Page 65 of Reality With You (Arden Beach #1)
T he machine methodically spat out baseballs and Dylan methodically swung at them, hitting each one with enough force to send them crashing against the opposite end of the cage. He only paused to lift up the hem of his shirt and wipe the sweat from his brow, then swung again.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, Lennon was standing where he was.
Dylan had his arms wrapped around her, guiding her swing as he fought against the distractions of what he really wanted to do to her.
Everything had fallen back into place. He’d held her tight in bed that night, determined not to lose her again.
Yet somehow, he had.
Dylan was reeling from how quickly it had all fallen apart, and not even entirely sure what—or how—it had happened. The whole thing was a blur. He hadn’t fully processed all the bombs Kelsey had dropped before Lennon’s detonated. He was still picking out the shrapnel, trying to make sense of it.
“This was a nice distraction, but we’ve both got a lot we’re trying to accomplish. Maybe one day, the timing will be right for us. For now, we have to stay focused on what’s important.”
Dylan winced. What’s important. As if what they had wasn’t.
He swung at the next ball with more aggression, the crack of the bat mimicking the feeling in his chest when she’d said it.
It hadn’t been just a distraction to him, and he had a hard time believing it had been to her, either.
He could feel it in her kiss. Her touch. The way she’d responded to him .
Had she changed her mind, and Kelsey had given her an out, or was she doing what she thought he wanted?
The machine stopped shooting balls, going empty. Dylan dropped the bat with a heavy exhale. His phone chimed from the bench outside the batting cage to alert him that someone was at the gate. He swung open the door and rushed to grab it, hoping it was Lennon.
The smug face smiling at the camera stoked the fire burning through him. Dylan smacked the button to activate the microphone as he squinted toward the sky. “What the hell do you want, Pierce?”
“Afternoon. Free for a chat?” Nolan answered with mock-friendliness, brandishing a smirk beneath a pair of wayfarer sunglasses.
“If you want a meeting with me, call my manager. I think I have some openings in a couple of years.”
“You think Lennon can wait that long?”
Dylan clenched his jaw at her name in his mouth. “What does this have to do with her?
“Open the gate and I’ll tell you.”
Dylan almost told him to go fuck himself, like he wished he’d done with Kelsey, but he didn’t want to risk Nolan going straight to Lennon if he turned him away. He opened the gate without another word, then took his time heading inside.
After Dylan toweled off, downed some water, and changed out of his sweat-soaked shirt, he finally answered the door.
Nolan stood a few steps from the threshold, his body angled between the door and the steps.
Despite the heat, he wore a navy blue, three-piece suit.
Always trying so damn hard. He regarded Dylan with a knowing, slightly perturbed look, which gave him a sliver of satisfaction.
“You know, I came here to make you a pretty generous offer,” Nolan remarked, one hand resting casually in a pocket of his dress pants. His driver waited by the vehicle parked in the motor court behind him. “But maybe I should let you hang.”
Dylan lifted his arm, leaning it on the doorframe. “There’s nothing I need from you.”
The corner of Nolan’s mouth curved slightly.
He removed his sunglasses. “By now, you’re probably aware of my deal with Versal.
” His eyes sharpened on Dylan like he was unsheathing a blade.
“I know what happened at the party, and that you’ve called a meeting with the board later today to make a case for a mid-season return.
” Dylan curled his hand into a fist as a weight settled in his gut.
Lennon had been right—Nolan’s hands were all over it.
“If it works, it buys Eddie some time, and you get to slip back on the team before that damning episode airs.” Nolan glanced toward one of the stone statues in the courtyard of a female figure holding a pot under one arm, pouring water into a basin. “Cancel the meeting.”
“Sure, I’ll call them right now,” Dylan slung back, heavy with sarcasm.
Nolan directed his gaze back to Dylan. “You do, and I’ll guarantee that footage never sees the light of day.”
Dylan laughed humorlessly. “So, I have to fake-date Kelsey and help you get the Tidebreakers?”
Nolan’s eyes marginally narrowed. “I don’t know anything about Kelsey. This is between you and me.”
“You already tried to hire a journalist to take me down. For all I know, you’re the one who had someone drug me so you could use it for blackmail.”
“For all I know, you got fucked up and you’re scrambling to hide it with some fake story about being a victim because you have no proof. I could leak the footage right now and get what I want, but I’m coming to you as a gesture of good faith.”
Dylan scrutinized him, not sure what to make of this. What game was he playing?
“What really happened is irrelevant,” Nolan continued, shrugging it off.
“If you agree to leave the team for good and back my bid for it—or at the very least, not get in the way—I’ll not only bury the footage from the party, but I’ll make sure Lennon gets a favorable edit on the show, something the showrunners currently have no intention of doing.
” He paused, letting the implications hang between them for a moment.
“I’ll also throw in a record deal, one that won’t drop her.
You know I have the connections to make it happen. ”
Nolan successfully landed a blow to Dylan’s resolve.
It would solve all of their problems—Lennon’s especially—at the cost of being a traitor to his father and Eddie.
But something about the deal didn’t sit right with him from Nolan’s side.
Even with Dylan’s support, it wouldn’t guarantee him the team, and if he wanted to hurt Dylan, the footage was enough to do damage.
It didn’t make sense. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m trying to make a deal that benefits us both. It’s business.”
“Then, why does it feel like a trap?”
Nolan chuckled, the sound dry and patronizing. He scratched an eyebrow with his thumb. “You know the difference between us, Strickland?”
“A soul.”
“I don’t hate you and your father based on a lie,” he answered.
“Your father hired someone to injure mine, so he’d lose the championship, then spent the next few decades trying to ruin his career.”
“You got any proof of that?”
“We know Lan did business with the player who did it. And anyone who knows anything about baseball can tell it wasn’t an accident.”
“So, in other words … no.”
Dylan stared blankly at him, his patience wearing thin. “Your father let jealousy get between them. It killed my dad. Lan was still a brother to him.”
Nolan swiped his tongue through his lips and looked away, appearing to recede into thought.
The fountain’s gentle trickle of water and the breeze rustling the palm trees filled his brief silence.
“Did you know my father knew your mother in college, before she met Rhett?” Dylan’s eyebrows drew together, a flicker of doubt skimming his gut.
His father had never mentioned it. “He told me she was a dancer who wanted to be on Broadway after graduation, but she married your father instead and gave up her dreams to support his.” Nolan turned back to him, cold and hard.
“That’s why I don’t respect you and your father—you self-righteously act like family is important to you, but you prove time and time again that your so-called legacy trumps everything.
He put it ahead of his friendship with my father and his marriage to your mother. ”
Anger and defensiveness coiled tightly in Dylan’s throat, along with something else he couldn’t quite place but that left him uneasy.
“You can give Lennon what your father couldn’t give your mother, or you can follow in his footsteps and put that legacy ahead of her best interest,” Nolan continued. “Your choice.”
His words sliced a nerve, slowly seeping in.
That’s what that other feeling was.
Shame.
“My offer expires tonight.” Nolan reached into his jacket’s inner pocket, producing a business card on thick cardstock.
He propped it in the hand of the statue, glancing at Dylan one last time before strolling down the steps as his driver opened one of the vehicle’s rear doors. He slipped inside, not looking back.