Something startled me. I awoke suddenly, sitting straight up. The sounds of the house had never bothered me when I’d been here alone. I’d lived here for nearly three years and spent more nights by myself than I could count. But it wasn’t just a noise, there was someone in the house. I tried to calm my hammering heart and slow my breathing to listen more carefully, hoping maybe it had been a dream. Whoever was here was in the hall, and I could hear them approaching. The heavy footsteps, followed by something being dragged behind them, echoed in my mind while I sat there—doing nothing. I didn’t hide, I didn’t look for my cell phone to call nine-one-one. Nothing. This was the part in scary movies where I would yell at the screen for the moron to move instead of sitting like a waiting duck.

Yet I was paralyzed.

I finally snapped out of it, tossed the covers off my body, and then threw my legs over the side of my bed and tiptoed to my bedroom door. With my ear pressed against the cold wood, I tried to place exactly where the intruder was in the house, but the second I realized they were on the other side of the barrier I had my face plastered to, the knob turned—the one I hadn’t locked when I got up—and I screamed instead of retreating. The door slammed into me when it was pushed open with far more force than necessary.

I shrieked in fear when firm arms wrapped around my body, securing me to a solid chest. But I still didn’t recognize my captor until I inhaled his familiar scent. I pushed away and slapped at him.

“Jesus, Coby. You scared the crap out of me. What the hell are you doing here?” I didn’t wait for him to respond before firing more questions. “Why aren’t you on the road? And why didn’t you tell me you were coming home when I talked to you last night? Do you have any idea how many years you just took off my life?”

He reached for my wrist and tugged me back into his embrace. He didn’t answer any of the multitude of things I’d asked; instead, he held on tight and inhaled deeply. However, this wasn’t my friend coming home from the road—there was something heavy in his hug.

“Coby?” I breathed his name against his chest, barely offering a whisper.

He kissed the top of my head. “Why don’t you get dressed and come talk to me in the kitchen?”

“Okay.” That one word was hesitant.

Coby and I didn’t talk in the kitchen. It was always one of our bedrooms, usually on the bed lying next to each other, and if the subject was touchy, the bedroom door was about as formal as we’d ever been.

He wasn’t supposed to be home for another few days. I had no clue if something had happened in the game, but whatever it was, it surprised me that he hadn’t mentioned it when we’d talked after my graduation party last night. His stroll down memory lane should have triggered something in me other than reminiscing about the past. Obtaining my degree hadn’t caused the nostalgia of our youth. I should have known something was wrong—but I just figured he was homesick. It didn’t happen often, yet every once in a while, Coby missed the normalcy of life before the Major Leagues.

He let me go, then turned and trudged across the hall. I watched as he dragged his bags behind him, clearly the sound I’d heard along with his downtrodden steps. His shoulders sagged, and his head hung just slightly.

Deciding to get to him as quickly as possible, I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and tied it in a knot, brushed my teeth, and then wrapped a robe around my tank top and boy shorts. We’d never been modest, especially not since we’d had sex, but I obliged his request all the same and padded my way to the front of the house.

I found him perched on a barstool with his elbows on the granite and his face in his hands—surrounded by flowers. Gobs of blooms occupied every free space in the kitchen from the insane displays he’d sent me since he hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony. Unsure of what to do, I scooted the largest vase to the side, freeing up some space. I took the seat next to him and gently flattened my palm against his back. When he lifted his head, I rubbed circles along his spine, trying to comfort him the way I always saw my mom do when we were kids.

When his eyes met mine, the soft brown I’d memorized since childhood appeared haunted.

“The team terminated my contract yesterday.” He spat the words like they burned his tongue.

The beauty of the flowers around us faded with the weight of his news. I waited for more, although clearly, he wasn’t offering anything. “For what? Can they do that?” My voice rose an octave in shock and came off more like a whiny child than a college-educated adult.

He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, closing his eyes slowly before reopening them to start answering questions. The defeat in his expression nearly broke me.

