comfort. Being a professional baseball player was great and all, but it was also lonely.

Once we settled into our spot between the bales of hay, I poured us each another glass of wine. We spent most of the night just catching up on life and reminiscing. It was easy, comfortable, and what I had been missing in my life. I'd gone out with a few girls since Farrah, but nothing serious. There was never a connection, and at this point in my baseball career, it was nearly impossible to find anyone genuine. We avoided talking about our breakup, but even through her laughter, I could see the sadness in her eyes, which I was sure mirrored mine. I still loved her, and tonight had just made it that much clearer to me. I decided to see if she was willing to talk about Jake and why he wasn't here… I had to know.

"So, uh, where's Jake tonight? I thought he would be here." I picked at a piece of hay from the bale I was leaning up against.

She took a sip of wine and sighed. "We got in a fight, and he decided it would be best if he spent Christmas Eve with his family and I spent it with mine."

I nodded. "Got it. I'm sorry, that sucks, Farr." I didn't really know what else to say. I didn't want to overstep, and it sure as hell didn't feel appropriate for the ex-boyfriend to give dating advice.

She chewed nervously on her plump bottom lip, looking as if she were debating whether to say something. "It's okay. Things have been… rough lately…" She trailed off.

I'd have been lying if I said my heart rate didn't spike a little bit at her admission. I glanced over at her, watching her pick at the hay on the ground. "Do you want to talk about it?" I cleared my throat and quickly added, "I mean, I know that's weird, but I'm here if you need to talk."

Farrah forced a smile. "I don't know, sometimes I just feel like he talks down to me. I want to open my own design firm, and he thinks I need to keep working for an already established business. I hate having to mold my style to fit another firm's, and I especially hate that they get all the credit. He’s also made comments about wanting a wife who stays home with his kids, which is definitely not me. The longer we’re together, the more I see big differences between us. I'm just not sure what to do or if this will work. I love him, but sometimes I think we’re just too different." She swiped at a tear that escaped. "I'm sorry, I should not be talking about this with you. I'm sure it’s super weird for you to hear all of this.” She paused, shaking her head. “It's fine, we’ve just been fighting more than usual, and I'm just being sensitive."

I reached over and placed my hand on Farrah's, ignoring the warm spark that shot up my arm from the touch of her skin against mine. I hadn't touched her in years; it felt like home. With my other hand, I brushed away another tear that had fallen down her pretty face.

"Don't cry, Wildflower. I hate when you cry," I whispered. She leaned into my touch, dark jade eyes searching mine.

Looking for what? I wasn't sure.

"I can't sit here and make you feel better about another guy. I just… can't. I'm not going to tell you it'll be okay and y'all will get through it, because selfishly I hope you don't." Farrah's breath hitched, brows pulling together at my admission. "But what I will say is you need to open your own design firm. That's your dream and what you’ve worked your ass off for. If he doesn't support that, then he probably isn't the guy for you. If you have to mold yourself to fit what he wants, then he isn't it. Period."

Farrah chuckled. "That easy, huh?"

I nodded. "That easy, Wildflower."

"You haven't called me that in years. I've missed it," Farrah said quietly, averting her eyes from mine as if she were self-conscious of her own admission.

I gently grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to look me in the eyes. "I've missed you," I said before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. She may have always been mine in my head, but I wasn’t that kind of guy, and wasn't going to cross that line with her.

No matter how badly I wanted to.

"Whoa, hold up… did you just say you and Farrah had a moment?" Cohen asked. I put my phone on speaker before I placed it down on the bathroom counter. It was a few days before New Year’s, and I was still in Primrose Hill at my parents' house.

I grabbed my toothbrush and squeezed toothpaste across the bristles. "Yeah, Coh, that's what I said. Anyway, back to the property… I think I'm going to buy it. It's perfect, the main house is badass, it has a great guesthouse for when all you fuckers want to come over, and the best part… it has a barn. I can finally buy some horses."

"Doesn't she have a boyfriend?" Cohen questioned, completely ignoring my comments about the property.

I scrubbed my teeth for a minute. "Yeah, but it doesn't sound like it’s going to last much longer," I said, around a mouthful of toothpaste, before spitting it into the sink.