Chapter 22
Rhys shouldn’t have returned to this coffee shop.
He didn’t even know why he was bothering.
It’s not like he needed the coffee to be able to focus.
There wasn’t going to be anything to focus on today, other than catching in the bullpen.
At least the skipper allowed him to do that. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.
Mel had scurried out from behind the counter as if they couldn’t wait to get away from him. He had totally fucked things up the day before, hadn’t he?
Except Mel’s last words to him rolled through his head. Everyone deserves that.
He tried to shake them off. Caleb’s assertion he could count on Rhys had made them dig in deeper. Didn’t these people know who he was? Just a fuck up. He couldn’t even help the team out right now.
Fucking New Cresthill. He wished they were going anywhere but there.
He’d managed the first time they were there this season. Even if he had lashed out at Caleb when he hadn’t deserved it. One comment that touched a spot Rhys hadn’t realized was still quite so tender. Rhys had nearly spilled more than he ever told anyone.
He needed to hold it together better. He couldn’t alienate his teammates just because he didn’t want to have to face his past. They were the only family he had. More family than any of the people who claimed the title of parent, even temporarily. The only one he’d had since Simon…
No, he wasn’t thinking about him now. That would break him the rest of the way apart, and he could not do that. Not when Skip told him he needed to meet with Brady before their game today.
Maybe this time Rhys could convince them to put him back on the lineup. He just needed to get some coffee first.
Without Mel behind the counter, he supposed he wouldn’t be able to get his Fruity Blast, though.
His lips twitched, thinking how the drink came about because Mel was trolling him.
It should have upset him. Everyone made assumptions.
That he was stupid, he didn’t care about people, the only thing he ever thought about was sex.
Okay, maybe that last was close to the truth. It pinched a little that they made the same assumption so many of the blogs made. That he was a womanizing heterosexual male, like so many other asshole athletes. Fucking Massachusetts hadn’t helped. Or the way the blogs had written about it.
“What can I get for you?”
Rhys brought his gaze to the man behind the counter. Mid forties, thinning hair, stomach pushing out against his apron. And a pleasant smile stretching across his face.
Rhys really needed coffee.
“Medium Venezuelan coffee, two sugars.” He’d only be able to handle a few sips of it, but he’d give the rest to Alfie. Maybe having something from back home would help close this gap that seemed to be widening between them.
Rhys wished he knew what he’d done wrong this time. Probably just by being himself. He should know better than to think anyone would want to stick around for long. Even someone with as much patience as Alfie.
After he had his cup, Rhys glanced toward the table where Mel sat with their siblings. He paused then shook his head.
Didn’t matter that he’d liked bantering with them the day before. He couldn’t handle having another person in his life he’d inevitably let down. It was better this way.
They’d figured out he wasn’t worth their time, so they weren’t wasting more of it on him. Not even to make him his coffee.
When he got to the clubhouse, Alfie standing in the lounge. As if he’d been waiting for… something. Not Rhys. He was sure of that. Not from the startled look in Alfie’s eyes. “I brought you some coffee.”
Alfie’s eyes darted from the cup in Rhys’s hand up to his face. “Is it that fruity drink you had the other day? No thank you.”
Rhys let out a short laugh. As if he didn’t know better. Alfie looked away, and it felt like a whole bucket of baseballs dropped in his stomach, weighing him down. “No. That barista wasn’t behind the counter. I ordered a Venezuelan coffee, thought you’d appreciate it.”
Alfie didn’t say anything at first, and embarrassment flushed through Rhys. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Rhys shoved the cup into Alfie’s hand and turned away.
“How much milk did you put in it?” Alfie asked.
Rhys glanced back and saw he was lifting the cup to his lips. “None. I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish it, so I got it the way you like it. If you don’t want it, you can just toss it.”
That had Alfie pausing for a long moment, but he took a sip. A smile might have curved his lips. “You did not have to do that.”
“It wasn’t a big deal. I went there mostly to flirt, but they couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I’m sure you know how that is.”
Alfie might have flinched. At the mention of Rhys flirting? No, surely not. They were friends. Friends who sometimes kissed and got each other off. Alfie didn’t want more. When Alfie looked over to him, Rhys forced a grin. Everything was just fine. It was always fine.
Rhys would keep telling himself that until it was actually true. Right now he needed to get ready for practice. That was all that could matter.
Rhys waited until everyone else was occupied with however they were spending the time before the start of the game. Rhys would much rather be doing something to get out of his head so he could be ready to play.
That wasn’t happening. Not with the look the skipper had given him when they’d come back into the clubhouse and the mouthed reminder to talk to Brady.
Rhys was pretty sure no one was watching him right now. Not that it would matter. They weren’t going to judge him for talking to the mental skills coach. No one here was like that. He couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of it happening.
What would he do if his teammates realized how messed up his head was and turned their backs on him? He wouldn’t have anything without this team.
That thought continued to cycle through his head as he walked down the short corridor to the offices and knocked on a door.
“Come in, Rhys.”
Rhys opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it quickly behind him. “You know it’s really creepy when you do that. What if it had been someone else?”
