50. Ari
fifty
Ari
“Good morning, baby,” Lucia says, smiling at me sweetly.
“Good morning.” I press a soft kiss on her lips and pull her closer to me, my arms still wrapped around her from when we fell asleep.
“Did you sleep well?”
I push the hair out of her face. “You know I did, Luc. I sleep better than I ever have when you’re beside me.”
Just over a month of having Lucia sleep in my bed has shown me that I’m not sure how I could ever let her go anywhere else. I love having her beside me, even now on our away trip to Pittsburgh.
“What time do you need to be at the stadium today?”
“Noon,” I reply. “Still have quite a while to just lie here with you.”
Lucia rolls over on top of me, still naked from last night. “Are we supposed to just lie in bed all morning?”
I lean closer to her, my lips ghosting over hers. “I can think of some other things we could do in bed instead, sweetheart.”
Before I can make a move, we’re interrupted by my phone ringing.
I groan and grab it from the bedside table, grumbling, “Who the fuck is calling at seven in the morning?”
“I’ll wager a guess and say it’s your mom.”
I check the screen.
Yep, she’s right.
I smile as I answer, even if I was just cockblocked by my own mother.
“Hey, Eomma. Why are you awake right now?”
“No sleep,” she laughs. “So I talk to you instead, Jae-Hyun. Surprised you awake now.”
I chuckle heartily. “My friend woke me up.”
“Friend?” I can hear her curious tone through the phone. She knows what time it is here and that it wouldn’t be a friend who woke me up.
“Yes, Eomma. She’s a friend.”
“A girlfriend?” she prods.
“Not a girlfriend.” Something flashes across Lucia’s face, but I can’t tell what it is. “She’s just a friend.” I put my hand over the microphone and look over at Lucia now. “Do you want to say hi?”
This time, I do recognize the look on her face—complete surprise. “You want me to say hi to your mom?”
“Why not?” I shrug.
“Yeah, okay,” she smiles, and warmth blooms through me.
“I’m putting the phone on speaker,” I say into the receiver before pressing the button to do so. “Eomma, this is my friend, Lucia. Lucia, this is my mother.”
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Lucia says brightly. “Jae-Hyun has told me a lot about you.”
“I never meet Jae-Hyun friends.”
I scoff and roll my eyes. “You’ve talked to the guys, Eomma. And you’ve literally met Cole.”
“But no girls. Lucia special.”
My cheeks flush at the comment. Yeah, Lucia is special. Really fucking special.
There’s a reason I’m so obsessed with her.
“Like he said,” Lucia interjects. “We’re just friends.”
I don’t like the way the word sounds when it falls from her lips.
Huh, that’s weird.
“Anyway,” she says now, looking up at me. “I’m going to head down to the lobby and grab us some coffee. I’ll be back up in a little bit.” She leans closer to the phone. “It was lovely talking to you…”
“Hye-Won,” I tell her.
“Hye-Won.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucia,” my mom says, and I watch as Lucia gets up and gets dressed before heading out of my hotel room. My mom must hear the click of the door because as soon as Lucia is gone, she says, “You like her.”
“What?” I say, turning off the speaker and bringing the phone back to my ear. “Like I told you, we’re just friends.”
“You not,” she asserts. “A friend not in your room this early.”
“Yeah, we’re definitely not getting into that discussion, Eomma.”
The last thing I want to do is talk about my sex life with my mom.
“You like spending time with her?” she asks, more gently this time.
“Yeah,” I smile. “She’s pretty incredible.”
“And you happy with her?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t spend time with her otherwise.”
“Jae-Hyun, you like her.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Eomma,” I groan, pinching my brow. “You know how I feel about love and everything.”
“That change.” My mom says it with absolute certainty. “You like Lucia.”
I sigh and fall back on my bed.
It was nice to have a break from constantly hearing this from the guys, but now I’m getting it from my own fucking mother.
Does… does that mean something?
Is there possibly more to this?
And if there is, is that something Lucia would even want?
I can’t imagine she’d ever see a future with somebody like me.
I’m the guy who always slept around—men and women. I’m not the type to settle down.
