Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
HARLEY
“That looked nice,” I say with some sort of accent that I randomly talk in when I’m with my friends. “Reeeal nice.”
Even moving as much as I am right now and wearing a long-sleeved shirt under my uniform, I’m a little chilly.
It’s the last outside scrimmage of the fall, and the weather is for sure starting to change.
But that’s how autumns in New England roll in, practically all at once.
One day, you’re wearing your T-shirt with your Birks, sipping an iced coffee.
The next, you’re in a fleece, with thick socks, boots, and a beanie on.
Only, in my case, I sip iced coffee year-round.
Gigi pushes her visor up slightly and smiles, though it’s small. We’re about to play a game, and one thing about Gigi? She’s intense. Hence why I’m using my incredibly annoying accent to try to loosen her up a bit.
I’m as serious as anyone when it comes to this game, but at the end of the day, if it isn’t fun, then why would I continue playing?
For me, it is fun. Maybe that’s because I’ve never had to take the field for anyone other than myself.
Since I was a kid, when I stepped onto it, I was there for myself.
My parents wanted me to try my best, sure. But they’ve never lived through me.
I’m not sure Gigi can say that.
When she doesn’t fire it right back at me and instead stands there with her shoulders hanging down, I stand up and walk toward her.
“Hey,” I say, flipping my helmet up and putting my hand on her shoulder. “You all good?”
She inhales slowly. “I just feel like …” She stops, sighing. “I don’t know, Harley.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Like I don’t belong here. At a D1 school, being a starting pitcher.” Her voice grows hoarse. “Like I’ve peaked. The past few weeks, I’ve been losing my edge.”
I know how she feels because sometimes, I feel the same way.
Some days, I wonder how I’ve convinced so many people that I’m the great catcher they think I am.
But other days, I know I’m the player they chalked me up to be because I’ve worked for it.
It’s not like it happened overnight or was handed to me either.
“Gigi,” I whisper, gripping her shoulder tighter, “I have caught for many, many pitchers. Some great, some decent, and some really freaking awful. I can promise you, you are exactly where you belong. You are every bit worthy of that uniform. And every single time you step on that mound, everyone watching knows it too.”
Without warning, I throw my arms around her, pulling her slender body against mine. For being as strong as she is, there isn’t a whole lot to her.
“Do you mean that, Meadows?” She sniffles. “Like, for real?”
“Hell yes, I do.” I nod, knowing my helmet is pushing up against her visor and it’s probably ruining her smooth ponytail.
“I promise you, when I say something, I mean it.” Rearing my head back, I keep my hands on her shoulders while I look her in the eye.
“You, Gigi Jacobs, are the real deal. And when you step onto the mound in a little bit, you need to believe that.”
She nods slowly, doing her best to fight her emotions.
“Thank you,” she whispers before wiping her eyes. “We’d better finish warming up before Coach has our asses.”
“For sure.” I giggle, patting her on the back before I turn and jog back to my spot.
Kneeling, I pull my helmet down and hold my glove out.
“All right, Pitch. Show me what you’ve got.” I grin. “And don’t hold back either.”
In the bottom of the final inning, we’re only up by one run with our turn on defense, and of course, my blood sugar decides it’s a good time to dip. Not only that, but I slid into home plate a little too aggressively and ripped my Omnipod almost completely off.
“Meadows,” my coach says, coming beside me in the dugout with the athletic trainer next to her. “How are you doing?”
“I think you both already know,” I say, sighing before grabbing the bag of my medical supplies from the side pocket of my catcher’s bag. “I’m sorry, Coach. I just … my mind feels off. And even though this is a scrimmage, I don’t want to be the one to make an error that causes us to lose.”
She looks at me knowingly before she pats my arm. “You played a damn good game, Harley. Not one passed ball, and even though Gigi pitched great, your framing certainly earned her some more strikes.” She stops, looking at me again. “Be proud of yourself, okay?”
I know why she’s saying all of this to me. She knows that as cool as I am with my diabetes, I really hate when it affects softball. But when she walks away and tells Kira to suit up, I know it’ll all be fine. She may be a year behind me, but she’s a great catcher.
Reading my blood sugar levels on the screen before me, I grab some Skittles to bring my levels back in check.
