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She wasn’t lying. In high school, I was the athlete and with that, came a fairly large social circle. Then, collegiate baseball brought a whole new social circle.
My parents had always expected me to go into some sort of career that my personality would work with. Bartending at O’Gallagher’s wasn’t exactly what they were thinking, but it paid well enough. It also gave me that social piece I craved, while giving me the occasional shift with the best friend who avoided me but pretended it was just a scheduling conflict.
So I bartended for the money, and coached for the joy, and never felt like I was truly working. Unlike Savannah’s mom, my parents were supportive with any direction I took.
I could remember the last panic attack Savannah had in my presence, and it had to do with a “wasted degree” and “unnecessary student loans.”
Her mother’s words, I’d never doubted.
While her mother was a Class A bitch, her dad was always the reason why I knew Savannah was safe in her house. If Jackson loved one thing in life, it was his daughter.
Which was why, after Conor O’Gallagher offered me a job at the bar he owned—his son Aiden was one of my Freshman baseball players and I met with all of my prospective players during their eighth grade year—I brought the idea of her working at the bar to Jackson.
Savannah may joke that I was the social one, but she was too. People loved her.
She was easy to talk to, and had a smile that lit up a room.
And she was really great at multitasking, something that made her a rockstar behind the pine bar top.
Knowing that my mind had gone off on a tangent, I finally answered Savannah’s comment. “Eh, it gave me some time to think.” Not a lie.
In six weeks, I replayed not only the last weeks over in my head, but I thought about every single misstep I took where Savannah was concerned. There had to be a reason why she was on the forefront of my mind when I was seconds away from telling another woman that I could see myself falling in love with her.
Actually, I knew the reason now.
Hell, I knew the reason then.
But not knowing where Savannah stood put hell on a guy’s ego.
Savannah went to her backpack and placed it on the ground before sitting in the old rocker. Taking her lead, I moved closer and sat at the end of the bed so that our toes nearly touched—and every time she rocked gently, our knees did touch.
“That’s why I came here,” she admitted. “To think.”
I recalled what she’d said earlier, and tried to get her to elaborate. “What’s crazy at home? You said life was crazy.”
She laughed and shook her head, but it looked forced. “Dude. You really need to watch the news.”
I wasn’t going to let her skirt whatever she was hiding with that again. “No, no. Not the world. You. You can think about a global pandemic at home. Why did you need to fly to the mountains?”
Her smile was tight as she shook her head, lifting the water bottle to her lips, ineffectively trying to stop the conversation by taking a drink of water.
When she was through, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “Why didn’t you win the show? All the tabloids say you were the shoo-in. Hell, TMZ even broke that they heard you did win.”
“Savannah.” It was getting more and more clear that she was hiding something.
“And I saw how she looked at you.” She nodded a few times and pointed the top of her water bottle in my direction. “Bella knew at least three weeks ago that you were her choice. Well...three episodes ago. However long ago that was.”
“You want to talk about Bella?”
She held her hands out to her sides. “Clearly. I want to know what happened!”
I stared at her, trying to read her expression.
Exasperated.
Maybe a little annoyed.
Confused.
