“No,” I say before I can stop myself and just like that, the waterworks start. I bring my feet up to the couch and cover my face with my hands where I let the tears flow.
“Milly,” I hear him say, his feet approaching until he sits on the coffee table in front of me. “Please talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, anger in my voice but sorrow on my face. “I thought you were done with me. I was finally starting to get over the loss of you and then like a ghost from the past, you remerge as if you didn’t flip my world upside down when you told me to get a hint. I . . . I was tr-trying to help you,” I say on a sob.
He grips my ankles and leans forward. “I know, Milly, and I’m so fucking sorry for treating you the way I did. There’s no excuse for my behavior, and all I can say is I’m sorry. I wish I handled things differently, but at the time, I had no other choice. It was like the walls were falling in on me and I was just trying to grasp at any emotion to help me survive. It was stupid and I’ll always regret it.”
“I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was that you lost your dad. I wanted to hold you, tell you everything was going to be okay, that I was there for you. I wanted to be able to hold your hand at your dad’s funeral and to give you the comfort you needed to get through a difficult time. I wasn’t asking for eternity. I was asking for you to let me in, to let me be the girlfriend you asked me to be.”
“I know.” He nods and drags his hand over his face, letting out a large sigh. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Milly. I really am.”
Not able to look him in the eye, I say, “What do you want from me, Carson? Why are you really here?”
He sits back but doesn’t answer right away.
He doesn’t answer at all actually as he stands and pulls on the back of his neck, a look of disbelief on his face.
Slowly, looking confused, he makes his way back to the door and places his hand on the knob. Before leaving, he says, “I don’t know what I want, Milly. I’m sorry.”
And once again, he leaves.
Tears well in my eyes as I stare at the closed door, wondering how I’m supposed to pull myself together in the next twenty minutes before my next lesson shows up. I glance down and spot the untouched folder and this time, it’s calling even louder.
I drop my feet to the floor and flip open the folder with one finger before I can stop myself. Pages full of Carson’s handwriting flutter and my heart flies up to my throat. I piece through them, all handwritten, all to my brothers. I bring one closer and read it.
Sean and Rian,
Spoke with Coach Disik today, told him about the facilities and the coaching staff you have. Told him about Milly and how she turned my senior season around, preparing me for professional baseball. He was impressed and will be stopping by next week. It’s not much, but it’s the least I can do.
Hope all is well and take care of Milly for me—I’m sure you are.
Carson
Tears spilling down my cheeks, I take a deep breath as my lip trembles.
He told Disik about me? About the facility?
I quickly rifle through the rest, all letters about different programs he spoke to, different coaches around the area, travel ball teams, and even some minor league guys looking to gain that extra inch. At least fifty different letters in here of every outreach he made for the business . . . for me.
He’s always believed in me, encouraged me, but this, this is something I never would have expected, for him to go out of his way and make connections so I can succeed, just how I helped him succeed.
No wonder Sean and Rian kept these to themselves, because if I knew Carson was doing this all along, I never would have been able to attempt to let him go, or let my heart grow as time between us grew apart.
Now the question is, what the hell am I going to do with this knowledge?
Chapter Sixty-Four
CARSON
“This is really stupid,” I whisper to Knox over the phone. “I need to turn around and leave. Tell me to turn around.”
“Don’t be a goddamn pussy; walk yourself up to her door and get the job done. We planned this out, it’s been a year in the making . . . if you don’t close I’m going to have the biggest case of emotional blue balls.”
“I don’t like how invested you are in this.”
“You gave me no fucking choice. You owe this to me, after being a bastard to live with for so long. You are one step away, just fucking do it already. Christ.”
“Your encouragement is award worthy.”
“Some might say I could be a motivational speaker.”
“Stick to baseball,” I deadpan, staring at her apartment door from the end of the hallway. “You should have seen her face today, dude. She was destroyed. I did that to her.”
“Yeah, and you’re putting everything back together now. Trust me, she’s not over you, Jason told me she’s not. Trust your instincts and finish what you started.”
“You know, instead of focusing on me so much, maybe you should probably try to work things out with Emory?”
He sarcastically laughs. “Okay, completely different. It’s hard to go after someone who doesn’t want you. Milly wants you, so you need to show her you’re not going to be a dumbass anymore. I’m hanging up. Don’t call me until the deed is done.”
The phone goes dead.
The ass really hung up on me. I consider calling him back, but he’ll just yell at me some more and honestly, I’m not in the mood. Instead, I pocket my phone, rub my sweaty hands on my shorts, and close the distance between Milly’s apartment and me.
This is it, everything I’ve been working toward the past year.
One question is all I have to ask, and her answer will speak volumes.
On a deep breath, I knock. The TV is muted before her feet pad across the floor. I prepare myself to set my eyes on her countless freckles and endearing eyes, but when she opens the door, I’m not ready for what I see on the other end.
She’s . . . fuck, she’s so goddamn beautiful.
In the years we’ve been a part, she hasn’t changed much. Her glasses are different, black-rimmed instead of tortoiseshell and a little smaller, but not by much. They frame her eyes more, making them seem almost brighter . . . more defined. And her hair, it barely kisses her shoulders and is parted to the side, silky and beautiful. I want to pass my fingers through it, absorb the texture into my memory.
Her body, defined and gorgeous as it was before but instead of her baggy clothing, she seems to have tightened everything up, outlining her body for the world to see.
There’s no denying she’s just as irresistible as she was in college, but now more mature—which makes my heart ache and guilt consume me—because it’s a stark reminder that my idiocy kept us apart.
“Carson,” she says on a gasp. “What are you doing here?”
Keep it short and sweet.
This is the invite. If she accepts, that’s when I lay it all out on the line.
I grip the doorframe and lean in, carefully taking in the way her eyes widen as they roam my chest. She’s not the only one who’s changed and from every small perusal, I know she’s thinking the same thing.