Best Laid Plans

“Yes. Wanted.”

He grunts, lifting. “Dude. She probably feels like a piece of meat.”

More like the other way around. “I think I was pretty clear.”

“You’re pretty sure you were ‘pretty clear’?” He finishes his set and sits up. “As in, you said you’re in love with her?”

“Hell no,” I answer defensively.

He furrows his brow like he’s deep in thought. “Did you, by any chance, say you were crazy for her?”

“No way.” But now he has me wondering if I totally botched my plans to lay it on the line.

He taps his chin. “Wait. Wait. Did you say, ‘I have no brains’?”

I sigh heavily. “All right. Spit it out. What should I have said?”

He doesn’t answer because a dark-haired guy with a swirl of sunburst tats up his left arm strides over to us. “Hey there. Any chance one of you can spot me? I’d appreciate it.”

“Go for it.” Shaw moves behind him, and the guy starts lifting, using more weights than either of us. “Damn. You training hard for a fight, bro?”

The guy laughs, barely breaking a sweat as he lifts. “Nah, my fighting days are behind me. I’m turning over a new leaf as a pacifist.”

Shaw arches a brow. “For real?”

“I’m kidding. Well, I’m all for world peace. But no, I just need to stay in shape for work. I’m starting a new job in a few days.”

“Lifting heavy shit?”

“Bodies. Very heavy bodies sometimes,” he says, playing up the spooky card, as he raises the bar. Then, he’s pure deadpan as he answers. “I’m a paramedic. And sometimes the bodies are quite heavy.”

I look at Shaw knowingly then say, “Welcome to the club. Well, we’re at the local firehouse, so we’ll be seeing you around.”

“No shit?” He sets down the bar, wipes his palms against each other, and offers a hand to shake. “Good to meet you. I’m Derek McBride. Just moved here from San Francisco. Some other guy is heading back home, right?”

Shaw answers, “Yeah, that’s Charlie. Friend of ours.”

“Sorry to hear he had to go, then. It’s never fun when a good bud moves away.”

“So are we,” I say, then make the official intros to Shaw and myself. “But let us know if you need anything. Rescue workers—we look out for each other, right?” I knock fists with Shaw, then the new guy.

“Amen to that.” Derek scratches his jaw. “Speaking of, I’ve been looking for a place to stay. It’s getting crowded as hell where I am right now. Couches are the worst.”

“The absolute worst,” Shaw echoes.

“And finding a decent rental in this town is harder than tracking down a beer for less than $5. Do you happen to know anyone in town who has a place to rent?”

Shaw grins. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll hook you up. And you’ll find cheap beers at The Barking Pug. Awesome dive bar off the main drag.”

“Dive bars are the best kind.”

Shaw grabs me by the shoulders, then speaks to Derek in a deliberately leading-the-witness voice. “Also, don’t you think Gabe should tell the woman he loves how he truly feels about her?”

Derek grins. “Always. Always let the woman know how you feel.”

He gives a quick wave then takes off.

When we finish working out, Shaw punches my shoulder. “And you, dipshit, think about what I said. Think about whether you said all you needed to say to her.”

As if I can think about anything else.

As I head home, I replay that last night at her house.

My questions.

What if we tried to be more than friends? To date. Go out.

At the time, my meaning seemed patently clear. But now, with a few days’ perspective, was it?

I flash back to my year in the majors, and it feels like déjà vu. Was I simply warming up in the bull pen with Arden? Rather than going full tilt in a game with a pennant on the line?

More importantly, what if Shaw is right?

Later, I head over to see the one person who tells it like it is. I’ll never sort it out for myself, and I can’t let this uncertainty go on a moment longer.





42





Arden





Empirically, he’s good-looking.

But as the handsome man strides toward me, all I can think about is the man I want to be playing Fifty Shades of Everything with.

Not this guy. And if he asks me out again, I’ll turn him down like a big girl this time. Using my words.

Only . . .

He doesn’t look at me. He’s looking elsewhere. He breezes right past me. Like he doesn’t even see me.

He says, “Hello,” and then the next words out of his mouth shock me. “You must be Darla.”

What the what?

I whip around as Mr. Businessman meets Darla in front of the coffee shop next to A New Chapter. Darla takes his hand and shakes it.

“So great to meet you. I’m Hank,” he says. “Vince told me you were pretty, but you’re even prettier in person.”

Who the heck is Vince?

She laughs, a pretty tinkling sound. “And you’re a perfect gentleman, but that’s exactly what my cousin told me.”

Okay, this Vince fellow is Darla’s cousin, and he must have set them up on a blind date.

“He’s a good friend. Plus, I paid him. No, just kidding.” Hank the businessman hooks his thumb first toward the coffee shop then down the street. “I like coffee, but there’s a great ice cream shop around the corner that has birthday cake and blueberry ice cream this month. Any chance you want to go there instead?”

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

I slink against the wall like I can blend into it, but they’re only looking at each other as Hank, the man who wanted to date me, and Darla, the woman who dated Gabe, head to an ice cream shop to eat my favorite flavor.

They’re living their lives. Enjoying themselves together as they get to know each other. This feels like karma, only I’m not sure what to make of it. Is this a sign that I need to live my life? But which version of it?

I shake my head, trying to understand why I feel anything about these two people I hardly know.

Especially jealousy.

I’m a little jealous they’re dating.