By October he was dead tired, burned out, and desperate for a break. By February he was eager to get started again, ready to play the game. Every season it was like this.
He loved baseball. It had been in his blood since he was five years old and his father had stuck a bat in his hand and pitched him his first ball to hit. Something about seeing that ball skip across the dirt and through Mick’s legs or over Jenna’s head had made him feel a sense of accomplishment he couldn’t get anywhere else. And all through T-ball and Little League, and in high school and college, he knew there was only thing he wanted to do with his life.
Play baseball. Because he was damn good at it.
After his turn at the plate, he grabbed his glove and went to his position at first base to shag grounders and work on his fielding.
They were having a scrimmage with Tampa Bay today. Warmups were finished and Tampa Bay’s batters were up first, so Gavin stayed at first base. Wasn’t even an official preseason game, but it was a game, and damn he was ready.
While the pitcher warmed up, he glanced into the stands and saw Elizabeth sitting in the second row on the first baseline. Sunglasses shielded her eyes. She wore her hair up, as usual, but she at least wore a sleeveless blouse and those pant things that came up to her calves. Capri pants. That’s what she’d called them when she got dressed this morning.
And high heels. He shook his head.
She was on the phone talking to someone, and her face was buried in her laptop, typing away at something.
In other words, she wasn’t paying attention. Not even when the announcer called batter up and the crowds applauded loudly.
She might as well have stayed at the house for all the attention she paid to the game.
Gavin focused his attention on the batter, who struck out. Gavin rolled his shoulders and got into position, bending over and readying for whatever might happen. Batter two hit a grounder toward first base. Gavin scooped it up and touched the base before the runner was halfway down the line.
Two outs.
Third batter popped up in right field.
It was time for Gavin’s team to bat. Gavin waited in the dugout, since he was third in the lineup. Jose batted first since he had a good average, was fast, and could steal bases. He hit a grounder just past the shortstop and got on base. Dave popped up so Jose had to hold at first base, which brought Gavin up to bat. He stood at the plate and held at the first pitch, too high. Second pitch looked low and inside, but the umpire called it a strike. Third pitch was right down the middle and Gavin swung. It dropped in front of the left fielder, and Gavin ran for first. Jose, one fast motherfucker, ended up at third.
Gavin took a quick glance at the seats. Elizabeth still had her head buried in her laptop, not paying attention to the game.
He was irritated by how much it irritated him. So she wasn’t watching. What difference did it make? She was his agent and they were fucking. It wasn’t like she mattered to him or anything.
Focus back on the game, he got into running position and stepped off the base when Dedrick came up to bat. As their cleanup hitter, Dedrick was a powerhouse with a bat and held the team home-run record. Gavin leaned right.
First pitch was a strike. Second was in the dirt, but the catcher smothered it, saving a run. Dedrick got a piece of the third pitch but sent it behind him into the stands, foul. He connected on the fourth pitch and let it sail over the left field wall for a home run. Hell yeah. All Gavin had to do was make a slow trek around the bases.
As Gavin made his way to homeplate, despite the fans wild cheering, Elizabeth didn’t once look up.
Dammit.
They ended up winning the practice game seven to two. Gavin showered, talked to the press, and signed a few autographs. Elizabeth met him at the dugout when he was finished.
“Next time I need to bring a hat. The sun is hot,” she said as they walked to his car.
“Did you enjoy the game?”
“Yeah. It was great.”
As if she had any idea. “What was the final score?”
She tilted her sunglasses down her nose. “Seven to two. You won and you scored twice. You’re crowding the plate a little, though. You need to step back, or someone’s going to bean you in the head.”
Huh. So maybe she was paying attention.
He opened her door for her and she slid in. He tossed his gear in the trunk, feeling stupid for being mad. He slammed the trunk door and got in the car, started it up and headed back to the house.
When they got inside, Elizabeth went into the kitchen. “You want something to drink?”
“A beer would be good.”
He went outside and sat on the porch. She brought out two bottles of beer. He twisted the top off both, handed one back to her.
“Don’t really see you as a beer drinker,” he said as she took a seat on the swing.
She took a long swig. “You don’t know all that much about me, Gavin.”
“True enough. Why don’t you tell me?”