“Deal.” Grams squirts the bottle of cheese again, but nothing comes out, so she tosses it behind her and gets up slowly from the couch. “Have fun. Daisy, I hog the bed so it’s best you sleep on the couch. Plus, I get the toots at night.”
Grams takes off for the stairs, cane in hand, while we all giggle at each other.
I look at my watch and say, “All right, let’s take half an hour to get ready. I’m going to need some clothes so get out some of your sluttiest outfits for me.”
Daisy and Amanda run upstairs and I’m left cleaning up our junk food. As I’m sealing up untouched Pop-Tarts, my phone rings.
Jace.
I need to answer. I haven’t talked to him much since my trip to Arizona, for obvious reasons. I don’t know what to say and I sure as hell don’t know what I want. But my neglect is starting to become obvious so I answer.
“Hey.”
“Ah, you answered finally. I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
Nothing blows by him. “Never. Just been busy, you know.”
“I don’t actually, since you haven’t talked to me lately.”
Yeah, I deserve that one. Avoidance after sex is never the best thing. It can help someone develop a complex, not that Jace has to worry. Nope, he’s pretty much perfect when it comes to sex. I mean, mind-blowing.
And that’s what makes my stomach churn. With Eric, it was sexy, intimate, loving. We made love while looking each other in the eyes. But with Jace, it was an entirely different experience. It was so raw, so unfiltered, anything went. And the burning need, it turned me into ashes. I was a pile of dust by the end, being blown away by Jace’s powerful force. I never thought I could feel this way with another man, and yet, Jace almost makes me feel more.
Terrifying.
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say because I’m in the wrong. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I had an excuse to use, but I have nothing.
“Are you regretting what we did?”
Yes, so many regrets, but also, I’m so thankful it did happen. Conflicting thoughts are beginning to eat me alive.
“No.” I sit down at the bar in the kitchen. “I’m just trying to process everything, that’s all.”
“Well, process it with me, Hollyn. Shutting me out isn’t going to help anything.”
“It’s the only way I know how to deal. I shut everything out and wish it to go away.”
“Mature.” He chuckles. “Talk me through it. What has you tied in knots?”
The clock in the kitchen is telling me I have twenty minutes to get ready and I know this conversation is going to be much longer than that.
“I can’t right now. I’m going out with the girls for Amanda’s bachelorette party.”
“Are you just saying that to avoid me?”
“No, I swear, we’re going out.”
“That’s inconvenient, because I’m flying in later tonight after a team meeting and was hoping to see you.”
“Why are you flying in?” I avoid his request, not sure how I really want to handle it.
“I have a meeting with my lawyers early in the morning. I fly out in the afternoon to make it back for a preseason game.”
“Oh, well good luck,” I answer awkwardly.
“Hollyn—”
“Listen, I have to get ready for tonight.”
He exhales heavily on the other side of the phone. “Don’t push me away. Remember what we said from the very beginning? Be honest, Hollyn. This avoidance shit isn’t going to work for me.”
Not sure what to say, I reply, “I really have to go.”
“Yup, okay. Talk to you later.” He hangs up, his last sentence full of disdainful sarcasm.
This is why I shouldn’t be allowed to adult. This is why I should have never come out of my dark little cave, because now everything is so damn complicated.
JACE
Frustrated, I toss my phone in my locker, not caring if I break it. Right about now, I could use the caring Hollyn whose soft touch captures me and pulls me away from reality, if only for an hour. Instead, the woman is avoiding me. Again.
And I know why, she’s scared. I just want her to admit to it. From the sound of our conversation, there is a good possibility she never will.
Fuck.
My towel draped around my waist, I lean back in the chair in front of my locker. My thoughts scatter from Hollyn, to Hope, to June and Alex, to practice, and how I couldn’t field a damn ball to save my life. Rookie of the Year can’t look past his current troubles and focus on the game. Coach and the front office are well aware of my situation, but they aren’t going to cut me a break for much longer. They are going to want to see results sooner than later.
The rest of the team is milling about, waiting for Coach to address us, so I take the moment to eye Ethan who I have yet to talk to, despite his feeble attempts. What does he really have to say? Probably what he should have told me a month ago. He’s a little late now.
From across the room, he sits in his chair and laces up his shoes. Is he going to see Rebecca after this? Will they be going over their plan of attack? Do they want to raise the baby together? That thought never crossed my mind until just now, which throws out my entire notion of slamming Rebecca for having unsuitable living arrangements. I know how much Ethan makes, and he would easily be able to provide for them. The new addition would be pocket change to him.
Does he want to father Hope? Doesn’t he know he’s so far past breaking the bro-code that he should have his card revoked?
My phone beeps with an incoming message. It’s from June. Attached is a picture of Hope, a bow on her head, a smile on her face. Holy shit, she looks so much like me with blonde hair and blue eyes. There is no doubt she’s my daughter.
So delicate, so damn happy, that it physically pains me to receive the message.
She’s happy, why does Rebecca want to disturb that?
“Hey, can we talk?” Ethan says, pulling me from my thoughts.
Slowly, I look up at him. Way to pick the wrong time, dickhead.
“It might be in your best interest to turn around and walk the other way.”
“Jace, don’t be like that. Man up and talk to me.”
“Man up?” I stand, cinching my towel in place. “You’re telling me to man up? This coming from the guy who should have told me he was in a relationship with my daughter’s birth mom.”
“I was going to tell you. There wasn’t a good time.”
“Yeah, okay. Because we didn’t hang out all post-season.” I say with sarcasm. “What kind of a friend are you, man?”
“If you still like her—”
“Fuck Rebecca,” I shout, drawing the attention of the entire clubhouse. I guess we are doing this here. “I don’t care what kind of intimate relationship you have with her. What I care about is how you knowingly listened to me talk about Rebecca’s plans and never said anything. You knew how I felt, how this was the biggest decision of my life and how it ate me alive, and as a friend, you devalued what we had by not being honest with me.” I pause and then run my hand through my hair. “Fuck, dude. Would it have killed you to say something?”
“She didn’t want me to,” he replies. What the hell?