14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
“ S o what have you been doing while I’ve been away? You done all the tourist stuff yet?”
Bailey shrugged. “Not really. I’ve gone to the pier and the beach a few times.”
“You been to Old Town?”
“No, not yet.”
“You want to go there for dinner?” he asked.
Bailey’s eyes brightened. “Yes. But are you sure you want to do that? It’s pretty touristy and I’d imagine that would be a pain for you.”
“Nah, it’ll be fine. Plus, there’s good food. Leave in half an hour?”
“I’ll be ready.” Bailey hopped up from the couch and hurried down the hall to her room.
It was nice having her here. The apartment didn’t feel so empty. The second he’d opened the door, he’d known she was home and he hadn’t even seen her yet. The apartment just felt different.
The start of the season had been tough. For the first time in his career, he’d been lonely. Now that his closest teammates were all in committed relationships, he was on his own a lot more. They didn’t want to go for beers when they got back to town. They were too eager to get home. He understood it, but it still sucked for him. Until now. Having Bailey here changed that.
He wandered into his bedroom and headed straight into the walk-in closet. The zipper stuck on his beat-up overnight bag. The brown leather bag had been one of his first purchases after he’d signed with the Hawks’ farm team. Since then, the old bag had gone everywhere with him. There were a lot of memories in this thing. The zipper snagged again and he cursed. He didn’t want to have to get a new one. When he finally got it open, he pulled out his dirty clothes and dumped them in the laundry basket. He peeled off his shirt and tossed it on the top of the pile, his pants quickly followed suit. The moment he got home, the first thing he always did was change out of his travel clothes. Who the hell knew what was in those seats? Planes were like a giant petri dish. He had no intention of turning his apartment into one as well. He grabbed a pair of jeans off the hanger and stepped into them but didn’t bother to do them up.
“Um Gonz?” Bailey called.
“Yeah?” He popped his head out of the closet. Bailey looked at him and her eyes widened and, if he wasn’t mistaken, lingered on his waist. He looked down at his undone jeans and bit back a grin. “Eyes up, Bay.”
Her head snapped up. “What?” She shook her head. Almost as soon as her head stopped moving, her cheeks instantly turned red.
Busted. She’d definitely been looking. “You need something, Bay?”
“Sorry. I just wanted to check what kind of place you wanted to eat at, so I knew what to wear.”
“I’m going jeans.”
“Um…so I s—see,” she stammered.
He couldn’t help himself, he had to flex, just a little, and was rewarded with a visible swallow from Bailey. The kind of swallow that says her brain had short-circuited ever so slightly. “I was thinking we’d do Mexican. There are a couple of cool places with outdoor seating and live music. Gotta good casual vibe.”
Her eyes dipped to his waist again, then quickly snapped back up. “Right, casual, good.” She flashed him a thumbs up.
What the hell? Gonzo barked out a laugh. “You okay?”
“Of course.” She sighed. “But my god why are your pants undone? And why does it look like you aren’t wearing underwear?”
“Because I’m not.”
“Who does that?” she screeched.
“I only have a couple of clean pairs left, and I need them for the next road trip. I’m taking you for dinner. I don’t have time to do laundry.”
Bailey stepped past him and grabbed hold of the laundry basket and dragged it toward herself.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Your laundry. Now put some damn underwear on,” she growled. Turning on her heel, she hoisted the basket into her arms and marched out of the bedroom.
“Wouldn’t have taken you for a prude, Bay,” he called after her.
“I’m not a prude, it’s just good hygiene,” she yelled back.
Alone in the closet once more, he glanced down at his waistband. Then shrugged and pulled up his zipper and buttoned the jeans. Why bother? The jeans were already on.
He pulled a blue henley off the shelf and slipped it over his head.
Grabbing his shaving kit out of his overnight bag, he wandered into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Gonzo stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. He flicked his hand through his hair to tame the little tuft that seemed to have a mind of its own. The hair instantly popped straight back up. Fantastic. He stuck his hand under the tap and wet his fingers, then slapped his hand onto the unruly tuft. After several more attempts, the thick chunk of dark hair finally surrendered and lay flat.
He quickly brushed his teeth, used the washroom, then grabbed his wallet off the dresser and made his way to the kitchen.
When Bailey walked in several minutes later, he sucked in a breath. “Wow, that’s some top,” he told her.
Bailey chewed her bottom lip, looked down at herself and flattened her palm down the front of her outfit. “Does it look okay?”
“Looks more than okay.” His eyes instantly darted back to her chest, and he forced himself to look away from her breasts. Damn.
She fidgeted with the deep V of the shirt and pulled it up slightly. “I’m not sure I can pull this off.”
Gonzo walked over to her and grabbed her hand. “Stop. You look beautiful.”
She shifted her shoulders forward like somehow the movement would adjust the neckline.
