2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Grady

Scottie takes a large drink of her vodka cranberry, keeping her eyes locked on the bar in front of her.

“Easy there, tiger.”

“Trust me. This conversation will go a lot faster with a little liquid courage.”

I huff out a laugh and take a sip of my drink, still reeling from how quickly the evening turned around. Being back in Scottie’s presence is like taking a breath after being underwater for hours. I know it’s impossible to hold your breath that long, but now that she’s sitting in front of me, I feel alive again, like a weight was just lifted from my chest.

And fuck. She’s even more gorgeous than I remember.

“Start talking, Scottie,” I say, trying to remain patient, but my mind is spinning. I need something from her so the pieces of the puzzle that comprised our friendship can start to make fucking sense. Losing contact with her fucking stung, but I don’t think I realized just how much it affected me until now. I’m simultaneously elated and angry seeing her tonight, and the last thing I want is for our reunion to go sour. But damn it, I have questions and she’s the one with all the answers.

She pats my thigh. “Let’s talk about you first.”

“If you start this, we’re just going to keep going back and forth all night.”

She reaches over and covers my hand with her palm, the heat of her touch sending a bolt of electricity straight down my spine to my groin.

Jesus. She practically just electrocuted me .

“I’m sorry about your arm,” she continues with a sad tilt of her lips.

A grunt escapes me, the same reaction I give anyone who offers me their condolences about my career. “It is what it is.”

“Still. You were at the top of your game. It sucks to go out like that.”

“Believe me. I lived it. I know.” I drain the rest of my glass and motion to the bartender for another.

“Torn rotator cuff?”

Blowing out a breath, I wipe my palms on my jeans and nod. “I knew something was wrong the game before.”

“Grady…” Her brows draw together, but I continue before she can say anything else. “But I didn’t want to believe it. I kept telling myself I was just sore. We were on a three-day game series, and my age was catching up to me. Years of beating up my body was finally taking its toll, so I didn’t tell anyone and kept playing through the pain.”

“And then it was beyond repair when you tore the tendons.”

I nod, intercepting my fresh whiskey, taking down a large gulp. “Yeah.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

I cast my gaze in her direction before taking another sip. “No one to blame but myself. ”

Scottie reaches for my hand again, squeezing it, but then a twinkle in her eye appears. “Can I ask you one more thing about baseball and then we can leave the topic alone for tonight?”

I arch a brow at her. “Okay…”

Leaning closer, she flashes me that smile I didn’t realize I missed so fucking much and says, “Did you throw up before your first MLB game?”

My head falls back as laughter pours out of me, a deep-rooted laugh that I feel all the way down to my toes. Fuck, I needed that . When I gain my composure, watching her sip her drink around the straw tucked between her teeth, her mouth spread with pleasure, I reply, “I did.”

She shakes her head at me. “It was only a matter of time.”

“What about you? Any more keg stands gone bad while you were in college?”

She chuckles. “A few, but like you, my focus was on the game. I didn’t party nearly as much as my teammates, but I did enough damage the few times I went out.” Her smile falls and just like that, the light in her eyes starts to fade as well.

My heart hammers as I repeat my question from earlier. “What happened, Scottie?”

“You made it to the big leagues, Reynolds,” she says quietly. “And I didn’t.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat. “I know. Right after I got drafted you were telling me about the national women’s team, and then you weren’t on the roster the next season at Georgia. What went wrong?” I remember trying to find as much information as I could about her, but there was nothing to find. It was as if her entire softball career vanished overnight.

She blows out a breath, tilts her head at me, and says something I wasn’t expecting. “I got pregnant, Grady. ”

My eyebrows climb up my forehead. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” She takes another sip from her drink as she stares off to the side of the bar. “He just turned fourteen. His name is Chase and…” A soft smile spreads across her lips. “He changed my life in the best way.” Our eyes meet again. “I thought I had my future planned out, but God showed me that I was meant for more. I was meant to be Chase’s mom, and I don’t regret having him for a second.”

My heart hammers again as I think about how that must have felt for her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you text me back?”

“It’s complicated,” she mutters, draining her glass and then motioning for another from the bartender.

“So uncomplicate it.”

