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14

LIFE CHANGING

Jamie

Every so often you’re aware of a life-changing moment when it’s happening, and when I step onto the field at the Metros stadium with my hand wrapped around Amanda’s, I know this is one I’ll remember forever. It’s the start of a new journey, one that’s destined to affect every part of my life.

It’s been a whirlwind twenty-four hours. Not even. It’s been just over twelve. After the phone call last night, we went over to Aaron and Rae’s apartment because I had to tell Aaron in person. Plus, I wanted his advice, and I figured Amanda would want to talk to Rae too. I’m so thankful for Amanda. She’s endlessly supportive, but I know this is a shift in her life too.

We crashed for a few hours, got up early, packed some things, went to my parents’ house to tell them and my siblings the good news, then drove here. It’s barely lunchtime, but it’s already been an insanely long day. I’m running on adrenaline and excitement right now, but once we’re out of the stadium, I know I’m going to crash.

“What do you think?” Marc Demoda asks. He’s the pitching coach for the Metros and used to be one of their pitchers. He was the first person I met from the team. Aaron reached out to him on my behalf, and he came to see me play long before any other scouts did. He and Aaron got to know each other and bonded over hand injuries that took them out of the game.

Though I’ve met most of the team in passing, and had conversations and at least slightly gotten to know others, Marc is my main point of contact here.

“It’s just like I remember it.” For Aaron’s bachelor party back in October, I called in a favor with Marc and organized a game with some of the Metros players going up against our friends from high school right here at the stadium. Yes, I have every intention of reminding all the Metros guys we beat them—at least I will if they give me shit.

“Ready for it to be your home?”

“Hell yes.”

“Photographer’s here,” Dave calls from near the dugout.

Marc waves him over and Dave joins us.

“These are just some publicity shots, so we’ll get a few of you on the mound, and Amanda, if you’re open to it, we’d like to get a few of both of you.”

“Sure,” she says with a smile. Then wiggles her brows at me and gives me a little push. “Go flex some muscles.”

A woman with a clipboard walks onto the field, followed by another younger woman.

The woman with a clipboard approaches, and her energy tells me she’s probably someone in charge of PR. “Actually, let’s get a few of you both first, then Amanda can get started on her tour of the stadium.” She gestures to the younger woman behind her, who smiles at Amanda.

I grab Amanda’s hand and lead her out to the mound. All the while, the camera snaps behind us. They take a few cutesy shots of us standing together on the mound, then Amanda turns to me and looks up into my eyes, a troublemaking smile on her face.

“You’re totally imagining fucking me here, aren’t you?” she whispers .

My cheeks heat and my eyes flare. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. Sometimes, the things that come out of her mouth still surprise me.

“Baby, you’re killing me.”

“Because you’re thinking about it now, right?”

I wrap my hand around the side of her neck and lean in to kiss her.

“Hey! We aren’t paying for a couple’s shoot!” Dave calls.

Amanda laughs and steps back.

“You just like causing trouble.”

She slowly shakes her head. “Nope. I like seeing you smile. And you have been, but not like that. I can see the way your mind is whirring. Stop. Let it go. Take all this in.” She quickly kisses my cheek. “This is your dream. Revel in it.”

Then she squeezes my hand and scampers off the mound toward the woman waiting to give her a tour.

Marc’s eyes flit from her to me, and he shakes his head with a smile.

A glove and a ball are dropped at my feet, and we get back the photoshoot.

I’ve signed so much paperwork today my fingers hurt.

Not really. My hands are conditioned as fuck. Is hand porn a thing?

Wait, did they do that on Friends ?

Whatever. Clearly, my sanity is slipping. It’s four in the afternoon and we have one more thing to do after this before we can head back to the hotel. I’m wavering between pumped and absolutely exhausted.

As I slide the last paper across my agent’s desk, his phone goes off.

“Yeah? Perfect. Send her in. ”

My brows dart up. The only her I care about is sitting right next to me.

“What’s up?” I ask.

Dave smiles. “You were called up at the perfect time to land a great publicity opportunity. A sports reporter was pitching an idea of doing a profile piece on what life is like for a new player to the major league. One of the youngest pitchers the Metros have drafted in a while and a superstar who rose from a fifth-round pick to AAA in a matter of weeks is an even better selling point.”

The office door swings open, and Dave stands.

“Emily, come on in.”

I stand as well and take in the thin woman with short dark hair tucked up in a ponytail.

“Jamie, this is Emily Thomas. Emily, this is Jamie, and his girlfriend, Amanda.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Emily says, projecting an air of confidence.

