22. Chase

TWENTY-TWO

chase

Something cold and wet hits my shoulder.

Annoyed, I grunt and swipe at it to make it go away.

There's a tiny growl just before a swat of needle pricks hits my face.

"What the fuck?"

Where the hell am I?

In spite of the little drummer boy playing a rocking drum solo in my skull, I crack open an eyelid and slam it back shut with a moan when light pours in, causing my stomach to lurch.

Son of a bitch. What the fuck did I do last night?

A tiny mewl rings in my ear before something soft lies under my chin.

"Looks like she likes you. I can't understand why though."

I jump when I hear Lucas's voice.

"Jesus, do you ever make any noise when you move?"

I slowly open my eyes again, and my vision is full of gray fur. "What is on me?"

He chuckles and the ball of fur is lifted away. "A kitten."

When I don't feel like I'm going to lose the contents of my stomach, I turn my head to survey my surroundings .

Laid out on a sofa, there's a blanket draped over me and I'm still in my clothes from the night before.

A large flat-screen TV takes up one wall, and the rest of the room is so tidy, it looks like it's hardly ever used.

"I'd start with the water first."

On the coffee table next to me is a cup of steaming coffee and a bottle of water.

I lean my head back to find Lucas sitting on the loveseat, the gray-and-white kitten now in his lap.

With a sigh and a surge of mortification setting in, I slowly sit up and swing my legs to the side.

Elbows on my knees, I hold my aching head in my hands for a moment before looking up at him.

"Thanks," I say, reaching for the bottle of water.

It's an effort I don't have the energy for, but I manage to keep from chugging the bottle to relieve the foul-tasting ball of cotton that has grown in my mouth overnight.

From the corner of my eye, Lucas watches me, sipping his coffee, his eyes calm and understanding.

The little fur ball jumps over the blanket and picks her way across the sofa, plopping down next to me.

I run a hand over her soft fur, which makes her seem bigger than she is, and she tries to bite my fingers.

"Where did she come from?"

"I found the kittens this morning. They were stuck under some palm fronds in the yard."

"By themselves?"

He nods. "There were three of them, and it looked like maybe mama left and didn't get back."

As if I need another thing to pull at my fucking heartstrings. "Where are the other two?"

"Odette took them. I'm just keeping her until I find her a home."

"Good ol' Odette."

"Yep." He pauses, watching me pet the cat and sip my coffee. "Better?"

"Yeah." I run a hand through my disheveled hair. "How did I end up at your place?"

"Nate was going to take you to his, but Lucy was having a rough night and Charley needed help. So he brought you here."

"Shit. I feel like I should apologize to you and Charley and Nate."

"Al too. He said you'd been a real asshole."

I sigh heavily and lean my head back. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"When you started talking a lot of nonsense, it made me nervous. Add to the fact that there was one point that you couldn't stop throwing up for a while."

I drop my head to my hand. "Oh my God. I'm so sorry."

"Seriously, man. Don't worry about it. Friends take care of friends. Even if they do accuse the other of wanting to sleep with his girl. And it seems like you could use a friend right now."

I groan and cover my face. "Fuck, man. You should have punched my ass out."

He shrugs a shoulder. "I thought about it, but it wasn't worth the pain my hand would endure hitting your stubborn face."

I swallow another swig of water and look out the glass sliders of Lucas's living room. A huge balcony overlooks the beach and the Atlantic beyond.

There's a void in me right now that feels like all the water in ocean can't fill.

My throat burns from vomiting my insides out the night before. At least that's what I'm telling myself.

It has nothing to do with the fact my eyes are watering .

"So, what are you going to do about Eden?"

I clear my throat, but can't meet his eyes. "I don't know. What did I say to you?"

"Nate and I compared notes this morning, and it seems you told us both all about your dad."

"Ah, fuck me."

"You rambled drunkenly all about how your father told you how worthless you were for ‘killing your mother,' and how you'd let Eden down before by leaving her for baseball and how you don't want to hurt her again. And how all those things make you the worst person in the world. And you deserve to be alone."

When I finally meet his eyes, I see the bastard is challenging me. Challenging me to dispute him.

Because when he says it like that, it sounds a bit ridiculous and self-serving.

At least, that's what I'd think if someone had said it to me.

Still, it's how I feel. Isn't it? Or is that how I'd convinced myself to feel?

"Look,"—he leans forward, hands clasped between his knees—"I don't know what happened between you two. But I do know Eden cried the entire way to Jacksonville."

"Jesus, you and Nate are like two old gossipy women."

I run a hand into my hair, yanking on a handful of it. The one thing I hate is to make Eden cry.

He's unaffected by my insult. "Apparently, she told Charley a few things. The biggest thing being that she still loves you."

The fact that I laid bare all of my demons and all but kicked her out of my house yet she tells Charley she still loves me fills my chest with hope.

But it's quickly followed by the fact that I have no idea how to fix this.

Especially since I'm the asshole that pushed her away.

Blowing out a long breath, I pick up the kitten and bring her up to look her in the eye. "I fucked up good, didn't I?"

She sniffs the tip of my nose and then lets out a tiny mewl.

With a sigh, I set the furball on the sofa next to me and look over at Lucas. "What would you do in my shoes?"

His sigh is heavy. "Shit, man. Love is complicated for guys like us. We travel all the time, the sport consumes us, and the media is always up in our business. Not to mention, neither one of us had a very good upbringing."

He sips his coffee. "I know you don't want to hear this, but Eden is the type of woman I'd love to have by my side. Beautiful, smart, professional, well put together?—"

That possessive caveman in me tries to come out and play, but I manage to keep him at bay. Well, sort of.

