Page 94

“Oh, I have,” Eliana states. “He’s just a stubborn ass who refuses to listen to me.”

My head whips back at her. “Me? I’m not being stubborn.”

She scoffs out a laugh, taking a sip of her water. “Right. Just keep telling yourself that, babe.”

Her mom laughs, sitting on the couch across from us. “Well I’m very happy to see you, Wyatt. I’m glad you decided to come with Ellie today.”

I nodded, smiling at her. I hadn’t seen her dad yet, so I had some time to mentally prepare myself for whatever confrontation I was in for.

And as if he was fucking psychic, in walks Eliana’s father, Adrian. There’s an uncomfortable shift in the room when he walks in and his eyes go straight to me.

Ellie went up to him, embracing him in a hug. “Hi, dad.”

He kisses the top of her head, his expression softening just for a fraction before his eyes snap back to me.

I looked over at him, standing up to approach him and shake his hand. “Good to see you again, sir.” I tell him, holding out my hand.

He hesitates at first, but then shakes my hand with a firm grip. “Glad to see you’re still in one piece.”

Eliana looks over at us as I pull my hand away. “Yeah, just patched up. But together in one piece!” I chuckle, moving my hand to the back of my neck. “Was just talking about Eliana’s been on my case about it.

Alright, Wyatt. Now you’re just rambling.

He nods. “At least someone is,” he mutters, going to sit down in his recliner and turn on the TV, ESPN being the first thing that comes on. Even on my day off, I can’t escape sports.

That’s how Ellie’s dad has always been – if the TV was on, it was something sports related. I grew up practically living here, and her dad has always been a huge sports guy. He was a big part in getting my full ride to Coastal Carolina. We trained on days I didn’t have baseball practice in middle and high school. I give thanks to him for being such an influential part of my development as an athlete.

I just fucked it up when I broke up with his daughter.

The tension in the room was so fucking thick, it felt suffocating. I didn’t really know what to talk about with him, I didn’t know how to talk to El, and I think she could tell I was nervous.

I started picking at my hands, staring down at them while the noise from the television filled any sort of awkward silence.

It was strange. Adrian barely spoke while we all sat in the living room enjoying some lunch. It seemed like every time I moved, his eyes were on me, making sure I didn’t pull something stupid.

When we finished, Eli and her mom stood up, grabbing the plates. I stood up, going to help, but her dad’s voice sharply cut through the room.”

“Sit down, Wyatt. Let them handle it.”

Eliana froze, a stack of plates in her hand. She looked over at me, then back at her dad. “Dad..”

“Go help your mother, Ellie-bug. I want to talk to the boy. Man to man.”

I give her a small smile and reassuring nod. She hesitated for a second before turning her back and headed into the kitchen.

Once it was just me and Adrian, the silence was deafening. He didn’t speak a word for a full minute, and I was sure this was going to be my last moments alive.

“You slide like an amateur, I taught you better than that,” Adrian said suddenly.

I blink, shifting back slightly. “Sir?”

“Your baseline slide. You caught the inside of the bag with your trailing foot instead of giving yourself enough room. Sloppy move for a World Series MVP.” He set his glass down on the table, a thud is the result. “But that’s the issue, isn’t it? You don’t think about the consequences. You just do what you think is right.”

“I just wanted to get the run for the team?” I question, my chest tightening.

“I don’t care about the team, Wyatt. That’s not the point of this conversation,” Adrian snapped, leaning forward. “I care about my daughter, who five years ago, had her heart shattered because you decided to act without thinking. You threw her away like she was a piece of garbage. Then, you get single-minded about a playoff game, and you risk injuring yourself and sitting out through the remainder of the season while my daughter sat in the stands nervous as hell.”

The words hit me like a slug to the chest. I couldn’t look away, though. I met his angry, protective gaze with a defensive one.