Kamden
You could say my life was going just the way that I had planned it.
And then life threw me a curveball, but doesn’t she know I don’t play sports?
What I thought was the worst thing that could happen to me turned out
to be the best thing that could have happened.
Fate had other plans for me, all because I used my now ex-fiancé’s baseball meet
and greet passes to the Colorado Mountaineers game. And then, I met him.
One look, one encounter, and I knew I would never be the same.
But this was a game I wasn’t sure I was ready to play, or that I would win.
Colt
My life was going just the way I planned it.
I threw a fastball right down the middle of my life, and she hit it right out of the
park, because the girl fate brought me was out of my league.
This fan meet-and-greet day changed my life forever because I met her.
One look, one encounter, and I knew she was the one for me.
This was a game I was ready to play and not about to lose.
Kamden
You could say my life was going just the way that I had planned it.
And then life threw me a curveball, but doesn’t she know I don’t play sports?
What I thought was the worst thing that could happen to me turned out
to be the best thing that could have happened.
Fate had other plans for me, all because I used my now ex-fiancé’s baseball meet
and greet passes to the Colorado Mountaineers game. And then, I met him.
One look, one encounter, and I knew I would never be the same.
But this was a game I wasn’t sure I was ready to play, or that I would win.
Colt
My life was going just the way I planned it.
I threw a fastball right down the middle of my life, and she hit it right out of the
park, because the girl fate brought me was out of my league.
This fan meet-and-greet day changed my life forever because I met her.
One look, one encounter, and I knew she was the one for me.
This was a game I was ready to play and not about to lose.
The Truth
20-20- Ella Langley
Fiance’:
Babe, when are you coming home?
It’s urgent, I really need you to come home right now.
What the heck is going on? I’ve never received a text like that from Dillon, not in all three years we’ve been together. Hopefully, everything in our new apartment is okay, and my fur baby, Dutton, is fine. Yes, he’s named after Dutton Ranch because Yellowstone is my guilty pleasure. What can I say? I’m in my cowboy era.
Me:
My shift ends in 20 minutes.
I’ll be home right after.
Is everything okay? Can it wait?
Now my stomach is all tied up in knots from the unknown, and my anxiety is starting to grow. Hopefully, he’ll text me back to give me an idea of what’s going on. He knows my anxiety can’t handle this; the suspense is killing me.
I keep glancing at the clock and nervously biting my bottom lip. I take a deep breath in, it’s fine, it’s all fine. I remind myself to focus on taking slow, deep breaths. I’m almost done with my shift. I just have to hold on a little longer.
Let’s not forget, this is Dillon we’re talking about. Sometimes what he thinks is urgent isn’t really urgent. Or what an emergency really is, like the time he ran out of coffee pods during his study session and called me, freaking out, asking if I could leave work to bring him more.
I was in the middle of an ER shift, like what the fuck, Dillon. That’s not an emergency, or my problem. I told him to walk down to the local grocery store and pick some up, or better yet, use his DoorDash app and have it delivered right to the door. You know, like a normal person would do.
Problem-solving is not his modus operandi.
For someone currently in med school, I feel like he should have more common sense, but I must remember we weren’t raised the same way. His parents have always been financially well-off, and he has always had housekeepers, personal drivers, and chefs at his disposal growing up. Meanwhile, my parents were all of the above and then some. They worked regular 9-5 jobs, five days a week, and made sure that we always got by.
I moved to Denver to be closer to Dillon while he’s in school. We just got engaged seven months ago, much to my parents’ dismay. Not that they dislike Dillon, but I don’t think they approve of him for me. But what’s not to like? He’s charming, good-looking, and ambitious. I mean, come on, he’s perfect. He’s going to be a fucking doctor. He checks all the boxes for me.
My parents are great people, and I hope to be like them someday. But I think they are wrong about Dillon; my mom said she thinks he’s too self-centered for marriage. I mean, I know he has his moments, but doesn’t everybody? Not all relationships are perfect.
I know that eventually, my parents will respect my relationship with Dillon. They understand that I’m happy and that he’s the person I want in my life. They trust my judgment on this. They told me that’s all they’ve ever wanted for me; for their only child to find true love and happiness.
