Chapter 12
I listen to Wes’ pitch call play in my ear and nod. The sixth hitter in the San Diego lineup gets into position at the plate and eyes me carefully. After swinging and missing a low ball and fouling off another, he’s feeling the pressure the Havoc have been applying so far tonight.
Up by a single and the only run in the game, we’re in a tight position heading into the bottom of the seventh. I need to keep from getting a San Diego hitter on base this inning. I’ve been successful up to now, but the moment I get cocky, I know karma’s going to bite me in the ass.
My desire to play the best games of my career always seems to revolve around Aubrey’s presence.
There’s something about having her watching me here in our stadium that jacks up my confidence while fueling my need to win.
I know she watches most of our games at home when she’s not here physically, but it’s different like this.
Despite her being nowhere close to me out here on the mound, I feel her presence as if she were at my side.
Back when we were kids, she’d be at every single one of my Little League games, and once I started playing seriously, she’d do her homework in the stands just so she didn’t miss more than a handful per season. Until she started at the firm she’s at now, even her work schedule revolved around mine.
I hope she knows how grateful I am for her support, even when I get too damn busy to remind her.
Zoning back in, I adjust my grip on the ball inside my glove and blow out a prepping breath.
When I move, the air stills around me in preparation for either the familiar crack of a bat for a hit or the whoosh of a strike.
Rarely, the hitter will make a ball call, but again, I’m really damn good when Aubrey’s here.
Fatigue is settling into my muscles as Wes stands from his position and throws the ball he caught back to me. It’s not too hard to handle, so I ignore it and lift my glove, feeling the ball hit it a beat later.
The crowd’s screams are white noise as I set up again and listen to Wes’ call.
Rodrigues, the batter in front of me, stretches his shoulders and does a few practice swings on the plate before giving the go-ahead.
I eye the pitch clock out of habit and dry my palm on my thigh before repeating my motions again.
This time, Wes calls for something else, and I adjust my fingers on the ball, stroking the familiar and comforting stitching a single time.
In a blink, it’s cutting through the air and curving away from the batter. It looks like it’s heading for the dirt, but it falls into Wes’ glove instead. The moving bat doesn’t faze me because I already know it isn’t going to make contact.
Wes raises his hand a beat later, and I punch the air, grinning. “That’s right!”
The crowd cheers as we finish the inning, and I add another to tonight’s stats.
Jett comes up from behind me and slaps my back while the basemen follow suit.
The only player who doesn’t try to come anywhere close to us is Asher.
He comes in from centre field and offers me a lukewarm look that I assume is supposed to be appreciation before jogging to the dugout.
“Good shit tonight, Finn,” Jett cheers, his grin electric before dipping slightly when he looks at Asher. “We’ve still got to work on that.”
“Go for it, Dad. I doubt he’s going to want to open up to me.”
“Are we talking about Asher?” Wes asks, joining us. With a rough shake of my shoulder, he adds, “It’s your game, man. You’ve been a force out here.”
I grin, letting the praise soak in. “Got the best catcher in the lead with me. I can’t exactly let you down, can I?”
“You make me look good,” he says while still accepting the well-deserved compliment.
There’s a reason the Havoc pay him as much as they do and why they’ve had to fend off trade offers left and right over the last three seasons. Wes is an integral part of this team, and I, for one, never want to see him leave.
Trailing after Asher, the three of us fall into a brisk pace, side by side. I tug my glove off and stretch my sweaty fingers. Jett follows suit but uses his to pluck the hat off his head and mess up his hair.
“Aubrey’s here,” Jett says bluntly.
I blink, surprised by the sudden info drop. “Yes, she is. And you’re using her as a human lie-detector machine for your new nanny.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at.”
I step ahead of both my teammates and enter the dugout first. Wes moves around us and slaps hands with one of the other players while Jett drops a hand to my shoulder and turns me around. The tightness in his expression worries me enough that I don’t tease him about being so handsy.
“Asher likes Aubs. Maybe she could talk to him,” he says, dropping his voice so we’re not overheard.
“By like, you mean he can stand to speak more than ten words to her in one sitting.”
“To him, I’m sure that means he sees her as a best friend.”
All too aware of the eyes and ears that are far too close to us right now, I sigh. “We’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t want it to affect our season. He’s making some selfish moves, Finn. I don’t like it.”
My stomach tightens as I remember the fly ball in the sixth that he nearly dropped after stepping into our left fielder’s space to take the catch from him.