I glance at Amanda out of the corner of my eye. Thankfully, she keeps her yes-I’m-judging-you face to herself. Not that she typically does it in a bad way. It’s all about getting a read on people and deciding whether she thinks they’re decent humans.

“You too,” I say.

“Yes. Definitely,” Amanda says, sitting back down. She has a soft smile on her face, so I guess that means Emily passed the vibe check.

“So what does a profile piece entail?” I ask. I’ve never done more than interviews with bloggers or local press, or an occasional podcast. All less than an hour of talking and I’m done. I’ve had media training. Though I give Jesse a lot of shit, he knows his stuff, and he trained us all well. “It’s different from an interview, I’m assuming.”

“Yes. An interview will be part of it, and it’s what I’ll use to tie the whole piece together, but it won’t be one interview, it’ll be many. Lots of informal ones with you, those closest to you, and ideally, some people from the team. I’ll be at some games you pitch, both at home and traveling. It’ll also involve me following you around, seeing what your daily life is like, what I find in the moments when you’re not talking.”

My eyes go to my agent. “No offense, but that sounds like everything I was trained not to do with the media.”

Dave nods. “We will have final approval of the profile. Ideally, it’s meant to paint you in an interesting and positive light.”

“And how long will you be following me?”

“Most of the rest of the season. The plan would be for it to come out around the playoffs. And don’t worry, I won’t be popping up everywhere in your life. It’ll more be for certain games or team events. Interviews will be scheduled. I’ll never just show up at your door.”

“And any other press will know she’s a reporter, right?” I ask Dave. “Because that’s how rumors start.”

I rest my hand on Amanda’s thigh, looking over at her.

“We will make it clear that’s the case, and Emily can post about it on her social media.”

“Besides, that really shouldn’t be a concern,” Amanda says. “A meeting looks different from something untoward. She’s a professional, so that won’t be a problem.”

Emily clears her throat. “Thank you. Some women might… assume the worst.”

Amanda flashes her a smile. “You’re clearly a badass if you’re rising in the sports industry. Especially since that’s always harder as a woman. You shouldn’t ever have to worry about someone assuming the worst.”

“Thank you. So much better than needing to pull up my social media and prove I’m a lesbian and in a relationship.”

Amanda rests her hand on mine. “Are you okay with this? It’s your call.”

I glance at my agent. His smile says it’s my call, but his eyes tell me my decision better be yes.

“I’m okay with it as long as I have the freedom to set some boundaries. I’m a private, introverted person, so a lot of attention is a struggle for me. I know that’s already increasing now, which is all the more reason I want to control it where I can.”

Emily nods. “I’ll always respect that. All I ask is that you respect my time in return. If we’ve planned to meet, I expect you to be on time and focused, not late, drinking, or being combative.”

“I can do that.”

“Okay, then. Dave has the contract, but you should read through it as well.” She looks at Dave. “Have it back to me by Friday, so it’ll be ready for his first game?”

“Will do. Thank you, Emily.”

With a nod, she walks out, and I want to sag in my chair. Now the exhaustion is kicking in. Though it’s an honor to have someone wanting to do a profile on me, the thought of having to be on more than I already will be is a touch overwhelming.

Amanda slips her hand into mine, and a bit of peace flows through me. I’m so grateful she’s here with me. It makes handling all the changes and chaos easier.

With the contract sent to my email, we head for our last stop of the day.

“So as you can see, this is a great neighborhood. The building has lots of amenities. It’s very safe, and the apartment is surprisingly spacious.”

It’s also dark, extremely modern, far from the stadium, and doesn’t feel like home the way our apartment in Ida does.

I kept the lease for that because I want Amanda to be able to live there whenever she’s in town and for us to live there together in the off-season. She’ll be heading into her senior year of college in a few months, then after that, we should finally have less distance in our lives. I can’t expect her to travel with me to every game, but hopefully she’ll travel to some at least. Then we’ll live here during the season. Maybe not here .

“It’s nice, but…” I trail off, glancing at Amanda, who couldn’t hide the look on her face if she tried, which is why she’s staring out the window. “Not exactly our style.”

“You know, it’s not as easy to find exactly what you want here like it is in a small town. This is a month-to-month lease for a good price. Give it a try. If you hate it, at least you’ll have somewhere to live that’s not a hotel while you find somewhere else. I think you’ll really end up liking this neighborhood, though.”

I glance over at Amanda again and sigh. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Perfect,” Dave says. “I’ll have the paperwork drawn up. It should be move-in ready by this weekend.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for all your help.” I extend my hand to Dave, and he shakes it.

