Chapter Twelve
The bus was rockin’ as Megan Thee Stallion blared from the Bluetooth speaker.
Ashton chuckled. Music from an empowered female artist fit the occasion because they felt empowered.
Players danced in the aisles and slapped high-fives.
The losses of the previous two days were a distant memory as they headed back to Jonesboro with two wins.
Game two wasn’t without its share of drama.
They were well on their way to a run-rule victory when Razor asked to be subbed out for Harper in the third inning.
At first, it was a smooth transition. Harper caught every pitch, blocked every ball in the dirt, and threw out a would-be base stealer at second.
In the fifth inning, though, things started to go sideways.
Nancy had called for an off-speed pitch, but Summer threw a fastball.
The next pitch resulted in another missed sign.
“Totally my fault,” Harper admitted when they’d entered the dugout. “I misread the code on the card.”
“Yeah,” Summer agreed. And the matter was dropped. Ashton was certain the girls were lying. The glare from Nancy said she thought so as well, and she made her feelings known on the bus ride back to Jonesboro.
“Even if Harper missed the sign, Summer’s been doing this long enough she should’ve pitched what had been called.”
Frustration built inside Ashton. She’d hoped to get some reading done, but Nancy wouldn’t stop venting.
“Maybe Summer misread the numbers on her card. Maybe she knew Harper missed the sign and didn’t want her to get in trouble,” Ashton said. “I know you don’t believe their story, but Courtney does. Their actions didn’t affect the outcome of the game, and we won. End of story.”
Nancy groused and rubbed her head. “You’re right. I know you’re right. This weekend could’ve ended drastically different, but we were able to establish some wins and gain some momentum heading into the season.”
“Exactly.”
Nancy blew out a long breath, but her body language was still tense. Finally, she stood and moved out into the aisle. “I’m going to finish up my paperwork. Thanks for listening to me vent. I’ll leave you to your research now.”
Ashton watched and waited until Nancy sat two rows ahead of her before pulling out her articles and settling into it for the rest of the trip. She got about an hour’s peace before someone else plopped down in the seat beside her.
“Hey,” Razor whispered.
“Hey yourself. What’s up?”
Razor looked around suspiciously, causing Ashton to do the same.
“What’s going on?”
Razor leaned in close, a mild scent of coconut dancing across her skin. Ashton stopped herself from breathing too deeply and focused on what she said.
“I need to tell you something, but you need to promise me that you won’t tell anyone. Especially Nancy.”
Ashton narrowed her eyes. “I can’t make that promise if it involves a player.”
Razor winced. “I understand, but if you tell Nancy, I’m afraid of what she’ll do to them when she finds out.”
Them? Ashton wasn’t expecting a them.
“What’s happened?”
Razor tilted her head toward the back of the bus. Ashton followed her direction and saw Harper and Summer sporting worried expressions. “Harper didn’t misinterpret the cards. They ignored Nancy’s calls intentionally.”
Ashton glared menacingly to the back of the bus. “How do you know this?”
“They just told me. Harper said Summer was frustrated with all the off-speed pitch calls, so they ignored her.”
“What the hell were they thinking?”
“I have a theory.” When Razor paused, Ashton motioned for her to continue. “I noticed in game one Nancy went heavy-handed on Summer’s changeup. I think it was her revenge for last night’s field trip.”
Ashton looked in Nancy’s direction. “We have to tell her the truth. She already suspects something.”
“You saw how upset she got this morning when she found out about our little trip. What do you think her reaction will be when she finds out Summer and Harper not only lied but blatantly disregarded her directions?”
Razor was right. Nancy would bring her full wrath down on Summer and Harper.
“What do you propose we do, then?” Ashton asked.
“Talk to Summer and Harper. Give them a punishment you feel is worthy of their deceit that doesn’t draw the attention of Nancy or Courtney. Then let them know if they ever do it again, you will tell the coaches, and the consequences will be much harsher.”
Ashton blew out a long breath. “If I do this, they have to promise this will never happen again.”
Razor held up her right hand and put her left over her heart. “On their behalf, I promise, this won’t happen again.”
“I’ll talk to them privately, once we get back to Jonesboro.”
“Thank you.”
Razor’s lips pressed lightly against her cheek. The kiss was quick, but the sear lingered after Razor, wide-eyed with the realization of what she’d done, jumped up and left without another word. Ashton caressed her cheek as heat climbed up her neck.
“Coach Sharpe, are you okay?”
She looked up into Tori’s concerned gaze.
“Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“You have a pen mark on your face.”
Ashton brushed her hand across her cheek and came away with a black smudge. She glanced at her other hand and noticed the pen.
“Dammit.”
She pulled a compact from her bag and saw the short streak of ink across her cheek.
She grabbed some Kleenex and rubbed vigorously, but as she focused more on the spot right above the mark—a spot bright pink and still warm from Razor’s lips—she smiled.
While the kiss was unplanned and unintentional, it was sweet and endearing.
Ashton chuckled, looked at the mark again in the mirror, then threw the mirror and the tissue back in her bag. The mark could stay…for now.