Chapter 43
Levi
Players move in and out throughout the season and during preseason training this year, there seems to be more shuffling than normal with some last minute trades.
My pitching is good, but I’m still not throwing like I was before my injury.
It gets better every day. Unfortunately, the new guys they brought in are phenomenal making my stomach turn, feeding my concern.
My thoughts drift back to the possibility of a trade, especially knowing I was already on Joey’s list. He’d gladly send me somewhere across the country.
Sighing, I massage my shoulder and arm. My muscles are sore as hell and I’d love to jump in the damn shower. Instead, I’m here waiting for one of our trainers. Derek will likely be the one helping me. He’s okay, but he’s nothing like Layla.
Damn, I miss her.
Grabbing my cell, I dial her number, hoping to hear her voice while I wait. She answers almost instantly, bringing a smile to my face. “Levi, hi.”
“Hi, beautiful. I miss you.”
“I only have a few minutes, but you called at a good time. How are you calling right now?”
Chuckling, I explain, “I’m waiting for one of the trainers. My arm is a little sore, so they want me to have it looked at.”
“You probably need my hands,” she teases.
“You have no idea,” I groan, imagining her hands on me. Swiftly shaking the thought away, not wanting to get worked up here, I ask, “How’s everything going?”
“So much better,” she croons. “Apparently, Cal got traded yesterday. I don’t know where, but I don’t care. I will never have to put my hands on him again.”
A smile curves my lips as I breathe a sigh of relief.
I knew Gabe was trying to keep him away from Layla, but work is work and it doesn’t always happen the way we would like.
I wanted to fly up just to pummel that asshole when she told me about him messing with her last week. “That’s fantastic news.”
“Yeah, I thought so too,” she agrees, her happiness evident. I hear someone calling her name in the background. “I’m sorry, Levi, but I gotta get back to work. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Heaving a sigh, I disconnect and set my phone down next to me as a player I don’t recognize walks up. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him. Must be one of the new guys. “This is where the training rooms are?” he inquires.
Glancing at him, I nod. “Yeah.”
Holding out his hand, he introduces himself, “Just got traded from the Mavericks.” My heart stops as I stare at the man who screamed for my attention with only one word, already knowing the name about to spew from his mouth. “Cal Hurst.”
Fuck. Layla’s asshole ex is my new teammate. I grip his hand a little tighter than I should, his eyes narrowing. “Levi Brennan,” I grit my name through my teeth.
He laughs, ripping his hand away. “Got any tips on clubs that like players?” he questions.
“I need a night out after the shit week I just went through.” Quirking my brow, I remain silent, fisting my hands at my sides to keep myself from doing something stupid, but he keeps fucking talking.
“My ex started working on my old team and couldn’t keep her hands off me.
We get caught and I’m the one that gets traded.
The bitch’s brother likely helped with that. ”
“Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you,” I seethe, my insides bouncing off the walls with unrepressed anger.
A sinister smirk curls Cal’s lips telling me he knows exactly who I am and he’s intentionally pushing me. “So, you are the Lion I heard is fucking my ex. I don’t blame you, she has such a sweet pussy.”
I barely register the man himself or the sneer on his face before I swing, two of my teammates yanking me off the dirtbag.
Shit.
Cal Hurst is my new teammate.
When they let me go, I storm down the hall and into coach’s office, vibrating with anger. This can’t be fucking happening. “I can’t work with him Coach.”
“Who? What the fuck just happened?” Coach asks, looking up from his desk.
Joey jogs in after me, nudging my shoulder back with barely restrained anger. “What the hell are you doing laying a hand on Cal Hurst? You’re the fucking veteran here. You should know better than to hit anyone, let alone a new teammate.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Does that matter when you’re on the same team?”
I shake my head in denial. “No fucking way.”
“The fucking ego on you, Brennan. And even you know your numbers aren’t back to what they should be after your injury. You’re done. Finished!” Spinning on his heel, he storms out of the office just as fast as he flew in.
Coach looks at me and sighs, disappointment shining in his eyes. Running his hand through his thick gray hair he drops it onto his desk. “Shit, Brennan. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry Coach, but…”
He holds up his hands to stop me. “Save it Brennan. It doesn’t matter. It’s done. See the physical therapist and get the fuck out of here.” I give him a firm nod. “But come see me first thing in the morning.”
“Got it, Coach.”
He huffs a humorless laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “With what I know, maybe this will end up as a gift for you, but you can’t take this back.”
“If you’re talking about Hurst, I don’t want to take it back. He deserved it and so much worse.”
Ignoring my comment, he says, “Good luck, Levi. See you bright and early.” Then, he drops his head, focusing back on his work, dismissing me.
My eyebrows draw down in confusion, but I do as he directed, still fuming.
Cal Hurst is a fucking asshole. I can’t believe he was traded here. There’s no way I can be civil to that man, especially with what he said to me.
What the fuck am I gonna do?