The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

If given the chance, I’ll love her better than I did, wholly and unconditionally, the way she loved me. I thought I had loved her right, but I must have missed something because she didn’t hesitate long enough, and she didn’t walk, she ran away.

I never wanted to be one thing, anyway. I don’t want to be a fast definition.

Ballplayer, rancher, fighter…I can switch hats to whatever she needs because I want her back in my life.

With every light tap of my sneaker to concrete, I try to convince myself this isn’t a manic attempt to escape my reality back home.

I need this.

I need this.

My phone rattles in my hoodie as I stop a few feet from my hotel. I assume it’s Tony wanting to get some training time in. He’s already managed to arrange a few hours at a gym later tonight.

Harper: Just woke up. Ready to see the city?

Lance: I’ve already run the whole thing, but I’m happy to browse more.

Harper: Show off.

Lance: Early bird gets the worm.

Harper: I couldn’t give a shit. The worm is all yours.

Lance: I see we’re still a pleasant morning person.

Harper: I just punched René in the throat for using the rest of my peppermint creamer. You might want to give me an hour and another cup. Don’t take any chances, save yourself the sore throat.

Lance: An hour. Got it.

Harper: Did you see the statue?

Lance: You mean that small ass action figure off the harbor? Seriously, a lot smaller than they make it out to be.

Harper: That’s what she said.

Lance: Aww, look, sweetheart, you made a joke even in your wretched state. I’m guessing you’re happy someone is in town.

Harper: Yeah, I heard Lucas Walker is staying at the Four Seasons for his press junket.

Lance: You’re an asshole.

Harper: Happy face and hands emoji

Lance: Eye roll emoji. See you in an hour.

Harper

I’m nervous in a stage fright way. Less than twenty-four hours in and I’ve already lied to Lance. I threw up in the shower due to nerves. I’m not in a bad mood, I’m terrified. What if René’s right? What if he’s here because he wants me back, or worse, what if he doesn’t?

I’ve barely slept. I can’t stop thinking about how amazing it felt to be on the receiving end of his attention, in his arms. I haven’t forgotten how thoroughly I got wrapped up in him when we were together, of how certain I was, of how much I trusted him, in us. And now? Now I’m a girl whose once sure steps are unsteady.

“Chill out,” I scold myself, brushing my teeth for the fifth time in an hour. I can’t sit still. I can’t stop fidgeting. Why is he in New York?

“Mami, door.”

“I’m coming.” I gloss my lips and do a final once-over in the mirror. Hair down, beanie, sweater, jeans, and short boots. It’s my go-to girls’ night outfit, and René approved. When I get to the living room, René is in a silent stare-off with Lance, who’s politely making small talk.

“…ju ever lost?”