She stirs the ice cubes around in her empty glass, avoiding my eyes. “Chase’s dad…” My hackles instantly rise. “I thought I knew him, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that people can surprise you. He was controlling and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

“Did he hurt you?” Murder wasn’t something I thought I was ever capable of until this moment, but if I find out her ex put his hands on her, I might just accept my fate to make sure he never does it again.

“No, he didn’t hurt me, not physically,” she interjects quickly. She blows out a breath and forces a smile. “But thankfully, that’s not something I have to deal with anymore. I’m proudly divorced and have no regrets about leaving him.”

“I’m sorry.” Reaching between us, I grab her hand, our fingers threading together. It feels so natural touching her like this, hearing her voice again, waiting anxiously for what’s going to come out of her mouth next. I swear, I’m seventeen all over again, sitting in math class, wishing our time together wouldn’t end .

“No need to apologize. Things worked out the way they should have.” Her words sound rehearsed, like she’s said them so many times now they come out with ease.

Guess I’m not the only one who’s gotten good at giving people the response they want rather than the freaking truth.

“So please tell me your girlfriend knows you’re out drinking alone tonight,” she says next, her assumption catching me off guard.

“Is that your way of asking if I’m single?”

She smirks around the rim of her glass. “Maybe.”

“No girlfriend, Scottie. No wife either.”

“You never married?”

“Didn’t really have time to focus on that aspect of my life.”

“I always wondered. There wasn’t much about your personal life in the news articles and stuff.”

“You were keeping tabs on me?” I pinch her knee, making her squeal.

“Hey! I told you I would be rooting for you. I just did it…quietly.”

“What are you up to now?” Our hands remain linked between us as I wait for her reply.

“I work in education now. My degree was in early childhood development, so I decided to become a teacher. Now I’m in administration.”

“Good for you. I bet the kids love you.”

“Not as much as I love them.” She clears her throat and directs the conversation back to me. “I heard you turned into a grease monkey.”

I lift my glass to my lips. “You heard right. I bought the Carrington Cove Garage from Mr. Rogers shortly after I moved home.”

She studies me for a moment. “I don’t see it.”

“See what? ”

“You. Working on cars.” She pauses, a pinch in her brow. “Wait. No shirt on.” She draws a check mark in the air. “Overalls with one strap undone.” She shakes her head. “No. Just a pair of jeans with grease stains and a rag sticking out of your back pocket.” She nods, drawing another check mark in the air. “Sweat trailing down your temple.” Another check mark. “Grease covering your forearms, and the band of your briefs sticking out of the top of your jeans.” She licks her lips. “Yeah, okay. I can definitely see it now.”

The temperature in this bar just rose twenty degrees—because while Scottie was describing her little fantasy right there, I was imagining spreading her out over the hood of my Nova and eating her pussy until she screamed.

Yeah, I can definitely see it too .

Clearing my throat, I swirl my glass in my hand. “I can’t believe you’re here, Scottie.” And then I ask the question that instantly pops into my mind. “Are you staying?”

She shakes her head twice. “Just here for the holidays.”

“When will you be back?”

She shrugs. “I have no idea. I don’t come home very often. In fact, it’s been years, but something told me it was time to face the past.”

Her words hit me square in the chest. The past— our past —is sitting like a ghost right between us, haunting me with everything I never said, everything I never did—and the girl I never chased because I was too busy chasing something else.

“It felt hard coming back home after everything…and Chase.” She swallows hard. “His life is down in Winterville.”

“Where is that?”

“It’s a suburb of Athens. I stayed close to UGA so I could finish school, and then I got hired at the elementary school down the street just after Chase turned four. It’s home now, and I… ”

“Don’t leave tonight,” I interrupt, almost commanding her to stay.

She licks her lips, bites her bottom one, and then says in a sultry voice that travels straight to my dick, “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

***

Scottie slaps the bar beside her. “God, that last game was a nail-biter!”

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ve never felt pressure like that in my entire life, but damn, what a rush.”

We’ve each had two more drinks since Scottie sat down on the stool across from me over three hours ago, and both of us are beginning to slur our words. It’s nearing one in the morning, and I have no desire to leave. But the glares from the bartenders tell me that our time is coming to an end sooner rather than later.

Ricky’s has nearly cleared out. Scottie’s mom and her friends left hours ago, but I assured her mother I’d make sure she got home safe. Scottie is the spitting image of her mom and it felt nice to meet the woman responsible for raising her to be the spitfire I knew and the strong woman she is now.

