Page 66 of Passed Ball

"Everyone has baggage," Poppy adds. "Hendrix and I both have trust issues. When you find the right person, getting over those issues is more important."

"The dates I went on before I met Dean were abysmal. We were only supposed to be a winter fling," Mia says.

Defensiveness rears its ugly head, and I want to tell them that's not how it is.

For a moment, guilt flickers and I feel like an asshole for using Xavier, but I shove it aside. He wants this as much as I do. That's why we set the rules and agreed on boundaries in the first place.

Thankfully, before I can dwell on it for too long, the chatter switches to planning Poppy's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Which she insists I come to regardless of how long this situationship with Xavier lasts.

Chapter 29

Xavier

After beating Phoenix, the guys and I agreed to meet in the lobby for a late dinner and, not shockingly, I was the first one down here. I look from the blank screen for the fourth time as my teammates exit the elevator with big, dumb smiles plastered to their faces. I immediately want to punch them.

I know what gave them those dopey looks: they talked to their girls. And I didn't, because technically Vivi is not mine, and that fact gnaws at me, souring the contents of my stomach.

I should have called her, but we talked briefly this morning and I didn't want to seem clingy.

Instead, I'm staring at the lock screen on my phone, willing it to ring. It's the picture Tenley snapped at the game the other day. Holland and I are centered, with Vivi standing at my side, looking down and smiling at my daughter. Her smile is so fucking bright and real, it intensifies the urge to call the woman I can't get out of my head.

Hendrix walks up first, stopping in front of me and pausing my fixation on the picture that has me completely fucked in the head.

"Why don't you ever call me?" I grumble.

"I'm sorry . . ." he draws out, his forehead creasing.

"Do better, man," I say as Dean stops next to him and my attention switches to him. "You too. Would it kill you to pick up the phone once in a while?"

"Yes." There's not a hint of sarcasm in Dean's voice.

"I'll call you, bud. What do you fancy? Good morning, beautiful? Or . . ." Dom taps his chin. "You seem like the kind that prefers a good night call."

"Nope," I say, turning away and leading the four of them into the restaurant.

A sly grin takes over the golden boy's face, and I know I'm going to hate whatever Dom says next. "So fickle. It can only mean one thing: you're all fucked up over Vivienne Cardoza. Don't worry, I can help."

"Say's the man who spent a year pining after a woman that wanted nothing to do with him." I scoff.

Cruz joins us as we make our way to a quiet booth at the back of the bar. "There's no one better to give you advice if you really like her," our captain says, his brow knitting together like he can't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

Three of us turn to him, pausing as we slide into the booth. Dom looks smug as hell.

"Thank you. You've always been my favorite." He pats Cruz on the shoulder.

"What?" Dean grumbles, staring daggers at his best friend.

"Shhhh," Dom soothes, reaching across the table to lay a hand on Dean's arm.

He immediately snatches it away, his scowl deepening as he says, "Actually, you know what? That's fine. You can have him, Cruz."

"There's plenty of me to go around, no need to fight. Xavier needs us to be a united front if we're going to help him with his girl problem." Dom looks completely serious as he props his chin on his hand, staring right at me.

I roll my eyes, trying to remember how I got myself into this mess. "I don't have a girl problem."

A balled up napkin hits me in the face, straight from Hendrix's hand. "Dude, just call her."

"We're talking about Vivi, right?" Cruz asks, looking between the two of us.

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