“No problem. I’m going to go downstairs and speak with the property manager. Come down when you’re ready.”

I nod, and he walks out.

Slowly, I make my way over to Amanda and wrap my arms around her from behind, leaning into her and inhaling her scent.

“What do you think?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“I hate it,” she says with a laugh, spinning in my arms. “But we’ll figure it out. We’ll find ways to make it ours. And if we don’t… this is a big city.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.”

She wraps her arms tightly around me. “There’s nowhere else I’d be. You told me once that you didn’t see your future, you saw our future. I’ll walk through it by your side.”

Gently, I press my lips against hers, getting lost in the comfort and safety that wraps around me. My mind is still blown in the best way. I expected times of going back and forth between AAA and the majors, but this is it. All in. I know I’ve earned it, but it’s still insane. My skin prickles with awareness that this is a moment my life is changing forever.

All but this. I rub my hands up and down Amanda’s back. This is the one thing I know will never change. I’ll always have her. We’ll always have each other, and we’ll find our way through whatever comes next together.

Amanda

In another life, I could’ve been a city girl.

I love my small towns. I love my small-town friend group, but holy shit. Less than twenty-four hours in and the sheer volume of places to go and things to do is filling my explorative, foodie, extroverted cup.

Jamie is at the stadium for some of the day, so I’m off to meet up with a friend, because I happen to have one—and only one—in the city.

Mark Abbott is a quarterback for the New York Bandits, the best team in New York, and a rising star throughout the country. He’s also Rae, Sarah, and Dani’s cousin. He sees all of us in the friend group as additional family members, and treats all the girls like extra sisters to protect.

He greets me with a hug when I get to the table at a cute little bistro.

“Thanks for being my lunch buddy today. This place looks amazing.”

“I’m happy to have some company besides sweaty meathead football players.”

I laugh at that, perusing my menu. “I’m surprised you’re here and not in Ida.”

Mark got caught in a whirlwind romance back in February while on vacation. In a hilarious twist of fate, she lives in Ida. Since it’s his off-season, he’s been spending a lot of time there.

“I had a few meetings, plus I need more clothes. I was doing laundry twice a week.”

“Aw, that’s adorable. You’re so in looove,” I sing .

He rolls his eyes. “Okay, maybe I’ll take the sweaty meatheads.”

“Please, I’m infinitely better company and I smell good.”

“Well, I’m not going to smell you because you’re like a little sister to me, and also, I don’t want to get punched by Jamie, so I’ll have to take your word for it. How’s he doing?”

“Good. A little overwhelmed. It’s a lot for his sweet introvert soul, but he’s also extremely excited.”

“I remember that feeling, and I’m not an introvert.”

Being an extrovert runs in the Abbott genetics.

“How are you doing with it?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Nope. Way too quick an answer.”

Sighing, I set my menu down. “I’m good. This isn’t my thing. I’m here to support Jamie.”

“We both know that’s not true. Your life is going to change now. To some degree, you’ll be in the public eye. And even if you weren’t, it’s still a change of location and lifestyle.”

“Admittedly, I don’t love the location—well, not the apartment they found for us. It’s horrible, but I didn’t want to push it. Jamie needs somewhere to settle, even if it’s temporary. I can survive hating it for a couple of months, then we can look for somewhere new during the off-season.”

“Just remember, you still matter. You know, Frannie and I have spent a lot of time talking about what this upcoming season will look like. She’s going to try to be at home games when she can and spend weekends here, but she’s not giving up her job or the rest of her life just to be here. It’ll suck, but we both know it’s the right call. I know you and Jamie have been together longer, but you still need to make a plan and talk about how all this is going to work. If you don’t, you’re going to be the one who ends up struggling.”

Well, damn. He didn’t have to punch me right in the gut.

“I know. But it’s different. You’re already established in your career. Jamie is just starting. I want to support him in every possible way. It’ll be a lot to manage, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Just remember, you still matter. Don’t get so caught up in being there for him that you forget to do things for yourself.”

“I appreciate that. And I’ve still got plenty of things happening. I’m in the midst of planning a wedding that’s happening in July and another event back home as well.”

“That’s right. I forgot you’re the event queen. Now that you’re down here, would you mind if I gave your name to someone?”

“Not at all. I can plan events from a distance and as long as I don’t double book myself, I can make sure I’m where I need to be.”

“Cool.” He grabs his phone and types out a text. “One of my teammates and his wife are putting on an event but their planner delivered her baby really early, so she’s taking time off to be at the NICU with the baby. They need someone to step in.”

“I’m happy to jump in and roll with the plans already formed.”

