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On the DL (The MVP Duet Book 1) by Laramie Briscoe (13)

Thirteen

Malone

Is it possible to be both glad and disappointed? If it is, that’s how I feel when I see the lights of the Gilbert and Sons wrecker as it pulls up to where Slater and I stand between our vehicles. He drops his hand from my neck. The warmth from where he touched me is gone, allowing a coolness to seep into my bones.

“Hey Nash, thanks for coming out.” I wave as a guy we grew up with hops down from what is actually a rollback. I’m not surprised to see him out at this time of the morning. Last I heard his wife and child passed away in a car accident. Since then he’s lived and breathed his job.

“How are you two doing?” His voice is quiet and can barely be heard over the noise his vehicle makes.

“I’ve been better.” I tilt my head to my tire, flat as a pancake now.

“Shit.” He takes his hat off, pushing his hair back with his fingers. It doesn’t escape my gaze that he still wears his wedding ring. “They’re doing so much damn construction over here, building houses and taking up farmland, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten anything before now. You’re my fourth one on this stretch this week. The companies really need to learn to clean up after themselves.”

“Doesn’t help that there’s no light on this road,” I run my hands up and down my arms, still creeped out by having been out here by myself. “Didn’t see it until I came right up on it.”

He squats to inspect the damage, before looking up at me. “You’re lucky you didn’t bend the rim or shred the tire. Should be an easy fix. Want me to take it to the shop, fix it, and then drop it off to you?”

“That would be awesome, that way I could go to work. I’m working at Sweeties, so you can drop it there.”

“Sounds good, give me your number, and I’ll be in touch.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and we exchange the info we need. “You want a ride over there?”

Slater speaks up from where he’s been standing beside me, saying nothing. “I’ll take her since I’m already awake. C’mon, let’s go, Mal.”

* * *

“You know, you really didn’t have to do this,” I tell Slade as we park in front of the bakery. I’m running late, and I don’t really have a lot of time to mess with him, but I want to at least thank him for taking on my problem and helping me with it. “But I do thank you immensely for it.”

“It’s no big deal, it’s what friends do, right?” He runs his hands along the steering wheel, causing me to notice just how long his fingers are. For a brief moment I wonder what they’d feel like all over my body again.

“Friends?” I smirk over at him. “I think we’re fooling ourselves if we think we’re going to be platonic friends, Slade. I mean that kiss last night…” I trail off, remembering vividly just how it affected me.

“Kept you up too?” he asks, letting go of the steering wheel, running his hands along the shorts he wears.

“Made me remember shit I should probably forget,” I admit.

“Where do we go from here?”

His voice is quiet in the early morning darkness, the dashboard lights show green in the dimness. Bouncing off his face, it creates shadows against his jawbone and the planes of his cheeks. His hair is mussed, and I’d do anything to run my fingers through it right now.

That’s the hardest question he’s ever asked me and the one I want the answer to the most. “Maybe we try to get to know each other again, figure out where we are.”

“Sounds like a good start for me.” He holds up his phone. “I’ll text you, you text me, and maybe we’ll meet for lunch or something? It’s how we got to know each other before, but back then we talked on the phone. Don’t know about you, but I’m not much for talking on the phone these days.”

I’m hesitant, but he’s got a point. If we want to try this again, maybe we go back to basics, figure out if we still even like each other. It won’t hurt if we don’t, and hopefully if it comes to that, we’ll come out on the other side with a friendship still intact. “I’m not either, so text me.” I give him a smile as I get out of his SUV. “Thanks for the ride, Slade.”

“No problem, I never wanna see you hurt, no matter what’s gone on between us.”

I wave and head into the bakery, ready to start this day and hope that it doesn’t get any weirder.

Savage

When I get back home I have a text from Nash asking if he needs to bother Malone with the bill or not, and when I tell him no, I know that things are going to change between she and I. I’m taking responsibility for her, and I realize with a clarity I didn’t have before, maybe I want to.

The text I get from her later on in the day is just about what I expect.

M: Why did you pay to have my car repaired? You shouldn’t do that, Slade. It’s not your responsibility.

S: It may not be, but I wanted to help you out. That’s on me, not you, and if I want to do it, then let me.

She’s quiet for a long time, and I wonder if I’ve offended her, but eventually the answer comes through.

M: Then I’ll say thank you, but please don’t do anything else like that without consulting me first. I’ve been independent a long time.

