The Ninth Inning Read online

Page 12


  He looked me in the eyes and asked, “What are you thinking?”

  I sucked in a breath and chose honesty. “I was just wondering, why now? Nothing’s changed,” I asked because the cold, hard truth was that nothing about our situations had altered in the slightest. It made no sense for his mind to have switched.

  His head shook like I couldn’t be more wrong. “Everything’s changed. I’ve been living my life for one thing for so long that I didn’t know any other way to live.”

  “But you do now?”

  “Not even a little bit.” He let out a guttural laugh. “But I want to try with you.”

  I folded my hands in my lap. “But why? Why now? Why me?”

  He wasn’t offended by my questions, but he looked unsure of how to respond to them. We both stayed quiet, soaking in the moments while I waited for him to say something.

  “I realized that nothing works if you aren’t with me. My hitting didn’t start to really suffer until I tried to force you out of my life for good. It was stupid. It was wrong.” He pushed up from the couch again and started slowly pacing in front of me. He tossed his hat to the floor and tugged at his hair. “I thought I was getting some kind of balance by concentrating on only one aspect of my life, but it was the exact opposite. Focusing all of my time and attention on baseball created an unevenness inside of me. But I couldn’t see that. I didn’t put it together until today.”

  “The game,” I said as the realization hit me like a fast ball. “That’s why you looked in the stands and pointed your helmet at me.” He nodded as another question popped into my mind, “So, you’re using me for your batting average?” I asked, half-joking and half-serious.

  He had just said that his hitting suffered once he left me. What if he only wants me around to get it back on track? What if I’m basically just good for business?

  “No, Christina. I’m not using you. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I want you.”

  “What are you saying, Cole? I need to hear it. I need to hear you say it out loud.”

  “I do too,” Lauren shouted from her room.

  I yelled at her to close her door. She grunted before slamming it shut, and Cole and I both smiled.

  “I’m asking for a chance.” He lowered himself in between my legs, his large frame sitting right in the dead center of my universe. “I sure as hell don’t deserve it, but I promise I won’t ruin it. I won’t be perfect, but I’m going to try. I have a lot to learn, but please don’t give up on me.”

  Part of me knew I should make him beg harder or grovel more, but nothing erased the fact that we deserved a chance at being together. It was the one thing I’d always wanted ever since I first met him during our freshman year. And I refused to throw away the opportunity because of my pride or to prove some sort of moot point.

  “You really want to do this?”

  “If you’ll have me,” he said, sounding unsure of what I’d say in response. When I didn’t say anything, he added, “I am sorry it took me so long.”

  I leaned forward and shut him up with my lips this time. Kissing Cole was something that was way too easy to get used to. I could get lost in those lips if I allowed myself ... but first, logic.

  I pulled away, breaking the kiss. “I need you to leave.”

  “Wait, what?” He pushed to his feet, his full frame towering over me.

  “It’s just ...” I formulated my thoughts. “I need to make sure this isn’t some heat-of-the-moment kind of thing because of Logan. I need to know that you’ll still mean all this in the morning.”

  He reached for my hands and pulled me up. “I will still mean all this in the morning.”

  “Good. Then, you can tell me all this again then.” I held a hand toward the front door, expecting him to take the hint.

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am,” I said. “I need to make sure you still feel the same way when you open your eyes tomorrow.”

  “I will,” he said, his tone filled with determination as he leaned down to pick up his hat before heading toward the door.

  “Okay,” I said, my tone clearly skeptical. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “No.” He stopped walking. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled out his phone and looked down at it. “Be ready by eleven.”

  I eased my head back in surprise. “Ready for what?”

  “I’m taking you out to eat, for starters. In a real restaurant. On a real date.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead before shoving his phone back in his pocket.

  “At eleven?” Lauren pulled her bedroom door wide open and rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, you guys. Like I wasn’t going to eavesdrop.”

  Cole laughed before focusing his attention back on me. “I know that dinner is more romantic, but I don’t want to wait that long to see you again. I never get days off. I’ll be here at eleven. That’s only eight and a half hours from now.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” I said with a little more snark than I had meant, but I wasn’t sure that all this wouldn’t go away.

  “I know you don’t believe me, and that’s okay. I’ll show you, Christina. I meant every word I said tonight. I’ll see you soon.” He pulled open the door and stepped out before leaning his face back in. “And don’t worry, Lauren; we’ll bring you a doggie bag,” he added with a laugh before shutting the door behind him.

  I immediately turned to face Lauren, a million questions racing through me. “What do you think? Is he being sincere? Does he mean it?”

  From my perspective, Cole had seemed genuine, but I didn’t trust myself to read him correctly. People convinced themselves all the time that they felt certain things when they really didn’t. Humans were masters at lying—and not only to other people, but to themselves the most. I needed an outside opinion.

  She walked into the living room, her head shaking and her eyes wide. “I totally think he means it. That boy is going to be here at eleven. The same way he showed up here after his game today,” she said.

