Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Drake

"What a win, Les! This Boston Bears team is looking like the best we've seen in years."

"Absolutely, Joe. Heading into the All-Star break with a four-game lead shows that adding Drake ‘Bad Ball Hitter' to our powerhouse roster was a masterstroke by management."

"I couldn't agree more. There's a lot of baseball left in the season, but we're in for an exciting ride."

"No doubt about it. Well, folks, that's it for today. This is Les…"

"And Joe."

"Signing off from Fenway. We'll catch you after the break."

With my fourth drink—no, fifth—I slump against the doorframe, cold bottle in hand, watching a rocket streak across the night sky before exploding into a shower of red, white, and blue. California's skyline lights up, and my chest tightens with each pop and whistle as I'm pulled deeper into the past. The party buzzes around me with perfectly timed oohs and ahs, but not from me. I'm trapped in a bubble of regret and longing, watching the sky catch fire.

Maybe I should've stayed in Boston.

At least there, I wouldn't have to relive this night, wouldn't have these memories flickering through my mind—Cara laughing in the summer heat, her hair catching the sunlight, much like the sparks above now catch the night.

Yet, it's not Cara who's messing with my head. Buried memories are clawing their way back and pulling me to another time.

Back to her .

To the first time we watched the fireworks together, her hand finding mine in the dark, her eyes wide with wonder. It was so easy then, as natural as breathing, to be with her, to love her.

But like these fireworks, our time together had been too brief, too intense, ending in a blaze of sparks that left nothing but smoke and lingering burn.

"Going a bit heavy on those, aren't you, slugger?" AJ's voice breaks through the noise as a particularly loud kaboom thunders above.

Not as heavy as my thoughts.

I lift my bottle in a mock salute before stepping into the warm night air, shaking off the nostalgia. Or trying to, at least. "It's the All-Star break. Remember those days, old man?"

AJ Gonzales—a former Phillies catcher, my ex-teammate, and yes, my brother-in-law—raises an eyebrow but says nothing. It took years, but we're finally friends. One could call it a slow burn, but he came around to Team Drake.

I sip my beer, but my gaze involuntarily drifts to Cara's laughter under the shower of green and gold lighting up the sky. Her head rests on her husband, Braxton's, shoulder, his arm securely wrapped around her. And did he just kiss the top of her head?

Jesus.

Their wedding was six months ago, and they still act like newlyweds. Sickening, or maybe a painful reminder of what I lost. Of what I pushed away with my own hands.

"You know she's happily married, right?"

"Yeah." My response is automatic, but AJ's stare deepens, his voice sharpening with an edge of protectiveness I've grown all too familiar with.

"Then why the fuck are you looking at my sister as if you've lost your best friend? You treated Cara like shit when you were together."

I let out a resonated sigh. No amount of festive light can brighten the shadow that hangs between the past and the present. Team Drake is indeed a lonely island.

My eyes draw back to the fireworks as another burst of color explodes. But it's not the brunette in the arms of another guy occupying my thoughts. It's the echoes of what could have been with a five-foot-five blond that fit against me perfectly.

I treated her like shit near the end, too. At least with her, I can blame my youth. Given our age, I doubt we would've gone the distance. Who marries their high school sweetheart, anyway?

"Just enjoying the show," I mutter, but AJ's smirk tells me he doesn't buy it for a second.

"Right. Because Mr. Bad Ball Hitter is all about the fireworks, not the girl."

"Something like that." I shrug and take another sip of my beer, brushing off the jab at my name. "It's all good between Cara and me now. And, for your information, I'm seeing someone."

AJ pauses, silently scrutinizing me with a mix of skepticism and concern. "You like her?"

The question catches me off guard, and I pause to look at him. "Since when do you care?"

"Fuck, I don't, but don't let Mia hear that. She'll be pissed I messed this up." AJ laughs, a short, sharp sound, and then grunts. "She's worried about you, has been since the wedding. I was supposed to be casual with my prodding."

If Cara weren't AJ's sister, our histories would be less tangled. "Tell her I'm fine. But yeah, I like Miranda."

Considering this relationship is new, the name feels foreign to my tongue, but the half-truth does the trick. AJ nods, looking satisfied, his teasing grin softening into something brotherly. "You getting adjusted to the new team?"

"Yeah, Boston is where I've always dreamed of playing." However, that has changed throughout my career. A lot has changed.

Witnessing Cara and Braxton's marriage shifted something inside me. It took a while to figure out what had me down. After moving to a new city and team, it didn't take long to realize I wanted stability. I want what Braxton and Cara, hell, even what AJ and Mia have. It's time I stopped playing the field, so to speak.

I wasn't ready when I dated Cara, but she was the closest person to touch on what I felt about my high school girlfriend, Lila. But, like back then, life was hectic. I had just gotten called up to the majors when I met Cara. They traded AJ to the Dodgers shortly after, which opened my starting position. Like every young and dumb guy, I welcomed the attention with open arms.

And it went straight to my head—the one without the brain.

The exhilaration of being on the field, the roar of the crowd—it was intoxicating. Baseball wasn't just a game; it was my life's blood, the axis on which my world spun. But it was also a jealous lover, demanding all my time, attention, and energy, leaving little room for anything or anyone else.

Little did I know the Phillies would trade me to the Boston Bears with a year left in my contract. Guess turnabout is fair play.

"Think you'll stay there after?" AJ's question knocks the memories loose and pulls me back to the present day.