Then my stomach leaps with excitement. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. But running an event for an NFL player? That could be huge for me. If Jamie is going to be here for almost half the year, my business will be partially based here.

I make a mental note to update my website and make sure my social media aesthetic looks perfect.

There’s definitely going to be a learning curve for Jamie and me through all this, but if anyone can handle it, it’s me. Turning chaos into something beautiful is what I do. There’s no reason I can’t do that in my own life.

Lunch with Mark was fun, but some of his words were a stark reminder of the changes Jamie and I will be facing in the coming months.

I’m headstrong and determined, even on a bad day, so I’ve been plowing through most of the changes so far with a plucky good attitude and bad bitch energy.

Leaving lunch today was a slap in the face of what I can expect, though, as paps waited outside the restaurant and snapped picture after picture while yelling questions at Mark and asking me who I was.

It shook me a little at first, but then I turned my withering glare on them and felt a little better.

Now I’m navigating the subway, trying to get back to our hotel. I’ve checked the stops three times, so I’m reasonably confident, but I still feel very much the small-town girl in the big city.

My phone rings as I wait for the train to pull up, and I smile when I see my favorite name on the screen. Baseball boyfriend .

“Hey, babe.”

“Mands—where are?—”

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“When—back?—”

A train pulls to a stop, and I press the phone harder to my ear. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m about to hop on the subway. I should be back to the hotel soon, and we can talk then. I love you!”

Then I hang up and scurry into the car.

Definitely a learning curve for this stuff, but I’m confident I can figure it out and be a pro at all this in no time.

When I walk into the hotel room, Jamie is on his phone and pacing.

“She’s back, gotta go.”

He hangs up and walks over to me, concern and frustration on his face.

“Where have you been?”

“I went to lunch with Mark. I told you this morning that I was going to. Then I explored the area for a bit. I was getting on the subway when you called. What’s wrong?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, then unlocks his phone.

“This.”

He turns the screen toward me, and it’s filled with articles about Mark… and me.

“Jesus.” I grab the phone from him and read through the headlines.

Some call me a mystery woman. Some imply that I’m a home-wrecker. One somehow knows who I am and questions if Mark is planning a wedding.

Jamie looks over the edge of his phone and clicks on one specifically that identifies me as his girlfriend and has way too many details about me. It also questions whether Mark and I happen to be friends since we both have ties to Ida or if we’re having an affair.

I’m about to turn the screen off, when I catch a glimpse of the first comment. Unable to stop myself, I scroll down to the comment section, my throat tightening as I read through them.

Like he’d cheat with someone who looks like her.

He could do a lot better.

No guy wants a fat cow like that.

Fat slut is probably playing them both.

I wonder if she jiggles while they fuck.

Tears fill my eyes and Jamie is instantly next to me.

“What?”

I try to turn the phone screen off, but he snatches it out of my hand, reading through the comments.

I sniff back my tears. People are mean. They’re assholes who sit behind keyboards and insult others to make themselves feel better. I shouldn’t let their words bother me. I know who I am.

It shouldn’t hurt.

But it fucking does. Because some of the deepest wounds—the ones I’ve worked hardest on and try to bury deep inside me—involve my weight.

The people who matter love me exactly as I am, but that doesn’t make it easier to be the source of such unnecessary vitriol.

“I just need a minute.”

I hurry over to the bathroom, ignoring as Jamie calls after me.

The bathroom isn’t very big, so I have nowhere to go. I sink to the floor, leaning against the bathtub, and pull my knees up to my chest. Everything hurts, and all I want to do is break. I’m trying and failing to hold it together, so I stop fighting the tears.

I feel awful. And was Jamie being accusatory when I first walked in? Is this what I have to look forward to anytime Jamie and I do anything? There’s a lot I can manage, but I don’t know how to manage this.

Normally, this is when I’d find myself surrounded by the girls in a cocoon of love, but I don’t have that here. I miss them. I miss my perfect dream apartment. I miss home.

Jamie knocks on the door. “Mands…” He tries the handle, and when it opens, he walks in, pausing when he sees me.

I try to wipe my tears, but more come.

He sits down next to me and wraps his arm around me, fingers curling through my hair.

“Are you mad at me?” I sniff.

“No. I’m mad at all those fuckers who wrote those things about you.”

“But were you mad at me? Because it seemed like you were when I came in.”

“I was mad at the situation and mad that my agent was yelling at me like it was all my fault, not the paparazzi’s.”

“I’m sorry. ”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” He sighs and rests his head against mine. “We’ve got a learning curve to figure out, but we can do that together.”

“I’m not going to make you look bad, am I?”

