Chapter 28 Nate
TWENTY-EIGHT
nate
I barely made it to Cooper’s game for the National Anthem, but the smile on the kid’s face when he saw me there made fighting Boston traffic completely worth it.
Austin: Where the fuck are you?
Me: I had to run back to Lexington between the game and takeoff. Don’t worry, I’ll be there in time.
Austin: There’s no way you’ll get here with traffic.
Me: Make sure they know I’m headed back there, but it will be tight.
They won’t leave without me. The team’s private jet had been delayed for other players before. They’d wait.
Austin: They will leave without you.
I put my phone in my pocket and focused on Cooper. Leaning against the fence, I noticed I had the team moms’ attention. Shit. The ringleader was on her way over.
Before today, I had only been to one game, but I noticed how the other women assessed Olivia.
“Hey, you’re Nate Reeves, right?”
“I am,” I answered her while keeping my eye on the game, hoping that she’d take the hint.
“Are you and Olivia together?”
“What?” The question threw me, because anyone with a set of working eyes would know that Olivia was so far out of my league.
“You’ve been here with Cooper a couple of times. Actually, we’ve seen you more than we’ve seen his dad. Just figured there might be a story.”
“Oh, no, ma’am.” I purposely used the Southern term of respect, fully knowing that it would hit like a bomb outside of Boston. Yup. She bristled. Bless your fucking heart, lady. Now go right the fuck back to the rest of the vipers.
“Call me Maddy,” she said, holding out her hand to shake. Fuck, what the hell did I need to do to get this woman to leave me alone? And just as I was about to get sucked into a conversation with her fully, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Thank Christ.
“Hey, Marty,” I said, purposely messing up her name. “I have to take this.”
Olivia: How is he doing?
Me: He looks great in the field. Hasn’t batted yet. You forgot to warn me about the vipers.
Olivia: Sorry. They usually stay away from me. Something about my being single makes them avoid me like the plague. I’m not sad about it.
Me: She asked if we were together. I told her we were just fucking.
Olivia: Shush, you. That’s not even funny. The phone tree would be lighting up, and the whole town would know.
I re-pocketed my phone when Cooper came up to bat.
Both batters in front of him had reached base and were on first and second.
He took the first strike, and I agreed with his decision.
When he swung at the next ball and pulled it into the gap in left field, I couldn’t hold back my cheers. His double scored two RBIs.
Me: Your boy should make you proud—two RBIs on a double.
Olivia: Damn! I’ll be sure to get him some ice cream later.
Olivia: I know it’s tight for you. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes to trade off.
When Olivia arrived, I forced myself not to stare. She’d dressed for work, and while professional, it only enhanced how fucking gorgeous she was. Mindful of the watchful gaze of the vipers, I kept my eyes on the game and faced forward while updating her.
“The game is tied and likely going into extra innings.”
“You’ve gotta run,” she said.
“I can’t go yet. It’s not like they’re gonna leave without me.”
“Okay.”
When Cooper’s team pulled ahead, I stayed until the final out and jetted. When I plugged Logan Airport into the GPS on my newly leased vehicle, the arrival time was 8:15 pm. What the fuck? I should be no more than forty minutes away.
Throughout the entire ride in bumper-to-bumper traffic, I repeated to myself that they weren’t going to leave without me.
I pulled into the parking garage, grabbed the ticket and my carry-on bag, and headed to the charter entrance.
I looked up just in time to see the private jet with the Minutemen logo taking off.
They left without me.
I only then found the time to look at my phone, the one I had yet to pair with my new car, because I was a fucking idiot when it came to technology.
Austin: Where the fuck are you?
Coach: You’ve got five more minutes, and we’re leaving.
Austin: Come on! Pick up the goddamn phone. You realize I’m responsible for you.
Fuck! Yeah, Austin, you’re my babysitter. Thanks for the reminder that I’m only a fucking kid to you.
Coach: You better figure out how to get your own ass to California.
Me: I’ll be there—sorry, Coach.
I looked at the phone in my hand, knowing that with it I could book a flight, but I had not an ounce of a clue how to do it.
I dialed the phone and listened to it ring.
“Hello?” There was a ton of background noise; it sounded like ten-year-old boys were surrounding Liv.
“Liv?”
“Did they leave without you?”
“Yup.”
“What do you need?”
“I have no fucking clue how to function, Liv. I have to get to Los Angeles by 3:00 pm tomorrow, and I can’t even book my own flight.”
“Hey, hey, easy on yourself. Have you ever needed to book a flight?”
“No—”
“I’m guessing you didn’t travel much as a kid?”
“Nope.”
“I got you. Before I got my real estate license, I was a travel agent. Can you send me a photo of your credit card?”
“Yeah.”
I found a countertop where I could lean and pull out my wallet. I snapped a photo and sent it to her.
“Okay. I’ll call you back soon. Why don’t you find a place to grab some food? You must be starved.”
God, her voice fucking soothed me. She didn’t make me feel like an ass; she just stepped in and helped.
The flight tickets came through via e-mail a minute before her number appeared on the phone.
“Hey, you’re going to need to move it, but I got you on a connecting flight through Charlotte. It’s a pretty big airport, and the connection is tight, so I added the airport map, and I’ll keep an eye out for any gate changes while you’re in the air. I’ll send you everything you need, okay?”
“Thanks for saving my ass, Liv.”
“That’s what friends are for.”