Layne
THREE DAYS.
That’s how long ago my date with Nash was. Three freaking days and no word from him. I knew this would happen. I freaking knew it, and yet it surprises me. The look on his face when he froze on my front porch was priceless.
The last thing I expected to see was fear. I’m still completely oblivious to what spooked him, but there is no doubt in my mind Bryant Nash is a bad idea for me.
When I called him Slam, I saw the flinch and realized how much he truly hates the nickname. It confuses me though, because I remember a time not all that long ago when I watched interviews with him where he referred to himself in the third person as Slam. It was obnoxious and made me not like him much. My dad thought it was hilarious. Me, not so much. How can you take someone seriously when they say things like, “Slam doesn’t do feelings and relationships,” when answering a question about a potential love interest.
Slam doesn’t do feelings and relationships.
And all of a sudden, the look of fear on his face makes sense now, and it makes me almost chuckle. Bryant Nash is scared.
He almost looked shocked when he asked me out in the first place, and there was fear on his face when he ran after he kissed me on the front porch.
Bryant Nash is into me, and he’s running scared.
Great. Another man who has a fear of commitment.
Nope.
Not going down that damn street again. I did that once with a man I didn’t love and ended up tied to him forever by our beautiful little girl. Sure, Garrett is engaged now, but nine years ago when I found out I was pregnant with Gracie, he was also not ready to settle down.
I will not put myself in that position again.
And so I need to put him out of my head and move on with my life.
One day.
One day I will find a man worthy of Gracie and me.
That day is not today, and that man is not Slam Nash.
GRACIE AND I are making our way through the thin crowd to get to our seats. We always come early so we don’t have to fight the crowd. My dad was a season ticket holder for as long as I can remember. We went to almost all of the home games, and Gracie and I are carrying on the tradition. Coming to the games with her makes him feel closer to us.
I’d considered canceling coming today, but she had her heart set on it and I hate to disappoint her simply because I don’t want to see him. That’s selfish and stupid. Hell, he’s probably already forgotten all about me. Plus, Mandy said she’d kick my ass. When I’d told her about our great date, followed by the disastrous ending, she told me under no circumstance was I to stop going to the games with Gracie because Bryant is a jackass.
Trying to maneuver an overly-excited eight-year-old, two drinks, two hot dogs, and a large bag of popcorn is not easy. As we make our way down the stairs to our seats, I notice there is a man sitting at the beginning of our row, scrolling on his phone. When I step in front of him to pass to our seats, I trip over his foot, almost losing everything in my arms. His quick reflexes save the food and sets me upright. How is that even possible?
“I’m so sorry,” I stumble out, inadvertently grabbing his forearm to steady myself with the hand now free of the food falling out of it.
The moment my eyes meet his, I almost gasp. He’s gorgeous.
“Are you okay?” His voice is so deep it almost sounds fake.
My reply is stuck in my throat before Gracie’s squeals break me from the trance I’m in.
“Mommy!” Gracie screams, immediately making me shift my eyes to hers. “Look! It’s Conor!” My eyes swing the direction she is pointing and collide with Bryant, his jaw clenched tight with his eyes narrowed on the guy still holding my arm.
“I see him, baby,” I reply to her with a smile.
Returning my attention back to the man who saved me from dumping fifty dollars’ worth of food on the ground, I smile brightly.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” I reply as calmly as possible. He smiles politely before gently removing his hand from my arm and handing me the popcorn he saved from disaster.
I usher Gracie further down the row to our seats on the other end. Once I get her situated in her seat, I turn to sit on my own and find the mystery guy watching my every move. I smile and turn my attention to the field, my eyes clashing with the side of Nash’s face.
The anger on his face is unmistakable. He is glaring daggers at the man down my row, whose attention is solely on me.
I’m not sure who the hell he thinks he is or why he’s angry another man is paying attention to me. He made it perfectly clear where things stood between us when he bolted after our date and then made no attempt to contact me since. This whole situation makes me uncomfortable, and I wonder if maybe we should leave. I’m reminded how much she loves coming when Gracie squeals again and points to the big screen near the ceiling as it plays a trailer for a new Disney movie she’s been wanting to see. All right, we’re staying. Plus, they’re only a few handfuls of games from potentially heading to the playoffs, and we’re not missing this!