I grew up a couple of hours away in a small town in eastern Colorado. I attended college about an hour north of Denver at Colorado State University. I met Dillon there when we were both sophomores, taking anatomy and physiology, and we got paired on a project together. He was on the path to pre-med, and I was on the path to pre-nursing.
We had an instant connection and shared many common interests. He always said he knew immediately that I was the one for him. I always thought he was cute and charming. It honestly took me a while to warm up to the idea of dating him, not because I didn’t find him attractive or have instant feelings. I just wanted to focus on my studies and avoid trying to juggle a new relationship, studying, and getting into the nursing school program the following year.
However, Dillon has always been persistent and tends to get what he wants, likely because his parents rarely said ‘no’ to him while he was growing up. He finally wore me down with his constant requests for dates, and I gave in and went out with him. From there, we started dating, and our relationship continued to grow.
After graduating from college, we moved to Denver. We are finally taking the next step in our relationship by moving in together. After months of searching, we finally found the perfect apartment with a great view of downtown.
The day we signed our lease, I walked into the living room of our new apartment and saw rose petals and candles everywhere. I turned around to look at Dillon to see if we were in the right place, and he was down on one knee. I’ll never forget the words he said to me at that moment: “I knew from the first look that you were always going to be mine. I can’t imagine going through life with anyone else but you. Will you marry me, sweetheart?” I said yes instantly, tears rolling down my face. I couldn’t have been happier; this was the next step for us.
A new apartment and a new fiancé—my life was improving for the better.
I couldn’t wait to call my parents and start planning the wedding with my mom; she has been looking forward to this day with me for as long as I can remember. It’s something we’ve always dreamed about together.
But a couple of months into our engagement, Dillon’s mom, Kathleen, had pretty much taken over the wedding planning. It’s fine, really, well, kind of. At first, it really was fine; she would listen to my vision of what I wanted, take notes, handle minor details, and offer a few recommendations.
Now that we’re only a couple of months away from the wedding day, I feel like she’s planning her wedding and not mine. I told her I wanted a small, intimate wedding with a mountain view as the backdrop.
At that time, she said she loved the idea and even looked up venues that matched my vision. She could never agree with me on one, then told me she had the perfect venue for us and had already booked it. She had everything arranged for our big day. And now, we are getting married at the country club where Dillon’s family is a part of.
And I’ll let you in on a little secret. I fucking hate that country club. I hate it when they invite Dillon and me to dinner and brunch. The place is snooty and pretentious. Don’t even get me started on the members. Dillon told me that we will be members in the future. Can’t fucking wait.
When Kathleen and I talked about the wedding colors, I told her I liked blush pink and cream. I’ve seen many wedding inspiration pictures, and the colors look beautiful together. She scoffed when she saw the pictures and said, in a not-so-subtle way, that those weren’t the colors for Dillon’s wedding. Yes, she said, Dillon’s wedding.
She showed me the wedding vision board she had made and explained the colors she had already chosen: purple and gold, which, according to her, are elegant and symbolize royalty. She believes her family is Denver royalty.
Why does she think I would ever want an over-the-top country club wedding with seating arrangements and checking the boxes for a prime rib or steak with lobster card that people have to send back in? That just baffles me. I’ve always been a simple kind of girl, and I don’t think she’s really a fan of that.
I think she always believed Dillon could do much better than me. But I wanted her to like me and be happy for us, so I just grinned and said, “Sure, it does sound lovely.” And she often reminds me that she and her husband are paying for everything for their only son. I’ll admit, it’s been nice not stressing over every little wedding detail while I settle into my new job and our new apartment.
As I check my phone for a response from Dillon, I realize my shift is finally over. I exit the elevator in the parking garage and walk out to my jeep. I try to call Dillon, but it goes to voicemail after the second ring. I hang up and try again, and it goes to voicemail again, as if he’s sending it straight there. If this was so urgent, why the fuck isn’t he answering my calls?
As I open the door to get into the car, I think about what his schedule looks like today. I thought he was in class, but I’m not sure. I don’t really keep up with his schedule, but it’s not like he keeps up with mine either. I feel like his schedule changes all the time, or he’s always leaving to go to a study group. Usually, between my 12-hour shifts and sometimes working doubles, I’m catching up on sleep or trying to hike my favorite trails with Dutton since the weather is starting to warm up.
