Chapter Nine
Fifteen minutes later, Ashton stood in the lobby with the rest of the team.
She’d done her best to clean up, trading out her Western University polo for a white oxford, paired with dark jeans and white sneakers.
She’d dropped the ponytail and let her hair’s natural waviness take hold.
From a casual look around the lobby, everyone else chose to spruce up a little as well—jeans with long-sleeve shirts of various colors and a variety of logos.
“Where’s Razor?” Summer bellowed impatiently.
“You’re her roommate,” Tori said. “Wasn’t she up there when you changed clothes?”
“No. She wasn’t.”
As if summoned, Razor strolled out of the elevator, sporting her usual dark green cargo pants with a black Henley instead of gray.
She’d tamed her hair to push the dark strands behind her ears.
The style, plus the snug fit of her clothing, made her look sexy.
Ashton was never more thankful for the loud, reverberant lobby than at that moment, to cover up the sound of any wolf whistles or the like provoked by Razor’s sensual figure.
“Ladies, if you will please join me out front. Our chariot awaits.” Razor skipped over and bowed elegantly in the direction of the revolving lobby door.
“We ride in chariots now?” Emery quipped.
“Yes, and it’s waiting out front, so we need to hurry.”
She shooed them toward the exit, but Summer didn’t budge.
“Where are we going?”
Razor sighed, obviously irritated. “It’s a surprise.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“One you’ll have to get into the van to find out.”
Summer acquiesced, but not without grumbling. “Whatever. This day’s already crappy, what’s a little more.”
As everyone finally moved out, Ashton sidled up to Razor and they moved toward the door together.
“Okay, seriously, what’s going on?”
“I’ve arranged a little field trip for us.”
Ashton abruptly stopped. “Razor, you can’t just take these girls out. You need a chaperone and permission.”
“I have a chaperone. You.”
“Me?”
“Yes. That’s why I sent you the text.”
She crossed her arms. “And who gave you permission?”
“Courtney did.” She must’ve sensed Ashton’s apprehension because she closed the distance between them and whispered, “Look. The last two days have been all-around shitty. I just thought we could use some fun, blow off some steam. And…maybe learn a little more about each other.”
Ashton gulped. Her heartbeat picked up at the unintentional intimacy of Razor’s voice. “Really?”
Razor nodded. “You remember when we played together? How Geoff held that big barbecue at his place so we could all meet each other?”
Ashton’s mouth twitched. She knew exactly what Razor was talking about.
Geoff, their old coach, employed a lot of team activities to build trust among the players and coaches, and they worked well.
Sometimes too well. Especially when it emboldened a young catcher.
“Yeah. I believe that’s where you were brazen enough to ask me out. ”
“And you were brazen enough to turn me down.”
Ashton gaped in horror, which earned her a coy wink.
“Well,” Razor continued, “that was an important meeting because it allowed me to spend time with the team and get to know everyone.”
“Courtney did team activities in the fall and over winter break.”
“But I wasn’t there,” Razor reminded her. “I met these girls a few weeks ago, and I don’t know a thing about them. I want to be a good teammate. I want to trust my team, and in return, I want them to trust me.”
“And you really think taking them out is going to achieve that?” Ashton asked.
Razor shrugged. “Definitely couldn’t hurt. Worst case, we go out, blow off some steam, and return to Jonesboro with a zero in the win column. Best case, we learn about each other, and we come out tomorrow on fire.”
Ashton turned and looked at the van full of women and smiled. Razor had a point. They needed this outing.
“So, will you be our chaperone? I promise, nothing illegal. Hopefully, just a lotta fun.”
Ashton cocked her head at the pleading, gorgeous brown eyes and surrendered.
“Okay, let’s go.”
She relaxed into the soft touch at the small of her back and allowed herself to be led into the unknown.
* * *
Razor hopped out of the van and stood in front of the Dave & Buster’s sign.
She waited for everyone to catch up, then swung the doors wide.
Their senses were immediately assaulted from all directions.
Cheers from bar patrons erupted to their left.
High-pitched notes combined with colorful lights played continuously on their right.
“What are we doing here?” Emery asked.
“You’ll see.”
