“No. Stop apologizing.” I pause for a second, only to debate what to say. Though I’m scared it will send him spiraling, I need to make sure he got the message from his coach. “Your father has something planned. I don’t know what it is. But he wants to ruin your career in a very public way.”
“I know. He arranged it.” Carter waves his hand around, his eyes scanning the stadium. “He did all of it. He’s the reason the team wanted me. The reason they signed me not knowing if I’d ever pitch again. I should’ve known a washed-up player who’d just had surgery doesn’t get deals like that, not without a price.”
I turn on the bench to look fully at him. “I might not know baseball, but I know the man I’ve seen on this field isn’t a washed-up player. He’s a man who was given an opportunity to prove he’s a great pitcher, despite just having surgery. Cash really thought you wouldn’t show him up, but you came back even stronger, because that’s who you are. I know that and he knows that. And it’s the reason he’s resorting to dirty plays to get what he wants, because he can’t do it fairly.”
Carter remains silent for a few seconds before saying, “How do I get through a game knowing I’m only here because of him?”
“He might be the reason you came here, but it’s your choice to stay. And it’s your choice to call the pitches. It’s up to you how you play, and how you walk off the field, and what you do behind closed doors afterwards. He might be the asshole who pulled the strings to get you out on this field, but he can’t make you something you’re not.”
His head falls back, his eyes closing as he rubs his hands over his face. “I can’t quit. But I can’t finish this season out knowing it was him. I don’t know what to do.”
“You show up. You take it one game at a time. You do what you’re trained to do. Put him out of your mind, and do it for you, not him.”
“You can’t use my words against me.” Carter lets out a slight laugh that brings me a heaping amount of relief.
“That’s not in my rule book.” I return the light tone, hoping he can begin to chip away at unloading the demons he’s carried with him for so long as he glances around the field. “So, here’s another reminder of your words. What’s most important to you?”
His eyes search mine, giving me a puzzled expression.
“To be on the mound,” I remind him. “That’s what you wanted. That was your goal. To play. Don’t let him take away your dream.”
Reaching over, Carter grips my sides, half lifting, half pulling me onto his lap to straddle him. His palms smooth up the bare skin of my thighs as his hands slip under my dress, squeezing my legs before he removes one to cup my cheek. He leans in for a kiss, feathering his lips over mine. “Dreams change.”
I don’t want to examine his words or take away from the moment as he kisses me, making another memory for the both of us.
39
CARTER
This is the first time I’ve ever been suspended. And while the reasoning bothers me, I’m not complaining about the unorthodox break. Because even with the sun peeking through the windows and Avery’s nude body draped over mine, I know I won’t have to let her go to get to the field. I can also hide away from what I don’t want to face for a while longer. Because as much as I hear Dundee’s encouragement and believe Avery’s words, I still feel my father’s grip.
My hand glides up her back as she nestles closer, letting out a sigh. “I have to start getting ready.”
“Sunday Whitlock family lunch?” I ask already knowing it’s an inflexible part of her day but one I finally can be a part of instead of watching her and Bodie head off without me. “Mind if I join? Not that it matters since I have an open invitation from your mom and all.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She playfully slaps my chest as she moves to roll off of me.
Grasping her wrist, I pull her flush to my chest. “Are we good, Avery?”
A grin covers her face as she says, “I am. And you’d better be after that blow.”
Her sexy look tangles up with the memories of us last night, ensuring she’s not using the term in a sports-related context. And I can’t stop looking at her gorgeous, teasing smile.
“I’ll have to tell Coach you give way better blows than he does.”
Her hand slaps against my chest, harder this time, her eyes widening in shock. “You’d better not, Carter.”