Page 94 of Turn Me On
I heave a sigh, then settle next to him on the couch as Eliza’s lashes begin to flutter. “Look. I’m doing my best to be chill with working with him, and I’m doing a fine job. No need to push it by going to a party.”
“Fair enough. Just wanted to make sure you were being honest about it.”
“I am.” I don’t need to tell Gage the full truth—I don’t trust myself to see Maddox tonight. One look and I’ll stupidly blurt out all my messy feelings. I’m still too raw, too vulnerable. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do—did. The way Ididfor him. “My food should be here soon. You want to stay in and watch a movie with me when she crashes?” I gesture to Eliza. Her head is bobbing as her eyes start to fall closed.
Gage hums. “If that’s what you really want to do.”
“It really is.”
He scoffs in my direction and rolls his eyes. “If you say so.”
I tilt my head. “Well, what do you think I really want to do?”
Without hesitation, he answers me. “You want to go. You like agency parties, Zane. Dinner, drinks, the whole chit chat after. You enjoy being in the spotlight. And you’ve earned it—it’s one of the perks of being a major league ballplayer. And I think if this guy is your agent, for better or for worse, it’s good to be able to deal with him.”
My brother is too wise. But I’m a wily one when I need to be. “Wrong. I’m perfectly content right here with you and Eliza.”
“Perfectly content,” he imitates me. “That’s real convincing.”
“Perfectly content,” I repeat, digging my heels in.
Gage sears me with a most brotherly stare. “Maybe aim a little higher than content?”
“Like what?” I toss back.
“How about, oh, I don’t know…happy?”
All my fight evaporates. I slump deeper onto the couch. “I don’t know what to do,” I mutter. Will seeing the guy I can’t have make me happy? Or simply remind me how sad I am?
Gage pats my shoulder affectionately. “Is this like when you couldn’t decide between Cinnamon Life cereal or eggs for breakfast when we were kids, and you asked me to pick?”
I laugh briefly at the fond memory. “You always picked eggs because they were good for me.”
“But sometimes I picked both,” Gage points out.
“Those were good days,” I say.
“I have good instincts,” Gage says, with a happy sigh. “But I’m not going to pick for you. You have unfinished business with the guy. You don’t like unfinished business. This isn’t a choice between breakfast foods.”
Ah, hell. He’s right. And I’m not the kind of man who avoids hard conversations or uncomfortable moments. I sit up, trying to untangle the questions tripping through my head.
What do I want to finish? Getting over Maddox? Proving to myself I can handle seeing him? Maybe seeing how I feel just being near him?
All of the above?
I don’t entirely know, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge, and I won’t now.
I pop off the couch. “Stop being so right about everything,” I grumble, then head to the bathroom. I clean up, then change into something sharp and stylish, picking trim brown slacks and a dark green shirt that’s all kinds of snug in the arms. I roll up the cuffs, showing off my daiquiri tattoo. No matter what happens, I want to look good.
For him.
But mostly for me. This is who I am. A guy who shows up. A guy who doesn’t hide. A man who strides up to the plate for every single at-bat and puts his heart and soul into every goddamn swing.
As I look in the mirror and consider my clothes, I know what my unfinished business is.
I’m going to tell Maddox exactly why New York hurt me, and then I’ll let it go so I can move the hell on.
I head to the bed and softly kiss the sleeping sweetie’s forehead. “Night, slugger,” I whisper to Eliza.