Page 32 of The Score We Never Settled

“Itoldyou to stop callin’ me that,” she seethes. “And consider it done?—”

“You used to love the prospect of marriage with me, Layla Jean.”

“I don’t anymore.”

“Is that your truth or your pride talkin’? You seem to get confused.”

She glowers up at me, and I swear to God, this woman can’t get enough of me. It’s not deception, and it may not be her blushing my way like she used to, but Layla adores me.

She just stopped admitting that to herself about two years ago.

“Definitely my truth,” she spits back spitefully. My little curly-haired woman seething so much that I’m surprised steam isn’t popping out of her ears right now. “I’ve told you this a million times, Briggs, we’re over. We’ve been over. You just won’t let me go.”

I lift my shoulders dismissively because she’s not lying. I am never going to let her go.

“You keep tellin’ me to play, Short Stop. I’ve been wantin’ to leave baseball for years, but you won’t let me retire.”

“Because youlikeit. You’re good at it. And I know you don’t want to come back here.”

“You’re here. I’d always come back for you.”

“But this is the first time you have in five years. The house you bought, you haven’t even set foot in it yet.”

“I was processing things,” I reply honestly. “And makin’ money for us?—”

“I didn’twantmoney, Briggs,” she rebukes, throwing her clutched fists toward the ground in a huff. “I wanted you. I wanted you, and I wanted you to trust me?—”

“I do trust you.”

“But you keep listenin’ to Cruz with everything he says?—”

“Because he won’t shut the fuck up about how he had you first over me. How he kissed you first. How hetouchedyou first, Layla Jean. You were supposed to be mine. That motherfucker knew I loved you, and he still played you like a fool. He wants to keep throwin’ jabs at me; he’s going to get a broken arm, a broken leg, a brokenheadif he keeps fuckin’ with me. I keep to myself when we play against each other, but he pushes me, Layla. He pushes me, and I don’t want to lose you. I really don’t. But I told you I couldn’t take you datin’ him, and you still did it. You still protected him, and I felt like I was losing you. It’s always you worryin’ abouthim, but what about me? What about you and me? You were always everything to me, but you always seem concerned when Cruz came crying to you like a bitch, just like he did tonight. You said two intentional hits, and you wouldn’t get pissed at me. I gave himfour, Short Stop. And if that doesn’t tell you how much I thought about what you said and how much I love you, I’m not entirely sure what will. We may need to crack your head open and experiment on it.”

She’s silent for a few moments, maybe allowing me to calm down, I don’t know. But it’s her next words that really get me.

The ones that still haunt both of us.

“But you said you did it so he couldn’t. And that concluded it for me. I was a conquest. Something you needed to win?—”

I regain some of the distance back, launching myself back into her orbit because there’s no fucking way I’m going to permit her to keep thinking that.

Both of my hands clutch her face, palming her soft cheeks between my palms as I tilt her head to look up at me.

“I didn’t win you, Layla, I needed you. I love you. You’re it for me, you always have been. I’ll leave the MLB right now if you want me to. Without us, we aren’t complete human beings. You beat for me the same way I beat for you. Our universes don’t rotate without the other’s. I need you to see that. Or there’s no way I’m stoppin’ at breakin’ another limb on Cruz Weston. I’ll kill him. And, that way, I know he’ll never get what was mine. Not him, Layla.”

“I think you’re more obsessed with him than anyone, Briggs.”

“Fuck, yeah, I am. I picture his death every day.”

She palms my hand and tries to lightly pry it away. “You need to stop that. You’re gonna to stroke yourself out?—”

“Tell me you love me, Short Stop. Don’t make me force it out of you.”

Her brows crash together, more defiance coming off her conscience, but I know, deep down, she can’t stand being with me.

We’ve been obsessed with each other since we were sixteen. For me, even longer.

My head drops, and that’s when I hear a small gasp leave Layla’s lips.