Wow, what a big head this one had.
“Yeah, you’re the pitcher. But without me, you can’t see shit. You see me, and you see the batter. If you can’t learn to trust me, you’re not only fucking yourself. You’re fucking the whole damn team.” My voice was louder than it should’ve been. I was pissed.
Coach was quick to push between us, tossing Calvin back a couple feet with his force. I avoided the smirk that itched to show on my face, instead, staying calm. “Enough,” he screamed.
“He’s refusing to call the pitches I told him to call,” Calvin whined like a little bitch to his Mommy.
“Because these hitters know what’s coming. They’re ready for it. Your bag of tricks have all been exposed, Malone. It’s time to wise up.” This time my smirk displayed without reluctance.
“That’s it. You two can’t finish this game together,” Coach said, his face turning a strange color of deep purple with his anger.
Calvin smirked, stepped back onto the mound, apparently feeling he’d won this battle. “Singleton,” Coach yelled, motioning for him to come out of the dugout and out to the field.
Calvin’s smirk quickly faded as Luke Singleton raced out to the mound. “Yes, Coach,” he said.
“You’re finishing the game.”
“What the fuck?” Calvin groaned, tossing his glove into the dirt and stomping off toward the dugout.
A part of me felt sorry for the guy. I knew what it was like to be tossed out of the game. We were halfway through an exhibition game, and nobody liked to be pulled.
I hadn’t worked much with Luke, but he didn’t fight me on my signs. I told him to pitch a fastball, he threw a fastball. I wanted it on the outside, he pitched to the outside. He was easy to work with, but he wasn’t nearly as accurate as Malone. He was slower, showing either his lack of strength or his over partying, probably both.
After the game, I avoided Calvin in the locker room. We’d won, but barely with Luke’s weak pitches, overly tired arm, and lazy eyes out on the field. He was still easier to work with than Calvin.
My body ached as I stripped down for my deep tissue massage. My shoulders were on fire, and my knees felt like they would snap apart at any moment. While the rest of the team showered and took off for a night on the town to celebrate, I was being manhandled by a therapist named Ben.
I knew that with Calvin on the mound I wouldn’t have had to work so hard to keep the field safe. Coach knew we were the best team. I knew we were the best team. I wasn’t sure Calvin was ever going to realize that.
“Ice that knee tonight for at least twenty minutes. And stay off it if possible,” Ben told me, slapping me on the back to signal he was done working my sore muscles.
“Sure thing,” I agreed.
Everyone was already long gone when I stepped into the showers. My thoughts drifted to Katrina. Why was she being so cold, so professional? This was just a fuckin’ job, and not a glamorous one. She didn’t even need it. She was Katrina Delaney.
The water penetrated into my pores, pushing out the toxins that Ben had stirred up. Don’t be a dick, Todd. She wants to do a good job. Quit whining like a little bitch that you aren’t getting enough attention. It still drove me crazy not to push her into the wall and kiss her each time she walked by.
I’d been on her floor a dozen times at least. I would ride the elevator down to her floor to get ice, passing a perfectly good ice machine outside my own door to do it. I never knocked. I didn’t linger. But I did hope with each visit that I’d bump into her in the halls.
My dick twitched at the thought of what would happen during that not-so-chance meeting. I needed some action, something exciting. If I couldn’t have Katrina, I’d have to find something to smooth over this jagged edge looming around me.
“Thanks, man,” I slipped the cab driver an extra twenty for picking me up so quickly. I stepped out, looking up at the tall white condo building, wondering if Katrina was already inside. Maybe she wasn’t alone. She could be finishing up interviews, possibly Kane’s? That smooth talking mother-fucker worried me each time I caught her smiling into his dark, mysterious eyes.
Shake it off, Morris.
The lobby was flooded with players, all congregating around Ace Newman. “Hey, Morris,” he called out to me as I tried to walk by unnoticed.
When he turned toward me, I noticed a baby straddling his hip. He had a full head of black hair, thick and wild like Ace’s. His eyes were large and bright like his mother’s, who stood beside them with an uncertain smile.
“Hey, that’s a handsome man you got there,” I said, stopping to greet them properly.
“Yeah. He’s growing like a weed. Won’t be long, he’ll be out there on the field,” Ace boasted.
I watched Holly’s eyes narrow, and her smile turned to a frown at his words. It was obvious she wasn’t so anxious to raise another ball player. After experiencing Ace Newman at his finest not-so-fine hour, or decade, I could understand why.
“Have you met my wife, Holly?” he asked.
I had. Yes, indeed. I’d partied with Holly and Whitney several times. I wasn’t surprised that Ace didn’t remember. “I believe we’ve met,” I said with a little nod.
Ace was blasted back then, throwing parties, fucking anything that’d hold still, so I was certain he’d not realized exactly how I’d met his wife. It didn’t matter. That was the past. Holly had actually asked me to stick with Whitney once she’d realized how poorly Calvin was acting.
“So, this is Rip Newman, the next baseball legend?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Not if I can help it,” Holly said quickly, reaching to take the baby from Ace’s arms.
Calvin was glaring at me from across the room. Seriously? The game was over. There was no need for his anger to carry on off-field too.
“Let me,” a soft, familiar voice sounded close to me.
I could hear Rip fussing and Holly telling Ace she was going to take him upstairs to change him when that voice, that sweet, familiar voice chimed in.
Calvin’s eyes burned through me as I knew my surprise, possibly my excitement at the voice displayed openly on my face without consent. I turned to see Whitney, the beautiful Whitney, standing just a few feet from me.
Her arms opened. She took Rip close to her chest. He snuggled in as if she were familiar to him as well, almost as familiar as she had been to me. For a moment, I felt envious of the child so close to her warm breasts. What I wouldn’t give to take in the scent of her skin one last time.
My eyes locked with hers. Her lips parted like she was about to speak. Calvin gripped her elbow. “I’ll go up with you,” he insisted sternly.