Chapter 21
Hunter
I talk a big game, and I know it. I’ve been my own biggest hype man for years.
It started when I was in junior high and I watched this video by a guy named Derrick Lujan.
He was an all-star shortstop for Seattle, and he went on this crazy hit streak where he got a hit for fifty games in a row.
Not quite Joe DiMaggio’s stat of fifty-six, but still flirting with greatness.
His videos focus on mindset, and he said the biggest muscle a player can work is his ego.
I took that advice to heart that night, and the very next day, before I took the mound, I told myself I was the best in the county. I threw my first complete game. A year later, I had two no-hitters. Then in high school, I set a record for strike-outs, and even threw a perfect game.
All because Derrick Lujan taught me to exercise my ego.
Well . . . that ego just landed me in Coach Shuster’s office after throwing a one-hitter against the toughest team in our division—with an open slot in the starting rotation in Texas. And my parents both here because someone told them to fly in.
I pretty much put it together about an hour before I took the mound, but I didn’t dare utter it out loud. I feel it in my bones, though. I’m getting called up.
“Hunter, great game tonight, son,” Coach says as he slips into his office, along with Coach Burdick. They close the door, and Coach Shuster motions for me to take a seat on the bright orange couch. Everything in this stadium is either blue or orange, I swear.
“Yes, sir,” I say, doing as he says. I ball my hands together and rest my elbows on my knees, my gaze bouncing between my two coaches. My palms are so sweaty, and my mouth is watering again. If I vomit through this news, I’ll never live it down.
“You know why I called you in here, Hunter?” Coach Shuster says.
I start to nod on instinct, and my eyes prick with tears.
“I think so, yeah.” My voice is suddenly hoarse. Fuck, this is hitting me harder than I imagined. I worked so hard for this. I can’t believe it’s really happening.
“You’re going to need to pack your bags this weekend. Come Monday, you’re on a flight to Dallas, and you’re starting in Arlington.”
His words come at me through a narrow tunnel, everything in the room muffled by the sudden thumping of my heart. I nod more aggressively now, and tears fall down my cheeks as an elated sob shakes my chest and I stand.
“Shit, this is embarrassing,” I laugh out.
“Meh, we all do it. It’s a big moment. Marriage. Baby. Getting called up. And not necessarily in that order,” Coach Burdick says.
I hug him first, running my fist over my nose while he can’t see me.
“Go make me proud, Hunter,” he says.
“Yes, sir. I will. I promise.”
I turn to face Coach Shuster next, first gripping his hand, then embracing him.
“Thank you, Coach. Thank you for everything,” I blubber. He chuckles at my breakdown and slaps my back a few times with a heavy hand.
“I didn’t have to do much. You came ready to go. You were ready for this in college, Hunter. You’re going to do great. Just try not to come back here to rehab an injury, huh?”
I breathe out a laugh as we part.
“No, sir. I mean yes, sir. I mean . . . fuck. I’ll try not to get hurt.”
Both coaches chuckle at my sudden inability to speak in coherent sentences, and then Coach Burdick cracks open the office door and my parents step inside to share the news.
“You two knew, didn’t you?” I hug my mom tightly, the tears flowing good now.
My dad’s hand rests on my shoulder, and the shuddering in his palm clues me in that he’s probably crying like a baby, too.
My mom’s the only one with dry eyes, which is hilarious, because if this were a situation to place bets on, her crying would have been a sure thing.
“I’m so proud of you, Hunter. So incredibly proud,” my mom says, holding me at the elbows and stepping back so she can study me the way she did before sending me off for picture day at school.
“Thanks, Mom. Dad. Just, oh my God, I’m making the show! Woo!”
I pump a fist, and my coaches start clapping. Roddy peaks his head in, and the moment our eyes meet, his mouth stretches into a wide grin. He rushes at me, wrapping me in a bear hug that knocks the wind out of me.
“Fuck, yeah! I knew it! I fucking knew it!” His hands slap my back after he drops my feet back to the floor, and he moves on to shake my parents’ hands next.
“You two have a great son. He’s one hell of a talent. I loved catching for him.”
My dad’s eyes widen as he shakes Roddy’s hand, probably because my dad has one of his jerseys at home.
“Thank you for dealing with him,” my mom says, hugging the sweaty, dirt-soaked catcher.
Roddy chuckles as he points to my mom over her shoulder and meets my gaze.
“I like her,” he says.