“My shoulder—”

“I don’t understand…lots of players get injured and don’t lose their contracts. Surely there was something more?”

He took a deep breath and began to tell me what had taken place. “I got called into Coach’s office. Steve and Lou were there with him. I thought I knew what was coming, but I didn’t have a clue. I was completely blindsided—which you’d think I’d be used to since I can’t see shit coming at me.”

“So, what did they say?” I couldn’t figure out why he was dragging this out.

“They confronted me about my shoulder. I thought I could play it off, except they already knew. About everything.”

“What do you mean, everything?” I prayed he wasn’t talking about Atlanta.

“Someone tipped off the owner—or maybe just Coach, I’m not sure—about my visits to the specialist at Emory. They had all the facts—down to the name of the doctor I saw, the MRI, and the surgery. All of it.”

I immediately went on the defensive. “Coby, who could’ve possibly told them?”

He shrugged. “I asked that same question, still, they refused to tell me. All I know for sure is this person told them I hid it because I’d lose everything and have to leave Tuscaloosa if the team found out. Steve said it was an ex-ballplayer with an ax to grind, but for the life of me, I can’t think of anyone who would try to destroy me. I haven’t made any enemies…that I’m aware of.”

My mind raced. The words were too similar to what I’d said to Ryan when we’d argued about our Christmas plans. In spite of it, there was no way he’d do that to Coby’s career. Especially since he got his way in the end, anyhow—I’d gone to lunch at his parents’ house for the holiday.

“When we were in Arizona, they made me go see another specialist, one of their choosing—who had the team’s best interest at heart and would protect their assets. God, Ellie, they were so pissed. They told me they owned my arm the day I signed on the dotted line, and that I was foolish to believe that another team who had deeper pockets wouldn’t have had the doctor in Atlanta botch the job so I couldn’t pitch. I’ve never felt so dumb in my life.”

“Just because you don’t think people are vindictive doesn’t make you dumb, Coby…naïve maybe. But personally, I think it’s one of your most redeeming qualities—you always assume the best of people.” I wasn’t sure how I was even keeping up with the conversation. All I could think of was throttling Ryan. If he thought we had issues before, he’d just taken them off the chart—we were at DEFCON five.

“Anyway, Steve took me to a doctor in Arizona while the rest of the team went to the stadium. We were there the entire day while the office ran every test under the sun, including another MRI.”

“And?” I could surmise what the answer was, yet I couldn’t bring myself to believe that at twenty-two, Coby’s career was over. I had been there during his surgery and recovery—not to mention, if something had gone wrong, he would’ve told me about it.

“There’s too much damage. That final throw at Family Day pulled the nerve too far, stretched it beyond repair.”

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand, nearly knocking over the flower arrangement I’d just moved. “That can’t be right, Coby. I bet with rest it’ll be fine. Maybe after a year off, another team will pick you up.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “E.T., the stunt I pulled in December—seeing a doctor without the team’s knowledge, allowing them to perform surgery without permission—that alone blackballed me from ever playing on another team in the league. Even if I could still play and wasn’t dropped from the Titans’ roster, no one would have ever picked me up after this contract ran out.”

“There’s nothing that can be done to fix it? Rehab? Physical therapy? It’s not like you can’t afford the best that money has to offer. Maybe you just need another opinion. I’ve heard other countries have much more progressive medical procedures than the United States because the FDA takes forever approving treatments or something. Maybe international medicine is the way to go.”

“If I keep playing and the nerve snaps, I could be looking at a nerve graft, nerve transfer, or even muscle transfer…none of which will guarantee positive results, and all of which can lead to total or partial impairment, even paralysis. I’m done, Ellie.”

I didn’t even know where to begin to process all he’d just unloaded on me, much less how to comfort him. This had never been Coby’s dream, but from the moment he’d gotten picked in the draft, anyone who met him thought he was born for the role. This was what I had been afraid of if he hadn’t had the surgery.

I never expected it after.

“So what happens now?”