Razor strutted over to the help desk, gave her name, and was handed five cards. She didn’t miss Ashton’s doubtful expression peeking out from behind the group, but they were here, and she hoped her plan was a success.
“Enough of the cloak-and-dagger routine. Why are we here?” Summer demanded.
“This”—Razor gestured widely to the gaming floor—“is your intervention.”
Confused gazes stared back at her.
“In psychology, an intervention is a group activity designed for people to work together to reach a common goal.”
“And what goal is that?” Emery asked.
“To trust each other.”
She passed out the cards, giving one to every other person.
“Each of these cards contains twenty dollars’ worth of credits. Everyone is going to pair up. One card, two people. We’re going to have a competition.”
“I think I’ve had enough competition for one day,” Harper said.
Tori chuckled. “What competition? You didn’t even play.”
“Yeah,” Sabrina agreed.
Everyone laughed, and Harper blushed.
“Hey!” Razor shouted, to be heard above the noise. “Everyone shut up. Comments like that are part of the reason why this intervention is necessary.”
Tori crossed her arms. “What do you mean?”
“You are—” Razor caught herself. “No, we are great players. But we’re not a great team yet.”
Razor looked up and caught a small nod of approval from Ashton.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Summer muttered.
Doubt clouded everyone’s face. Razor had minimal time before this whole thing was a bust before it began, so she went straight into action.
“Tory, when is Hannah’s birthday?”
Tori fidgeted but answered the question. “May twenty-fifth.”
“What’s her favorite color?”
“Blue?”
“Where is she from?”
“Savannah, Georgia.”
“Tell me something that you wouldn’t know about her unless she specifically told you.”
“She has a tattoo of the Chinese character for joy on her hip.”
“And you know all this because…?”
“Duh. She’s my best friend.”
“Good. Now, what can you tell me about Harper? Or Summer? Or Sabrina?”
Tori gaped. “I don’t know much about any of them.”
“And that’s my point.”
“What point?” Summer protested. “Just because Tori doesn’t know my favorite color, we’ll lose?”
“No,” Razor said. “Tori knows everything about Hannah because Hannah trusts her. When you know your teammates, and they know you, you trust them completely. What I saw on the field today was not trust. There was plenty of desperation and frustration, but no unity.”
Dire looks gave Razor pause. Ashton smiled at her through the throng of players and gave her a thumbs-up.
“We’re going to pair off, and for twenty minutes, you’ll compete against each other.”
“Let me guess?” Summer asked. “The loser has to tell something about themselves?”
Razor made a buzzer noise. “Wrong! The winner will have to answer one question from the loser.”
“Why does the loser get to the ask the question?” Emery asked.
“Because the winner wins the game. The loser has to have some kind of reward.”
The light came on in their eyes as the excitement of competition took hold.
“You all have your cards. Grab a partner, and get to know each other.”
Everyone paired off, then disappeared into the gaming area. Everyone except Summer. With a huge eye roll, she snatched the card from Razor and walked away. Razor turned to follow but was stopped by a light tap on her shoulder.
“Nice job there,” Ashton said, the praise clear in her voice. “Do you think it’ll work?”
Razor looked over at Summer. “We’ll see.”
“I’ll go grab us a table.”
Razor stumbled after her. “Wait. You’re not going to play? No burning questions to ask?”
“I’ll ask my questions at a later time.”
Ashton grinned and strutted toward the bar. Razor chuckled and admired the swaying hips. Jeans did look good on her.
“Hey,” Summer called. “If you’re done ogling our coach, I’d like to get this over with.”
Razor heaved a sigh and mentally prepared herself for a challenge. When she saw Summer’s game of choice, she knew it wasn’t going to be a problem.
“Are you any good at basketball?” Razor asked.
Summer nodded, a mischievous grin on her face. “I used to play at the arcade. My dad said shooting a basketball would help me exercise all the muscles in my arm, minimizing injury.”
“Your dad is a smart man.”
“Yes, he is.”
Was that compassion in Summer’s tone? Razor had never heard it before.
“Let’s go, Granny.”
She feigned hurt then laughed uproariously. “Oh, we’re definitely playing.”
She pressed start for the two-player option. The metal gate dropped, and little basketballs tumbled down the ramp. They started shooting.
