Page 111 of Playboy Pitcher

“Why the hell does Riggins need to be there?” Hoyt demands.

“He’s being promoted to senior vice president of operations,” Drake pipes in, finally stilling those fucking thumbs.

Hoyt stares across the table at the redhead twirling a pencil between his fingers. “But he’s an idiot.”

Smirking, Ned points the pencil toward him. “Yes, but one whose salary just doubled.”

I’m not sure he realizes he just insulted himself, but he never was the sharpest crayon in the box.

The nausea from last night crawls back up my throat. I didn’t think it was possible to throw up anything else, but apparently, my dignity and self-respect weren’t enough. If I don’t get out of here, I’m going to spew what’s left of my pride all over the table.

“If the rest of you have any further questions, please direct them to Mr. Prescott. Meeting adjourned.” Grabbing my backpack, I push my chair back and leave the room in a cloud of silence and shock. I make it to the bottom of the stairwell when the door at the top slams shut.

“You can’t run forever, Willie-girl.” My hand freezes on the doorknob. “Eventually, those legs of yours are gonna give out. What are you gonna do when you’ve run so far no one’s around to help?”

My eyes burn, so I close them, keeping the tears I thought were all cried out at bay. “I guess I won’t get up.”

“This isn’t what you want,” he says, leaning over the railing with a weary sigh.

“It doesn’t matter.” Bowing my head against the door, I press my forehead against the cool metal.Because what I want will never want me back.“It’s what has to happen.”

“And LaCroix? What about him? Does he matter?”

Tilting my chin, I look up at him. “Of course, he does.”

“Then why are you doin’ this? Anyone with half a brain can see you two kids are crazy about each other.”

“It was just an act.”

“Bullshit!” he yells again. It’s his favorite word today.

I wish I could explain it all—to him, to Emma, to Ben, especially to Ben. But I can’t. They’d want to help, but it’d be the wrong kind. They’d want me to fight, but it’d be against my own wrong choices. Even if Ben would listen to a word I had to say, nothing would change.

And that’s the cold truth I have to face alone.

I’d rather Ben hate me and find a way to move on with his life, than tear it apart trying to salvage mine. Either way, there’s no future for us. I fucked up, and now we’re both paying the price. The only thing I can do now is ensure Emma doesn’t get tangled in the wreckage.

“Drake has agreed to hire Ben as a consultant,” I tell him. “He’ll draw a comfortable salary. He won’t have to worry about money.” I don’t mention that the job is in title only. Drake will never let Ben within a mile of the team.

“At what price? What did you have to give in return?”

“Retribution,” I laugh weakly. And it’ll come in the form of an interview with ESPN where I admit to my father ruining Drake’s career on purpose. Because I asked him to out of jealousy and spite. Because Drake moved on, and I couldn’t accept it. Thepriceis the final nail in the Mays name.

Hoyt just shakes his head. “What has that asshole done to you?”

I don’t answer. “Can you tell the team goodbye for me?”

“No,” he grumbles pushing off the railing. “You can tell them yourself.”

“Hoyt…”

He swings the door open then pauses. Glancing back over his shoulder, he gives me that disappointed look again. The one that cuts me down to the bone. “I love you like my own kid, Willie, but if you’re gonna ruin all our lives, you’re gonna do it yourself.”

* * *

Wiping the back of my hand across my cheek, I stare at the double doors like they’re the entryway to hell. This is the last thing I expected I’d be doing today, and I’m nowhere near prepared for what waits for me on the other side.

Or who.