S: You’re welcome, and it’s understood.

M: So what are your hobbies these days, when you’re not hitting baseballs out of ballparks and rescuing damsels in distress?

And over the next few weeks, as we text back and forth, I vow to myself to get to know her. The her now, the her that’s grown up and changed, and I vow to let her get to know the new me. Neither of us are the same as we were ten years ago, and it’s time we stopped trying to put each other in a box that neither one of us fits into anymore. And that’s what I’m going to do, starting right now.

S: I got the tattoos because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do once I went to the majors. Everybody else had them and I wanted to look like a badass. It was a way to make them think I’m tougher than I am.

M: Really? I always thought you were pretty tough. I mean, you did beat up that dude who touched my ass in the tenth grade.

S: Good old Derek Deardorf. Wonder where he is now?

M: Probably in sex rehab somewhere. He got his ass kicked again in the eleventh and twelfth grades by other guys.

I laugh as I put my phone down and continue my PT work out.

“Running next week, Savage. You ready?” Mack asks, a huge smile on his face.

“More ready than you’ll ever know.”

M: I got my nose ring because I looked like a loser at the office. Everyone there had either different color hair or sleeves of colorful tattoos. Even though it was a professional setting, we were the hip department. When a comment was made about my lack of colorful adornments, I decided to get the nose ring.

S: I like it. It’s understated and sexy at the same time. You’ve never had to be the type of person to be flashy. I hate that someone made you feel like you weren’t good enough the way you are.

It takes her a long time to answer after I type out that sentence and I worry I’ve either scared her off or pissed her off. Just as I’m about to start backpeddling another message from her comes through.

M: I hate that I’m the person who did that to you.

S: It hurt back then Mal, I can’t lie to you and say it didn’t, but I’m a big boy now. I see things a lot differently than I did back then. Neither one of us knew where I was going, we had no idea where I was going to end up, and maybe it was stupid of me to think you’d follow me on blind faith.

M: I should have followed you on love. That’s what anyone else would have done.

S: Are you drunk??

M: Just super tired.

She’s got to be exhausted, working the way she does and getting up so early. I glance at the clock, realizing it’s after ten. I feel guilty for keeping her up.

S: I should let you get some sleep.

M: No, I love talking to you, it helps me not to be so lonely. I talk to Kayla sometimes, but she’s got kids and so much already going on in her life. Talking with you helps keep me from going insane.

S: Same here, but maybe we should set a time limit on it..lol!

M: No! No limits, I like the way things are moving right now, at their own pace.

Part of me wonders if she’s talking about the relationship we’ve sort of entered into. We text every day, but we’ve only seen each other once or twice since her tire situation. While I’m enjoying the pace we’re moving at, I want to see her, want to hear her voice.

S: At the risk of ruining that pace… Would you be willing to go out on a date with me?

M: A date???? Are you serious right now?

I’m nervous that this was a bad idea, but I want to see her, want to know if I still feel that same flash of awareness I felt when we held hands at the track. Some would say I’m wondering all of this because she’s familiar, and they may be right, but then again they may be wrong too. We’ll never know what may be until we give it a shot.

One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been down with this injury is that you miss every shot you never take. With her, I don’t want to live with regrets, I already have so many. If this is our opportunity, I’m gonna be damned if I let it pass by without putting up at least a fight for it.

I’m tired of living with the wondering what could have been. Now I want to know what will be.

S: Yeah. I like talking to you, but I want to hear your voice, I wanna see your facial expressions.

M: We can FaceTime.

S: Not the same. I’d like to be able to touch you if the mood strikes.

She’s quiet for a long time and I know I’ve blown this. She was just confiding in me she liked our pace, then I had to go and fuck it up. I knew I would do this, knew I would be too anxious to have a spot in her life again. Fuck me for not being patient. I know I can, I am on the field all the time, but I don’t understand why I can’t be with her. I always have to push – that’s what got me in trouble last time.

M: I’d love to! Come pick me up?

S: I’ll be there tomorrow night with bells on. Drive-in okay with you?

M: Perfect.

And just like that I know two things: She and I have a second chance and I won’t be getting a wink of sleep tonight. I’ll be too busy thinking of scenarios so I don’t fuck it up.

S: See you then!

M: See you, Slade.

I punch the air and scream out loud, thankful that no one can hear me.

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