  I had forgotten all about that. “Oh, yeah. What happened? He came over here? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “He was looking for you, and I told him to leave you alone. I said if he cared about you at all, he’d let you be happy for once.” She reached for me and pulled me into a hug before letting me go. “I didn’t know Logan was such a jerk. I didn’t see it. And I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not your fault. I didn’t see it either,” I said, annoyed that I seemed to be so freaking awful at reading guys.

  Either that or they were really good liars. Maybe it was a combination of both, I decided.

  “Cole tried to tell me,” she argued. “But I didn’t believe him.”

  “Why would you?” I asked, trying to make her feel better about the situation. “Anyway ...”

  “Anyway,” she repeated. “Better go get some beauty sleep.”

  “You really think he’ll show up?” I asked again because I wasn’t convinced. At least not a hundred percent. I didn’t think I’d believe Cole meant it until he was standing at my front door, picking me up.

  “I do. And if he doesn’t, I’ll cut his nuts off and sell them online.”

  “Too far,” I said with a laugh before I headed toward my room. “Night, weirdo.”

  “Night.”

  I could have stayed up for hours, talking to Lauren and asking her more questions, but there was no point. Whatever was going to happen with Cole tomorrow was going to happen whether or not I overanalyzed it. If he’d truly meant what he said, then he’d follow through. And if it was just some spur-of-the-moment emotional response, then I’d finally know the truth. We both would. And no amount of sweet-talking could ever get him to convince me otherwise.

  No matter how much I wanted Cole to show up tomorrow and mean what he said, I wouldn’t believe it until I saw it. And I refused to feel hopeful about his promises or hold my breath in regard to them. I wasn’t willing to put my heart on the line for him again if he wasn’
t serious.

  I guessed I’d find out in about eight hours from now.

  First Date Nerves

  Cole

  Christina didn’t trust me, and I’d given her every reason in the book over the years not to. I wasn’t deterred because I had every intention on fixing this. I would do right by her, make it up to her, and sweep her off her damn feet.

  God knows she deserves it.

  Once I got home, the house had already been cleared out, and only a few party stragglers remained passed out on the couches and the floor. There were messages from both Mac and Chance, telling me good luck and that they hoped I’d gotten the girl. I smiled before locking myself in my room and thinking about plans for tomorrow. I knew exactly where I wanted to take her to eat, but after that, I wasn’t entirely sure. My days were typically so planned out that I didn’t have that much free time. I almost didn’t know what the hell to do with it all.

  Reaching for my phone, I set my alarm. If I didn’t, I knew I’d sleep until mid-afternoon and screw everything up without even meaning to. I’d promised her I’d try. For her, I’d try to pretend like I knew how to be a boyfriend when the truth was that I’d never done it before. Not really. I wasn’t worried about being faithful or messing around with other chicks; that was not going to be an issue. My main concern was letting her down. I’d done so much of that already. I wanted to make sure I didn’t do it again.

  When a yawn escaped, I laid my head against my pillow, excited for tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to show Christina that I was a man of my word.

  After texting both Mac and Chance so they would stop acting like chicks, asking me for an update, I headed to the florist. I could have gotten Christina a bunch of roses from the grocery store, but for whatever reason, that seemed cheesy. It was stupid, I knew that much, but I was still going to a flower shop. I wanted that extra personal touch. And God knew I needed all the help I could get.

  When I walked inside, my senses were overwhelmed with the scent. I almost turned right back out the door I had come in but stopped when someone shouted, “Welcome in. I’ll be right out.”

  I’d literally never stepped foot in a flower shop in my entire life, so I had no idea what to expect. I’d naively thought that there would be maybe five flower types to choose from, but boy, was I wrong. Wandering around the refrigerated glass, I looked at all the water-filled buckets overflowing with various kinds of flowers. Some I recognized and some I had never seen before. With all the colors surrounding me, it looked like I’d stepped into a life-sized box of crayons.

  “Hi.” A middle-aged woman stepped out from the back, wiping her hands on a towel. “I’m Maggie.” She looked so happy to be here, surrounded by flowers as she greeted me.

  “Hi, Maggie. I’m Cole.”

  “What can I help you with today?”

  “Well, it’s my first time buying flowers for a girl,” I admitted, and she clasped her hands in front of her face in excitement.

  “Is this girl special?” she asked with a grin.

  “Very.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re looking for or want to get for her?”

  “I was thinking roses. Is that too cliché?” I asked, suddenly feeling ridiculously uneducated on the subject.

  “Honey, roses are never cliché.” She eyed me before walking away, and I realized that growing up with a mom, or at least some female inspiration, might have been helpful. “Come look at these.” She stopped in front of another glass case and opened it as I did as she’d asked.

  “Wow. They’re huge,” I said as she pulled a purple one out for me to hold. The actual flower itself was the size of my fist.

  “These are premium long-stemmed. They come in all kinds of colors. But you know, that each color means something different, so you don’t want to get the wrong one,” she said.

  I swore I felt myself starting to sweat even though the store was damn near freezing.

