Page 12 of Finally Home

I suggested couples therapy several times, but he’d take offense and rant about not needing strangers to tell him how to be a husband, then he’d storm off to the nearest bar. Looking back, there were obvious signs he was cheating, but I chose to ignore them because I didn’t want to lose another important person in my life. But as I sit here in Rhodes’s SUV, I realize that Derrick was never really someone I couldn’t live without.

The important people are here in Charleston and some are back in Seattle, and the latter are blowing up my phone asking for pictures and telling me all the things they want to do when they visit. I feel more settled and safer in this SUV than I ever did in that cold, clinical apartment.

I let out a startled squeak when something soft smacks me in the face, and my hands karate chop it down onto the seat, my eyes narrowing when Rhodes’s deep laugh echoes through the small space.

“Sorry, Starling.” He quirks his lips and boops me on the nose with a long finger. “You went all space cadet on me and I couldn’t resist. Now hurry up and put on the hoodie or we’re going to be late.”

Finally, I look at the item in my hands. I unfold it and gasp. “You didn’t.”

His expression turns into a full-blown smile. “Are you kidding? I’ve worn that thing every single game day since freshman year when you first gave it to me. It’s never failed to keep me grounded whenever I got nervous or felt like I didn’t deserve it.” He trails off.

My eyes feel hot, but I don’t let the tears fall. Right around the time Rhodes was being seriously scouted during our freshman year, we were in his room watching a Raptors game when he had an anxiety attack seemingly out of nowhere. When he was finally calm enough to talk, he broke down in tears and confessed he had been having them often because he was terrified that he would let everyone down.

He said that the pressure was getting to him, and he was so afraid to fail, he couldn’t eat or sleep some nights. I spent the rest of that evening running my fingers through his hair while he dozed with his head in my lap, trying to figure out how to make him feel better.

The next morning, while he was putting on his sweatshirt, and idea hit me, and several hours, one bribe to a senior design student, and two specialty sports shops later, I gave Rho his very own ‘Wren luck charm.’

I’m breathless as I sit in Rhodes’s fancy SUV and take in the same sweatshirt I gave him so many years ago when we were just kids. I brush my fingers over the logo in awe.

“How does it still look this good all these years later?”

The tips of his ears redden, and I cock an eyebrow at him, slip my hoodie off and replace it with the giant one in my hands. I only have on a bralette underneath, but my bikinis cover less, and he’s seen me in those plenty of times over the years. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

And it isn’t. Until I look up and see the banked heat in his hazel eyes as his gaze locks on my chest.

Forget breathless, the desire in his eyes has my heart stopping altogether.

I must make some sort of noise because the color drains from his face. He looks out the windshield, taps his fingers on the steering wheel, and clears his throat.

“Well…I… uh…replaced it?” His voice cracks on the last word and he snorts. “Fuck, that sounded bad. What I mean is, I wore the hoodie you gave me to every single game for eight years even when it started to get too small. It finally fell apart last year so I took it to like…three different shops until I found one that could replicate the exact hoodie and design. They had to cut it up, so I took the pieces to my mom and she’s keeping them for me until I figure out what to do with them.”

I’m stunned silent for a minute until the color returns to his face and embarrassment turns the tips of his ears bright red.

“Rho…you really did all that just for one hoodie I gave you our freshman year?” My voice is incredulous, but my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest with glee as my eighteen-year-old self does a happy dance.

It doesn’t mean anything. You’re just friends.

The problem is my feelings for Rhodes Gray have always been…more. I thought getting married and moving across the country would take away everything I shoved down sophomore year. But if anything, they’re back and stronger than ever. Being surrounded by his warmth and unwavering support is bringing up so many things I thought I buried.

He scoffs and hops out of the SUV before rounding the hood to open my door. “Do you really not know how much that meant to me, Starling? I was drowning and you went out of your way to throw me a life preserver. You gave me a way to always feel connected to home—to you—no matter where in the world I ended up. That hoodie isn’t just anything, Wren. It’s everything to me. My most prized possession. My personal good luck charm.”

I smile softly. Rhodes hooks his arm around my neck and leads us into the building, planting a kiss on the top of my head as he pulls the door open.

It takes me an embarrassingly long time to get myself together, but by the time we reach the upper-level offices, I’m back to poking fun at Rho even as I stare in awe at the state-of-the-art facilities.

“Well, who do we have here?” A booming voice startles me back into Rho’s chest. Standing in front of us is a man I would know anywhere. At a bit less six feet tall, he’s a only few inches taller than me with rich, dark skin, and a clean-shaven head.

“Benny!” I shriek, springing up onto my toes to hug him.

His chuckle is so deep, it practically rattles my bones as he picks me up in a spin that makes me dizzy. “Is that our unofficial mascot, Wren Reid? How you been, darlin’? Streaks here hasn’t shut up about missin’ you in the three years I’ve been wrangling these heathens.” He leans in with a conspiratorial wink and says, “Between you and me, I was ready to trade him just to get a break from all the whining.”

I stumble back dizzily when Benny puts me down. When the room stops spinning, I turn to see Rhodes with an embarrassed smile on his face as he rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“Will you quit it, Coach? Damn. You would think after thirty years in the game, you’d have some couth. Or at the very least, protect your players.” His tone is exasperated, but affection shines in his eyes as he greets the man.

Don Bennett, or “Benny” as we call him, was the baseball coach at our college and has been friends with my dad for a long time. I’ve known him since I was a little girl, and I’m sure it surprised him when I started hanging out at the stadium and training facilities with Rho and the guys all the time, but he also got a front row seat to my friendship with Rhodes and knows how close we are.

Benny laughs and gives me a genuine smile. “You stick with me, kiddo, and you’ll know more than you ever wanted to about this team.”

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