Made to be His ( The Archer Family 1)

His friend sank deeper into the pillows and yawned. "Yeah, that's what she said, too. I'll give it about a week before you go crawling back to her again. I mean seriously, where else are you going to find a woman who has that much sports knowledge and such a charming family? If you're still having trouble, I'll go ahead and refer you to my previous comment on cutting the bullshit."

Logan laughed, but it was hollow. So apparently the seriousness was short-lived, but that was kind of a relief in itself. Matt had taken everything better than he'd expected. Hell, better than almost anyone on the planet would have in his position.

But what did that mean for Andy?

Even if he could get past all of his demons with Matt, that certainly didn't mean Andy would be willing to forgive him.

"Speaking of Andy, don't you have to see her tonight? I heard there is quite the shindig on the opposite end of town." Matt pretended to close his eyes, but he wasn't skilled enough to hide the fact that he was staring at Logan from the corner of his view.

Shit.

The sports gala. In all of his haste to talk to Matt, Logan had totally forgotten. He'd told Andy he was going to take her.

His heart beat hard in his throat, and he glanced at the clock. Double shit. The event started in an hour.

But what did it matter? Andy had her ticket; she probably wasn't expecting him to take her. Maybe if he stopped at her house, he could make it in time to catch her before she left, but it was almost impossible to tell at this point.

He'd just have to cross his fingers and hope.

At the end of all of this, though, one thing was certain.

Starting now, he was going to be a new man. Matt was fine.

And Andy?

She was going to be fine, too. He'd make sure of it, no matter what it took.

* * *

She was dressed. The gauzy black of her cocktail dress itched against her thighs and she struggled to breathe in the corset top.

Her hair was done. Ringlets circled the tidy bun on top of her head and framed her face.

Hell, she'd even put on makeup. Not even just eyeliner and a swab of eye shadow, either. She’d contoured. She’d done all the things girls in make-up tutorials said you were supposed to.

But when she got behind the wheel and headed downtown, it wasn't long before she found herself driving in the wrong direction.

What if Logan was there? It was important for him, the one chance he had to bring his fame back to super star status. But being in the same room with him? Watching as women threw themselves at his feet?

That wasn't anything she could imagine witting through, no matter what she was wearing.

The sun set behind her, and by the time she got there, all of the lights were on full shine in the parking lot. So much the better.

After climbing from the car, she followed the way he'd taught her, snaking around the spindles and alleyways until she was inside the empty stadium again.

And it wasn't until she was there, staring at row upon row of empty seats, that she realized a part of her had expected to see him here, laying on the pitcher's mound like they'd done that night and thinking over all the different ways things had gone horribly, terribly wrong.

She let out a deep sigh, and along with the breath, the last shreds of her hopes eked out. She'd let him do this to her again. Let him get up her hopes and tear them apart in front of her. Except this time, there was no possible misunderstanding. His words had been clear as day.

So clear that she hadn't stopped repeating them since the moment he'd said them.

What did it matter what Matt or Shay said? What did it matter what her feeble mind argued? The truth was right there in front of her.

Everything was gone. And she, alone, was left.

She walked down the long rows of stairs, then kicked off her heels before climbing onto the field. Instead of sitting in the center of the action this time, she huddled in the dugout, puffy black dress and all, and sat down.

What an idiot.