“The team is holding a press conference on Monday. I asked them to give me time to get home to tell you and my dad before announcing it publicly. I didn’t want you to find out that way. I’m so sorry, Ellie.”

I slid my hand from his back and hugged him from the side, pressing my face against his shoulder. “You have no reason to apologize to me, Coby. I never cared about baseball anyhow, but I know you do. I wish I had words of comfort, but I’m just dumbfounded.”

Silence hung in the air. Then he finally leaned his head to rest it on top of mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me last night when we talked?”

“Yesterday was too important for you to ruin it with this. You only graduate from college once.” He glanced around the kitchen at the dozens of flower arrangements I’d accumulated this weekend—most of which had come from him. “Damn, this place smells like a funeral home.” It was the lilies, but that wasn’t important.

“Hush. They’re beautiful.” A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and my eyes settled on Coby when I dismissed his scent-of-death comment. “I still wish you hadn’t carried this alone—even overnight. I’m always here for you, Coby. Always.” I wasn’t sure what else I could say. I hated that my best friend was upset, but I didn’t care about him because he played baseball. I had loved him before he was anything special, and this didn’t change that.

Without lifting his head, he stuck his finger out, and I smiled against his arm before touching it with my own. Coby had come home—to me.

* * *

I ended up making breakfast for Coby after relocating the flora and fauna to inconspicuous places in the living room, and we agreed a day of movies in our jammies was the best medicine. He knew he’d have to call his dad later, even though he wasn’t ready to rip off that Band-Aid. I couldn’t blame him. Mr. Kyler loved Coby, and he wanted nothing other than the best for him, yet losing these kinds of bragging rights as a parent would be painful. And he wouldn’t have a clue how to comfort Coby any more than I did…at least I wasn’t trying to do it from two hours away.

“Is Justin Timberlake expecting to hang out with you tonight?” The boy band names never got old, although I refused to admit that to Coby.

“I blew him off when you were in the shower.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. The truth was, I was afraid if I saw or spoke to Ryan today, it wouldn’t end well, and Coby might have to post bail by the time it was over. I needed to cool off and make sure my best friend would survive this blow. “I can see him tomorrow.”

“Was he supposed to come over? I’m sure you guys had plans.”

“It’s really not a big deal.” It wasn’t.

He eyed me suspiciously, even though he let it go. Coby was aware Ryan and I were having problems around the holidays, but I think he assumed it was all resolved since I’d gone home with Ryan for Christmas, and I hadn’t mentioned much about our relationship since then. There was no point in rehashing the same conversations over and over. I’d managed to get Ryan to agree to delay his demands until I graduated and found a job. I graduated yesterday, yet I hadn’t told anyone I’d accepted a teaching position at a private high school nearby for the fall.

Coby milked the day for all it was worth. We normally took turns picking movies when we had all-day marathons, but I let him choose everything we watched, hoping it would help ease the doom he faced by telling his dad about his career. My phone constantly dinged with messages from Ryan throughout Conan, Aliens, Lethal Weapon, and The Terminator. I ignored the majority of them and only replied with one-word answers to the others, which did nothing other than fuel the frequency of his texts.

“You’re awfully popular. Or someone’s not quite as understanding as you’d like to make him out to be?” Coby patted my leg. “It’s okay, E.T. I need to call my dad, anyhow. There aren’t enough eighties’ action flicks in the world to make it any easier. You should go meet Aaron Carter and have some fun.”

“Do you really think calling him is the best way to go, Coby? Maybe we should go home so you can tell him in person. I’ll go with you.”

“I’m sure Bell Biv DeVoe would love that, but my old man will be fine with a phone call. That way, he won’t have to be all emo in front of me. Once we hang up, he can cry or scream or beat his head against a wall, and I won’t have to witness it. It’s better for both of us this way.”

I hesitated, although not for the reasons Coby thought. I knew how bad this was going to be. I’d warned Ryan, several times, that no one would ever come between Coby and me—tonight he was going to find out just how true those words were.

“Seriously, go. Have fun with O-Town.”

