Page 33

twenty-nine

. . .

[Declan]

While I could have stood in her front yard and argued all the reasons we are good together, and all the ways we can continue our secret relationship, India was adamant there wasn’t any way around this speed bump.

I wasn’t convinced her boss knew anything definitive about India and me and that dark conference room. He might have speculated, but she, of all people, should know speculations are only half-truths, if they hold any truth at all.

However, it was late, and I had a game to coach the next day. And the next day. And the next.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

I needed to respect her wishes, as I’d been trying to do all along.

The Tennessee Terrors have a week of home games with a day off in the middle. With it being mid-August, Montgomery is back in school, and as enticing as I try to make it sound for her to play hooky with me, she balks at missing classes in the first weeks of a new school year.

When the Terrors finally hit the road for New York, I welcome the reprieve from Nashville.

It wasn’t like India and I painted the town, and every corner was a memory of her.

The reminders came in the nooks and crannies of my barren apartment.

The emptiness from her absence and the longing to be at her house, which was warm and inviting. More home than my own place.

I wanted to be angry at her decision. Instead, I understood it. Understood all too well.

I’d been career-driven myself. Seattle. Chicago.

Then the love of my daughter put the brakes on that path, and I’ve never resented a minute of the hard stop. To me, the big league would always be there. I’d also had a good run as a professional ball player.

So, I understood why India felt like she hadn’t reached her golden opportunity. Her journey led her other places that were never firmly her own, and I couldn’t be an orange cone in the road, forcing her to detour.

Like my guys with taped ankles and fingers, I wrapped up my broken heart and continued to coach.

Only, Eddie Ramirez noticed a difference. “What’s going on?” He side-eyed me when we returned to Nashville and started another long home stretch. First up was Pittsburgh and it was the first time I’d see India after the four days in New York.

When she was still mine, I’d sneak glances at her, offering her a soft smile or quick wink.

Now, her presence was like a ghost haunting me with her nearness while not allowing me to see her.

“I’m good,” I lie to Eddie, because as much as I love this game, and I’ve devoted my life to it, my heart is devoted elsewhere.

In a caged-off camera well .

“So, are you and—” He doesn’t mention her name when I turn my head abruptly and glare at him. “Still a thing?”

“We were never a thing,” I snap, turning my attention back to the field. Thing is too nondescript for the way I feel about India. Fling is almost as flippant. India is my heart and having this second round with her suggests she always has been.

“Ah,” Eddie hums. Perhaps he assumes we were a one-night stand.

I don’t bother to correct him. India and I are too complicated to explain. And she broke up with me.

Why do I feel like you’re breaking up with me?

I don’t want to.

But she did. There was the but she’d been holding her breath over weeks ago.

“Let’s go,” I shout at Chase Thorne to pull myself back into the game. To draw my focus to the field instead of the cameras that I’ve always ignored before. I’ve even resented them, because an inanimate object got India’s attention more than I did.

And yet, I still couldn’t fault her. She had her dreams.

I’d just hoped I’d be part of them.

When the Tennessee Terrors play the Vegas Victors at their domed stadium in the desert, I almost regret being a coach.

Because my best friend is making another appearance at the matchup and he’s forcing me to go out with him. While I’d briefly seen him in California back in early August, with India at my side, I was hopeful I could gloss over our relationship status now.

I’d been wrong because when Isaiah meets me outside the visiting team locker room, he has both Penn, and his sister beside him .

What the fuck? I internally grouse as I approach my oldest friend and pull him in for a hug, resisting a glance at his sister.

The second I pull away, I lose my battle and watch as India lowers her head. Penn glances from her sister-in-law to me and back when I don’t approach the woman I treated like my girlfriend the last time we visited this other couple.

“What’s going on here?” The short-haired blonde points between India and me.

“Nothing,” we say in unison because there is nothing going on between us. She said her piece, and while I disagree, I’m honoring it.

Isaiah glares at me long and hard before looking back at his sister who continues to hang her head. He glances back at me and while I don’t want to throw her under a bus, I do want Isaiah to know it wasn’t my decision to hit the brakes.

I point to my chest and slowly shake my head. Not me, man .

At the silent signal, Isaiah scowls, turning toward his sister, who refuses to look at him. After a tense, quiet minute, Isaiah announces, “Okay. Dinner.”

He claps my shoulder and leads me away, with the girls trailing behind us. “What the hell happened?”

“She didn’t want to see me anymore,” I state, verbalizing the truth.

“Is this about the rumors I heard that you might be open to coaching somewhere else?” He glances around my shoulder, and I shush him.

When we finally leave the stadium, Isaiah drives us to a nice restaurant outside the city limits.

I’d already told him I didn’t think I had time to visit with his parents.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to face Richard Baker, knowing all his infractions against his daughter.

Thinking of her, I wonder what she is doing in Vegas.

That information becomes clearer when we finally take a seat in the booth Isaiah requests, placing India and me on a bench seat across from Isaiah and Penn. The nearness to my former best girl causes me to sweat. My fingers twitch, eager to reach for her thigh, resting only inches from mine.

Instead, I clutch at my own leg to keep my hand steady while India mentions seeing her mother earlier in the day.

“You’re still not talking to your dad?” Penn asks.

India shakes her head. She told me how she felt betrayed by her father, that he knew about her husband’s affair, and never mentioned it to her.

She even worried her father might have had an affair himself, never revealing the truth to her own mother.

