20. Nico
twenty
Nico
With one out in the top of the ninth, the man on first base takes a generous lead off the bag and stares at me dead to right. Cocky bastard.
Guy Fernandez is Arizona’s rookie, and the kid is known for taking big risks and stealing bases.
He’s good, and his stats prove it. He’s an incredibly successful baserunner.
But the kid has met his match. Fernandez thinks that because I’m getting older—by baseball standards—that I’m slower and he can steal on me now.
Not gonna fucking happen.
With a sly look over his shoulder, Cam notices the lead and hand signals the play. He wants to pick the guy off as badly as I do. Teach these young bucks a thing or two about the game.
Loudly popping my cinnamon gum, so as not to give away my next move, I return a hand signal to Cam, and I adjust my squat as I signal Heath on second. The three of us are ready for the play to begin.
Cam winds up and throws a roaring inside fastball at the left-handed batter, who swings and misses.
Strike fucking three. That’s two outs, baby.
Without skipping a beat, I grab the ball from my glove and fire it at a waiting Heath. Fernandez slides, but he’s not fast enough for the rocket I threw at Heath, who is already there with the ball in his glove. He tags the runner, and the infield umpire holds up a fist, calling him out.
And that’s three.
I love silent plays like this, where I’m in sync with my teammates and all we need are hand signals. Don’t get me wrong, PitchSpeak—a tiny little device that allows catchers and pitchers to communicate—is handy as fuck. But nothing beats a classic.
The crowd agrees as they erupt into ruckus cheers. That play closed out the inning and ended the game. This win keeps the Evaders at the top of the league in our division.
I’m taking off my gear and riding high on our win when it hits me. Tonight was our last home game. We hit the road for a week tomorrow.
Fucking hell.
I chuck my glove onto the bench and sit down. I finally made some progress with getting Savannah to see me in a different light, and now it’s all going to go to shit.
She wanted me to kiss her last night. I felt it when she leaned into me, closed her eyes, and parted her lips. I was so fucking close until her phone started ringing. She ran out of my apartment like her ass was on fire.
It was disappointing after I had worked so fucking hard to get Savannah to lower her walls and let me in during dinner. Whoever called freaked her out, and I could see her building those walls back up, brick by brick.
“Where’s your head, Romero?”
Tugging my gear off, I look over to find Heath sitting beside me.
“Just thinking.” I place the kneepads and chest protector in my bag for the ball boy to lug back to the locker room.
“I used to do a lot of thinking too.” He winks at me, so I punch him in the thigh.
“Fuck off.” I leave him laughing on the bench, but he catches up to me easily.
“So, you weren’t sitting over there thinking about a girl?”
“I didn’t know you were such a nosy fuck,” I grumble.
The problem with becoming friends with your teammates is they want to know all your business.
Heath has another hearty laugh at my expense. “I’m not. But there was a vote, and I lost.”
“Bunch of Chatty Cathies,” I mumble. As I walk into the locker room with Heath, all the guys look away. Their guilty faces refuse to meet me in the eye. “Whose idea? Miller?”
“Hell no. Miller voted to stay the fuck out of your business. Also, he doesn’t want to know anything because he can’t keep secrets from little Romero.”
“Smart man.” I knew I was starting to like my brother-in-law for a reason. I glance at the guys, each trying to keep a straight face. “Let me guess, McKay?”
“Bingo.” He snaps his fingers.
“Figures.” McKay is one of the nosiest motherfuckers on the team. He’s been giving me grief for being MIA the last few times the guys have gone out.
“Just throw them a bone.” Heath slaps me on the back.
I’ll throw them all right.
I grab a towel out of the laundry cart and give it a few tight spins. As McKay bends over, I whip the towel, hitting him right in the ass. The crack is loud, and I know I got him good.
Reed jumps, knocking his head on the shelf in his locker. “Ow, what the fuck!”
“Stay out of my business, you nosy dick.” I flick the towel, this time hitting him on the upper thigh, close to the goods.
“Ow, fuck. Quit it.”
I whip him again. Closer.
Reed covers his dick with his hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay out of your business.”
“Good.” I chuck the towel into the bin.
“Told you.” Cam shakes his head.
Blake crows with laughter. “That’s going to leave a mark.”
Reed frowns as he rubs his ass, and then his thigh. “Seriously, you’re not going to tell us what’s up?”
“And that’s my cue. See you boys tomorrow.” In his uniform, Cam grabs his bag and, without a backward glance, exits the locker room and makes a left towards the parking lot. He and my sister are still in the honeymoon phase.
Bile rises in my throat thinking about that big bastard defiling my sister.
I shake my head clear and continue to ignore Reed, who is clearly waiting for me to braid his hair and tell him my secrets.
I don’t even know what the fuck is going on with me, so why in hell would I talk to him about it?