“No. All it’ll take is one post on social media to clear it all up. Even if we didn’t, it wouldn’t make a difference. It’s okay. But you’re not okay. And that pisses me off because I don’t want anyone hurting you.”

I wipe at my eyes. “I need to grow some thicker skin.”

“No. I like your beautiful heart just the way it is. I like all of you the way you are. People are awful and cruel, and I’m sorry you were on the receiving end of it, but that’s a reflection of them, not you. From the moment I first saw you, no one else has ever compared. You are stunning. A goddess. A queen. My queen. I hate that those words hit somewhere deep down and make you think they’re true because they’re not. If you could see yourself through my eyes…” He sighs, but it’s not a tired sigh this time. It’s like he’s in awe of me. He tilts my chin so I’m looking at him. “You would never doubt your beauty, inside or out. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m sorr?—”

“Nope. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I’m supposed to be supporting you.”

“We’re supposed to be a team. I’m sorry I was snappy with you when you walked in. I was stressed. But it’s going to be okay. I’ll call Dave back later.”

“And tell him what? What should we do?”

“We either ignore it and give them nothing, or—if you think you’ll spend more time with Mark—we make a quick social media post about it or ask him to. It establishes what your friendship is. And mine too. I’m glad he’ll be in the city some of the time when I am. It’s not the same road, but he’s walked a similar one and I could use his advice.”

“Is it a total copout to ask him to post something?”

“No. Dave even said it would make more sense. He was yelling at me because we didn’t get our stories straight this time. ”

“I didn’t think about this side of things,” I whisper, feeling pathetic.

“Neither did I. But we’ll figure it out. Even if we make mistakes along the way, we both have good hearts and good intentions. That’s all that matters.” He wipes the tears off my cheeks. “Now, I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you won’t read any more comments.”

I bite my lip. That’s going to be hard. The curious and people pleasing pieces of me will always want to know, even if I shouldn’t.

“I’ll do my best.”

He narrows his eyes but lets it go.

We sit in silence for a moment. I still feel like shit, but it’s not quite as bad with him next to me.

“How was your day?” I’m desperate for a subject change, and I’m hoping maybe he’ll have something positive to tell me.

“It was good. The apartment is ours, so we can start moving things in this weekend. Dave recommended renting furniture, and I agree that sounds easier.”

I nod. “That makes sense.” Plus, I don’t want to move my shit into an apartment I hate that I’m determined to be out of by the end of the season.

“We can start with the basics, then make a list of specific things. Oh, and I officially picked my number today.”

The tinge of excitement in his voice perks me up. In the past, he never cared much about his numbers, and took whatever he was assigned.

“What did you pick? Did you stick with six like high school? Or keep thirteen from the Knights?”

“Neither. I picked twenty-six. Do you know why?”

I shake my head, and he smiles, eyes shining. “Because December twenty-sixth was the day my life changed forever.” He caresses his thumb over my hand as I stare at him wide-eyed. “The day I met you. ”

“Jamie…”

“Now I’ll always have the most important piece of my life with me.”

More tears well in my eyes, but at least these are happy ones. I squeeze his hand, and he squeezes mine back.

“I also found out when my first game pitching will be.”

I grab his arm in excitement. “When?”

“Next week. Tuesday. In L.A. Will you come? The Metros allow wives or girlfriends to travel with us. We’d have our own room, and?—”

I lean in and kiss him. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m not missing your official Metros debut.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Good. Because I couldn’t do this without you.”

I gently run my thumb over his cheek. “How long will we be there?”

“Monday through Thursday. We should be able to do a little sightseeing on the days I’m not starting.”

“Sounds perfect,” I say, even as I realize I’ll have to miss volleyball next week. I’ll probably go back this week and pack some things for both of us. There’s no way we brought enough with us. After that, I’ll make a schedule of where I’ll be when, and I’ll have to check my important dates with the team’s travel dates.

For a second, I wonder if I should quit my rec league, but I don’t want to do that. I love playing with Chelsea and Dani, and with this being our last year of college and full-time careers starting soon, I don’t know if we’ll play next year or not. I don’t want to miss out on this. I’ll also need to factor in the wedding and other events I’m planning.

Jamie rubs his thumb over my hand, drawing my attention back to him.

“Thank you for being here with me. I could probably do it alone, but everything is easier with you here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d be,” I say, and despite all the conflicting feelings I have right now, it’s the absolute truth.

He pulls me into his arms, and I melt against him. My safe place. My person. Even though the familiar sense of peace and home washes over me when I’m in his arms, for the first time, I’m questioning how I’m going to handle all this.