Chapter Twelve
“Where the hell did this bread come from?” Declan, our coach, yells from across the jet. He’s standing near the flight attendant area, having just come out of the bathroom.
With a confused look on his face, Declan holds the bag out in front of him as though it might be poisoned.
Austin barks a laugh. “Looks like a sourdough, Coach!”
“Seriously, where did this come from? It wasn’t here when I went in, and now it is.”
A few of us look around, silently wondering who put it there. Several of my teammates have been up moving around, so it could have been anyone.
Maybe a wife or a girlfriend baked it for the team?
Jensen smirks as Declan sinks into the seat across the aisle from us, rejoining his daughter Sailor, and her nanny, Hailey. “You have something against bread, Coach?”
It definitely wasn’t him who brought the bread—he hasn’t moved from his seat—but Jensen and Declan seem to have formed a good friendship over the last couple of weeks, and he never misses an opportunity to mess with him.
We all have become pretty close lately, actually.
Me, Jensen, Austin, and Declan. There’s even a group chat.
Declan’s brows furrow deeper, so Jensen prods more. “I’ll take a slice. Got a toaster handy?”
Shaking his head, Declan glares at Jensen. “Think you’re clever, Fields? I can tell you to run laps around the Rebel’s stadium once we land if you keep giving me shit.”
Jensen’s a killer outfielder and a damn good friend once you break past his high-set walls. He doesn't easily give his trust, so once you have it, you damn well better keep it.
“Honestly though, Coach, it looks really good. You should go cut into it,” Austin chimes in, winking at the nanny. She’s a pretty redhead who’s trying to mind her own business, but keeps sneaking glances at our coach.
Declan runs a hand down his face. “You guys are impossible.”
“You love us,” Austin chimes in with a chuckle.
Declan groans, then turns his attention back to his daughter.
We have about thirty minutes left on the flight, so I pop on my headphones and sink down into my chair with my eyes closed. The second I shut out the world, Indy penetrates my thoughts and I doze off with visions of crystal blue eyes and pink hair in my mind.
Rosemoor, California.
Although it’s not my first time visiting this city, I’m just as wide-eyed as I always am when I’m here. Warm weather, vibrant blue skies. A guy could get used to this, although I’d never actually leave Bridge Point.
We’ve had the entire morning to do whatever we wanted, which has consisted of Austin, Jensen, and I trying out a few of the local spots to eat, a quick trip to the beach, and a short nap back at the Winslow Hotel.
Now, I’m standing at the Rebel’s third base, staring down the line at Jensen as Austin pitches.
The bat cracks, sending the ball hard in my direction. Muscle memory takes over as I track it, glove ready to catch.
Pop.
By the time the ball hits the leather, I’ve already straightened my stance and am firing it off to first. My teammate catches it with precision, and just like that, Jensen’s out, triggering our practice teams to switch.
My turn to bat.
Anticipation trickles through my bloodstream. My favorite part of the game is when the cool metal touches my hands.
Tugging my batting gloves on, they fit like a second skin that I’ve grown accustomed to, and I instantly find myself relaxing.
Stepping up to home plate, I exhale a breath and watch as the pitcher—who’s nowhere as good as Austin—pitches a fastball.
The bat hums as the ball connects with it, striking the sweet spot that sends it into the sky like a rocket.
Somewhere in the dugout behind me, someone lets out a low whistle.
“Fox!” Coach yells, but I don’t turn to look at him and instead continue to track the ball.
If this were a game, it would have been a home run.
But I’m not running.
“Why the hell aren’t you rounding the bases?” Declan stomps over to me.
“What’s the point?” Cocky, maybe, but we all know how to run. We know what to do when our play excels.
Just this once—while on enemy turf—I want to admire my handiwork.
Declan grumbles, but walks away again. Thinking better of it, he calls over his shoulder, “Huddle up. Now.”
The Bears jog to meet him by the dugouts, and he starts talking about plays, fundamentals, and his expectations for tomorrow’s game.
“I want to start a new tradition for away games. We’re a team—a family, and I feel strongly about celebrating the people who show up for you.
So starting now, we’ll celebrate the family who’s shown their support by following our travels.
” He nods toward the VIP box next to the dugout.
“Some games will have more, some less, but regardless, every single person out there in the stands cheering us on is appreciated. Tomorrow, my daughter Sailor will be watching, along with her nanny Hailey, and Hailey’s sister, Hartley. Who else will be there?”
A couple people mention the names of their loved ones, but there’s not many—not like a home game.
My eyes drift toward the stands, empty now, but come tomorrow they’ll be packed with roaring fans.
But I already know the one person I want to be there won’t be.
Declan
Anyone up for a drink?
“Ay! Coach just texted,” Austin announces before taking another gulp of his beer. His grin is wide when he puts the glass down a little too roughly on the table in front of us.
“We can read, dumbass.” Jensen snorts, his fingers flying across his screen.
My phone alerts with back-to-back messages seconds later.
Jensen
Already two drinks in.
Austin
At the hotel's bar, Coach. You joining us?
“I’m shocked he’s meeting us. Figured he’d want to relieve the nanny and hang with his kid,” Austin comments, settling back against the metal rungs of the chair’s back.
Declan
On my way down.
“It’s ten-thirty. Sailor’s probably asleep.” I swear Austin only half thinks the majority of the time. It’s a damn good thing he’s good at playing ball. “Is no one going to bother telling him we’re on the roof?”
