I jog to the front office and am quickly waved in by the staff and directed to the library. The education initiative the team has taken on became a program I really wanted to get involved in. Over the last few years, during our off-season, I finished my degree and earned my master’s in education. It’s been a long time coming, but what it means is if anything happens to me on the field, I have a backup plan.
Because of my education background, I told the front office I wanted to be involved in this program as much as possible. And giving back to libraries, that involves a more personal desire.
The school is a little rundown, but full of colorful paintings and decorations made from paper, strung and hung on the walls. There’s a bulletin board dedicated to the Bobcats that’s super cool. Baseballs made by the students out of construction paper and red-colored macaroni hang in the dedicated space along with a giant thank you.
I find Cameron and step up next to him. “Sorry, I got held up.”
“No problem, they’re just starting,” he says as the children start to cheer and go slightly crazy. Some of them bouncing on their butts in excitement.
I bend slightly and start waving at them, loving their joyful faces. When I get a chance to finally focus on a family, I want a big one. I’m still relatively young in my major league career, so I have some time before I settle down.
Scanning the room, I take in the meek surroundings, noticing the tear in the carpets and the worn-out furniture. The walls are colorful with decorations, and fake plants are scattered about, but you can tell the money we’re donating today will really help out.
My eyes roll over the school staff and I swear, I’m seeing things. I blink a few times before focusing my eyes again, but they’re still showing me the same blast from the past.
Emory?
Is that really her?
No fucking way.
Her hair is much blonder, shorter, but those eyes, those goddamn fuckable lips, and those luscious tits . . . it’s her.
And from the shocked look on her face, she wasn’t expecting to see me here.
That makes two of us.
Emory Ealson. In Chicago? For how fucking long? Is that still her name? Is she married?
A glance at her left ring finger tells me there isn’t a change of last name, at least not yet.
A gauntlet of emotions passes through me in a matter of seconds. Shock, anger . . . desire.
Fuck, she looks so damn good, even better than I remember.
After she left without saying goodbye, I tried to keep my distance. I turned off all notifications from following her on social media, not wanting to see what she was doing, or who she was doing. I tried to make that solid break. It took some time, but after a few years, I was able to move past what we had, at least that’s what I tried to convince myself. From the way my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I’m going to guess I didn’t sever those feelings. I buried them.
Vanessa, who’s in charge of the education initiative, starts her speech, something about the Bobcats stepping in to promote education and sports, but nothing registers as I continue to stare at Emory. Her eyes flicker away, her face burning red, her avoidance obvious.
But I don’t let up. I keep my eyes on her the entire time. When we’re handing over the check, when the principal makes a speech about where the funds will be going, my eyes stay directly on her.
She doesn’t pay me the same regard though. She’s doing everything in her power to avoid looking at me, even staring at those red heels of hers that make her legs look incredibly long.
“Can we get a picture with everyone?”
Vanessa motions with her hands for the staff and players to gather together behind the big check, but instead of joining, Emory takes a step back, pushing her way behind the desks where she pretends to look at some paperwork.
“Miss Ealson,” Vanessa calls out. Emory’s last name plunges a sword into my chest. All the times I called her Ealson. The way I teased her, made her laugh, threatened her with kisses while using her last name. Fuck. “Please, come join us.”
Emory looks up, but waves her hand in dismissal, not saying a word, but trying to put on a good show. When Vanessa probes again, Emory shakes her off once more. It isn’t until the principal asks her to join that Emory gives in and stands next to . . . what the fuck is Lindsay doing here?
When I catch her eyes, she looks guilty and . . . excited at the same time. Does Dottie still live in Chicago too? What the hell is going on?
Anger boils at the base of my spine. Have they been here since college? And they never once reached out? It’s not like playing for the Bobcats is a goddamn secret. My face is plastered all over Chicago.
What the fuck happened to friends always?
Trying not to lose my goddamn cool, I put on a smile for the camera, read a story to the children, shake some hands, and spend a little time with the kids before they head to lunch. Vanessa dismisses us, but instead of leaving like my teammates, I stand in place, waiting to see if she’ll approach me, if she’ll come up and say hi, if she’ll look at me one more goddamn time. When she doesn’t, I have no other choice but to call her out on this bullshit.
Chapter Thirty-Three
EMORY
Never in my life have I had a panic attack, but I’m almost positive I’m about to have one. I can barely breathe—only short intakes of air are piercing my lungs. My throat is so emotionally tight I can barely speak, and every single inch of my body is shaking with nerves.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. I wasn’t ever supposed to see him again. I’ve made it a priority to avoid him at all costs, but here he is, in the flesh, never taking his eyes off me.
After the event is over, I turn to Cora and whisper in her ear, my voice barely audible over my pounding heart. “I . . . I need”—I choke on my words, tears starting to flood my eyes—“I need to get out of here.”
“Go.” She touches my arm. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Thank you,” I mouth, because my voice has stopped working.
Without looking back, I bolt to the tiny office Cora and I share—mainly used to get away for a few seconds and have a bite to eat.
I shut the office door and lean against the wall. The moment I squeeze my eyes shut, tears stream down my cheeks and a sob slips past my lips. I slide down the wall, my hand covering my mouth to muffle my cries.
This is exactly why I avoided seeing him, because despite the time apart, everything is too raw.
Seeing him, standing there in his jersey, looking sexier than ever, it took everything inside me not to break down and cry for the loss of what we had, what our future could have been if circumstances were different. I might have ended things with Knox, trying to ensure he gave his future his all, but my heart never broke up with him. My heart never let go of him.
Squatting against the wall, I try to regain my composure, taking deep breaths and willing myself to pull it together, and then the door opens. I glance up, expecting Cora, but in place of my good friend is the man I’m still very much in love with.
I spring up to stand and quickly wipe away my tears as he shuts the door behind him.
His cologne, fresh and clean, fills the small space, followed by his ripped and sculpted body. He’s bigger than he was in college, thicker, more of a man, which is saying something since Knox was already physically in top form.