Page 49 of Maid of Dishonor

Could this happen? Could this actually—

“Aw, get a room, you two,” someone groans from behind us.

It’s as though a vat of icy water has been dumped over my head. I jump back, and only then do I realize how close to Carter I was standing. Only then do I realize that his hands had somehow found their way to my waist. We probably looked like we were about to kiss.

Another voice—Vance, our pitcher—chimes in before Carter or I can say anything. “Yeah, when are you guys gonna make it official? Buy a ring, tie the knot, til death do you part?”

My eyes fly to Carter, because I don’t know how to answer that. But Carter looks to be in even worse shape than I am; he’s frozen in shock. Slowly his eyes start to widen with what looks like raw panic, and his knuckles are white as his fists clench and unclench. He looks at me, seeming almost startled—like he can’t believe what just happened. Vance’s question, our conversation about wining and dining—something about it freaked him out.

I frown, intending to ask him if he’s okay, because he genuinely looks like he’s about to have a panic attack or something. He runs one hand through his hair. Does it again. And again.

And then he speaks before I can move, his jovial voice at odds with how tense he looks; I doubt any of the guys can hear how shaky it is. “Nah, man,” he says, backing further away from me. He forces a laugh. “Til death do us part? No way. Sam’s one of the guys.”

And everything just…falls away. It falls away rapidly and all at once, until my mind has emptied the dugout of everyone and everything but me and Carter.

But Vance’s eyebrows rise, and he speaks again. “Wait, really?”

My eyes snap to him, and I give a jerky nod. I don’t look at what Carter does; I don’t want to know.

“Oh.” Vance shoots a look at one of the other guys. “We all thought—huh.” He shrugs, and then he steps forward, toward me.

And there’s something new but unmistakable in his gaze: interest.

“In that case…see you at the pool party this weekend?” he says.

“Yeah,” I say automatically, my voice faint. I make my mouth smile, make it contort into the curve that feels so elusive I may never find it again. “Yeah. See you then.”

The dugout empties as the guys move on, and my body takes that as its cue to begin the tears. I try to stop them; I do. And I manage to pull it back, but there’s no way I can stop the moisture that pool in my eyes, no way I can prevent the lone tear track down my cheek. I duck my head as I grab my water bottle and protein bar from my spot on the bench.

But when I look up, my gaze falls on Carter. I can tell he sees the few tears I’m trying to hide, because his face falls, his eyes widening.

“Sam,” he begins, his voice hoarse. He steps forward toward me, his hand stretched out, poised to dry my tears. “Sam—”

“Don’t,” I say, stepping back and away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand falls limply to his side.

I take a deep breath. “You don’t have to see me as a woman worth dating, but don’t be a jerk about it,” I force out.

Carter’s stricken face just makes me feel worse. “Sam, I—”

“Stop.” I shake my head. “Stop. Just—don’t.” I inhale. Exhale. “Look, I’m just—I’m tired. And I’m in a bad mood. From the other team.” The excuses pour from my lips, and I welcome them gratefully. “I’m fine. I just need to chill. I’ll see you at the pool party on Saturday, okay?”

He’s silent for a second, his eyes swimming with regret. “Okay,” he says quietly.

And when I get to my car, I finally let myself cry.

* * *

When it rollsaround to Saturday, I’ve gone a full week without seeing Carter. Afull week.I’ve been avoiding him; I know it, and I’m sure he knows it. Maybe I’m being childish, but then again, maybe not.

Because thinking about him hurts. Thinking about what he saidhurts.Seeing him will just make it worse.

His words keep running around in my brain, replaying again and again. The panic on his face when Vance so much asmentionedCarter and I as a couple. His clenched fists.

He clearly has strong feelings about anything romantic between us, and they’re clearly negative. I thought we’d been having a moment—I thought we’d had afewmoments that were sort of encouraging—but those thoughts have been put to rest. So it’s time for me to get over Carter Ellis.

I mean, my heart is destroyed. And I’m not being dramatic when I say I’ll probably never love anyone else. But still. I’ve got to try.

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