30. Midnight Visitor
30
MIDNIGHT VISITOR
Tanner
It’s Saturday night, and our team’s plane just touched down on the tarmac. As I gather my bag, I call out to the rest of the Comets. “You’re welcome for the day off tomorrow.”
Our first baseman, Tucker, snort-laughs as he reaches for his duffel. “You bat third and do our scheduling? Glad they’re keeping you busy,” Tucker says.
“I’m basically awesome,” I say, then I make my way out of the jet and hightail it through the airport. I need to get home, stat, so I can get some shuteye before Zach’s wedding tomorrow.
As I’m heading to a waiting town car, I check my texts.
Not gonna lie—there’s a part of me that’s hoping to hear from Luke again. He texted me last night, and since there are no new missives, I read that message again as I slide into the car.
Luke: Hey, I didn’t want to say this last time I saw you, but I’m not getting an early renewal. And I’ve decided I’m okay with it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I found out before Jason’s wedding. I should have but I was embarrassed. And it’s unfair to keep that from you as a friend. You don’t have to say anything to make me feel better though. It’s fine. Truly, it’s fine. I just didn’t feel right not telling you. I hope you’re okay with me telling you now.
I felt for him when I read that in Miami. Wished I could have given him a hug. Instead, I told him to keep on playing his heart out like he always does. Told him I believed in him too.
I read our notes again, and I don’t feel as lonely as I did the last time I read them.
Maybe we can be friends again eventually. I don’t know if it’ll ever be like it was before. But I want to try.
For now though, I should focus on tomorrow. I wish I were more excited to see Soren at the wedding. He’s a good guy. We had a nice coffee earlier in the week. He’s easy to talk to, but I didn’t feel any spark. I don’t think I will in time either. It’s not him. It’s me. I’m not emotionally available. Time to do the right thing.
I click on his name in my texts.
Tanner: I truly enjoyed having coffee with you, and I think you’re a great guy. But I’m not in the best place to date right now. Honestly, I’m a little hung up on someone. And it’s not fair to you.
Seconds later, a response lands.
Soren: Thanks for being honest. That rarely happens. I appreciate it. And no big deal. I wish you the best.
He’s going to make some guy very, very happy.
As the driver cruises into Manhattan, I close my eyes, then wake up when the car stops at my building.
Damn. I was more tired than I thought.
But it’s eleven at night and we played hard in Florida. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, then hop out of the car and walk into my building.
“Mr. Sloan!”
I turn around as the concierge calls out to me. “Yes, Denny?” I ask heading over to the desk.
The mustached man hands me a small box. “Package for you,” he says.
There’s no label on it. Just my name in black marker. “Huh,” I say, concerned, but not quite alarmed. “Is it from a fan?”
Denny looks like he’s trying to fight off a smile. “It’s safe. Nothing to worry about. You have my word.”
“Okay,” I say, relaxing. “Appreciate it.”
In the elevator, I tear off the tape then rip open the package. When I reach the penthouse floor, I fish around in the tissue paper till I find…a key fob.
A plain black key fob.
That’s it.
I yawn, shaking my head in befuddlement. This must have been meant for someone else. Once I’m inside my home, I drop my bag and search for the number for the concierge, but as it’s ringing there’s a knock on my door.
“That was fast,” I say, then hang up before anyone answers. Denny must be here to retrieve the package.
But as I swing open the door, it occurs to me he wouldn’t leave his post.
Then, my eyes pop.
Luke is standing on the other side, wearing nothing but a lime-green thong.