I reach down to pick up my drink and startle when I feel a presence behind me, causing me to jump and almost spill my drink in my lap. Dammit. I just managed another smooth move in front of the guy I tripped over. He probably thinks I’m a total moron.
“Can I help you?” I bark out, not meaning to sound like an asshole, but he scared the shit out of me.
“I’m so sorry,” he replies, taking a step back, with a huge smile plastering his face. His smile is beautiful, and I find myself staring at his perfect teeth. His dark chocolate skin is smooth and stubble free. His eyes are so soulful, I almost feel like I could get lost in them. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to see if you might be interested in having dinner with me sometime?” His deep voice stumbles like he’s nervous and breaks me from the trance his eyes have me in.
My face must show the shock I’m feeling from a total stranger asking me out because his face falls a little.
Before I can answer, I hear a voice I don’t recognize. “Sorry, buddy, she’s busy.”
What the hell? I whip around toward the voice, not knowing what to expect, but the sight of Conor McLoughney standing by the edge of the field glaring daggers at both of us is not it.
The guy looks from me to Conor and back again before mumbling out a quick apology and retreating back over to his seat. I can’t tear my eyes away and instantly feel bad for him.
What in the hell just happened?
I’ve never even met Conor before.
And then I watch as Conor saunters over to a very pissed-off looking Bryant Nash and bumps fists with him, all while Nash’s eyes are burning holes into mine.
I can’t even remotely hide the humorless laugh that bursts out of me. Gracie looks at me confused, and I ruffle her hair and take my seat. He’s lost his damn mind if he thinks he has any say in what I do. His face softens and he smirks when he sees me laughing. He must think I find it cute he went all caveman and sent his best friend over here to run the guy off. Lifting my hand to my face, I scratch the nonexistent itch at the corner of my nose with my middle finger, never taking my eyes off his. The moment he realizes I’m flipping him off, his glare returns.
Enough is enough. I tear my eyes from his and vow not to look at him again for the rest of the game.
I’LL ADMIT, NOT looking at the third baseman during a baseball game is hard, especially when he makes some amazing plays. When Gracie jumps from her seat and screams how amazing he is after a double play in the seventh inning, he looks directly at her, points and winks. I thought she was going to pass out from excitement.
“Mama! Did you see that? Nash heard me, and he pointed and winked at me!” she screeches at the top of her lungs. I laugh with her and jump up and down because she is on cloud nine and I’m not about to ruin the moment for her. The smile on her face is off the charts and makes me soften to him a tiny bit. A super tiny little bit.
When the game is over, Gracie and I grab all our things and walk to the exit. I’m exhausted and ready for a good night sleep. We dump our trash in the huge trash bins set up by the concession stands and make our way out to the parking lot.
The entire walk to the car, Gracie is rattling off stats from the game. I’m listening and laughing at her excitement.
“Do you think we could go to the World Series if the Smoke goes?” she screams loudly.
“Baby, you’ve gotta stop screaming. My head is gonna explode,” I say, laughing. “They haven’t even made it to the playoffs yet. Let’s see how the next few games go before we start making plans. Plus, the tickets are crazy expensive.”
“Dang it,” she mumbles. “I really wanna go.” She’s shuffling her feet and kicking rocks when we reach the car.
“I’ll make you a promise. If the Smoke goes to the World Series, I’ll do everything in my power to take you to the home games. Even if I have to sell a kidney to pay for the tickets.”
She scrunches up her face in disgust, and I laugh out, pulling her into me and hugging her tight.
Once back home, we change into our jammies and cuddle up on the couch to watch TV. Tomorrow she’s at her dad’s because I’m closing. I hate being away from her so much the weeks Garrett has her Wednesday and Thursday and then all weekend. I feel like I’m missing out on her life those days.
After I get her tucked into bed, it takes me no time at all to get myself settled. I’m exhausted. As my head hits the pillow, my phone chimes. It’s plugged into the charger on the other side of the room, and I’m not getting up again. Then it chimes again, and my curiosity gets the best of me.
Bryant: I’m outside your house. I need to talk to you.
My heart starts thumping loudly. What the hell is he doing here?
Bryant: Come on, Layne. I saw the lights go out as I pulled up a few minutes ago. I know you’re not asleep yet.
I throw on a robe and quietly tiptoe to the door. Gracie would freak out if she woke up and saw him here. Freak out!
