“I can’t risk it.”

“Risk what? Hitting me? Or loving me?”

“He killed her, Aspen. He killed her and she never admitted it, not even on her death bed.”

“I wouldn’t let anything happen. And I don’t think you would either. You didn’t do that to Danny. So you got in fights back in school. A lot of boys did. That doesn’t mean they will grow up to abuse their girlfriends.”

“Do you know what the statistics say? Have you even bothered to look? Kids who grow up in an abusive home are three times more likely to be abusive in an adult relationship. Three times.”

“But you’ve proven you’re not like that. Have you ever hit a girl? Have you even been in a fight since high school?”

“That’s not the point. There is no way to know if I’ll hurt a woman until I do. I’m not willing to let that happen. Not to anyone, but especially not to you.”

“Why especially not to me?”

I jump out of bed and pull on a pair of sweats. “I’m going to the basement.”

“To get away from me?” she asks.

“Nobody’s keeping you from going down there.”

“But you know I won’t.”

“I guess that’s your choice, then, isn’t it?”

I walk down the stairs, grab a bottle of water and head down to my workshop. A few minutes later, I hear Aspen playing the piano. I stop what I’m doing and listen. I always listen. I love to hear her play. It’s the only time my mind is truly at ease.

After a while, I look down at the template I’ve drawn. And for the first time, it’s not a butterfly. I realize what I’ve been drawing is Aspen’s hands on a set of piano keys.

Chapter Thirty-four

Aspen

“What the hell are they thinking?” I shriek into the phone.

I rarely call Sawyer when he’s on the road. We text sometimes to make plans. We email. But we never call. And I realize that even though he’s laughing at me right now, I like it. I like hearing his voice when he’s been away for a while.

“It’s been a week,” I cry. “One week. That’s not even enough time to pick wedding invitations let alone mail them. Did they go home that night and plan the entire thing in ten minutes? And two weeks from now. Are they crazy? Who has a three-week engagement?”

“Maybe she’s pregnant,” he says.

“She’s not. I asked.”

“You talked to him already?”

“Of course I talked to him. Why do you think my voice is so hoarse?”

He laughs. I’m sure he’s imagining me tearing into Bass. He thinks I’m stubborn. And a meddler. He thinks I’m a stubborn meddler. “Well, did he say why they’re doing it so quickly?” he asks.

“He claims it’s because of her parents. The ones who didn’t even come to Brooke’s Juilliard graduation. They will be in town for the next three weeks before they go cruising around the world on some multi-millionaire’s yacht for five months. So they insisted it happen before they leave.”

“What kind of father insists that his daughter have a short engagement just to fit into his schedule?”

“Exactly!” I yell. “See – even you understand that. Why not just push it out and be engaged for six months? Or a year, even? People can stay engaged indefinitely.”

“Maybe Brooke wants to make sure he doesn’t change his mind.”

I think about his words. And everything starts to make sense. Especially about how even Bass was surprised about the abbreviated engagement.

“Aspen?”

“I never thought of that,” I say. “But, oh my God, I bet you’re right.”

“You’ve always said she’s way more into him than he is into her.”

“It’s true. She is.”

“Well, there you have it.”

“He wants me to be his best man, or best woman, or whatever you call it when a girl stands up with a guy.”

“You didn’t turn him down, did you?”

“Of course not. He’s still my best friend. And even though I don’t agree with his choices, I’ll still be there for him. Oh, gosh – please say you’re in town on the fourteenth. I don’t want to have to go through that by myself.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I’ll be in town. But I hope it’s a night wedding because we play a double-header that day.”

I rifle through the ornate wedding envelopes to find the invitation. “It’s at six-thirty.”

“Good. Then I’ll be there. Just don’t expect much. Weddings aren’t really my thing.”

“Do you think he’s really going to do it?” I ask, ignoring his comment that was obviously directed at me. “I’m still not convinced he loves her. Why would he go through all the trouble?”

“Because the one he really wants is unattainable,” he says.