An hour later, I stood on Ryan’s doorstep, unsure of how to approach what only he could’ve done. My hands shook with the adrenaline coursing through them. What I felt went so far beyond anger I didn’t have a word for it—Ryan’s jealousy had reared its ugly head for the last time. Straightening my shoulders, I took a deep breath and exhaled before turning the knob on the door to what was supposed to be our home by the end of the summer.

I set my keys on the table next to the door as I closed it behind me. Ryan must have heard me come in because he rounded the corner with a broad smile on his face—clearly unaware of my mood.

“Hey, Teller.” He kissed me on the cheek as he greeted me. It only took a fraction of a second for him to sense the rage radiating off my skin. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“We should probably sit for this conversation.” My tone was clipped as I pushed past him toward the living room. I intentionally took the oversized chair instead of the couch to force him away from me.

“This can’t be good. What’s on your mind?” He assumed a seat on the sofa with his knees wide, his elbows propped on each of them respectively, and dropped his hands between his legs.

“Just tell me why you did it.” I’d prepared an entire speech in the car on the way over here, but the moment I saw him, it all went by the wayside. The eloquent diatribe I’d rehearsed was reduced to a few measly words.

“Did what?” Surely, he wasn’t this dumb. There was no way he believed he could alert the League about what had happened and I wouldn’t connect it back to him—the only person besides myself, Mr. Kyler, and Dr. Chen who was privy to Coby’s time in Atlanta.

“Did you set out to destroy his career, or was that just a bonus in letting the team in on Coby’s secret?” My voice had softened yet it remained stern. Ryan didn’t even recognize the calm before the storm.

He sat up straight as a board and his eyes went wide. But he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me like a deer in front of a car. Paralyzed.

“Why. Did. You. Do. It?” If I needed to enunciate every word out of my mouth, this would take an eternity.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ellie.”

“So, you’re going to stick to that? Because I’ve never told anyone about what I thought would happen to Coby if he lost baseball. No one—except you. And it’s funny, because his coaches repeated that same sentiment to him almost verbatim.”

He stood and started pacing the living room, but he offered no explanation.

“I don’t get it, Ryan. What did you think you could possibly gain by ending Coby’s career?” And as soon as the words came out of my mouth, it dawned on me.

He wanted Coby to leave Tuscaloosa.

I’d planted the seed.

And Ryan watered it.

Apparently, telling Ryan that without baseball, Coby would have nothing keeping him here, ultimately sending him back to DeArmanville, was all the incentive he needed. He’d done everything except pack Coby’s bags for him. “You thought by removing him from the city, you’d remove him from our equation?”

“Coby does something wrong and I’m somehow the bad guy? You just waltz in here, pointing the finger at me without so much as asking if I’d even done it? Honestly, Ellie…which one of us are you dating?”

I balked and slowly batted my lashes, but not in a flirty way—in the “I must have heard you wrong” kind of way. “Don’t stand here and lie to my face. I have no doubt in my mind it was you, and by saying it wasn’t, you’re insinuating I’m an idiot.”

His posture deflated; he couldn’t deny it anymore. “I can’t compete with him, Ellie. I’ve never been able to. Do you have any idea how emasculating it is that all through college my girlfriend would go to another man’s baseball games instead of mine? Or how hard it is to explain to people why you live with a guy who isn’t me? Or maybe what it feels like to know you’ve had sex with him while at the same time, you keep putting me off?”

“No, Ryan. I don’t because you’ve never talked to me about any of it from that point of view. You just lash out when you don’t get your way. But you’ve been aware since day one—day one—about my relationship with Coby. I’ve never kept it a secret, and I’ve never lied to you about any aspect of it. The fact that you couldn’t handle it is on you, not me.”

“Couldn’t handle it? No man could. Jesus, Ellie.” He’d gone from pitiful to angry in less than five seconds. “When are you going to open your fucking eyes? No one will ever come between the two of you because you’ve created this impenetrable cocoon. Still, for whatever reason, neither of you will admit to loving the other.”

