16. Chapter Sixteen

Matty

By the end of the next week, I felt like I was starting to settle into life in Port Grandlin. I'd adjusted to the time difference—mostly—and I had even gotten most of my belongings unpacked and put away in what Jared continued to call the guest bedroom, even though I had ended up staying in it full time. It wasn't that I didn't want to share a bed with Jared, because just as I'd told him, I very much wanted that. We hadn't so much as seen each other without clothes since I'd been in America, though, and I wasn't interested in rushing things. In Norway, we'd toyed with a physical relationship, one that had hit us without warning, like a thunderstorm in summer—it seemed it had always been simmering in the background, until one day the skies opened up. It had roiled through us fast and hard, and I didn't want to risk the fallout if we picked things back up the wrong way. I had too much to lose, and if we were going to attempt that kind of relationship, one with both physical and emotional components, I wanted to do it the right way. I wasn't entirely sure if my resolve would hold out, though.

I was in my bedroom, tapping away on my laptop as I worked on an article, when a knock startled me out of my focus. When I looked up, Jared stood in the doorway frowning, a furrow between his eyebrows.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately, pushing the chair away from the desk. "Is it the show?"

He shook his head and looked up at me. "It's the tour. Paul just called and he wants me back on the road as soon as possible. The next show is in two days."

My breath left me in a rush. "Now what?"

"I guess we need to call Charlie, tell her we're traveling."

"Good idea."

Jared pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number for the Destination Love producer.

"This is Charlie," she answered.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, Charlie, this is Jared. I've got Matty here with me."

Her tone shifted to a warm one. "Hey there. What can I do for you?"

"So, uh… I just heard from my manager. He's got some shows lined up for me. Another month on tour."

"Jared, that's great news! How's Matt feeling about it?"

I looked from Jared to the phone and back to Jared. "I'm looking forward to seeing more of America, even if it is crammed in a van with a bunch of musicians." It was true, too. I wanted to be near Jared, regardless of circumstances.

"Oh." Her tone grew more serious. "Matt, we can't approve that, you know that, right?"

"Can't approve what?" I asked, confused.

"The travel. The execs won't want to spend the money to send a camera crew traveling with you. Besides, having you alone in America—it makes for good television."

"Oh." I'd planned on joining him, writing a few short pieces about the experience and the cities we visited. "But why?"

Charlie took a breath and continued. "Listen, I can talk to Doug. I'll push the issue, but he's going to say absolutely not."

"Okay." I wasn't sure what else there was to be said. "Well, thanks."

Her tone softened. "I'm sorry about this. I really am. I know it's not the news you wanted to hear. But listen, you'll be okay. It's just a month. And Jared's tour will be great for publicity for the show."

"Thanks, Charlie," Jared murmured.

"No problem. Anything else you need?"

"No, that's it." A few moments later, we said goodbye and hung up.

Jared swallowed, his jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth. "I'm really sorry. I wanted you there."

"Yeah, I… I know." There wasn't much else to say about it. It wasn't like I could argue with the producers. We were committed to the show and were contractually obligated to do what they told us.

"That gives us less than sixty days to plan the wedding when you get back."

He nodded slowly. "I know. I'm really sorry. I wish there was some other way."

I thought back to other episodes of Destination Love I'd seen once we'd been accepted to the show. Had any of the couples been separated for such a big portion of their ninety days? Yes, of course, there had been. The show liked to manufacture drama, so when other couples had to travel for work, the non-American one nearly always stayed at home, forging their own path, likely just to make them uncomfortable. I took a slow, deep breath. "Okay then. I guess we're doing this their way. It's just… what do I do while you're gone?" And what if you don't want to come back? We were building a relationship, sure, but what if Jared put his career first and decided to stay on tour or something? That was why we started the show in the first place.

He tilted his head thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging and holding his hands out, palms up. "I wish I knew. You can work, right? Wedding plan? You can take my place on the kickball team."

I snorted. "Hardly."

"Make friends. Visit my sister, Grace, or my parents. I know they'd like to see you again. Call me—a lot. We can, I don't know, have phone sex."