“Oh, shit.” Austin laughs.
Up. We’re at the rooftop bar.
“Don’t worry, I got it.”
A few minutes later, Declan shows up, waving a waitress over as he comes to stand by our table. He orders himself a local brew, then crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“You look as stiff as a fucking board, Declan. Take a seat.” Jensen gestures at the open stool next to Austin.
Instead of listening, he turns toward the railing, eyes on the skyline. Deep in thought, he chews on his bottom lip. The silence is unsettling, and the three of us look at each other in confusion, though none of us dare to interrupt whatever inner battle Declan’s having.
It isn’t long before I can’t take it anymore. “Hey, Declan. You good, man?”
Exhaling through his nose, he turns back to us, then drops into the chair next to Jensen. “I need to talk to you guys. Not coach to player, but as a friend. Man to man. You guys are younger than me, maybe you’ll have some insight on how to dig myself out of the hole I just sank into.”
The waitress comes by and places Declan’s beer on a paper coaster in front of him, also bringing us refills. Austin passes her a twenty, then turns to Declan. “Alright, so tell us then. What’s this about? Did you get into it with the Rebels coach or something?”
“Piss off Blake Bradley?” Jensen asks. “That prick has it coming. Just because he owns the team doesn’t mean he knows baseball.”
Declan shakes his head. “No. It’s about my daughter’s nanny, Hailey.”
That gets my attention. Putting my glass down on the table, I lean forward slightly. “What happened, Declan?”
“Fuck,” he mutters, running his hand through his hair. “We crossed a line tonight. She—I—we. Dammit. We crossed a line we should have stayed the hell away from.”
Austin bursts out laughing, while Jensen twists in his chair to take a better look at Declan. He’s flustered—embarrassed even, if the light reddish hue on his cheeks is any indicator.
But I know there’s more to the story than Declan’s told us so far, and if spending a lot of time on third base has taught me anything, it’s that sometime the ending details are the most important.
He tosses his hands into the air. “She’s great with Sailor. Sexy as hell. Funny. But I promised myself I’d put Sailor first, no matter what. And being attracted to her nanny jeopardizes the good thing they’ve got going. I’ve made a damn mess.”
I take a long sip of my beer, patiently waiting for Declan to get out everything he needs to say. Seems like that was it though. He picks up his drink and takes a long pull of the dark amber liquid, careful not to drink the head as he gulps it down.
“I don’t see what the problem is.” Jensen shrugs. “If she’s consenting and you both want each other, then go for it. Nannies are a dime a dozen. You can find a new one for Sailor.”
“You don’t get it, though. It’s not that simple. Finding someone who relates to and bonds with your kid, and is willing to work with the crazy baseball lifestyle? Unheard of.”
“Is potentially losing your nanny the only thing holding you back?” I ask tentatively, trying to piece the puzzle together.
“No.” Declan shakes his head. “It’s not even that.
It’s their relationship. Sailor’s already been through so much with her mother abandoning her.
Since Hailey walked into our lives, Sailor’s been so happy.
I can’t explain it, I don’t know how to.
But I can’t risk starting something with Hailey and it going south, and Sail losing another woman she loves from her life. ”
My heart aches for his daughter. I don’t have kids, but I love my nephew Bodhi more than I thought it was possible to love another human, and he’s not even mine. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like one day when I have a child of my own. “I can see the concern, but if you feel something for her—”
Austin groans. “Getting soft on us, Gareth?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Says the man who’s never been in a relationship.”
“Who says I haven’t?” he snaps, catching me off guard.
“Be for real,” Jensen chides, glaring at Austin.
“As I was saying—” I ignore them both and speak directly to Declan.
“If you feel something for her, you have to consider it. We’re human.
We make mistakes, sure, but pursuing someone you could see a future with is never a mistake in the long run.
If you can see a future with Hailey, I don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t at least try. Your happiness matters too, Coach.”
My own words echo through my ears, and I realize I need to practice what I preach.
Our situations really aren’t that different. I’m protecting my best friend at the expense of my own happiness because I’m afraid of hurting him in the long run.
A blanket of silence cloaks our table, the four of us deep in thought—or at least me and Declan are. From my peripheral, I can see Austin’s on his phone, and Jensen’s people watching.
“You don’t think it’s selfish?” Declan’s strained voice breaks through my thoughts.
I shake my head, slow and certain. “No. I don’t. In fact, I think it’s time we both go after what we want.”
He doesn’t ask me to elaborate on what I mean by that, which I appreciate. Tonight was about getting this off his chest, not about me confiding in them about my problems.
Declan nods once. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” Austin immediately cuts in, making Declan laugh.
And hell, I laugh too.
We all grow quiet again, enjoying the rest of our beers and the company. Below us, the city hums with nightlife. We have an early morning tomorrow with warm-ups, but it’s nice to enjoy the fresh air and glittering view of Rosemoor.
Tipping my glass back, I finish off the remaining sip and let the bitter taste settle on my tongue.
Declan exhales beside me like he’s finally letting go of the stress he’s been holding. Jensen’s gaze drifts back to us, and Austin pockets his phone.
A few minutes later, we stand to leave, chairs scraping across the ground, but they hardly make a sound over the laughter and conversations around us.
I glance back at the skyline once more before heading into the open elevator, ready to get to bed.
Tomorrow, we face the Rebels, and when we win, I can head back to Bridge Point and earn the only victory I truly care about.
Indy’s heart.