I know Dillon and I haven’t had a proper date night in weeks, and even longer for sex, if I’m being honest. I understand it’s normal to go through a slump in a relationship, so I try not to dwell on it too much, even though it’s a little concerning to me. I think our honeymoon will give us some time to reconnect.
I understand that Dillon has been feeling stressed about med school and keeping up with his studies and grades. He’s also trying to make a good impression for a letter of recommendation for his residency placement. I just hope we won’t have to leave the area; I really like it here and my new job.
I’m starting to meet friends too, like Taylor. She’s also a new nurse who began on the same day as I did. We instantly clicked the morning we met for new hire orientation. She has truly been a blessing, and I know she will be a lifelong friend. We pretty much work the same shift, so I see her often.
She works on the 5th floor of the hospital in the children’s wing. If our breaks ever line up, we meet in the coffee shop on the third floor, which is the one that always adds extra caramel for me. We bond over our love for iced coffee and catch up on what’s happening during our shifts.
We’ve also been having weekly girls’ nights with chick flicks and Chinese takeout at her place. Her sister, Tate, who is her roommate, has been joining us, too, and I’ve been getting to know her as well. It’s been nice to make new friends here. Since I don’t really know anyone yet besides Dillon, who’s been too busy to hang out with me lately and is never home, it seems.
My other friend, Olivia, who was also my college roommate, lives in Denver and works for a major marketing company. She moved here right after college as well. I don’t see her often since she’s busy with work and traveling.
I try to reach out once a week to check on her and see if she can meet me for coffee or dinner, but most of the time it doesn’t work out. It feels like she’s blowing me off, but I also have to remember that we are adults now with full-time jobs; this isn’t college anymore, so she’s probably too busy to meet me.
Speaking of Olivia, I wonder what she is doing right now. I should call her on my way home. I have a twenty-minute commute to the apartment, so this is the perfect time to check in. Using my Bluetooth speaker in my Jeep, I press the button on the steering wheel and say, “Call Olivia.” The phone connects instantly, but after the second ring, it goes to voicemail. Ugh, why do everyone’s calls keep going to voicemail? This is becoming frustrating.
“It’s Olivia, please leave me a message, bye.” After hearing the beep, I leave her a voicemail. “Hey, Livi, just calling to check in and see how you’re doing. Maybe you’re out traveling this week. Please call me back so we can plan a time to catch up. Would love to hear from you, bye.”
It wasn’t uncommon for Olivia not to answer or barely get back to me. Maybe my mom was right, and we really do only have friends for the current season of life we’re in. Or maybe she was just meant to be my college roommate and friend from that time. I don’t like to think of her that way. She was my best friend and roommate in all four years of college. It would be sad to think of her as a seasonal friend rather than a lifelong one.
I finally see our apartment building come into view and breathe a sigh of relief. My muscles have been tense ever since reading Dillon’s text message earlier. I look over the building; okay, no smoke, so the building isn’t on fire, and I don’t see any other medical or police vehicles lining the street, so what is so urgent for him?
Pulling into the parking garage, I park my car in my designated spot. I notice Dillon’s Mercedes in his spot next to mine. So, he doesn’t have class right now. As I get out of my car and walk toward the elevator, I catch a glimpse of Olivia’s red BMW, but I’m probably wrong because I know she doesn’t live in this building or even on this side of Denver.
I shake my head to clear it. It’s probably a car that looks like hers. This apartment complex is upscale because Dillon was particular about where he lived. I just agreed with whatever he wanted. I was just happy he asked me to live with him and take this next step in our relationship.
I get on the elevator and ride it up to the 15th floor. I get off and walk down the hall to the right. I use my key to open the door to our apartment. I step inside and notice that it’s quiet, too quiet really.
I start looking around, wondering where Dutton is; he always greets me at the door. This is odd. Walking into the kitchen, I set my keys and work bag on the table. I hear faint whining and scratching from the pantry. What the hell is that? Turning around and walking toward the pantry, I open the door, and Dutton comes running out and jumps on me.
I look down at him, “Oh my gosh, did you get locked in there?” I ask in disbelief. I start scratching him behind the ears to reassure him that he’s okay and that I’m here. “It’s okay, bud. I’m sorry,” I say as I keep rubbing him. He’s happy to see me and to be out of the small, dark pantry. “Let’s get you a treat, big guy.” He sits and waits beside the door, not going back in—probably afraid he’ll get shut in again. That makes me mad for Dutton; this is his home, too.
