“Gotcha,” I said with a smile that screamed fuck off!
I didn’t move until the last player cleared out of the locker room. I walked out onto the field, stood on the mound, and looked up at the seat where Whitney had once watched me scrimmage. I remembered her smile, her arms in the air as she cheered or her scowls at the other team as they tried to steal a base.
Nothing in my life had ever hurt as bad as losing her.
It was my own doing, I knew that.
“Hey,” Marty called from the dugout. I turned to see him waving at me. I walked over to him and grabbed my bag that was on the ground. “You doing okay?” he asked.
I shook my head and continued walking out of the stadium towards my car.
“Let’s go get a beer,” he said. “You look like you could use a friend.”
I needed something, but I wasn’t sure exactly what.
“I don’t think I’d be very good company right now,” I sulked. “Probably best to just go home.”
“No,” he demanded. “Home alone is the worst place to be right now.”
I stopped and gave it some thought. I was dreading being home alone, badly enough that I had even tried to call Caroline.
“Okay,” I agreed. “But, not Home Plate.”
He nodded and followed me to my car. “You drive.”
I drove to a place just a few blocks from Home Plate. It was a dive, a country place with no sports memorabilia on the walls and TVs weren’t even turned on unless there was a NASCAR race.
We ordered a couple beers, and the cute bartender with a sandy blonde ponytail and dark roots smiled. “I know you two,” she exclaimed.
I just nodded and took the beers to a table near the back.
I listened to Marty talk about his breakup and how it almost destroyed him. “I’m lucky Rhett picked me for this team,” he admitted. “Otherwise, I believe I would’ve been benched until my contract ran out.”
I didn’t say anything, simply nodded. I’d heard that he’d been a last pick.
“You really need to watch your company,” he warned, leaning closer to me. “Ace Newman, for one. Don’t get too close.” He cleared his throat. “And Caroline Black. She’s up to no good, I can feel it in my veins.”
I stared at him as he ranted and raved about how Ace and Caroline had some plot and scheme and that Rhett may have been involved. It sounded crazy. After a while, it simply pissed me off. “Look, I get it, you haven’t had much luck with love, or with friends, but that doesn’t mean you can just start spouting off a bunch of dumb shit. I’m mean, seriously, why would Rhett try to screw up an asset, an investment. I might not know the man well, but he didn’t become a billionaire by being stupid.”
“I’m serious,” Marty insisted. He put his hand on my shoulder and stared me in the eye. He was close, too close. “Don’t trust people so easily.”
“Whitney was working for Rhett, that’s probably all that was,” I explained. “Ace hasn’t done shit to fuck me over, except be a prick, and Caroline… well, she’s my own damn fault.”
I took a long swig of my beer and then ordered another round.
Marty continued telling me about his breakup and how the big guys in the league had something to do with it. “They were pushing me out,” he insisted.
“Do you have any proof of that?” I asked, feeling exhausted listening to his conspiracy theories.
“No, but that’s the point, they’re that good.”
Okay, so at that point, I felt like I was sitting next to a lunatic. Maybe he got into Ace’s stash of powder, or maybe he’d always been nutty, and I just didn’t realize it.
I rubbed my face with my hands. “Look, I could blame everything that’s happened to me on everyone else, but that’s not the case, I did it all to myself.”
Marty didn’t look convinced, but he drank his beer without arguing with me any further. “And this breakup you keep talking about,” I spouted, feeling Ace’s mean drunk channeling through me. “You never say my girl… was it a guy? Are you queer? Is that why you think everyone was out to get you?”
I could tell I hit a nerve and instantly felt like an asshole. “I’m sorry,” I said and dropped my face in my hands.
He got up and left me at the table. I finished my beer, left a good tip then headed home. I fucked up everything I touched these days.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Calvin
“Can I get you anything else?” the little blonde waitress asked. Her eyes were wide and her smile sweet. It was obvious she was flirting, but I learned my lesson about taking waitresses home from Home Plate. This was where I liked to drink, so no more one night stands with the staff.
“No, thanks, darling.” I sipped on my beer and stared at the two shots in front of me.
It felt odd to sit there alone; the booth somehow felt so much larger without Marty, Frank, or Ace squeezed in beside me. Tonight, it was just me.
Ace was out with Holly, which I hated. Why did he get to keep his girl when I lost mine? He didn’t even care about Holly, not really. I loved Whitney, still do. Marty was obviously still pissed at me, and Frank… well, he went wherever Marty went.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and looked at the three missed calls from Caroline and shoved it back in. That bitch wasn’t anywhere to be found when I had the worst game of my life, but now that I’m back on a winning streak, she seemed to just pop back up. Fuck her!
I slung one of the shots down, and then the second, no toast for either. If something bad was gonna happen as Ace always warned, I welcomed it. How much worse could it get?
“You’re Calvin Malone.” I looked up to see a beautiful brunette standing in front of my table.
“Yup, that’s me.” I sipped my beer, keeping my eyes on her face, not the curvy body I’d gotten a glimpse of. “You want an autograph or something?”
She just stood there grinning, but didn’t speak. It was getting a little uncomfortable. She finally slid into the booth next to me, her hand sliding up my thigh, stopping dangerously close to the family jewels. It was looking like she wanted much more than an autograph.
“I’m Heather,” she introduced herself like it mattered. I wasn’t planning on remembering her name in the morning.
“So, Heather,” I said coolly. “What exactly can I do for you?”
“You can start by buying me a drink,” she said. Cocky, I like it.
The little blonde that had been flirting with me earlier came up and took the drink order. Her eyes were angry, and she made it obvious that the brunette was stomping on territory she had previously claimed.
Heather turned out to be a wild cat, sliding her hand to my crotch and rubbing against my denim. It wasn’t enough to give her any satisfaction.
No woody for you, Heather. Sorry, you came into the game too late, I guess.
She wasn’t planning on giving up, that was obvious as she slid my hand up her skirt. The feel of a warm pussy against my fingers did create a twitch, but it wasn’t a home run. “Do you not think I’m sexy?” she asked after about four drinks and a dozen attempts to get my dick hard.