Lucia knows that.
So even if I am feeling something for her, there’s still no way she’d fall for a playboy like me.
The Stars’ ballpark is my favorite, but the Bridgers’ ballpark is a pretty close second. You get the river breeze with the entirety of downtown Pittsburgh as the backdrop.
Doesn’t mean we’re going to play well, though.
We’re losing 7-4 at the start of the bottom of the eighth.
Jessie Lutz, one of our relief pitchers, takes to the mound now while the Bridgers’ left fielder walks up to the plate. His first two pitches are strikes, but the batter connects on the third, sending a ground ball right to Josh. He lobs it over to me, but the batter beats me to the base.
The Bridgers just got another hit.
We luckily escape the inning without a run, though.
Their catcher sends a popout to Rafael Ayala in left field, giving us our first out.
The designated hitter hits a line drive that Lutz catches for our second out.
And the first baseman gets a strikeout for the third.
Now, we head to the top of the ninth and hope for the best.
I batted during our last inning, so I watch now from the dugout next to Cole.
“This game is a shitshow,” he says lowly.
“It’s like we all forgot how to play,” I agree. “Hopefully, tomorrow is better.”
Lucia walks up to the other side of me. “Wow, where’s the team spirit, gentlemen?”
I laugh as I turn to face her. “Pretty sure that didn’t show up today.”
We all groan in unison when our second baseman, Alejandro Pena, strikes out.
“How’s Eomma?” Cole asks, trying to ignore the tragedy playing out before us.
“She’s good,” I smile. “We talked to her this morning, actually.”
Cole looks at me with his eyebrow raised. “We?”
I shift uncomfortably, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah. Lucia was there when she called. They talked briefly.”
“You met Eomma?” Cole questions Lucia, disbelief laced in his tone.
“Yeah,” she shrugs. “Like Ari said, I was with him when she called. She seems really sweet.”
“Oh, Eomma is the best,” Cole chuckles. “Ari’s just always been picky about who gets to meet her.”
“That’s what she said, too,” Lucia says softly.
We’re distracted now by the crack of the bat, watching Jeff Novak, our right fielder, hit the ball into the outfield and make it safely to first base.
Then, our designated hitter, Neil Mansfield, gets his own hit, sending Novak to second base when he lands on first.
“Shit,” I say. “I wonder how this will play out.”
Lucia bites her nails nervously. “Rivas is up, and his Achilles has been bothering him again.”
Doesn’t seem to be bothering him much now when he sends the ball into the outfield, safely making it to first.
We have bases loaded with one out at the top of the ninth.
“Morgan,” Skip yells over at me. “You’re on deck.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. The pressure of batting with the bases loaded is intense, and the fans are pissed when you leave the runners stranded.
“You’ve got this, Jae-Hyun,” Lucia smiles, pushing my arm playfully. Now, she leans closer, whispering against my ear. “Go get a home run, and I’ll let you fuck my ass again tonight.”
I’m not ashamed to say I dash to the on-deck circle after that bit of motivation.
Ayala quickly strikes out, so I step up to the plate.
Bases loaded, two outs.
If I don’t get a hit here, the game is over.
I keep my eyes locked on the pitcher, focused on the game. He sends a curveball that lands just outside the strike zone. The next two pitches are fastballs that I send foul.
And just like that, I have two strikes.
I take a deep breath and step up to the plate again, determined to do something here. The pitcher sends a slider this time, thinking I’ll whiff.
He’s not that lucky.
The crack of the bat is thunderous, and I start running to first base, waiting to see where it lands.
And it lands just over the wall in left field.
Holy shit, I just hit a grand slam.
I can hear the cheers from our dugout and the fans we have here as I jog around the bases, bringing in runs from Novak, Mansfield, and Rivas before I follow suit.
The team is raucous as I dance my way into the dugout, celebrating that I just put us in the lead 8-7.
We take the win, and the team takes the celebration to the clubhouse.
I catch Lucia’s eyes, though. I can see pride within them, interspersed between a blazing inferno.
The Stars won the game, but I won a whole lot more than that.