Chapter fourteen
Monty
“Let me get this straight,” Rafe huffs out as we run along the gravel path that circles Burnaby Lake, an urban park just outside of Vancouver. “She’s broken up with the idiot, kissed you, made it clear she’s interested in being more than friends, and you put the brakes on? Monty, you’ve got balls of steel.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” I say indignantly. “I’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer? I love her, like, really love her. And if I’ve finally got a shot at being with her, the last thing I want to do is rush it. She deserves the fucking world. You know that. And part of that is me giving her time to settle into a life without her ex in it.”
Rafe slows to a stop, his chest heaving with exertion. His hands go to his hips as he shakes his head at me. “You are one in a million, Dan Montgomery. Seriously.”
I duck my head, hoping I’m not blushing. He’s a good friend, someone I respect and just like as a person. I mean, you don’t spend as long as we did as a catcher-pitcher duo without bonding. So for him to say that? Means a lot.
“Thanks, old man. Now, are we running or are we out for alight jog?”
His eyes narrow, and I grin. I’m in for it. Sure enough, he puts on a burst of speed all of a sudden, passing me, and shouting “See ya, sucker” as he sprints away. I shake my head, content to let him think he’s got me for a few seconds.
But I can’t let him get too far ahead. Picking up my pace, I close the distance between us. Rafe hasn’t played for the Tridents in over a year, and while I know he keeps up a certain level of conditioning, he’s got nothing on those of us still actively playing.
Within a couple of minutes, I’m drawing up alongside him, and flash him another wide grin.
“What was that, Pops?”
He grunts, and I can tell he’s pushing himself to his limits to try and keep up. Taking pity on the old guy, I moderate my pace so we’re running more comfortably, side by side.
“Is this what I have to look forward to when I retire? What happened to the guy who could sprint the bases like the devil was chasing him?”
“He traded in multiple workouts a day for beer, sleeping in, and a good woman,” Rafe retorts.
His words hit the mark, whether he intended them to or not. I hold deep respect for Rafe’s choice. A couple of years ago, he found out he had a kid with a woman he’d loved a long time ago. They reunited, reconciled, and he chose to retire to spend time with his family.
Someday, I want to be where he is. Happy, in love, surrounded by family, and living the good life after many years of sacrificing for his career.
But not right now. I’m nowhere near retirement. If anything, my career is my number one focus, for a lot of reasons. And I’m not talking about my deep-rooted desire to see my team take the championship one day, even if that is a big one. I’ve got goals that can only be achieved by putting all of my energy and effort into being the best goddamn player I can be.
Which is a troubling thought alongside the possibility of a relationship with Lark.
I never bothered to think about whether or not I could juggle both. It seemed like it would never happen, so I didn’t let myself consider it.
Except now? It’s a very real possibility. And it’s overwhelming.
“Do you think you could have juggled your relationship with Imogen and Taylor, as well as your career, if you had wanted to keep playing?” I blurt out as we slow our pace, nearing the end of the ten-kilometer loop around the lake.
Rafe’s head turns my way for a second before he looks forward again. “You mean if I wasn’t already getting old and at the end of my career?”
“Yeah. Like, if you knew you had a bunch of good years playing ball left, do you think it’s possible to balance that with a relationship?”
“Lots of guys do.”
My mind darts back to last season, when one of our outfielders found out his wife wanted a divorce while we were on a stretch of away games. “Yeah, and lots of guys have relationships fall apart.”
“If you go into any relationship already thinking it could end,you’re fucked.”
He’s right, and I’m not a glass-half-empty kinda guy. Never have been. But I am trying to be realistic. I know my feelings for Lark are huge and could easily be all-consuming. I can’t imagine my life without her in it, and if I’m being honest, there’s not a chance in hell of me staying away from her if she truly wants to be with me as more than friends.
Which means, no matter what, I’ll find a way to balance it. Baseball and my career goals might be number one, but Lark has always been tied with my family for number two. And if there’s a chance I can have it all?
Game fucking on.
Back at my apartment after my run, I shower, get changed, and chug a protein shake. I missed a call from my mom, so after sitting down on my couch, I pull up their number to call her back.
