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34
This was the first time Corey walked up to this red door with any level of confidence. Each time he’d come to Taran’s place before, he’d been pissed off, confused, or desperate, but this time he knew he and Taran were on the same page. That fact settled every molecule in his body.
Plus, he had a two-week home stretch, and she’d be in Jersey too. She’d even said her next feature didn’t require travel, so he’d put in to stay home for the Metros’ road trips where he wouldn’t be pitching. No one questioned it. His pitching was on fire. If he kept up his pattern through August and September, no one had any doubt that it would be a Cy Young season.
Corey couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so settled in himself.
He knocked a second time and had to chuckle. Some things, he guessed, would never change, and Taran answering her door without him having to repeatedly beat on the thing must be one of them.
The door finally swung open, and he smiled, enjoying how her hair was falling out of the messy bun on the top of her head. Her cutoffs and T-shirt assured him she’d be fine with his plan to stay in tonight.
“Is it Saturday already?” she asked and glanced around, almost like she wasn’t sure where she was. But she did move back and wave him in, shutting the door behind them. He tucked the black lock hanging in her eye behind her ear.
“Chipmunk, you okay?” he asked and felt another prick of alarm when she didn’t react to the nickname; instead, she just leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her. “What’s going on?”
She sighed and shook her head against his T-shirt. He worried that she might not open up.
“It’s been a long few days. I have an article I don’t know how to write, and I haven’t posted a blog this week. And even though I flew home early, I don’t know if I’ll have Edgar’s feature finalized by tomorrow.” The words flew out of her mouth so fast he hardly caught them all. So much for his concern that she wouldn’t talk. She barely took a breath as she continued her out-of-character word vomit. “It’s due for edits tomorrow because they need to know how to format it. And I don’t want to do the next month’s, but I don’t have a choice, and Edgar offered me a job, but I—”
His heart skipped a beat. Taran wasn’t telling him she was moving, was she?
“Wait—job? In Guatemala?”
“No. Here, well, I don’t know. It could be anywhere I want it, I guess. It’s for Schools First.”
She continued her rambling about how she couldn’t do the job, and he relaxed, having no idea what she was talking about except that she would be in New Jersey.
“Hey.” He tipped her chin up to look at him. “Hey. Look at me.”
Her eyes were wide, almost panicked.
“You do not have to take a job you don’t want.”
“I know.” Her jaw locked.
He searched her expression, feeling like there was a bigger problem he was missing, but he couldn’t get a read on her. Everything about this exchange seemed so out of character for the normally mellow woman.
The need to fix things for her pulsed through his system. “Let me help you. Do you have a draft of the Edgar thing?” he asked, and she nodded. “How about I have Microsoft Word read it to me, and I can give you my thoughts? It’s probably better than you think, and I will get an idea about this job offer if I know what Schools First is.”
“That would be great.” She blinked, and it seemed like a fog cleared, but her entire body tensed. “Wait, did I forget I was supposed to make us dinner? Shoot.” She pushed away from him, her whole body tight.
He crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels as she brushed her bangs out of her face.
“I’m sure I can throw something together.” She blinked rapidly before looking toward the kitchen and then back at him.
“Taran.” Corey tried to keep his voice calm, but he was worried. “We didn’t talk about dinner, and you weren’t supposed to cook. I thought we’d do takeout.”
“Oh good.” Taran slumped. “I wasn’t sure what I had. But takeout is easy. My computer is over there. I was working on edits, so Edgar’s article should already be open. Do you need me to help you set up the read aloud?”
“No, I’m used to it.” He searched the room until his eyes landed on her laptop sitting on a small desk. Next to her desk was another one of those tiny cute chairs that made him question his ability to sit on it safely, but as worked up as Taran was, he wasn’t going to ask for a different one.
“You feel like anything specific?” Taran asked after he carefully placed his weight in the tiny wooden chair.
“Whatever you want, chipmunk. I’ll even pretend I’m a deer and eat leaves if you want that weird place again.” His hackles rose even more when she didn’t respond to his teasing about the vegan salad restaurant she loved.
She was way off today, and that scared him. There was something almost familiar about her mood, but he couldn’t piece together why it seemed that way because she’d never acted like this before.
He shook his head and turned his attention to the computer.
