Page 2 of Hiding in the Outfield

“Mr. Hotshot Actuary. Such a badass.”

“I’m very cool, I’ll have you know.”

“Total freak in the spreadsheets.” His grin is heavy in his words. “You may hide it well, but I know how hard you nerd. And I love that part of you.”

My heart swoops in my chest. It’s not something others besides my family have appreciated. Until Nick. He gets it because he nerds out over numbers just as much as I do. It’s amazing to finally be understood.

The elevator dings. “All right. I’m hanging up now. Love you, byeeee.”

“Don’t forget to video call me!”

I hang up with a laugh and stuff my phone back in my pocket. I bounce slightly on my toes. I am practically levitating with excitement. It took everything in me to keep this from Nick. We had a video call last night, and it took some real creativity on my part to hide the fact that I was in a hotel and not our apartment.

Thank God no one else is in the elevator. If I had to wait for multiple stops, I’d probably jump out of my skin. The elevator slows to a stop, and the door opens.

Go time.

I swipe my badge and push into the area our company occupies. I walk past the bathrooms and kitchen, then enter the offices and seating area. I scan the plaques on the wall. He should be the first office when I turn around the hall. It’s almost noon. I’m hoping we can go grab lunch if his work schedule allows for it too.

My attention locks on the office. I can’t quite make out the plaque, but the dark hair and the build of the man behind the desk are all Nick.

I slow because he has someone in his office with him. I guess I can just wait in the hall until he’s finished. Nick stands and walks around his desk, grabbing his jacket.

Dammit. This is not going to go as planned if he already has lunch plans.

I had checked his status on our work email, and he hadn’t blocked off lunch.

I pause a few yards from his door and shift on my feet. Maybe I’ll try again after⁠—

Nick leans down and kisses the woman.

I blink slowly. I couldn’t possibly have seen what I think I just saw.

Nick smiles at the petite blonde. Everything in me works in slow motion. My pulse putters at a snail’s pace, lungs drawing in air like a slow leak. My gaze sluggishly falls to her very pregnant stomach. Latches onto his hand resting on the side of her belly. Onto a ring finger that holds a gold band I’ve never seen before.

My insides seize. Twist. Someone is wringing out my heart like a wet cloth. My eyes lift to his.

Clash with his.

Those brown eyes go wide, swallowed by flaring pupils. Shock. Fear.

Caught.

He gives a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.

Not here.

Lucky for him, he gets his wish. He guides the pregnant woman out of his office and turns the opposite way down the hall. I couldn’t have said anything if I wanted to. Not without the rebelling contents of my stomach surfacing.

I stand there and watch them walk away. Feet incapable of moving. Body incapable of functioning.

They disappear, and my gaze drifts back to his office. To the pictures littering his desk. He doesn’t have frames on his desk in Providence. There’s one of him with that same blonde smiling at the camera, a sonogram in her hand. Oh God. I force my gaze to the next one. Nick in a black tux, her in a white dress, veil a blur around them as he dips her.

I spin on my heel and rush down the hall. Acid burns in my throat and my stomach lurches. I crash into the bathroom, toss the coffees in the garbage, and dive for the handicap stall.

I don’t even manage to get the door locked. I collapse in front of the toilet and lose whatever is left of my breakfast. My throat burns, pressure hammers against the backs of my eyes. My body convulses even as nothing else comes up. There’s nothing left.

I fumble blindly for my phone. Press call.