Luke botched the first pitch, almost hitting the batter. If he didn’t pull it together, we were screwed.
“C’mon, Singleton, focus on the game,” I yelled out as my own source of encouragement.
He appeared to calm. His shoulders lowered, relieving the tension that was creating the chaos in his pitches. I watched his thumb glide across the seam of the ball and his arm wind it up. Strike. There ya go, kid.
Luke found his groove, striking out three batters in a row. It was certainly a morale booster to come out of the gate swinging like champs, but it would’ve been better if it lasted.
Marty knocked one over the fence, so did Jack. I scored a triple, and Frank pushed me home. After that first inning ended we were up 3-1.
From there, things fell apart. Luke spazzed out on us and started throwing wild pitches that resulted in walk after walk. Coach didn’t want to pull him, but at the start of the fourth inning, he had no choice. We were down 3-5. The Yankees were starting to gloat.
I stopped two steals, caught four pop-ups, and tagged three men out before they made it to second. But the Yankees still managed to score another four runs by the end of the ninth inning. The final score, 7-9.
The walk back to the locker room was a long one.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Holly
I rubbed lotion into my skin as I watched all the bikini-clad school girls bouncing around me. “Were we ever that young?” I asked Whitney.
She slid her sunglasses from her eyes to the tip of her nose and lifted her head to take in the chaos that surrounded us. “Yes. I just hope we weren’t ever that stupid.”
Whitney wasn’t, that was true. I had been stupid my entire life, mainly my choices in men.
“You either,” she said sternly, giving me a tight glare from above her shaded lenses. I loved how she could read my thoughts. We’d been friends for so long it was almost as if she knew me better than I knew myself.
I looked around the hotel pool, scoping out all the hot young girls that were now staying there. I knew that as soon as they were gone, another slew would arrive, and then another after that. “How many of these girls do you think Ace will sleep with before he gets home?” I asked.
“How many do you think?”
I looked around, started to count, and then threw up my hands. “All of them.”
“Bingo.” She waited a moment before adding, “So, how are you planning on handling this?” I knew what she was asking. What was I going to do with Ace?
“I’ll just tell him the truth.”
The thought of letting Ace Newman go sickened me. He was so exciting, so passionate, and the sex, holy shit, the sex was like a religious experience. But no matter how much I wanted him to change, he wouldn’t. I couldn’t change him, and I needed more from a relationship that what he was able to give me. Holding on would just hurt us both.
“You’re doing the right thing,” she assured me.
There were things I hadn’t told her; things I wasn’t sure I’d ever tell her. Ace was a troubled man, paralyzed at times with fear, riddled with pain, and had a constant battering in his own head about failure and an inability to please his father. I related to him, and that was a strong pull towards him, but I didn’t want to share Ace’s personal life tragedies without his consent, even if it would make my best friend understand why I loved him.
“Quit it,” she hissed without even turning to look at me.
“Quit what?”
“Rationalizing why Ace Newman is lovable and deserves a chance.”
Yup. She knew me too well.
Ace was a toxin, but I still loved him. I just had to let him go. It was time for one of us to grow up.
“Excuse me?” A tall, slender girl with light blonde hair was standing at the edge of Whitney’s lounge chair blocking the sun.
“Yes?” Whitney sat up in her chair and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.
“Are you Whitney Harris?”
“Yes.”
“Engaged to Calvin Malone?”
She nodded.
Her two girlfriends behind her let out a squeal. “You’re so lucky,” the blonde girl announced.
“You’re Holly Summer, right?” one of the other girls asked.
“Yeah, I am.” It was the first time I’d been recognized outside of New York or Indiana.
She bit her bottom lip. “You aren’t still dating Ace Newman, are you?”
How the hell did I answer that? Yes? No? It’s complicated? It’s a figment of my imagination? Seriously, there really was no label for what we were to each other.
“You seem so sweet,” the blonde offered up with a sympathetic voice when I took too long to answer.
Another added, “We’re really sorry,” before walking away.
“Really?” I frowned at Whitney, who was staring at me in amazement.
“I’m sorry, that’s just so funny,” she said, doing her best not to laugh and failing miserably.
“No. It really isn’t,” I snarled as I leaned back into my seat. “That pretty much sums it up though, doesn’t it?”
“Sums up what?” Whitney asked.
“The difference between Calvin and Ace.”
She sat up and turned until she was facing me. “What do you mean?”
“How many girls will Calvin fuck here before he gets home?” I asked.
“None,” Whitney boasted. “Besides me.”
“And how many would fuck him?”
“Uh, all of them, of course,” she smiled with pride.
“Yeah. And Ace would fuck ‘em all.”
“Well, that’s true, and he’s never pretended he wouldn’t. Ace is a charmer, and he’s extremely handsome.” Why was Whitney complimenting the man she hated? To confuse me?
“You need to quit trying to put Ace in the untouchable house. He’ll have other women, lots of them because there is something inside him driving him to do it. Maybe it makes him feel young. Or successful. Or hell, maybe they’re just a distraction from whatever is eating him up inside. I just don’t want you hurt in the process, Holly. I wish you would just let him go.”
I leaned back in my chair, not sure how to respond. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to let him go. To distract her, I changed the subject to the wedding and upcoming party a bunch of her baseball girlfriends were throwing to celebrate her engagement. Whitney lifted an eyebrow but didn’t press me.
“Hannah is excited to see you again.”
Whitney smiled with affection. “I love your sister almost as much as I love you.”
My sister was flying in for the party, and to get away from our father. I couldn’t wait to see her. I didn’t know much about the party, just that one of the wives had asked me to come up with a game. I didn’t know many of the women invited; we’d never really been introduced. Most of the players on the team in relationships weren’t allowed to hang out with Ace.
“Thanksgiving is going to be here before you know it,” I told her. “Then your big day!”
She placed her hand over her heart and took a deep breath. She was overplaying her anxiety. Whitney Harris was born ready for this day. Her wedding had been thoroughly planned before her engagement photos hit the press.