“Yeah, I figured you would. You can commiserate over dealing with my know-it-all attitude, I’m sure.”
“Meh, you were easy to break. I just had to let an All-Star hit a homer off you, and you got right in line,” Roddy says, recalling our first outing at the start of the season.
My body is tingling with excited energy, and I practically skip my way out of the locker room to where Renleigh and her sister are waiting in the administration lobby.
The smile plastered on Renleigh’s face seems caught between something real and a forced expression.
My parents probably clued her in on what was coming.
I wish I could have given her a better warning.
I didn’t want to jinx it, though. Plus, sometimes my head tells me a story that isn’t really rooted in facts.
I felt as though the winds were shifting.
My agent told me to be ready the moment Riggs went down for a shoulder injury in Texas.
But still . . . there were a lot of options besides pulling me up early.
It’s rare for a rookie to get the call before the All-Star break. Very rare.
“Holy shit, Hunter!” Lindsey says as I pull her sister into a hug, smashing her face against my chest.
“Yeah, I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it all,” I say.
“Bullshit. This is the dream. Boy’s gonna be a legend!” Roddy shouts as he passes by, his gear bag slung over his shoulder as he heads out to his beat-up truck. I know the man’s a multi-millionaire. And as prickly as he is, I hope I can be a lot like him with this ride.
“Congratulations,” Renleigh says, her voice muffled against my shirt.
I drop my hands to cradle her face and meet her wide eyes. She’s freaked out, and the rush of her reaction crashes into the excitement bubbling in my chest so hard my heart stops for a second.
“I don’t leave until the weekend. We can talk about this, how it works. It’s going to work out. I promise,” I say, dropping a soft kiss on her lips.
She nods, her mouth moving against mine as she utters, “Yeah.”
I don’t believe her, but there really is time for us to talk. We just need to get out of here.
The rest of the team spills out of the locker room, and I take turns shaking hands and hugging a lot of the guys, but I make sure my free hand is always tethered to Renleigh’s. She doesn’t pull away, which means she’s open to fighting for this little thing we just started. And I do intend to fight.
“Let’s celebrate, brother! Come on, Roddy said he’s buying,” Jayden says as he slings an arm around my neck. I duck just as he nearly pulls me away from Renleigh, and his gaze shifts to her. “You’re coming too, right? I mean, you deserve to enjoy Earl’s from our side every now and then. You in?”
“Hell, yeah, we’re in,” Lindsey says, despite the frantic darting of Renleigh’s eyes.
“I don’t know. I should get home,” she says, pulling my hand closer to her.
I step in and drop my head lower to give us a small private space amid the rowdiness around us. She shakes her head, her smile more of a straight line as her eyes flit from focusing on mine to the rest of the world around us.
“My dad had in-home rehab today, and I’m sure he’s tired. I don’t know, I just—”
“Mom is there,” Lindsey says, stepping into our space.
Renleigh winces, and I want to push her sister away, but also, I’m on Lindsey’s side.
The relationship between their family is complicated, but Renleigh owes it to herself to have her own life.
And maybe this timing is the universe’s way of giving us a shot.
“Just one drink. I won’t drink at all, and then I can take you home. I’m too excited to drink anyway. I want to keep feeling this natural buzz. What do you say?” I sway in my stance, drawing her eyes to mine, and finally she nods and lets her mouth break into a faint smile.
“Yeah. You’re right.” She glances to her sister. “I’ll come. For a little while. I want to.”
“Good! Now, let’s go order some expensive shit and make Roddy pay for it,” Lindsey says, looping her arm through her sister’s and leading her out of the building.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, noticing Brooks finally trailing out of the locker room. He’s been so quiet lately, and while he was never the crazy, wild guy in high school, he wasn’t a hermit, either. I feel bad that I haven’t spent a lot of time with him since we both landed here in Sweetwater.
“Hey, you hear the news?” I say, pulling his gaze up from the ground. He has a massive duffle bag slung over his back, which is weird for a guy who isn’t a catcher.
“I did. Wow, that’s . . . I knew you’d be the first to get called up.
Good for you.” He lifts his chin and the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, and I swear he might be jealous.
He’s going to get his shot. He’ll be in Texas with me next season for sure.
Maybe even for a few games this year if he keeps raking at the plate.
“We’re going out to celebrate. I’d love to catch up with you before I go. Let me buy you a beer,” I say, nudging his bicep with my arm.