Then, I quit moping and cheer my team on and watch them win this scrimmage. And even though I’m so proud of how well Kira did this inning … I wish it could have been me out there to start and finish the game.
CANE
In the final inning of the girls’ game, a switch in the catcher makes me realize that Harley must have had something happen because she was playing a-fucking-mazingly the entire time.
And as I stand there along the fence with Cash beside me, who’s been asking why the hell we’re here, I am mesmerized by her.
“So, first, Harley Meadows bids on you at the auction. And now you’re creeping on her at her game,” Cash mutters beside me. “You really like her, huh?”
“Shut up,” I grumble as the two teams shake hands. “We’re just friends, asshole.”
“Yeah, but when did that even happen?” My brother sounds genuinely confused. “Also, I’m kind of surprised, to be honest”—he pauses—“that Harland Meadows would even be your friend.”
“Everyone calls her Harley, Cash.” I side-glance him, not wanting him to use her full name because for some reason, I like to be the only one who calls her by it.
“And why are you surprised? I’m a baseball player.
She’s a softball player—a really good one.
We both work hard for our team. I mean, why wouldn’t we be friends? ”
He’s silent before he chuckles so quietly that I barely catch it.
“Well, let’s see … because from what I’ve heard, that girl doesn’t drink.
She doesn’t party. Hell, she doesn’t even hook up.
” He shrugs. “And you? Well, you just got your ass suspended for a few days for literally driving out of your way to fuck up another team’s dugout.
Even though I still don’t think you did it. But either way, I’m letting it go.”
I hate lying to my brother, but there’s no sense in coming clean now. Then again, I’m lying even more now because I told him Harley and I were friends when, in reality, that girl is only my friend because I’m paying for her medication.
For now anyway. Once she gets to know me, she’ll want to be my real friend.
Hopefully more too.
“Whatever,” I mutter, shaking him off.
I continue to stand along the fence, but then he stands in front of me.
“Are we going to go now so that I can get to practice or …”
Pulling my phone out, I frown. “Cash, your practice doesn’t even start for nearly two hours. I don’t know if you realize this, but you don’t always have to get to the arena so early.”
He glares at me, though he’s not actually mad, I’m sure. Cash lives for hockey. And while I dedicate myself to the baseball program here at NEU and try always to give one hundred percent, even I’m not the guy showing up an hour early to practice.
He looks at me before glancing behind himself.
“Oh, I get it. You want to hang around and tell this friend of yours she had a good game.” He grins, hitting my stomach lightly. “You’re down bad, huh, big bro?”
Behind his head, I see some softball players filing out of the dugout. If Harley is anything like the catchers on our team, she’ll be the last one out because they have the most shit to pack up.
When I give him a shove, he steps beside me again, and I ignore the amused smirk on his lips.
Out of the pair of us, I’m the one who chases women way more.
But chasing to me means hooking up, not watching them play a scrimmage without them realizing I’m there and then hanging out after to say good job.
Harley heads toward us with her friend and the team’s shortstop, Haven King, beside her. Haven’s father is a football legacy here at NEU, and now he’s returned to coach the football team. NEU is becoming practically a King command—seeing as her uncle is my assistant coach, too.
Harley says something to Haven, and they both laugh, but when her eyes snap forward, she sees me and almost stops completely in her tracks. Slowly, she holds her hand up and waves before heading toward us, and I take a few steps toward her too.
Her friend stays beside her, and there’s no missing the grin tugging at her lips as she watches both of us.
“Good game, Catch,” I say, tipping my chin up at Haven. “You too, King.” I chuckle. “That double play you two had at second and home in the fourth inning was slick.”
I’m not just saying that either. When a girl hit the ball toward short, Haven leaped to catch it, landing on her stomach before getting the out at second base and throwing it home to Harley, where she tagged the runner out there, ending the inning on a high.
They were absolutely seamless, and while I’ve never watched too much women’s softball here at NEU … I’m officially a fan.
“Hell yeah, it was,” Haven agrees before smacking Harley on the shoulder. “I have to go see my parents before they take off. Catch you at home?”
Harley nods, and Haven waves to me and my brother before jogging off, her braid swinging down her back.
“Harley, this is my brother, Cash,” I say.