That drew a little chuckle out of me. "That part doesn't sound terrible."

He paused a moment. "Look, I know I'm leaving you alone for a month in a country you haven't been to in almost fifteen years. But let's look on the bright side. You're here. And when I get back, we're going to get married and you're going to be here for as long as you want. Things aren't going to change. It's just reversed now, that's all. I'll be traveling and you'll stay put."

I smiled weakly, not really feeling it. "I've always appreciated your ability to try to cheer me up."

Jared reached across the gap between us and took my hand in his. "We'll figure this out. I know it's going to suck, but I'll do everything in my power to make it as painless as possible."

I nodded. "Thank you."

A few days later, I was seeing Jared off, feeling once more like we were being pulled in separate directions and we were at risk of never seeing one another again. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, I reached out to one of his teammates to see if I could join a practice or two. Levi encouraged me to come to the field, so that was how I found myself in the dugout that weekend, trying to keep up with the rest of the team's energy and enthusiasm.

"You're going to do great," Bennett said as I headed to the kicker's box for my first time up.

"Whatever you say," I murmured, not entirely confident. I took my spot and Levi hurtled the ball in my direction. Panic overtook me, worried I'd do something wrong or hurt myself. Instead of sending it soaring, I dodged away.

Theo called out a few encouraging words to me, echoing Bennett's earlier sentiments. "Come on, Matt, you can do it! Looking good up there."

I frowned and took a deep breath before centering myself in the kicker's box once again. For the second time, the ball came careening toward me. Instead of turning away, I kicked it as hard as I could, eyes squinted shut. A whoop and cheers came from the dugout and when I opened my eyes, the ball was sailing into the outfield. I glanced in Bennett's direction, where he sat in the dugout still, waiting his turn to kick.

"Go!" he screamed. "Run!"

I ran.

I made it to second base before the ball came back in my direction, Archer catching it smoothly. He tossed it in my direction. Once again, my life flashed before my eyes, and once again, I worried that it would hit me and I'd get hurt.

Unfortunately for me, my prophecy came true just then, time moving in slow motion. The ball connected with my face. Pain exploded through my head, centering on my nose, which had become a fountain of blood. I slammed my hands against my face and collapsed to the ground, knees connecting with the hard-packed field.

A moment later, time seemed to restart. I found myself leaning forward, nose dripping into the dust, the team huddled around me.

"Oh my God. I am so sorry," Archer said, over and over. "I didn't mean to throw wild like that."

I shook my head, wincing in pain, and waved my hand to assure him that I wasn't mad.

Bennett knelt beside me, murmuring reassurances. "It's okay. You're okay." A moment later, he handed me an ice pack. "Here. Do we need to get you to the ER?"

Again, I shook my head. "No, I don't think that's necessary." I pulled my hands from my face, and they were covered in blood. "Oh God." The sight of blood didn't make me woozy, but it felt like a lot. Someone, probably Bennett, passed me a handful of paper towels and I began to clean up. It seemed the blood flow was slowing, and once I was mostly clean, I sat back on my haunches.

"God, I am so sorry," Archer said again. "Are you okay?"

I chuckled a little, pain shooting through my face. "I think I will be. Is my nose broken? My fiancé is going to be pretty unhappy if the first thing you guys did was break my face." That lightened the mood and everyone laughed a bit.

Parker placed a hand on my shoulder. "How about this? The second thing we can do is get you drunk to forget about the pain. Let's get you to the bar."

"You are not getting Matt drunk," Cam chided. "He should go home and take some painkillers and let the bleeding subside, at the very least."

Amidst the pain, I was warmed to hear them calling me Matt. It felt natural, and I was glad to be welcomed into their fold. "I think that's probably the better plan," I said, nodding in agreement. I managed to stand and took another wad of paper towels from Bennett's hands.

Theo spoke up, clearing his throat a little. "Keep leaning forward and keep pressure on it, as much as you can. I've seen plenty of bloody noses in my day job."

"Sure, thanks." It wasn't long until I was in my car and headed home, face still throbbing.