It was true. This week, she’d called once when he was in the locker room and left two messages when he was working out. He’d called her in the middle of dinner with Edgar, while she was in the media box at his soccer game, and when she was touring the first school.
“I’m just going to talk, and you can listen because you probably can’t say much.” He took a breath. “I’m sick of being alone at all these events.”
Taran shut her eyes, unsure of what he meant.
“I know I insisted we keep things away from the public eye, and even as I’m saying this, I know this should be a conversation we have in person. But we spend more than half our time apart, so we need to learn to have tough conversations on the phone.”
“Okay.” Taran’s heart pounded a bit in her chest, and she wasn’t sure why.
“I want us to be in a place where you can come to an all-star dinner, or I can drag you on the field to celebrate with me after I pitch a perfect game.” Frustration laced his tone as he growled into the phone. “I want to figure out a way to make that happen. And I know there are complications that we need to work through. But I need to know if I’m the only one falling—” He stopped.
Her eyes flew open. A fluttering that started in her stomach echoed across her body and down to the tips of every finger. He didn’t say the words, but she heard them in his statement.
“Corey,” she whispered.
“Tell me I’m not alone in this, chipmunk.” That vulnerability in his voice that cut through her every time it came out echoed hard.
“You’re not.”
He blew out a hard breath, as if a giant weight had lifted off him.
“You get home first, but when my plane lands on Saturday night, I’m coming straight to you. Until then, can you think about the best way to do this? How to handle the media?”
“Me?” she asked and swallowed hard.
He just gave her the perfect reason to suggest she write a story about him. She’d have to tell him the entire situation, but this could mean it wouldn’t be so bad if they talked.
“I trust you more than anyone else, and I need help.”
She’d never wanted to earn someone’s trust so much. And part of her wished she’d already talked to him about the article so she could feel like she deserved it. But she knew it would have ended badly if she’d told him sooner.
“I always want to help you, Corey.”
“Taran?” Edgar called.
She glanced around and saw the children had all disappeared into the surrounding buildings. She held up one finger, and he tipped his head toward a gravel path leading to a pond surrounded by trees.
“I hear someone calling you, so I’m sure you need to go, but we’re on the same page, right?” Corey asked again.
“Of course,” she agreed.
“Good. Kick some article ass or whatever the appropriate ‘you’ve got this’ sentiment is,” Corey said.
She laughed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Taran pocketed the phone and ran her hands over her face, feeling uneasy. She didn’t know why though, because Corey had all but given her the green light to write the piece. But the knot inside her tightened. She had to swallow it down and focus on this article now.
She glanced down the path and saw Edgar sitting at a picnic table facing the small pond. She headed his way, locking the tightness inside.
“You’ve asked for this story for over a year. Do you know why I finally said yes?” he asked as soon as she stood next to him.
“I prefer not to question my good luck.”
Edgar chuckled. He was only in his mid-thirties and was in great shape. She watched his game in Guatemala City two nights ago, and he’d owned the field. But the more time she spent with him, the older he seemed.
“There has been speculation about why I have missed so many games this year and what it means.” He paused, and his dark eyes turned her way. “I’m retiring after this season, and your article will announce it.”
“I see,” Taran said. Although she gave the athletes she featured the final okay on her pieces, she never let them dictate what the articles said. News of his retirement would be huge, and getting the exclusive on it was a big win, but she wasn’t sure what strings this offer came with.