She didn’t want to pry, but she also didn’t want to see her mother hurt.

At the mention of the continued stalemate between India and her dad, the longing to reach for her hand and give her a reassuring squeeze grows.

“Okay, let’s not talk about your dad,” Penn counters, glossing over the touchy subject, while waving her hand in the air.

“We have other exciting news.” Isaiah glances at Penn and then between India and me. Whatever he’s about to say must be big because he’s wiggling in his seat like a Jack Russell terrier,

“I’ve been asked to join in a collaborative group to purchase the Vegas Victors.”

“What?” I ask at the same time India shrieks, “Why?”

“The team is still considered new and needs more investors.” Isaiah glances at Penn before looking at India and me once more. “And with my history . . . well, Dad’s history with the team . . . it seems like a good investment.”

The Vegas Victors are hot and young in the big scorebook of the limited league, much like the Tennessee Terrors.

However, I’m still surprised Isaiah would want to invest in them. That Isaiah has the finances to invest in something so large .

“Why Vegas, though?” India asks, her voice hesitant. “You have connections all over the league.” This is a reminder that Isaiah is in sports law and understands athlete management.

“I want Vegas,” Isaiah states definitively, before glancing at Penn once more. “And if all goes through, we’ll be looking for a new head coach or general manager.”

“What?” India whispers, the sound choked and pained.

Isaiah zeroes his happy glance on me.

“Aren’t you calling homerun when it’s really a foul ball?” I scoff, glancing briefly at India and then glare across the table at my best friend. “You haven’t even purchased yet.”

Isaiah continues to watch me. “I was hoping I might be able to add an additional nugget to my offer.” He wiggles his brows.

“So you want to use me?” A sharp edge rips through my voice.

“What’s going on here?” India asks, her voice stronger this time.

With a quick glance at Penn, whose eyes are full of concern, and a gaze at Isaiah, who is smiling like a puppy hanging his head out a car window to catch the breeze, I peer at India.

“I might be putting out feelers for a team swap.” Might is optional. I am putting out feelers.

Her silvery eyes widen before narrowing. “Why?”

I don’t answer her.

Instead, I turn back to Isaiah, clarify my potential prospects. “I’m only looking at the East Coast.”

The original women’s league was concentrated in the Midwest, but the new league is rumored to include primarily eastern states. I’m thinking it will include ones that match the original male-centric teams. New York. Boston. Philadelphia. Possibly Cincinnati and Chicago. Detroit even.

The decision to follow India came after a long talk with Montgomery, one in which I told my girl how things didn’t work out between me and her idol.

“But why, Dad?”

There was that dreaded word again. But.

I didn’t want to blame India, but I had to tell the truth. “It wasn’t our time.” Again.

While we’d only had a week years ago, at least this round, we had several of them. The best ones of my life, as I’d told her.

“Dad,” Montgomery groaned. “Make it your time.”

“I don’t want to leave you, bean,” I teased, tossing in a childhood nickname.

I never wanted to be without her and she’s my reason for every change I’ve made to my swing.

The move from Chicago to Louisville to Nashville.

I wasn’t ready to part from my number one best girl.

Once again, I was telling myself there was always later, but the older I got, prime or not, time wasn’t always going to be on my side.

It certainly hadn’t always favored India and me.

“Dad, you wouldn’t be leaving me. You’d just be chasing your dream.”

“I did chase my dream.” I bopped her on the nose. I followed my girl.

“Chase another dream, Dad.”

“But it might take me from you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and I knew I was making the right decision. I had to let India go.

“Then I’ll just visit you. Just promise to buy a house with a bigger bedroom for me.”

“Monty, baby.” I sighed.

“Daddy, don’t let me be the reason you stop your dreams again.”

My mouth fell open, shocked. “That’s not what happened.” My tone was defensive, stricken even. Is that what she thinks I did? I don’t fault her. Not one bit. I made a decision . . . for me. Just like India needs to make a decision for her.

“But you’ve always said love is more important than anything, and if you love India, you need to be with her. Wherever that might be.”

“I love you, too, baby,” I remind her. I am where love lives. In Nashville.

“And I love you. But Mommy made a move for Brent, and I think it’s only fair you make a move for India, if you need to.”

I chuckled. She was too keen.

“I’m good,” I lied.

“But you’d be better with India.”

I’d be the best with her, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Then Montgomery said, “You’ll never make a hit if you don’t swing. That means you’ll never get the girl if you don’t take chances.”

I laughed harder. “When did you get so wise?”

“My dad always told me to follow my dreams.”

“Their league will grow,” Isaiah counters, breaking into my thoughts and the gentle nudge my daughter gave me to move forward. Swing at a different dream. Chase the girl.

“What league?” India whispers beside me, but she’s a smart woman, and by now she must know.

Still, I warn my best friend. “Isaiah.” I’d told him my plan in the strictest of confidence. I’d already lied to him once about my feelings and his sister. I wanted him to know the truth. I’d go where she goes and she wants to head East. Not west, like Nevada.

Penn is the one to finally clarify what we’re tiptoeing around. “The future women’s one.”

My shoulder is shoved, and I turn toward the culprit.

“Get out,” she snaps.

I stare at India and glance across the table at her brother.

“I mean it. Get up. Let me out.” She presses at my arm again so insistently that I scoot out of the booth. But I don’t let India run off without chasing.