Ten
When the hell would he get a goddamn break? It wasn’t bad enough that he had the shitty end of every f*cking stick when it came to family, now the universe had to take a dump on him in the form of a big shiny diamond around Maddie’s neck.
And here he was being the good guy and helping out Coach with his team. Was there no such thing as a good deed being rewarded in this world?
“Thought you said Peach was coming too,” Coach said, standing beside MJ on the third baseline watching the boys practice batting.
“Something came up.”
Yeah it did. Something came up hard and fast, and he’d almost shoved it home. Then he saw the ring, and it went right back down and hid deep inside his boxer briefs. Nothing like another guy’s engagement ring to make the mood wither and die.
The bat cracked into the ball, sending it out in left field. “Good hit!” Coach yelled.
“Get under it!” MJ shouted to the left fielder who caught it. “Nice!”
Coach spit tobacco juice on the ground. “Everything good between you two?”
“What do you think?” MJ eyed the small kid in the batter’s box. He remembered him from last year. He couldn’t hit far, but the boy could run. “Move in!” he yelled to the infield. “He’s going to bunt.”
“He’s actually been hitting some decent grounders,” Coach said. “Boy’s fast.”
MJ tugged on the bill of his cap. Maddie’s ring sat like a lead rock in his pocket. Knowing her, she’d sneak in the big house and snoop through his bedroom while he was gone, which was why he’d keep it in his pocket until she asked for it back.
Which she wouldn’t.
Maddie was always trying to make up rules as she went along, but she never realized they just delayed the real outcome. You win a game, or you lose. There’s no almost. You get engaged, or you don’t. There was no taking a break to think about it.
If she didn’t say yes, then the answer was no.
What kind of loser agrees to a break? Why would anyone want to marry someone who has to run away and tear you apart in her mind, weighing each piece to see if it’s worth enough to be tied down to you for the rest of her life?
MJ hooked his thumbs in his pockets and scuffed his foot along the base line.
She’d run away from him, too. Guess that made him a pathetic loser who hoped she’d come back for over a year.
What had he done wrong? Yeah, he lost his head sometimes and his temper all the time. But it wasn’t like that was a surprise to her. She’d known him forever.
Maybe it was like she’d said, only kids play to her.
“All right!” Coach yelled. “Give me five laps around the diamond and you’re free to go. I want you all here fifteen minutes before the game starts on Saturday. Don’t be late!”
MJ realized he’d spent the whole practice lost inside his head over Maddie. “I wasn’t much help,” he said. “Team looks good this season.”
“We’re not winning many games, but they’re fighters. You and Peach whipped them into shape their first year. You two make a good team. Always have though.”
He could feel Coach eyeing him, but kept his gaze on the team running laps. “She was wearing an engagement ring around her neck.”
Coach shuffled from foot to foot and tucked his hands in his pockets. “Not on her finger?”
MJ let out a sharp chuckle. “She and the guy are taking a break until she figures out if she’s going to tell him yes or no.” He turned his head to Coach. “I took it from her. The ring.”
Coach’s face went blank, then he slowly smiled, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you two? You’re like fire and gasoline.”
“Yeah.” MJ thought about earlier, with her under him on the table, how easily she could get him worked up—like tossing gas on a fire. “We are.”
“Take it easy on her. I don’t know why, but it seems like she hasn’t had her head on straight since you two broke up. She’s got something stuck in her brain she’s being stubborn about.”
MJ had sensed it too, but he figured it was just him. Maddie not wanting to be around him.
He reached into his pocket and squeezed the damn ring. How long had she been with this guy? Long enough for him to be proposing?
“Good to see you helping out again,” a man said beside MJ, jerking him out of his thoughts.
Mr. Singleton stood beside him. MJ’s back stiffened. “Thanks.”
Coach chuckled. “If you call hanging around on the baseline with his thumbs in his pockets helping out.”
“No Maddie again this year?” Mr. Singleton asked. MJ wasn’t sure if it was the guy’s tone or his own imagination that implied more than what was on the surface of the question.
“She stayed home today,” he said, smugly.
“Hope she can make it to the game this weekend. We missed her last season.” He motioned for his son. “Let’s go, Charlie!”
MJ squeezed the ring in his pocket again. If it wasn’t Ring Man, it would be Mr. Singleton after her. He couldn’t take it anymore. Being around her was torture. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
Pulling into the driveway after practice, MJ parked beside a black Mercedes sedan he’d never seen before. The Old Man was always having business meetings, so it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d seen a strange car at the Rocha Estate. But, this one had him feeling uneasy. Too many surprises had been dropped in his lap lately—Rachael and Maddie to name two—and he didn’t want to be caught off-guard again.
He walked in the back door and glanced down the hall to his grandfather’s closed office door. The house was quiet, but it always was. Still, something seemed different.
“You’re home,” Mr. Simcoe said, bustling out of the great room. “Come with me.” He took MJ by the arm, spun him around and almost had him out the door.
“Wait. Where are you taking me?” He wasn’t walking into anything unprepared.
Something lit behind Mr. Simcoe’s eyes. A hopefulness. Eagerness maybe? But it was shaded with uncertainty. “MJ, your dad’s here.”
He stared at him trying to register the words. They came into his ears and jumbled before reaching his brain. There was no way he was putting them together right. “What?”
“Merrick. He’s here.”
Realization slammed into him full force, like a door shut in his face.
He wanted to run, scream, flip the f*ck out, but he could only stand there staring at Mr. Simcoe, struck dumb. He cocked his thumb toward Enzo’s office. “Is he in there?”
Mr. Simcoe shook his head. “No. They spoke already. Very briefly. He’s back at the guest house with Rachael. Maddie’s in with Enzo. He wanted to make sure she knew what was going on so she could be there to support you.”
“Maddie?” His brain was tearing in two. One half wondering what the f*ck Enzo wanted with Maddie, the other half scared shitless to meet Merrick.
“I’d hoped she’d be out of there before you came home so she could go along to the guest house with you. I’m sure it would be nice for you to have someone familiar along.”
“Familiar. Yeah. Maddie’s familiar.” What was this random string of words coming out of his mouth?
Mr. Simcoe patted his back. He probably thought MJ had lost his mind. “Will you wait for her?” Mr. Simcoe asked.
Should he wait for Maddie? He’d been waiting for her his whole life. A few more minutes wouldn’t kill him.
And he needed her there. He didn’t know if he could face Merrick alone.
“I’ll wait for her.” He glanced down at his old, dust-covered jeans. “I’m going to go up and change.”
He took a few steps down the hall.
“MJ?” Mr. Simcoe called.
He glanced over his shoulder.
“Everything will be fine. Good even. You’ll see.”
MJ nodded, not sure he believed him, and headed upstairs.