The hoop moved back and forth, from two-point to three-point range. Summer drained a couple of three pointers, then struggled to find the rim. Razor took advantage and sank four in a row. By the time the buzzer sounded, Razor won by three points.
“Well done.”
Summer hugged her torso as she leaned against the machine. “That means I get to ask you a question, right?”
Razor nodded, knowing what was coming before Summer opened her mouth.
“Why did you abandon your team in San Diego?”
“I didn’t abandon my team.”
“What do you call leaving in the middle of the night without warning?”
Razor ground her teeth together. Summer didn’t know about Gary, which was a relief because she didn’t need to be subjected to that kind of evil, but avoiding the question or giving a short reply wasn’t going to cut it.
She wanted the truth. And if giving it meant Razor could break through the barrier between them, she’d tell Summer the truth.
At least, a portion of it. The other reason why she left.
“Is there someone in your life you’d drop everything for if anything ever happened to them?”
Summer’s icy stare melted. “My dad.”
“Mine was my mother. She was the strongest person I knew. She had to be because she raised me all by herself.”
“No dad?”
Razor shook her head. “Took off before I was born. But my mom never said a negative word against him.”
“Wow.”
“I was so lucky to have her. My second year at San Diego State, she went to the doctor and discovered she had stage four ovarian cancer. By the time my junior year rolled around, we had exhausted every avenue to prolong her life. That fall, she took a turn for the worse, and I made the choice to leave school to be with her.”
Summer dropped her arms and sighed. “Was it a hard decision to make?”
“Absolutely not. My mother was all I had, and I wanted to be with her. She was more important to me than a game. A couple of years later, when I moved past the grief of her loss, I realized some people viewed my decision to leave school as selfish, especially since my reason wasn’t widely known.
A lot of people counted on me. Had expectations of me. But she needed me more.”
Summer’s face saddened. “When did she die?”
“Two weeks after I left school.”
They stayed quiet for a moment, taking in the activity around them. When Summer spoke again, her voice was gravelly with emotion.
“I’m sorry I’ve been such a jerk.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just…I have a hard time trusting people.”
Razor waited silently, her eyes meeting Summer’s, prompting Summer to continue.
“My mother died not long after I was born. And when I was growing up, it wasn’t uncommon for my dad to date and bring women home. They would stay long enough for me to get attached, and then all of sudden they would be gone, and I’d never hear from them again.”
Razor imagined a small girl with auburn curls, tears streaking her cheeks as another person she cared for left.
Razor took a guess at where this was going.
She said, “Then you get to college, you think you’ve found a team, a place where people don’t leave.
But someone did.” Summer nodded. “Were you close with Taylor?”
“She was like my big sister.”
“And then she got kicked out, and here I come strolling in with my awesome charm, dashing good looks—”
“Not to mention smart-ass attitude.”
They chuckled.
“That, too. And I’m only here for the season.”
“I don’t want to get attached to someone else that’s going to leave.”
Razor pushed off the machine and grabbed Summer’s shoulders. “But that’s the beauty of this game. Softball is family, no matter where you go or what team you play on. Taylor didn’t understand that, but I do. You’re not going to lose me.”
“Do you keep in touch with your old teammates?”
Razor tensed. “Not as much as I should.”
The tears in Summer’s eyes started to fall. “I want to believe you. When you say you’ll always be there for me, I want to believe that.”
“Then believe in me. And believe in them.”
Razor inclined her head and noticed her teammates spread across the gaming floor. Some were laughing, some looked contemplative, and a couple even looked a little emotional. While the results of this trip were still inconclusive, Razor swelled with pride at the possibilities.
“We are your family now, Summer. Your teammates, your coaches…and me. Now and forever. Think you can handle that?”
“I think it’d be awesome.”
Razor wrapped her arm around Summer’s shoulders. Relief washed over her when it wasn’t shrugged away.
“I’m glad you trusted me to confide how you were feeling.”
Summer pushed her hair behind her ear. “Me, too. Feels good not to be angry at you.”
“Same. Wanna play another game?”
Summer’s eyes twinkled as she pulled out of the light grasp. “Absolutely, because I plan to kick your ass at Skee-ball.”
Summer sprinted away, leaving Razor no choice but to chase after her and accept the challenge.