“But you won, Grady.” She reaches over and squeezes my arm, touching me for the hundredth time tonight.

I may be reading this all wrong, and it could just be the alcohol talking, but Scottie’s made it a point to touch me any chance she gets, scooting closer and closer as the night goes on. And I’d be a fucking liar if I said I wasn’t thinking about how this night could end if I give in to the same draw I feel toward her.

So much time has passed, and yet it feels like none has at all. The girl who offered me her friendship all those years ago is still in there, but she’s different too. I can tell her life trajectory has changed her, made her strong in ways she never knew she’d have to be for her and her son.

But as I sit here and stare at her, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I had chosen a different path myself. Would the ache of losing baseball even be there if I had never tasted a World Series title? Would the extra time with my friends and family have made it worth it, not missing all those milestones and birthdays?

And what if I had gone after the woman in front of me? If I hadn’t held back and had let her know how I felt all those years ago?

These feelings are flooding my chest, my body humming with energy and making me feel alive for the first time in years—almost five years to be exact.

“I did. The team won, and it was a night I won’t ever forget.” Much like this one .

“Do you have your ring with you?” she asks, peering down at my hands even though she’s been touching them all night and already knows the answer to that question.

“No,” I scoff. “I don’t wear that thing around, Scottie.”

“Why not?” She throws her hands up in the air, nearly falling from her stool but I catch her before she hits the ground.

“Easy there.”

She shrugs me off. “I’m fine. But seriously, Reynolds? If it were me, I’d be flashing that thing in anyone’s face I could. You won a freaking World Series! Do you know how freaking amazing—”

“We close in ten minutes!” the bartender from earlier interjects, cutting Scottie off. The irritation on his face tells me he doesn’t give a shit if I won the World Series or not.

“Here.” I toss my credit card to him over the counter, then turn back to Scottie. “We’d better be going. ”

“Yeah.” She stands from her stool, gaining her balance before brushing her curls from her face. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom.”

“You gonna be okay walking over there?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

My eyes trail her ass as her hips sway from side to side until she disappears down the hallway to the restrooms. While she’s gone, I order an Uber and settle our bar tab. I’m grabbing my coat from the back of my stool just as she reappears.

“Thanks for the drinks.” She reaches for her own coat, and I help her slip it on before putting on my own.

“Thanks for coming out tonight.”

“Yeah, who knew the night would turn in a completely random direction.” With my hand on the small of her back, I lead her outside, the frigid air hitting us the second we walk through the door. “Jesus, it’s cold,” she murmurs, pulling her coat tighter around her body.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my chest to help keep her warm while we wait for our ride. “It’s almost Christmas, Scottie. Don’t you remember how brutal the winter air can be?”

She laughs, her breath forming a visible cloud. “I guess I forgot. Back in Georgia, I’m more inland, so the air isn’t as frigid…”

Her voice trails off as we stand there in the silence, nothing but the sound of the wind whipping around us and her eyes twinkling in the dim lighting outside. But I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want this night to end yet. Hanging out with her tonight has woken up a part of me that feels like it’s been dormant for far too long, and the most irrational part of me that woke up is my fucking dick.

He’s been ready to go since the first time Scottie touched my leg earlier.

I know I can’t be the only one that wants to cross that line. I’ve felt it from her all night. And hell, we’re adults now, right? I have no idea when I might see her again, and I think we owe it to each other to see where the rest of this night could lead.

“Don’t go home tonight, Scottie,” I say, breaking the silence, waiting on pins and needles for her response. If she turns me down, then at least I know where we stand. But if she’s feeling what I’m feeling, then trying to pace myself will be my next obstacle.

Please tell me you want this, Scottie .

“Give me a reason not to, Reynolds.”

A breath of relief leaves my lips as I press my cock into her stomach, backing her up against the building we were just in, showing her what the night can hold if she gives me permission. “How’s that?”

She hums and reaches down between us, rubbing her hand over my erection straining against my jeans. “That feels like a pretty strong reason, but I might have to take a closer look to be sure.”

“Oh, it’ll deliver. I fucking promise that.”

She licks her lips and says, “I hope you’re ready to prove it.”