"My agent's working on a multiyear contract with a few other teams."

"Yeah?"

"We'll see what happens at the end of the year." I just need to keep my batting average up to get that big paycheck.

"So what's this Miranda like?"

"She's smart, funny," I start, crossing my arms over my chest as my mind races, grasping for convincing details. I doubt saying big tits and a killer body will earn me the brownie points I'm aiming for, but I don't know her that well. We've dated for less than a month. "Dark hair, beautiful?—"

"Sounds like your type." He nods, leaning back on his heels. The playful glint in his eyes doesn't quite reach the rest of his face.

"Definitely." My response feels like swinging at a pitch I should've let pass. Guess that's why I earned the title Bad Ball Hitter. I fucking swing at everything. But I must admit, being aggressive has benefited me.

"How'd you meet?"

"She's a masseuse."

"Does she work for the team?"

"Nah. The spa she owns is near my apartment. Figured I'd give it a shot." That part isn't a lie. My muscles ached from the game the night before, so I made a knee-jerk reaction to walk in. I expected nothing beyond a decent massage, but Miranda walked in with her calming presence. Her smile was the first thing that caught my attention. It was warm and genuine and reached her eyes in a rare and inviting way.

As she worked the tension out of my shoulders, we talked about everything and nothing—movies, books, the chaotic beauty of city life. It was the most relaxed I'd felt in months, maybe years. And when she laughed, it wasn't just her voice; it was her whole being, vibrant and infectious. I found myself wanting to hear that laugh again, to be the reason for it.

"Good for you, man." He claps me on the shoulder, the weight of his hand grounding me back to the present. "Remember, the game isn't everything. Don't let the good ones slip away."

Too late for that.

His words hit too close to home, echoing my own regrets. If only I could hit rewind and draft a new ending where baseball didn't come between Lila and me. But life doesn't work like that. There are no redo's, just tough lessons that hit you like a fastball to the gut.

"I get it." I fix my gaze on the fading trails of the fireworks, the vibrant colors bleeding into the night. The game had given me a lot: fame, money, and a rock-solid identity. I'm about to cash in big time, but at what cost? Relationships turned into collateral damage, sacrificed at the altar of my relentless chase for greatness.

Cara and Lila? Just the fallout of a career that demanded everything and then some.

It's a brutal truth that I've dodged for too long. The weight of missed chances and lost connections hangs heavy, a constant reminder of the steep price of chasing dreams.

"Chin up, Drake. You're having a hell of a year. You'll land where you want next year. And if it's meant to be, it'll work out with the girl." AJ finishes his beer and tosses the bottle into a nearby recycling bin before disappearing into the crowd. His parting words, simple yet profound, hang in the air.

I lean against the cool stucco wall as remnants of sparklers fizzle and replay his words, "If it's meant to be." I honestly thought that once, but it didn't quite work out.

Closing my eyes, I see Lila in every afterimage, laughing with her head thrown back and crying when I walk away. The sting isn't just in my chest; it's in the marrow of my bones. I should've fought for her, should've gone a full nine innings, extra innings if that's what it took. But I didn't. I'm sure she's happily married with children by now. I wouldn't know because it's like she dropped from the face of the earth. The regret is a lead weight in my gut.

My gaze strays back to the blissful couple. With Cara's head on Braxton's shoulder and her body tucked into the crook of his arm, she seems happy and content.

Memories swirl in my mind, blurring the present as I transport back to Christmas long ago when Cara was home for a break and Braxton was nothing but an ex-boyfriend. I may not have been the entire cause of their breakup, but I was the catalyst of what spiraled into a mishap of misunderstandings. Maybe that was the beginning of the shift in me, and the wedding was the clincher. But it all started with our conversation after Christmas dinner…

Tension hung around us as we sat on the couch in Mrs. Gonzales' living room. I might as well address the white elephant in the room. I needed to make things right if Cara would be my future sister-in-law. Our future was inescapable.

"So you really liked him, huh?"

Tears sprung to her eyes as her bottom lip quivered. "I do."

Do, not did.

Fuck, I'm a prick.

"For what it's worth. I'm sorry for playing a part in your separation. And for the way I treated you when we were together. I did like you. I just…" My voice trailed off as I stared at anything but her.

"Wasn't ready to give up that player status," she filled in, her voice gentle when she had every right to be condescending.

"Something like that. But I am sorry it didn't work out between us." I offered a small smile tinged with sorrow.

"I appreciate that. I do. I liked you too, but after being with Braxton, I realize there are different levels of likes."

Her words pierced through me with the realization that our relationship had been doomed from the start.

"As much as I liked us together," she continued softly, "I loved what Braxton and I had. He was…"

"Someone to go the distance," I finished for her as an unexpected current of pain sliced through me.

A sad yet bittersweet smile graced her lips as she nodded. "Someone to go the distance."

The memory of the girl to whom I once spoke those words caused a pang in my chest. I uttered those words as I gave a silver chain with a pendant. I had the jeweler inscribe "Forever Girl" on the back.

As I stared at Cara, I finally understood where she came from. Lila was the one I was supposed to go the distance with—my forever girl.

The sound of laughter in the distance reminds me I'm at a party. Can I go the distance with Miranda? Time will tell. But with her, I can get another chance at love. Our relationship may be new, but for the first time in a long while, I feel ready to put in the effort and commitment required for a successful relationship.

With determination, I push away from the wall and stand tall. It's time to let go of the past and step into the unknown.