Stripping out of my uniform, I then wrap a towel around my waist and head for the showers. Blake follows and leans against the tile of the shower as I get cleaned up.
“So, what’s the deal? You coming out tonight or what?
” Blake tosses a handful of sunflower seeds into his mouth.
I like my spicy cinnamon gum; Blake chomps on his salty seeds.
We all have our idiosyncrasies and rituals during games.
I just think his tradition is more disgusting than wearing dirty old socks.
“Where are you guys going?” As much as I want to rush home and catch a glimpse of Savannah, I need to figure out my next steps. I can’t keep the water off in her apartment for another day without it being suspicious, so I’m back to square one.
“The Clubhouse. Chill night. Burgers and beers,” he answers.
For decades, The Clubhouse has been the Evaders’ unofficial team bar. The walls are covered with Evaders’ memorabilia. It has a 1950s vibe with red leather booths and a black-and-white checkered floor.
After early games, like tonight, the owners clear out the bar for the players to eat and drink without being swarmed by fans and cleat chasers. It’s strictly invite-only.
“I could go for a burger.”
Who knows? Maybe inspiration will strike me while I’m out with the guys.
Shaking my head at my teammates, I grab the mug of beer in front of me and take another sip. The cool liquid is refreshing and just what I needed after tonight’s win.
Inspiration on how to win over Savannah hasn’t come to me yet, but I’m having fun hanging out with the guys. Reed and Blake are regaling me, Lance, and Heath with the details of their night at Catch 22.
Apparently, they met some hot professional dancers, who were on tour with Callie Wright, but didn’t get their numbers. Now Reed’s a little butthurt about it. Idiot.
I chuckle to myself, knowing full well Cam could easily get that information. Callie is Cam’s sister-in-law.
“Dude, let it go. There will be new chicks next time.” Blake wiggles his brows at me and Lance. We are sitting across from him and Reed. “You know what I love the most about that place?”
“The floating glass dance floor?” Heath chuckles as he pulls out the chair beside me and sits down, having just arrived.
“No, you pervert. I don’t need to look up a chick’s dress without her permission. Ladies willingly let me do that.” Blake looks around the bar as if he’s trying to work out a math problem. “Where the hell did you come from anyway?”
Heath is a recent addition to the group. When Cam was sneaking around with Talia behind my back, he and Heath grew close at team dinners. I like Heath. He’s a little older. He’s got a wicked sense of humor and loves keeping the young bucks in line.
“Just got here. Had to pick up the wifey.” A server drops a beer in front of Heath, and he takes a sip.
The owners take such good care of us. I love it here. Our burgers and beers were on the table as soon as we sat down.
“Seriously? It’s supposed to be guys’ night,” Blake whines like a toddler as Heath’s wife appears at our table.
Heath cuffs him on the back of head. “Show some respect.”
“No hitting the children, H.” Heath’s wife, Grace, grins at him and plants a kiss on his cheek as he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her onto his lap.
Heath nuzzles into Grace’s neck, and something that feels an awful lot like jealousy claws at my insides.
Not because I want Heath’s girl. Don’t get me wrong, she’s gorgeous—blonde hair, blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, typical California girl—but she’s not the reason I’m jealous.
I’m jealous because, for the first time in my life, I want that attention and affection with someone.
Not just anyone. Savannah.
I want Savannah to hiss and swat at me like a feral kitten so I can tie her hands behind her back and fuck her into orgasmic submission.
My cock jerks in my jeans in agreement. Like the psycho I’ve become, I glance at my phone and double-check the security cameras in the parking garage. There’s still no sign of Savannah. She’s probably working the late shift.
“Hi, guys.”
“Hey,” we all reply flatly, and Heath glares at us as Grace pats his chest.
Lance has more manners, but he knows Heath and Grace better than I do. He tips his chin and greets her. “Hey, Gracie. How are you tonight?”
“I’m good. Thank you for asking, Lance.”
“Good to hear.”
Grace makes eye contact with the rest of us. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys tonight. My bestie canceled on me last minute.”
“Don’t thank them. They have no say.” Heath tickles Grace’s side, and she giggles.
I look away, not sure if I’m uncomfortable with their easy affection or the fact that I want what they have.
“Is your bestie as hot as you are?” Blake asks, and Heath growls. Blake throws his hands up in surrender. “Chill, bro. I don’t want your girl.”
Grace takes a bite of Heath’s French fry. “She’s gorgeous and sweet like the cupcakes she bakes. And totally taken, so don’t get any ideas.”
“Worth a shot.” Blake shrugs, chugging the last of his drink.
I stick around and chat with the group for a little while longer before excusing myself. As much as I enjoy hanging out with everyone, there’s a fiery woman who lives next door that I’m itching to see.