Ren

“You could have invited her to join us,” Rafe said as he looked in the direction Erica left. It was a miracle he caught sight of her because she’d stopped short directly behind him. Rafe had eagle eyes, which were a great advantage on the field.

“I didn’t want her to join us,” I said as I tossed back the last of my beer. “What’s the deal with her, Ren?” Andy scrutinized me as Rafe sat back, watching the TV above my head, or pretending to.

“We dated and broke up. Nothing more.”

“Seems like more,” Andy said.

“It may be more for her, but I shut that shit down today. Nothing will distract me this season, nothing and no one,” I fired off adamantly. I was talking a good game, but the truth was, my chest had been burning since I saw her cry openly in front of me. She was trying to apologize, but I was still too angry, even after the years between us. And I wanted her as far away as possible because it burned. I wanted nothing more than to grip her to me and comfort her. But she wasn’t mine to comfort. She took that away from both of us. I shook my head to ward off any thoughts as I looked up to see them both staring at me. “I’ve got it.”

“You don’t have shit. She’s already screwing with your head,” Andy pointed out.

Rafe came to her defense. “She’s here to do a job, no more, so let it be.”

I looked over at Rafe, who was staring red-faced at Andy. They were having a mental debate, and it looked like Rafe won that round before he turned to me.

“She’s by herself in a hotel in the middle of Arizona with a quarter of the League. She’s probably miserable.”

“If there’s anything that can make her miserable, it’s baseball,” I agreed. “But it’s not my problem.”

But it was, and I was hellbent on trying to figure out how to solve it. The best solution I could come up with was distance. I’d caught myself flirting with her at breakfast, and that had quickly escalated to lusting.

My line of thinking was fucked. She left me. I lashed out. We were done. End of story. I couldn’t take any more chances with her. I wouldn’t. She had ruined me once, and I’d let her. She wouldn’t get another chance to do it again.

* * *

I paced her floor with my head spinning. I drank too much. I needed first-aid and fast, or I would be shit for training in the morning. With my frustration circulating like the whiskey, I couldn’t help but tread the carpet outside her hotel door. I needed . . . something and it was tearing me apart.

She had bared herself to me that morning. I saw it all, her regret, her apology. Erica was raw with the loss of us, and it should have brought me comfort, but all it brought was restlessness. Leave it to the brown liquor to make me forget about the promises that I’d made to myself.

My head spun as my strides got quicker. I was like an angry lion ready to rip the floor apart to get to her. And then what? More tears, more apologies? And who would that help?

Still, I was hungry for more. I wanted to taste her tears on my tongue, to silence her apology with my cock. I wanted her to suffer while I buried my misery inside her. She was sorry. Fine, but did she regret it? Did she want more with me? Slamming my palm against the elevator button, I braced my hands on either side of the door and hung my head.

Two years, and with every day, every hour, every second, I knew I still loved her. I knew I wouldn’t forget her and didn’t want to. She was the one woman who knew me. Aside from my high school sweetheart, she was the only one I’d let in, only to be surprised by her.

She was it. I had a one-woman heart. I’d always been a faithful man. I had no problem with monogamy, and it wasn’t a choice, it was the way I was built. It’d always been assumed I was a heartbreaker and a playboy because of the way I looked, but my insides didn’t match that fucked-up persona.

At the heart of me lay a man who would bleed openly for the right woman. And that woman was Erica Wild. But my faithful heart was a fucking curse, especially at that moment. Because it refused to let me acknowledge I was wrong about her, about us.

Even as I settled into the role I was expected to play, I didn’t play it well. I tried everything, and no part of me wanted to forget. Loving her was torture. And the realization that I was still so much in love with her, well, that was the cruelest punishment.

Guilt I shouldn’t have felt washed over me at that moment. I regretted everything I’d done with any other woman. I’d hurt her back, and she made it known today. I had no reason to feel guilty.

Damn her.

“Ren?”

“Don’t,” I warned as she stood behind me. Never in my life had I been so angry. “Go back to your room.”

She didn’t move. I could smell vanilla and mint. It drifted through my nose, and my chest burned at the memory of her taste. Throat constricting, I slammed my palm against the button.

“Go,” I threatened, my voice a warning.

“No.”

I whirled on her then, her eyes bulging as I closed in. She was in a T-shirt and pajama pants, without a stitch of makeup, and looked so innocent at that moment. I hated her for it because I knew she wasn’t.

In an instant, I had her pinned against the wall, my lips capturing hers in a deep kiss, my tongue tasting every inch of her mouth. She was gasping as she gripped me tightly to her, her moan vibrating through us both as our tongues dueled hungrily.

And I’d never felt so fucking alive. I lifted her to wrap her legs around me, and she squeezed my hips with her thighs while I ground my rock-hard cock right where she needed it.

“Ren,” she gasped, eyes closed as we shared breath. Again, I devoured her, leaving her limp before I ripped my lips away and glared down at her.

“I’m so fucking mad at you.”

“I know,” she countered with swollen lips.

“Damn you,” I cursed as I rubbed myself against her and sank my teeth into her neck.

“Ren, please,” she begged, working her hips and clawing at my shoulders.

Her heavy breath tickled my ear as I touched where I wanted to touch and began to use her to stifle the pain. But she was the source of it.

It was then that I stopped myself and slowly lowered her to her feet. I had to break unhealthy patterns, starting with her. I’d promised myself, and that was the most crucial promise for me to keep. She hadn’t allowed me to keep the promises I’d made to her.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” I said, stepping away from her. Chest heaving, she gaped up at me in a daze. “I guess some things don’t change. We were always good at fucking.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, taking a step toward me. “We were more than that.”

“Were we? I thought so too. Except you left me, and then you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“I couldn’t. You wouldn’t listen to me.”

“I’m listening,” I snapped, shoving my hands in my jeans and staring at the floor.

She was quick to speak. “It was selfish. I know that now. I knew it then. But I didn’t want to be that woman. My whole life couldn’t revolve around you and baseball, Ren.”

“I needed you,” I said thickly.

She crossed her arms defensively. “But for how long?”

My eyes snapped to hers. “How about my whole goddamn life? I was going to ask you to marry me.”

“I know.” She swallowed. “I saw the ring.”

She hung her head when she saw the surprise in my eyes. “Ren, I was terrified.”

“You saw the ring?”

“Yes,” she said as her eyes clouded with more tears. “I didn’t want to be a club wife. I never wanted that. But there are things you should know. Things I didn’t tell you. Things that I should have told you.”

The doors finally opened as I took a step back into them. My heart crushed under the weight of her words; my voice was gravel. I couldn’t look at her another minute.

“I promise you, as far as I’m concerned, you’ll get what you want.”

Her face crumbled as the doors closed between us.