Page 83 of Convincing the Catcher

THIRTY-SIX

CANE

The Tower is incredibly loud, and I’m regretting telling the guys that they could host a New Year’s party here. Hendrix was annoyed at first, but then he realized he and Isla could just go to The Nest and escape the chaos. I can’t do that because if I showed up at The Nest, I’m pretty sure that would be breaking Harland’s non-spoken rules about us working on ourselves before giving us a shot.

It’s been a month since she ran out of my house into the cold night, and there hasn’t been a single second of any day since that she hasn’t been on my mind. As much as I hate to admit it, my brother and Harland were right. I did need to get my mind straight. And even though I have a lot more work to do on myself, I’ve been seeing a therapist, and weirdly enough … it’s helping.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop stepping in to save those I love because I think a lot of that is just who I am, and it’s not something I want to lose. But I also understand now that some of the shit I’ve been doing to make myself feel better isn’t healthy, and I’m establishing boundaries while also trying to let go of feeling like my dad’s death was my fault.

I don’t think it’ll ever fully go away, but I want to be the best version of myself for Harland if she ever does decide to give me a shot.

“Surprised to see you here,” Cash says, stepping beside me and looking at our house full of people.

“I live here,” I toss back. “You have a dorm. One that’s probably not filled with drunk, sweaty people.”

“I’m only stopping in for a second,” he mutters, and I hardly hear him over the music. “Also, you do realize, a year ago, you would have been the one partying till the sun came up. Probably with multiple women at your side …” He side-glances me. “Look at you, all mature and shit.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I almost cringe at his words, but it feels like a lifetime ago that I actually gave a fuck about being the life of the party or hooking up with whoever I thought was the hottest chick that night. Now I just wish I had gone to my parents’ house and slept in my old bedroom tonight. Still, I don’t think it has anything to do with being mature and more with how pathetic I’ve been since the last time I saw Harland weeks ago.

“You know, I’m going to make you uncomfortable and shit, but I’ve got to say it …” He moves a little closer to me but still doesn’t look directly in my eyes. “I’m proud of you for going to get your crap figured out.”

A chuckle instantly comes out of me, and I turn to face him. “My shit?”

His lip turns up when he sees my humor, and he shrugs. “What do you want me to call it, your trauma? That sounds depressing.”

“I mean, it sort of is depressing,” I deadpan. “But either way, thanks. For being an asshole and making me face my … shit.”

“You’ll be better for it,” he says, nudging his elbow against me when he turns forward again. “You deserve to be happy, Cane. Not just when others around you are.”

I don’t say anything back to my brother. Instead, we stand in silence for a little longer, side by side. Our feud was short-lived—because how the hell would I stay mad at my little brother? He’s one of the best guys I know, even though I’d never say that out loud.

Eventually, he wanders off, no doubt to find whoever the hell he came here for, and I look at the clock, knowing that before it strikes midnight, I’m going in my bedroom and locking the door. Because the last thing I need right now is some random person catching me off guard and shoving her tongue down my throat.

HARLEY

“She still hasn’t left yet,” Hendrix mutters to Isla from where they sit, cuddled up on the couch. “Do you think she knows that it’s, like … six minutes until someone else is going to try to kiss her man?”

“Shut up,” Isla growls back. “He’s not going to kiss anyone else. And if he does, then guess what. She shouldn’t want to kiss him anyway.”

“I didn’t say he wanted to kiss anyone else. I said someone else would try to,” Hendrix argues, like I’m not ten feet away from them, looking out the window at The Tower. “He’s a good-looking dude, babe. And he’s a baseball player. Girls love baseball players.” He pauses. “Not as much as they love hockey guys, but still.”

“That’s not helpful,” Isla says in a hushed tone before I hear the sound of shifting, followed by footsteps.

Soon, she’s standing beside me.

“Harls, if you’re going to run over there like you said you were going to … you need to do it now. Otherwise, it won’t be midnight.” She pats my shoulder. “I thought that was the whole point.”

“Right, because if you miss this window, probably should wait for Valentine’s Day,” Hendrix says from behind me, earning him a death glare from his girlfriend.

Ignoring him, I turn toward her.

“What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” I cringe. “I mean, first, I made a no romance rule because I didn’t want distractions. Then my dad died. Then we—never mind. And then I pushed him away again.”

“You didn’t push him away,” Isla whispers. “You did what was best for both of you at the time. But that was a month ago, and now you’re in a better headspace. And from what Hendrix says, so is Cane.”

I expect Hendrix to butt into the conversation again, but he must be scared of Isla because he doesn’t say a word. This time, it’s me looking at him.

“Do you think he’s moved on?” I whisper, chewing the inside of my cheek while I wait for his response.