My brows furrowed. “I’ve never denied loving Coby.”

“You’re right, you’ve denied being in love with Coby. And yet it’s there. Anyone with eyes can see it. There’s a reason he’s never had a girlfriend, and it’s not just because he can’t get past third base with the ladies.”

Coby had his fair share of time with the females, I wasn’t sure why Ryan believed he hadn’t, but that wasn’t the point at hand. “You’re insane, Ryan. I can’t handle the jealousy. And I refuse to be with someone I can’t trust. You took what I told you in confidence and handed it over to the only people in the world you shouldn’t have—behind my back.”

“You never had any intentions of being with me, anyhow…you just hadn’t admitted it to yourself. Just like you haven’t admitted your feelings for Coby Kyler—but they’re there just the same.”

I’d listened to this same song and dance my entire life, and the tune never changed. “Envy is a tough pill to swallow, yet I’ve never felt about Coby the way I felt about you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be two places at once. I’m sorry it was difficult for your narrow-minded friends to understand my living situation when they all saw you and me together and should have known how I felt about you. And I’m sorry you feel slighted that the one time I’ve had sex in my life, it wasn’t with you. However, what I’m most sorry about is that you felt the only way you could deal with it was by destroying my best friend. Because that, Ryan, is unforgivable.”

“So what are you saying?”

I stared into his eyes and gave up on the last three years. I didn’t have it in me to yell or defend myself further. Every ounce of energy left my body, and when I spoke again, my voice lacked the strength to hide my defeat. “I’m saying I can’t do this with you anymore. And while you made my decision easy, you took everything from Coby.”

“You’re just going to throw away three years for a man you claim you aren’t in love with?”

“No, Ryan. I’m throwing away three years because of a man who clearly never loved me.”

I pushed past him when he tried to stop me from leaving. As I grabbed my keys, he took my arm forcefully. The bite of his fingers hurt when I attempted to pull away. The way he gripped me sent up warning flags in my mind.

I needed to get away from him.

“Let me go.”

“Don’t do this.”

“It’s done.” And with those two words, I yanked free from the man I thought I’d loved and walked out the door.

I got into my car and drove. The minutes on the clock ticked by as the miles rose on my odometer. I didn’t care where I went; I just couldn’t go home—not in this condition. When I began to cry so hard I couldn’t see, I pulled over into a grocery store parking lot. There were no other cars around, and the place had closed hours ago. I didn’t have a clue how I’d ever tell Coby he’d lost his career because of Ryan—or worse, because of me. My heart hurt realizing I’d been a part of taking something from him that he loved, and I could never give it back. I’d stolen Coby’s dream trying to pacify a boyfriend I should have ended things with ages ago, and there was nothing I’d ever be able to do to right that wrong.

Somewhere around two in the morning, I pulled into our garage. The house was dark, and I assumed Coby had long since passed out. But when I walked toward my bedroom, there he stood. His dark figure loomed in the dim hallway. I hadn’t noticed how broad his shoulders had gotten over the years or how thick his arms had become. The boy I’d loved my entire life had turned into a man when I wasn’t looking.

He didn’t move. His brooding body stood statuesque just outside my door. Waiting.

“E.T.?” The way he said my nickname told me he knew, even though he didn’t ask any questions.

“Not tonight, Coby.” I dropped my head and my shoulders slumped in defeat.

When he reached out to touch my arm, I winced. “Ellie?”

I tried to move away, but he flipped the light switch, and the red finger prints were like a neon sign glowing on my arm.

“What happened?”

I shook my head as tears streamed down my face. I didn’t have it in me to rehash the events of the evening. Not tonight. “I’m fine, Coby. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

He snaked an arm around my waist just before I made it to my sanctuary and pulled me into his embrace. Inhaling deeply, I let his scent comfort me when words failed. When he finally released his hold, I lifted up on my toes and kissed his jaw. “I love you, Coby. I hope you never doubt that.”

He held me there and repeated the words against my ear. “I love you, too, Ellie. Always.”