I open the door gently and slide my body out the crack, shutting it behind me. Turning to him quickly, I’m about to give him a piece of my mind when he steps forward, threads his fingers into the back of my hair and kisses me like his life depends on it. My first reaction is to smack the shit out of him for touching me and for the way he acted after our date the other night, but my body is a traitor and melts into him.
He deepens the kiss and I let him, grabbing onto his shirt with both hands to steady myself. When he pulls back slowly, he peppers my lips with soft kisses before pressing his forehead to mine. His kisses taste like bubble gum, and it makes me crave more of him.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what that was, for fear you’ll bolt again,” I say tentatively, closing my eyes and bracing myself for his retreat.
“I’m not gonna bolt.” His tone is firm as he takes a step back from me, breaking our connection.
“What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in? I want to talk to you.”
“Gracie is sleeping, and I don’t want to risk her seeing you here. She’d scream her head off if she caught you here,” I tell him with a chuckle.
He takes a step back toward me, grabbing my hands in his.
“I guess we’ll have this conversation here, because I can’t leave until I explain my actions the other night.”
I nod but don’t speak.
“I’ve never wanted a relationship for a reason. I’ve been in the MLB since I was a kid, Layne. I’ve lived and breathed baseball for so long, I don’t know anything else. I travel for games. I travel for my endorsements. I travel all the time. And even though I’m retiring after this season, I’ll still be traveling because I’ll be coaching.” He takes a deep breath and sits down on the step, pulling my hand down with him. Sitting next to him and looking at the expression on his face makes my heart soften a little.
“I really like you. I’m not even remotely exaggerating when I say I’ve never met a woman quite like you. You’re smart and beautiful and funny, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially me. You don’t need someone like me tromping into your life with all my bullshit,” he says honestly. He leans forward and places a gentle kiss to my lips. “But for the life of me, I don’t know how to stay away from you.” Kiss. “I think about you all the time.” Kiss.
Placing my hand on his chest so he’ll put some space between us, I look into his eyes and see nothing but sincerity.
“Bryant, I don’t know what to say. I mean, I get why you’ve never had a relationship. I really do. Traveling and being in a relationship is no picnic I’m sure. But why are you telling me these things? We went on one date.”
He once again grabs my hands and looks down at them, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles.
“Because I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole,” he says, chuckling. “I know we’ve only gone on one date, but since I’m basically spilling my guts to you, I’d be stupid not to admit I feel a connection to you like I don’t think I’ve ever felt before.”
He stands, pulling me with him. “But the thing is,” he starts again, “what I feel for you is a distraction I can’t afford. I need to focus on my season, on my career.”
Although I get what he’s saying, because he’s right, it still sort of feels like he kicked me in the gut. I’m not sure why I’m going over this in my head right now. I’d already decided he and I are a bad idea. A man afraid to commit? Been there, done that, no desire for a replay.
I’m not sure how he expected me to react to this information, but he cringes at the last part like he’s expecting me to blow up.
“Um, first of all, I get it. You’ve worked your whole life for this chance. Why would you risk it by being distracted by a woman you just met? That’s stupid,” I tell him quickly. I watch as his face goes from concerned to surprised in a split second.
“With that said, what makes you think I want a relationship? I enjoyed our date the other night, minus the freak out at the end, but I have more important things to focus on than a bad boy baseball player.” He looks almost wounded so I continue. “Look, I like you too. I have fun hanging out with you, but I’m a workaholic and, above all else, a mom. I don’t have time for games.” I wish I could make my heart believe all the words I’m spewing. Because at the end of the day, he’s right. We do have a connection, but baseball will always come first for him.
I understand why, but I’d never put myself and my daughter in a position to be second best for anyone.
He takes a deep breath before he responds. “So, do you think we can be friends? I mean, you’re not going to kick me out of the bar now, are you? I like coming and hanging out with you.”
I smile in response, but my heart plummets. We’re agreeing to be friends, knowing the kind of chemistry between us. This is probably a really bad idea.
“I guess it’s settled then,” I agree. He starts to pull me into him again, but I place my hand on his chest and press him back. “Friends don’t hug and kiss, Bryant.”
“You’re right.” He chuckles. “I’m sorry.”
He pulls my hand away from his chest, placing a kiss on the top, before letting go and walking away. When he gets to his car, he looks back up at me and winks.
“I’ll come by the bar later this week when this series of games is over,” he assures me.
My only response is to smile and wave.