Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Mascen
Leaving Aurora behind in the closet, I walk up to the table, downing my fresh drink the waitress left in my absence. Conversation continues at the table, my friends oblivious to my thunderous mood. Slapping bills down on the table, I announce, “I’m out. Enjoy your night. There’s more than enough to cover another round.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Leaving? Now?” Teddy looks at me incredulously, his large hand wrapped around a beer bottle. He flicks his blond hair out of his eyes, narrowing his gaze. “What the fuck man? Not having any fun?”
“Just not in the mood.”
I dig my keys out of my pocket, twirling the keychain around my finger.
I’m not going to stand there and argue with them, so I lift my hand in a goodbye wave. Cole arches his brow, approaching from the bar now with nachos.
“Leaving?” I nod in response. “Cool, see you later.”
At least Cole knows it’s a waste to try to convince me to stay.
Pushing my way through the crowded bar, I ignore the guys trying to pull me into conversation and the girls hoping to slip me their number.
My car is parked right up front and I slip inside, pulling out in such a hurry that the gravel kicks up a cloud of dust so thick I can’t see Harvey’s in the rearview mirror.
I should go home, but I know I won’t be able to clear my head there.
Instead, I find myself showing up at the local batting cages. I might be Aldridge’s star pitcher, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get satisfaction from hitting some balls either.
The lot is pretty much empty, which bodes well for me. But I’ve never run into any of the guys from the team here anyway. Hopping out, I grab my gym bag and head inside.
“Hey, Mark.” I greet the owner, tossing up my hand.
Mark lowers the motocross magazine he was reading, narrowing his eyes. “What’s wrong with you? You only show up here when you’re in a pissy mood.”
He’s not lying. “Just life,” I reply with. “You okay that I’m here?”
The gray-haired man lets out a gruff laugh. “You’re always welcome here, Wade. Now get in there and out of my hair.”
I shake my head at the man, sliding twenty bucks across the counter. He narrows his eyes, since he’s always telling me not to pay, but knows better than to argue with me now.
Nodding at him, I open the door, heading for the room with the cages. I pick the one on the far end. It’s the one I always choose if it’s available.
Setting my bag down, I pull out my gloves, grab a bat and let all thoughts empty from my mind.
“Dude, where have you been?” Cole blurts, the moment I come upstairs from the garage. It’s late, after two in the morning. Mark lives in a house behind the cages and let me stay as long as I promised to lock up when I left. I look around, half-expecting to see Rory here. Thankfully, it looks like Cole is the only one home.
“Went to the cages.” Striding across the room to the kitchen I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, leaving my back to him.
“You didn’t want to hang at the bar with us, but you went to the cages instead?”
I roll my eyes, but he can’t see. “Would you be as perplexed if I’d been with a girl?”
He makes a noise in his throat as I close the fridge. “You’ve been weird lately. Weirder than you normally are.”
Twisting the cap back on the water I set it on the counter and swipe an orange from the center bowl.
“Thanks, man. I feel the love.”
The leather of the couch protests and I know he’s getting up. The next moment he stands beside me at the kitchen counter, his arms braced on the stone. “What’s going on?”
I look up from the orange peels, meeting my friend’s eyes. “Nothing.”
This time he’s the one to roll his eyes. “You’re so full of shit. You think no one can smell it, or they’ll overlook it because of your last name. I’m not that person. I’m your best fucking friend. Don’t bullshit me.”
I twist my lips, my fingers sticky with juice. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
He shakes his head. “Whatever, dude. You know, sometimes I wonder why I put up with your sorry ass, but then I remember I care about you. You’re like a brother, and yeah, you might be pissing me off, but whenever you decide the great Mascen Wade wants to talk about it I’ll be waiting.”
“I don’t talk about my feelings,” I bite out when he turns to leave the kitchen.
He looks back, one hand braced on the doorframe. “That may be so, but you need to. I don’t know what the fuck you have all bottled up inside you, but something tells me it’s more than you want to acknowledge. If you don’t one of these days it’s going to suffocate you.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as he stares at me a second longer. With an exhale, he leaves the kitchen. A second later the TV turns off in the living room. Another second and the stairs creak with his steps.
“Fuck!” I toss the half-peeled orange off the counter. It slams into a cabinet before falling to the floor. I thrust my sticky fingers through the strands of my hair.
Crouching on the floor I pick up the mess, tossing the ruined orange in the trash before wiping a damp towel over the tacky residue left behind.
I have so little control over anything anymore, least of all myself.