“He’s still warming up to us and the team. It’s not going to happen overnight. You can’t make him be our best friend just because you want us to be a big, happy family.” I say it as gently as I can, but he still frowns in response, making my gut tweak with guilt.
Releasing me, resignation fills his eyes. “We are a family. I just don’t want anything or anyone to damage what we’ve worked so hard to accomplish. This could be our year. I can feel it.”
“We’ll work it out. Kinks aren’t new to this team. Give him a few more weeks before you jump to the worst-case scenarios.”
Instead of replying, he lets it go with a reluctant nod. I watch him pass me and drop his glove onto the bench before gathering his batting gear. There’s more than enough he’s left unsaid, and I make a promise to myself to bring it up after the game.
Family is the single most important thing to Jett.
He sees every player and staff member on this team as members of the one he’s built outside of himself and Sara.
The group of us who have grown closer than all the rest have gotten that way over the last several years because of him.
Still, our connection wasn’t instant, and it never needed to be because we all had the time to get to know each other on a far deeper level than Asher’s ever been interested in diving with us.
I can respect that mostly, and have given him a bit of breathing room, but to Jett, he doesn’t understand why Asher doesn’t want to join the family we’ve built here.
To him, he sees the loyalty, friendship, and love as some great gift from the universe. I don’t disagree, but in this case, when it comes to Asher, none of that seems to matter. Continuing to push him is only going to make him back up further and those selfish mistakes intensify.
This isn’t the time for that conversation.
“You played fantastic, Finn. We’ve got Beck going in for the eighth. Take a breather and grab a bottle of water,” Roman Shore, our team manager, tells me.
I blink and turn toward his voice. He’s sitting by the dugout entrance, inspecting me with that brutally intense gaze I’ve come to expect.
For a forty-year-old, he looks just as young as any of the rookies chatting behind him or across the field in the bullpen.
Unless someone told you his age, you wouldn’t look at him and be able to tell he’s more than a decade older than me.
His black hair is slicked back in his usual style, revealing the two helix piercings he has, both in his right ear.
The black hoops were the first things Aubrey noticed when she met him.
Because of her mildly concerning obsession with piercings, it took all of three seconds for them to start chatting, hitting it off immediately.
Five years later, and he’s the one she goes to when she wants an opinion on a new potential piercing.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Roman’s got a few more of them than I can see standing here beside him.
Yeah, I don’t want to guess where those piercings are.
Despite knowing I’ve got more in me to give this game, I let it go, knowing this isn’t a fight I want to battle tonight. Beck’s our closer, and he’s not going to risk a damn thing out there now that I’m done. I’ll take the breather while I can get it.
The minute we’re done here tonight, I’ve got to join Aubrey in planning a date with someone I hardly know and am not interested in learning about in the hopes that we can make some heavy progress in her dating skills.
I crook a grin and take the tattooed hand Roman holds out for me, shaking it. “Thanks, Rome.”
“Keep working on that slurve. It’s been impossible for this team to work it out these last three games, and I have a feeling that streak is going to continue for a long while if you keep it up. The arm feels good?”
A heavy sense of appreciation fills me at both his praise and concern.
It’s been two weeks since the scare with my shoulder that I absolutely kept from Aubrey.
It was only a tweak, but it had me missing one of my starts and both Roman and my pitching coach treating me like I’d had the entire thing amputated.
I’m good as new now, and I’ve been cleared to play, but my gut tells me they’re still wary.
“I’m not worried. Is that why you’re pulling me?”
Roman leans his arms against the wall and shakes his head, eyeing Kellan when he takes a wide step closer and stretches his shoulder, getting ready to bat third this next inning.
Our manager scratches the side of his intentionally scruffy jaw and then shoves the sleeve of his Havoc hoodie higher up his forearm.
“No. We’re just not going to push you. This one’s nearly scoreless, and I want to keep those hit numbers the same by the end of the game. Beck’s been warming up for a bit now. He’ll finish it.”
“Alright.”
“I want you to stretch that arm out a good bit, though.” There’s no room for argument in his tone. It’s sharp and lands like a physical blow. “We need you this season. There’s still too much left to play.”
“Got it. You don’t have to worry so much,” I drawl lightly, letting the corner of my mouth lift higher.
He huffs a laugh and waves his hand for me to move further into the dugout. “Go sit your ass down and relax. Again, you did really well out there today.”
“Compliments will get you everywhere with me, Rome.”