Cash being Cash, he instantly holds his hand out.
Harley takes it, giving it a small shake. “Nice to meet you. You’re the freshman goalie everyone is raving about, right?”
My brother doesn’t have a bragging bone in his body, so I can pretty much guess his response before he even opens his mouth.
“Oh, I don’t know about all that,” he says politely before bringing the attention back to her. “I don’t think a single ball got past you out there. That was impressive.”
“Thank you.” She smiles before her eyes dart to mine. “I hated to sit during the last inning, but Kira did a great job.”
“I noticed you came out,” I say without even knowing why the hell I’d blurt something so awkward. Obviously, there are more catchers than her, and now I just sound like a weirdo for noticing that she came out and didn’t go back in.
“Yeah, my levels have been pretty wacky today. And then that last slide into home plate was a tad too aggressive, and I ripped the Omnipod out.” She shrugs her shoulders, like it’s no big deal. “But it all worked out.”
I wondered if that was why she didn’t go back in the game.
I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be for her when her levels are off and she can’t play even when she wants to.
Not to mention having a device attached to her body that she has to be mindful of.
But mentally, she seems so fucking strong and just rolls with it.
I can feel Cash shifting beside me, and I know he’s getting ready to say he’ll meet me in the truck—no doubt thinking I need a minute alone or something with Harley.
In reality, I may be a guy who never has trouble picking up women, and yet, when it comes to her, I can’t seem to remember how not to sound like a moron when she’s around.
She makes me nervous, and I don’t really know what to do about it.
“I’ve got to make a phone call before practice, so I’ll meet you in the truck,” Cash says from beside me. “It was nice to meet you, Harley.”
Smiling at him, she waves. “You too.”
Once he’s gone, we stand here like two sixteen-year-old kids going on our first date. She’s tucking her hair behind her ear nervously, and I’m shifting around on my feet with my hands stuffed in my pockets.
“So,” she says, surprising me that she’s talking first, “you know, I paid good money at that auction for this baseball star last weekend. Not my money, but good, good money. And I was promised a night I wouldn’t forget.
I’m pretty sure it was in the fine print when I paid.
It definitely won’t be as fun as the date I took you on, but still. ”
I try to ignore the jolt that shoots through my dick, imagining what I’d like to do to make it a night she’d never forget.
She’d be naked—that’s for sure.
“For the price you paid, Catch?” I drawl, regaining some of the confidence this woman seems to make me forget I have. “I’d say I owe you two, hell, maybe even three of them.”
She bites down on her bottom lip and shifts around. I should use the fact that she seems not to have much experience with flirting to my advantage and turn on the charm.
“Well then,” she utters, tilting her head to the side, “you just let me know when. Just so you know, I like food. A lot.”
“How’s tonight?” I nod at her. “I know a pretty good place about thirty minutes off campus. It probably won’t be as good as that sketchy pizza joint we ate at, but it’s decent. And you won’t even have to worry about ass scratching going on.” I wink. “Pick you up around five?”
“No ass scratching and early dinner?” she coos, making her eyes grow wide. “I like it.”
“I grew up in a household that eats around five or five thirty every night.” I laugh. “Creature of habit now, I guess. I know; I know. I’m like an old man.”
She laughs, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
“No, I mean, same. My parents were big on having a schedule, and my dad always claimed he’d have heartburn all night if he ate too late, so we always ate around five thirty too.
” She shakes her head, still laughing. “He always has some Tums handy.”
“Sounds like a dad thing. Like a rite of passage to have Tums handy.”
Once she stops laughing, she looks up at me. “All right, well … I’ll see you at five, Baseball Boy.” As she starts to turn, tugging her wheeled catcher’s bag behind her, she widens her eyes playfully. “And if the dinner sucks, I guess it’s a good thing the money wasn’t actually mine, huh?”
“I guess so,” I say, following her like a puppy dog. “I’m not a stalker, Catch. Just parked beside your car—that’s all.”
Her cheeks heat, and she bites her lip to fight a smile. If it’s not the cutest damn thing I’ve seen, I don’t know what the fuck is.
Suddenly, seeing my fake friend has become the highlight of my week.
And that would be great and all, but I think I’m a little too excited to see someone who told me that this deal would only happen if it didn’t include romance.