  “Um, Maggie?” I said, and she pulled her head from the case and looked at me. “I haven’t done this before. I have no idea what the colors mean or if I’d be messing up by getting my girl some of those really pretty yellow or pink ones,” I said, pointing at the giant blossoms, and she laughed.

  “You are sweet. And yeah, if you want to confuse her, those colors might do it.” She gave me a funny expression before she explained. “Yellow means friendship.”

  “Forget yellow. I never want to see another yellow rose again.”

  “And pink is more that you’re saying the person is sweet. Or you’re thanking them for something.”

  “That doesn’t sound romantic,” I said, feeling annoyed, and she laughed again.

  “You want romance, then you go with a classic,” she said, pulling out a deep red rose, and a flash of white caught my eye.

  “What about white?”

  “White roses signify new beginnings. Unity. Purity,” she continued talking, but I zoned out a little and stopped listening.

  “The red ones are really pretty, but I feel like everyone gets red. I’ve never seen anyone get white. And to be honest, Maggie, you had me at new beginnings,” I said, knowing that she would love that answer.

  “White it is. A whole dozen or half?”

  “Do I look like a half kind of guy to you?”

  She propped out her hip and said, “You look like a poor college student, so maybe.”

  “I’ll take a dozen. Make them pretty. I won’t get a second chance to do this right,” I directed, like I had any idea what the hell I was talking about.

  Maggie promised I wouldn’t be disappointed as I put the charge on my credit card and she went to work, cutting a bunch of green stuff she called filler.

  I typed out a text message to Christina, letting her know that I would be there soon and I hoped she was awake. She responded a few minutes later with a bunch of food emojis, and I laughed, thankful that she was as hungry as I was.

  “Okay, all done,” Maggie said with a satisfied grin as she handed me the most stunning bouquet I’d ever seen of white roses and a bunch of green shit.

  “This is a work of art,” I said, studying it.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I hope she does.”

  “She will. If she doesn’t, come back and let me know.”

  “No way. If she doesn’t like it, you’re definitely fired,” I said with half a grin, and she shook her head at me.

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved me off, and I walked out, suddenly fucking paranoid that I was overdoing it or trying too hard.

  Placing the roses on the passenger seat, I realized that I seemed to second-guess every single thing I did when it came to this girl. Nothing seemed good enough, and in the same vein, it also seemed like too much. I’d gotten used to screwing up so many times without even trying that I wasn’t sure I knew how to stop doing it.

  When I pulled up to the privacy gate in front of Christina’s complex, I typed in the numbers and laughed as the large thing swung open. Lauren must not have forced them to update the passcode yet. Driving around the lot nearest her building, I pulled my truck into a spot, grabbed the flowers, and hopped out.

  Instead of texting to let her know I was outside, I dialed the numbers on the security box and waited for one of the girls to grant me entrance. The buzzing sound came without even a hello or anything, and I reached for the glass door and pulled it open as soon as I heard it unlock.

  As I walked down the hallway, flowers in hand, my heart started racing in my chest. What if she hates the white? Should I have gotten her red? Everyone got red roses for a reason—because they were classic and classy. Blowing out a long, dramatic breath as I reached her front door, I lifted my hand and knocked, praying to whoever was up there that I wasn’t sweating through my shirt. I was more than just a little nervous. The door flew open, and the sight of Christina standing there in tiny jean shorts and an off-the-shoulder sweater almost knocked me on my ass.

  When her eyes moved to my right hand and her jaw fell
open, I remembered the roses and handed them to her with a smile. “These are for you.”

  “Wow.” She took them, turning them around so she could study them from every angle. “These are the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re so big,” she said and instantly buried her nose in the center of the bouquet and inhaled.

  “I did good?”

  “You did good.” She smiled before telling me to come inside and closing the door behind us. “I’m going to put these in water”—she stopped short—“I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I’m not sure we have a vase,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Wow, Hat Boy,” Lauren said, appearing out of nowhere and standing next to Christina in the kitchen, “I’m impressed.”

  “Picked ’em myself and everything.”

  “Did you?” Christina’s head shot up, her blue eyes meeting mine, and I gave her a confident smirk.

  “I did. You can even call Maggie and ask.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Who’s Maggie?”

  “The owner of the flower shop,” I said even though I wasn’t sure if she owned it or not. I just assumed she did.

  “You got these at an actual flower shop?” Lauren sounded shocked, and I knew I was scoring some serious brownie points. Which I desperately needed.

  “Nothing but the best for my girl,” I said the words a little too cocky.

  Christina gave Lauren a quick side-eye glance. I had no idea what it meant, but it took my confidence down a notch or two. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as seamless as I hoped.

  After some rustling and giggling, Christina presented the roses, sans paper, stuffed inside an oversize water bottle that you’d bring to the gym. “It was either this or go buy a thirty-two-ounce Big Gulp from 7-Eleven for the cup,” she said with a shrug as she set them down in the center of the kitchen table.

  “I didn’t even think about the vase part. I blame Maggie,” I said, and I did. Why didn’t I get her a vase instead of wrapping them in paper? Maggie should have told me—or at least mentioned that part.