Brady arched an eyebrow. “Did we not have an appointment when you were done with practice?”
“Someone else could have still been knocking.”
“You do have a unique knock.” When Rhys stared at him, the doc let out a bark of laughter. “You don’t realize you’re doing it, do you?”
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Rhys said before dropping down in one of the chairs across from Brady. Although Turner had said something about that as well. What did they know that he didn’t?
“No, I can see that,” he said. “So, do you plan to talk to me today?”
“I talked the last time.” Rhys slumped down in the chair. “I talk all the time.”
“You can talk without actually saying anything. You, especially, can do that.”
Yes, that was his specialty. He wasn’t sure he liked how Brady seemed to understand that.
It certainly made bullshitting him a lot harder.
Rhys would try his best. He needed to do whatever he could to get back behind the plate again.
He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take much more of this just sitting on the bench.
“It’s always nice to have my talents appreciated,” Rhys tried to pull off a light laugh.
Brady gave him a long look. Damn it. Why couldn’t he get anything past this man? “Something has been bothering you,” Brady said. “Do you really want it to keep affecting your game? If you’d just talk about it—”
“I don’t see what good that will do. Talking doesn’t change anything.”
“What would you change if you could?”
“Maybe not having a mother who’d abandon her two-year-old in front of a fire station.
” Shit. Rhys had not planned to allow those words to fall right out of his mouth.
He didn’t talk about this. There was a reason for that.
He didn’t want to see the pity or disgust he was sure would be in Brady’s eyes now.
How bad did a kid have to be for their mother to dump him, when she didn’t know what could happen to him? He could have wandered away from that parking lot, gotten hit or been abducted by someone with nefarious plans. Had she cared?
He didn’t know because he’d never seen her again. At least not as far as he knew. He didn’t remember what she looked like, so how would he know?
“Is that how you ended up in the foster system?”
That had Rhys’s head jerking up. “You know?”
Brady held his hands out in front of him.
“It’s not exactly a secret, Rhys. You were drafted in the third round.
You should know they always dig up a lot of information on the players who go that high.
The papers saw it as a rags to riches story.
No family legacy pushing you into baseball, not really any resources.
You were at the draft by yourself, when the others who were invited to attend had large groups with them. ”
Rhys picked at a thread on his pants. He’d done his best to ignore those stories back then.
Knowing what people thought of him never turned out well for him.
“There wasn’t anyone to go with me. I was at college on scholarship, and I hadn’t spoken to my last foster family since…
It doesn’t matter. I had just been glad to get out of Brentley. ”
“That’s where you grew up?”
“You know so much about my past, you should know that.”
“I didn’t say I knew everything.”
“I was shipped to Brentley from New Cresthill when I was sixteen.”
“How many foster families did you live with?”
“I lost count. They ran out of families for me and sent me to a group home when I was sixteen.” After his foster brother caught him kissing Kevin, and beat the shit out of him, and the family punished Rhys, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to stay in that house.
When you ran away constantly, they deemed you a troubled youth and washed their hands of you.
“You know that’s not the way it works.”
“It’s what happened.” He was not getting into the reasons for that.
He wasn’t in the closet, and no one on the team had a problem with it, but he wasn’t crying over the way he’d been treated in the past when he’d just started exploring who he was.
“Even the social workers knew I wasn’t worth the trouble. ”
Damn it, why did words keep popping out of his mouth without his consent? He had not wanted to say that. Especially so, when he saw the way Brady’s mouth pinched.
“You’re worth a lot, Rhys. This whole team knows it.”
“Right, that’s why it was so easy for Skip to bench me.”
Brady shook his head. “You know that was not an easy decision for him to make. It was for your own good as well as the team’s.”
“Because I’m going to fuck things up. Just like I always do. I know.”
“What makes you think you would do that? You’ve always come through for the team.”
“It’s only a matter of time. Why do you think I always got moved to another home?
I couldn’t just listen. I got in too much trouble at school, and they couldn’t discipline me enough to make me behave.
I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t shut up. I couldn’t remember to do the chores I was assigned.
I was too emotional, too volatile. No one ever wanted to deal with me. ”
Brady remained silent for a moment, then he asked, “Were you ever evaluated for ADHD?”
“I just needed to try harder, to be better.”
“You know you can’t control the way your brain works.”
Rhys shrugged one shoulder. That wasn’t the way he’d ever been treated. Just told he should have more self-discipline.
Brady let out a long breath. “You can still be tested.”
“What’s the point?” Rhys asked. “It’s not going to change anything.”
“You don’t think knowing might help you find better coping mechanisms? Systems to help you with the things you struggle with?”
“I don’t know,” Rhys said, not looking at Brady.
He certainly didn’t want to be drugged out.
And he didn’t know how else they could make his brain work differently.
That certainly wouldn’t help him get out on the field.
Speaking of which. “I should go get dressed.” Even if he wasn’t playing, he needed to be out there for the team.
“I’d like to talk to you more about this.”
Rhys nodded as he headed for the door. That was the last thing he wanted.