I snort into the phone. Then I let out a huge sigh. “Well then, I guess Bass and I have one more thing in common, don’t we?”

“Come on, Aspen. Don’t be like that. We’ve discussed this.”

“No. You’ve discussed it. You’ve unilaterally decided we can’t be more than friends based on a notion of something that will never happen.”

“Yeah, but what if we’re friends, who, you know—”

“Fuck?” I bite at him. “You want to fuck me, but you don’t want to love me?” I belt out a maniacal laugh. “Oh, that’s precious. And what will the press call us then?”

“Fiancés,” he says. “Just like now. It could work. We could just extend the contract.”

“Extend the contract?” I huff in anger. “You’re asking me to be your long-term fuck buddy? And you’ll pay me for it? To pretend for the sake of your career that we’re in love, which – news flash – we are, and despite the fact that we’re supposed to be, for appearances’ sake, you’re bound and determined to deny it in front of the only person who really matters. Oh my, I don’t think I’ve ever received a more romantic proposition.”

I realize my sarcasm is dripping through the phone, but at this point, I don’t really care.

“I’m not capable of more, Aspen.”

“Yes, you are. You’re just scared of more. You’re scared of me.”

“No. I’m scared of what I might do to you.”

“Then buy me a gun,” I say. “And if you touch me, I’ll shoot you in the leg.”

“It’s more than just physical hitting, you know. Abuse is emotional as well. Abuse is wearing someone down until they feel they are nothing and no one without the abuser. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Yes. I do. And you deserve to not live your life in fear of love, missing out on one of the greatest things in life.”

He sighs into the phone. There’s a lot of sighing going on in this conversation. I guess he thinks there’s really not much more he can say that hasn’t already been said.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I know we’re not going to settle anything when you’re a thousand miles away. I just called because I was surprised and upset by the invitation.”

“Things have already been settled.”

“Sawyer …”

“Aspen …”

I expect him to make an excuse to hang up the phone. But he doesn’t. I hear him breathing. I hear him thinking. He wants to stay on the phone with me.

Things have most definitely not been settled. Not by a long shot.

“Where is the wedding?” he asks. “I’m sure all the best places have been taken.”

“The ceremony will be at her parents’ church on Long Island. The reception will be at their house. They already planned the honeymoon and everything. Do you know her parents bought them a two-week trip to Hawaii? Paid for it all in advance. They can’t even go for six months since Bass is just starting his new job next week. Can you believe that?”

“Must be nice to have rich parents.”

“No thank you,” I say. “I’d rather have had only nineteen years with parents who loved me to the ends of the earth than parents who could buy it for me.”

“You were lucky to have them.”

“I know,” I say. “I know that now more than ever.”

“I have to go. I need to report to pre-game in thirty minutes.”

“Good luck today, Speed Limit. Steal a base for me, okay?”

“How about I steal two?”

I stare at my phone long after the call disconnects, knowing the man on the other end of the line has stolen a lot more than just bases for me. He’s stolen my heart.

And I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.

Chapter Thirty-five

Sawyer

Entering the dugout before our first game, I think about how today is going to be a long day. Two games and then Bass’s wedding. I can’t help but dread it a little – the thought of attending a wedding with Aspen. Weddings make girls get all mushy and emotional. As if she hasn’t been already.

She’s tried for weeks to get me to change my mind about us. It’s no use. No way in hell would I ever put her in danger. And being with me is exactly that. Dangerous.

I, on the other hand, have tried to talk her into extending our contract beyond the season. In a little over a month, the season will be done. We’ll be done. I’m not ready for that. But I’m also not willing to do what she wants – have a real relationship.

The contract makes things safer for everyone. I don’t get why she won’t agree. She still gets me. She gets me for as long as she wants to extend the contract. She gets me for as long as she’s willing to keep things the way they are now.

Why do women always need more?

I look out into the stands, up to where she normally sits, wondering if she’s even going to come today. It’s Bass’s wedding day. Maybe she’s hanging out with him doing ‘best man’ duties or whatever.