I glare at him and he raises a brow.

"Dude, why aren't you with Darcy?"

"Because it would be like kissing my sister. May I continue?"

I wave my hand in a go-ahead gesture.

"With a woman like that, you do whatever you have to in order to keep her. And if you have that chemistry? When you find one, you hold on and don't let go."

"I know. Fuck, I know. But the media?—"

"Fuck the media, man. Are you going to let those fair-weather fuckers dictate your life forever? Look,"—he moves to the edge of the sofa—"the truth is, your career as a ballplayer is over."

I know he's right, but hearing it from him, hearing the reality of it even after a few years, hurts my chest.

He continues. "Which I'm sure is tough to hear, but here's the upside. Who cares what the media says anymore? It isn't like it's going to tank your career. And not being an active player anymore means they're usually looking for a guy who is and has screwed up somehow. That poor sucker is a bigger story than you these days."

I rub the cat's head, letting her purring soothe me.

Lucas's words sting but he isn't wrong.

"One more thing," he says. "No one here in Cape Sands believes any of that shit the media has said about you. You don't have to worry about sponsorships and money. So, what are you so worried about?"

He has a point. What am I worried about?

My father is dead. Heather's family has stayed out of the public eye since I paid them a healthy sum.

There's no one left to come out and call me a killer anymore.

And even if there is, like Nate says, I'm not tabloid news anymore.

Have I been so stuck in my past that I'm letting go of my future?

"I need to do the charity ball."

"Is that the event she asked you to help her with?"

I side-eye him. "How did you know about that?"

"The speaker thing? Charley."

"Of course." I sigh and rub the back of my neck, sweat a sheen on my skin. "I can do this, right?"

"Hell, yeah, you can. It all comes down to what you want. A life alone on the island or a life with the woman who will stand by you no matter what—heal your wounds."

He points at me. "Because I saw you guys together only once and that's all it took to see you two could light up the Eastern Seaboard with the chemistry. Plus, you may not know it, but you get this wistful look in your eyes when you look at her."

I scoff. "You're full of shit. I do not."

Do I?

"Whatever you say, man." He leans back, stretching an arm out across the back of the loveseat. "Listen, don't be like me, Hanover. Believe it or not, I wasn't always a playboy. I've only ever wanted one woman in my life. And I had the love of my life once. I fucked up big time and let her go. Evelyn was the best thing I ever had. But even with it right in front of me, I couldn't see through my own bullshit to keep her."

I'm stunned to hear the guy known for his bedroom prowess was once a one-woman man. "Where is she now?"

His sigh is heavy with sadness. "Last I knew, she's in Phoenix and married to a physical therapist."

If I found out Eden was married, I'd be gutted. "I'm sorry, man."

He shakes his head. "Neither here nor there, now. But you know what it's like to have that special woman who you want to fight the whole world for. Eden is special. Hold on to it with all you have."

He smirks. "If you don't go get her, I'm going to go to New York and get her myself."

My jaw muscles bunch and my eyes narrow.

With a snap, he points at me. "Gotcha."

I kick his foot. "You fucker."

He laughs and sips his coffee.

Staring out the windows to the ocean beyond, I absently scratch behind the kitten's ears.

No one ever told me life would be fair. Or that it would be easy.

And if I get my head out of my ass long enough to think about it, I've had a more than fair life.

Because shit happens. People die. Freak accidents occur.

The media loses interest and you can move on with your life.

Lucas is right .

Do I want to be alone in a big house and think of all that could have been?

Or do I want to live out my days with Eden—if she'll take me back—and build a life with her?

Isn't whatever time I have with her better than none at all?

The demon with my father's voice that I've lived with my whole life is kicking and screaming at me to be scared, to choose safety.

To not let anyone in because I'm not worth the trouble.

Baseball is the only thing I've ever been good at and even that has been taken from me.

Even if Eden tells me to go straight to hell without collecting two hundred dollars, I'll at least know the demon can no longer hold me bound to my past.

My heart surges with hope, and I stand so abruptly I almost drop the kitten. "I'm sorry, I need to go."

Lucas stands, a dubious look on his face. "You okay? Need a ride?"

"I'm good and no, I could use the walk to clear my head. It's just a couple of miles. I have a plan." I hand him the kitten. "Here's your cat."

He holds his hands up. "No way, she's yours now."

When I cuddle the little thing against my chest, she crawls up and settles into the crook of my neck.

I chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. Hey, man. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. For putting me up last night, for not kicking my ass even though I'm sure I deserved it."

He simply nods once. "Get the hell out of here and go get your girl."

We do the one arm bro-hug thing and I leave, walking along the beachfront road that will lead to my house .

"Well, I didn't expect to come home with a cat, but here we are. You just need a name."

When I get home, my head is clear and my plan is solid.

Step one. Call my agent.

"Liz Fallon."

"Liz? It's Chase."

"Well, well. Nice to hear from the Golden Boy."

Her voice is both welcoming and fear-inducing for me. Under that snarky tone, she's glad I called.

Lord knows she bothered me enough.

"Yeah. Listen, I need your help." I blow out a breath. "I'm ready."

I don't need to tell her more.

She knows exactly what I mean. By the tone of her voice, she has that feline ready-to-take-on-the-world smile on her face. The one no one wants to see from the other side of the negotiating table.

It's part of the reason I hired her.

Maybe I should name my cat Liz.

"It's about damn time, Hanover. What you got in mind?"