Where the fuck is Dillon?
Reaching into the pantry, I grab his favorite dog cookies from the local dog bakery. After I give him his treat, he runs off into the living room to eat it.
I start looking around, wondering where the hell Dillon is and why Dutton is stuck in the pantry. Dillon didn’t hear him crying and scratching at the door? Maybe he didn’t notice that Dutton followed him in there while he was looking for a snack.
But really, how could he not?
Dutton is clingy as fuck. If I’m here, he’s always right beside me, and if I leave, he’ll latch onto the next person available. I often call him my little shadow. How did he not notice that he wasn’t next to him, or hear his nails clicking on the hardwood floors?
But again, this is Dillon we’re talking about. He’s not the most observant and isn’t really a dog fan, but he knows how much Dutton means to me. I feel like he tolerates him at best. He’s constantly bitching about the dog hair and saying he needs “more training.” I just laugh and roll my eyes at Dillon because he’s not used to having a pet. He’s never owned one before.
I walk into the living room and glance around, but I don’t see Dillon in there.
My eyes stop on the coffee table. There are two wine glasses, filled to the brim with wine. Sauvignon Blanc, if I had to guess. It’s Dillon’s favorite. We haven’t had wine together in a long time. We used to sit and drink while we talked about our day. It was always our thing.
That makes me pause; that’s strange.
Why are there two glasses instead of just one?
He usually tells me if he has someone coming over for drinks, and it’s always bourbon on the terrace. He goes all out to impress them—cigars, upscale bourbon, and flashy snacks—while the guys talk about how rich, influential, and important they are.
Or they think they are.
I watch Dutton sitting on the rug, and he cocks his head to the side at me. “Where the hell is he?” I ask him. I know Dutton doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but I always talk to him. He‘s my baby; we’ve been together for the past two years.
I look out the window to see if anyone is on the terrace, and it’s empty. As I turn around, I notice a navy jacket carelessly tossed on the floor, suggesting whoever took it off was in a hurry. I know for sure it’s not Dillon’s. Or mine.
My heart rate increases, and I start breathing heavily because I feel like my body is trying to prepare itself, as if its fight-or-flight instincts are kicking in.
Calm down, Kam, it’s nothing.
I turn and walk down the hallway, where our bedroom and Dillon’s office are located. Usually, if he’s not in the main area, he’s in his office studying.
The door to his office is open, which means he’s not inside. I walk past it to go to our bedroom.
I hear noises—heavy breathing, grunting, and groaning.
Is Dillon working out in the bedroom? That’s unusual. We have a gym on the fifth floor of the apartment complex. I thought he had gotten up and worked out this morning at 5:30. He was heading down to the gym while I was heading to the parking garage to leave for my shift.
I walk to the door, which is not entirely shut, and push it open. What I see is not at all what I expected.
Kamden is contemplating how much she misses the closeness she used to have with her best friend when she walks in on her fiancé and that very friend in bed together. A chronic playboy, Colt thinks he's scoring a one-night stand until he realizes the woman he went home with is obsessed with him, with his sports memorabilia on her walls and a zodiac-inspired determination that they are meant to be together. With the cheating ex-fiancé and the gushing superfan both unwilling to accept that they can't force the objects of their affection into a relationship, Kamden and Colt each bring a lot of baggage when they embark on a new relationship.
Having lost both her best friend and her fiancé in a single blow, Kamden understandably has lingering trust issues. It would be difficult enough to start a new relationship so soon after betrayal, but Colt's stalker is armed with compromising photographs and enough influence to convince even Colt's close associates that they are together. Kamden's constant inner turmoil about whether Colt is truly invested is understandable and makes her a very relatable main character.
Told through dual narration, scenes are often portrayed from both points of view, allowing the reader to experience an omniscient perspective. For readers who do not like the miscommunication trope in romance novels, you can be assured that Kamden and Colt both communicate very well, so the stress that comes with knowing the truth while characters are at odds is not present in this book.
Overall, I truly enjoyed reading The One for Me by Jordy Robins. With multiple explicit intimate scenes, this book is best suited for adult fans of sports romance and the black cat/golden retriever trope. The only critique I can offer is that the book started to stray toward the end, shifting focus to Colt's family and other issues that weren't central to the story.