* * *

I spent the next twenty-four hours in hiding. Yes, it made me a coward, but I wasn’t ready to face Coby or what had taken place last night, much less what happened in the hall when I’d gotten home. I had no doubt he would have questions about my arm, and I wasn’t ready to discuss it. Nonetheless, by Monday morning, I had to face the music.

“How’d things go with your dad?” I asked as I poured myself a cup of coffee. I wasn’t sure how long Coby had been awake—by the looks of it, he hadn’t slept in days.

“Okay, I guess. He was shocked, although I think he assumed my shoulder was worse than I’d let on. Coach’s intuition, maybe? Who knows. He didn’t cry or anything, so that’s good.”

“I’m sure he’s just concerned, Coby. Parents want the best for their kids.”

I skirted around him, not sure what to say or how to act. Even eating was awkward because I felt him staring at me as if he were waiting for me to reveal something.

“What happened to your arm, Ellie?”

Well, that took approximately five minutes longer than expected. “Nothing.”

“You have a handful of blue bruises in the shapes of fingers circling your bicep…why don’t you try that answer again.”

“Ryan just grabbed me a little harder than he thought.”

I’d never heard Coby growl, but the low, guttural noise that emanated from his chest couldn’t be considered anything other than that. “Why?”

“Coby, this doesn’t have to be more than it is. The relationship is over, so let’s move on to something else.”

“Because of me?”

I couldn’t tell if he was upset thinking he’d cost me something special, or angry at the idea of Ryan putting his hands on me because of Coby. Either way, his thought process was askew.

“No, because of me. I broke things off last night.”

His head bobbed slowly in understanding. “Promise me you’ll tell me if he ever tries to hurt you again?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Coby. It’s done. We’re over.”

I didn’t want to add insult to injury, but I needed to change the subject, and I refused to let Coby face what would take place today alone.

“What time is the press conference?”

“Noon,” he deadpanned.

“Are you going to watch it?”

“Yeah, I might as well witness the toilet of my career flush with everyone else.”

“Up for company?”

He tried to tell me no, that it wasn’t a big deal, and he didn’t need me hovering, but in the end, there was no way I’d let him witness the carnage in solitude. And at eleven fifty-nine, we flipped the television to ESPN. Coby tucked me into his right side and wrapped his arm around me. I don’t think I really heard much of what was said, although I was grateful the team had only used Coby’s shoulder injury as their reason for parting ways. His coach wished him well and told the world what a great kid he was and how the team would struggle without the heart of Kyler on the mound.

When it was over, I clicked the television off. “That was a nice send-off.” I was clueless what to say in this situation.

“Yeah. I guess so. Now the only question is, what the hell do I do with my life?”

I rested my head on his shoulder and my arm over his stomach. “You know what’s great, Coby?”

He peered down as I tried to look up without moving. “What’s that?”

“You don’t have to make that decision today. Or tomorrow. Or even this year.”

Coby had a luxury most unemployed people didn’t—a fat bank account he’d never really touched. He could afford to take his time to figure out what to do next. And he didn’t have to settle—he could form a new plan.

“I guess that makes two of us, huh?”

“Well, until August fifteenth.”

He pulled back to see my face. “Why? What happens August fifteenth?”

I smiled brightly, grateful at last to share my news with someone, and hoped he was as happy as I was. “I got a job at St. Michael’s Catholic High School in Northport. I start this fall.”

“That’s awesome. Why didn’t you tell me?”

I finally sat all the way up and folded my leg under me. “I didn’t want Ryan to find out. Once the cat was out of the bag and I’d graduated, he’d push harder for me to move in…and that wasn’t going to happen. I was just trying to get through the last couple of weeks before facing it.”

“Is that what happened last night?”

“More or less.” A lot less than more, but admitting any of that wouldn’t help Coby.

“I’m sorry, E.T.” He relaxed into the sofa, spread out like guys do when they’re lounging around.

“Me too, Coby.” But I wasn’t sorry about things not working out with Ryan—I was sorry for hurting Coby in the midst of it all.