Chapter 6 Nate
SIX
nate
The mood in the clubhouse had gotten progressively worse. No one liked Tucker Milligan before he slept with Ashley, but now that it had happened, the entire team had gone to corporate ownership and begged for a trade. Milligan was, and always would be, poison to the team.
J.P. Anderson and I were the only two rookies this year.
But J.P. spent three years working his way up from single-A ball to the starting lineup.
I tried to befriend him, but he was standoffish.
Probably because, since he got there, he’d been taking advantage of the special treatment ballplayers get, and I don’t even have a fake ID.
Between the women and the partying, J.P. was making the most of it.
I don’t give a fuck about drinking, and the partying would only make it harder for me to meet my goals. Everything I had done for the past five years was solely to make it to the Big Leagues. And now that I was there? Let’s break some motherfucking records.
The trainers available to me, the access to other world-class athletes, and everything I had learned had firmed up any soft spots in my body. It just moved better.
“You were blessed with natural ability, Nate. But if you don’t harness that, it might as well not exist.”
I remembered the pep talks from Coach Dobbs, who was the first person outside my mother to care about what I did on the field. Before he took me under his wing, I was clueless. And I owed it to him for helping me focus.
I remembered back to the time when Coach sat at my kitchen table with me, my mother, and my agent.
The scouts had been sniffing around, and Coach didn’t want me going into it blindly and without representation.
Had he not done that, I might not have had the signing bonus that heavily subsidized the league minimum salary for the first three years I played.
He still didn’t know that his granddaughter’s scholarship for her expensive dance academy was funded by me, and he never would if I could help it.
What the fuck did I need with all that money?
That’s probably why I get along with Austin so well.
From the short time I spent with him and his sister, I could see that he gives liberally to her.
Fuck, those fights he had with Ashley, where she’d screamed bloody murder over every cent that went to Olivia that she thought she was due—that woman was a goddamn shrew.
If any woman in my life dared to complain about my supporting my mother, well, she wouldn’t be in my life for long.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Reaves is here. I’m not meditating today.” Carlos Martino had resisted all attempts at the meditation sessions I forced on my teammates. The first time, he struggled to settle in, but he was doing better at sitting still. Now more than ever, the team needed mental clarity.
“Remember the last game?” I asked.
“Hitting for the cycle has nothing to do with that new-age shit.” Carlos shook his head, dismissing me. As one of the veterans on the team, his dismissal bothered me most.
Sam Drummond smacked me on the back. “It’s okay, kid, ignore him. He’s superstitious enough that he’ll be there before each game. He’s just bitching because it makes him feel stupid.”
I still couldn’t believe that I shared a locker room with Sam Drummond. And while Milligan and Griffen were dicks, it was good to see men like Sam, family men who didn’t succumb to temptations on the road. There were good men who played ball.
Going to his house on opening day was eye-opening. It just goes to show that you can have everything. Perfect family, beautiful home, and dream career. Exactly where I wanted to be in a few years.
“Monroe, you’re letting the kid around your sister?” Austin’s attention darted to Hunter Gonzalez, our first baseman, and his look alone said What the fuck?
And, fuck me, if he doesn’t spill what I thought I’d told him in confidence.
“He’s got a hard-on for every older woman within sixty feet of him.”
I blamed my obsession with older women on being raised by a single mother, but really, I just preferred the confidence. Older women knew what they wanted and didn’t fuck around and play petty games.
Heat climbed up my neck and over my face.
“That right?” Austin asked, his chin tipped up in confusion. “What did you think of Ashley?”
“I don’t think I should say.” Yeah, Austin left Ashley, but he still had to have feelings for her. “She wasn’t my type.”
“What’s your type?”
I swallowed. It’s not like I could tell him that his sister was my exact type.
Gonzo could barely hold back his laugh when he spilled all my secrets. “Blond, tiny. Oh, and he loves fucking curls. That sound like anyone you know, Austin?”
“Fuck you, Gonzo. Stop acting like I don’t have common decency and self-control. I know his sister is off-limits.”
Just as I finished the sentence, Milligan strolled into the training room and smirked at Austin. Austin’s jaw ticked, but he kept control. If all went well, we wouldn’t have to deal with Tucker Milligan much longer.
Austin and I parted ways after our workout, as he headed off to the attorney’s and I went back to Olivia’s house.