40. Chapter 37
Jax
Me: Congratulations man! We need to celebrate!
Rik: Yeah. Not gonna lie, it’s a relief. Are you holding up?
Me: Yeah. This last round is in the coach’s hands and I’m confident.
It’s a lie; I’m not confident, but I’m trying like hell to convince myself that I am, because while I know Horner has my back, I’m not sure I’m a player he will grant coach immunity to prior to coach negotiations and fan certification because the Moonshots have a deep bench of talented players I could see him wanting to keep.
I’ve also been radio silent with Horner, not wanting to sway him because he knows how stressed I am.
My phone buzzes again, only this time it’s not Rikki.
Oz: Shit man.
Me: It’s all good.
Oz: No it’s not. Don’t lie to me.
I laugh at how well he knows me.
Me: It’s going to be fine. If nothing else this is really fucking humbling.
Oz: You don’t need to be humbled. You’re the humblest motherfucker I know.
This also makes me laugh.
Oz: Mare’s pissed.
Me: We can all celebrate on FaceTime next weekend when this shit is over. Congratulate Rikki.
Oz: I already did.
Me: Good. I’ll call you next week.
I close my text with Ozzie and reopen the one with Rikki.
Me: Let’s go celebrate at Ruby’s. It will be good for the fans to see you excited.
Rik: Are you sure?
Me: Yeah, I’m excited for you.
Ruby made an exception to her retirement of bottle service and decided to serve us herself tonight. She said it feels weird handing the job over to anyone other than Mare. When Sloan walks in her smile brightens up the dark bar.
“This is extravagant,” she laughs. “I thought you were joking when you guys said Ruby rolled out the red rope for you last time.” She takes in the scene, and looking at it again, it is silly.
We’re tucked in the back corner of the bar with absolutely nothing but a red velvet rope on a gold stand setting us apart from the rest of the bar, including the table next to us that I could reach out and touch.
“This is her version of bottle service,” I joke.
“Rikki must be pretty special for her to take this on herself,” she suggests, and she’s not wrong.
“There are only two people in this town that Ruby will hang the moon for: Mare, and Rikki. He’s been coming here since he made the team, and they’ve developed quite the friendship. She cons him into doing all her handy work in exchange for free food.”
I point to the rafters above the bar. “He painted those beams and then drilled holes to feed the lights through—all for free crab cakes.”
“Don’t talk shit. They’re really good crab cakes,” he pipes in. “Plus, she’s a sweet old lady and I don’t want her getting hurt trying to do it herself, because let’s be honest, she is stubborn and would do that before paying someone.”
I decided last week that I can’t live with this stress anymore, so I’m not even going to tune into the live stream of Round 3. Sloan said she’d fill me in.
Instead, I’m planning a trip for the two of us. Once this draft is over, she will have a few weeks before she starts her new series, Mango Bay’s Hidden Gems, so it’s the perfect time for us to get away and have some time with just the two of us.
She’s been talking about wanting to go to a resort and relax, so I’m looking at all inclusive options in Mexico. It’s a short flight, and there are a few deals going on right now.
I start scrolling through different hotels, and decide that the one on my screen feels like a great time. It’s a smaller resort, which means less people to recognize us and swoon. While we haven’t officially announced that we’re together, we don’t hide it anymore—don’t have to.
This will be our first time away together, so the less people interfere the better. Plus this resort has a swim up bar, several restaurants—one being a sushi bar, and a Mexican restaurant that looks amazing. I plan every vacation around food.
I get it all bookmarked with everything loaded in my cart and start cooking dinner while I wait for Sloan to come over.
The idea of us wasting rent on two places when we stay together at one of them every night seems silly, but I haven’t brought it up in fear of spooking her.
Tanner made her really skittish when it comes to giving up any semblance of freedom—and I don’t blame her.
Once I have all the food pretty much ready, I open my computer back up and check one more time. I have the flights, resort reservations, and a couple’s massage all loaded in my cart and ready to click just as she walks in the door.
She looks at me with a soft smile, but it’s not her usual bright one, and I drop the spoon I’m stirring the pasta sauce with on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing over to her.
She’s trying really hard to hide her expression, and doing a terrible job of it.
Fuck. Round 3 wasn’t good.
“Sloan,” I say her name with urgency.
“Nothing. I really think you need to watch the recap on the Mango Land page.”
“No. You said you’d just tell me.”
“Jax. I can’t. You need to see it. I promise.” Her voice is a plea. “Please just watch it.” She hands me her phone and pushes play on the video already cued up on the phone.
For some reason it prompts me to look over at mine on the counter by my computer. I’ve forced myself to ignore it until she got home. A second later the screen flashes, and I see the little notification that I have 37 missed texts.
I look back at her, but she’s walking down the hall to the bathroom, but the sound of “Fireball” by Pitbull on her phone accompanied by an old video of the entire team dancing in the locker room before a game this last season steals my attention.
I remember that game. It was the first time the Moonshots won with a walk off, and I scored the winning run.
Suddenly Horner’s face appears and as they zoom out, you can see Sloan sitting next to him in the empty stands.
“I love this game,” he says with a broken smile.
“And I love the fans, but there’s one piece of the puzzle that none of this would be possible without, and that’s my players.
You see, I started Mango Ball out of nothing but a dream, and there are a few players who stuck it out with me blindly, never asking questions, doubting if this would work, and have been more than family to me through this journey.
And while there are a lot of players on my team I wish I could grant my immunity to, there really is only one person who blindly deserves it, and it was never a decision I had to make, I knew where it would fall the second the draft started.
Jax Calder is the face of Mango Bay, and I could never do this without him.
The second player I’m picking is because of him too.
I want someone who can grow in this game under his wing, so I’m also selecting Anderson Rodgers. ”
I immediately look at Sloan sitting next to him on the camera and she’s crying, and it makes my own eyes a little misty.
The next few seconds are surreal. I feel my body let go of weeks worth of tension.
It just melts away. I take a deep breath that hasn’t really been within reach, my shoulders unclinch, and warmth spreads through my chest. All the noise in my head is gone—vanishes.
I’m exactly where I’m meant to be, on and off the field.
I don’t even wait for the rest of the coach immunities to be announced, I’m too excited to finish it.
When she hears me turn the video off, she walks back out looking sheepish.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin it for you, and I thought you’d like to hear what Horner said.”
“Thanks, babe.” I wrap her in a hug when she gets close to me, and whisper in her ear, “I want us to go away for a week, just the two of us. I have a vacation to Mexico all planned, I just have to book it, if you’re in?”
“That sounds really fun. But I don’t think we should go alone.”
I lean back so I can see her face.
“I kind of invited Mare and Ozzie out here to celebrate with us, so maybe we can invite them to join us in Mexico instead?” Her words come out slow, but my response is immediate.
“Hell yeah we can.”