“Bay, shirts like this were made for a body like yours.”
She grimaced. “It’s a lot of cleavage.”
His eyes instantly darted to the cleavage in question. She wasn’t wrong. The sight of her full breasts on display like that practically made his mouth water. He bit back a groan. “Like I said, that shirt looks like it was made for you. So stop fidgeting and own it.”
Bailey took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Sometimes being a good friend sucked. Bailey might be feeling more confident, but now he was going to have to fight to keep his eyes on her face all night instead of looking at her chest.
Once they arrived in Old Town, they wandered down the street, weaving in and out of the shops before stopping to watch a couple of older women making tortillas in front of a Mexican restaurant. Bailey stood raptly, watching the woman rolling the dough.
Gonzo eyed the large outdoor seating area at the attached restaurant. “You want to just eat here?”
“Sure.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the host stand. “You want me to ask for a seat so you can keep watching?” he teased.
“No, but you gotta admit that was impressive. I thought your mom was good at it, but that lady? She whipped out like ten tortillas in the time I would have been able to maybe do one.”
“I’m pretty sure she has a lot more practice at it than you do.”
“But still.” Bailey glanced over her shoulder at the woman again. “We’re buying some of those on our way out.”
“Two please,” he said to the hostess.
“Inside or out?”
Gonzo looked at Bailey for confirmation. “Out?”
“Yes, please.”
The hostess picked up a couple of menus. “Follow me, please.”
The woman wove her way through the tables and stopped at a table for two against the railing that enclosed the restaurant. Gonzo smirked at Bailey. “Look at that. You can still watch her.” He nodded toward the old woman. “You take this side.” He pulled out the chair facing the tortilla stand and gestured for Bailey to sit.
Bailey slid into her seat and he adjusted her chair behind her. He pulled out his own chair and sat down. He gripped the arm of the chair to pull himself closer to the table and his finger sunk into something sticky. Gross. He pulled his hand back and pink bubble gum stuck to his fingers. He held up his hand to the hostess. “Can I maybe get a different chair?”
The woman’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Of course. Let me get you a new table.”
“Nah, the table’s fine. Just a different chair would be awesome.” He smiled reassuringly at the hostess, then looked down at his hand and wrinkled his nose. “I’m just gonna go wash my hand while you grab a new chair.” He glanced down at Bailey. “Be right back.”
Conscious of not wanting to touch anything with his gummy fingers, he held his hand out from his body as he wove his way through the restaurant toward the washrooms at the back of the building. As he was passing by a table, a guy grabbed his arm. Gonzo looked down at the hand still wrapped around his forearm, then raised his eyebrow at the hand’s owner.
“You’re Ramon Gonzalez right?” the guy asked.
“Yeah, I am.”
“You guys sucked against Atlanta.”
What the fuck? The dude seriously stopped him for that? “It wasn’t our best showing.”
“No shit,” the guy scoffed. “You guys gonna win this time?”
Gonzo’s jaw clenched at the guy’s douchebag tone. What he wanted to do was just keep walking, but he’d had the whole PR optics talk drilled into him so many times he knew the importance of at least trying to be nice to the fans. “That’s always the plan,” he said.
Douchebag snorted. “Yeah, that’s working well.”
What the hell was wrong with people? Gonzo closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to wash my hands and get back to my table.” He flashed a tight smile and stepped away from the table. “Asshole,” he muttered to himself.
He’d barely walked past two tables before he was stopped again. “Sorry to bother you,” the man at this table said.
“Mmm-hmm.” Gonzo pasted on a tight smile.
“Any chance I can get an autograph for my kid?” the man asked.
A little girl who looked like she was about eight years old looked up at him shyly in her Hawks jersey.
He smiled down at her. “I like the shirt.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Turn around and show him the back,” the dad said.
The little girl spun in her seat. Gonzalez was sprawled across the back of her jersey.
“Nice. You’ve got good taste.”
The dad held up a pen hopefully.
Gonzo looked down at his hand and winced. “Ugh, let me just wash my hand. I stuck it in some gum. I’ll sign it for you on my way back.”
“Sure, thank you.”
He quickly washed his hands. Why the hell would someone stick their gum under the arm of the chair? Under the middle of the table maybe, but the arm of the chair? Gross.
On his way back to his seat, he stopped at the family’s table. “Who am I making this out to?”
“Her name is Sadie.” The dad looked fondly at his daughter as he said her name.
Gonzo scrawled the little girl’s name and his signature on the napkin and handed it to her. “Dream big, Sadie,” the little girl read out loud. “Thank you.”
“I want one too,” her little sister whined.
“You don’t even like baseball,” Sadie scoffed.
“Do too.” The little girl scowled back at her sister.
Gonzo grabbed another cocktail napkin off the table. “What’s your name?”
“Jessica.” The little girl stuck out her tongue at her sister.
He quickly wrote on the napkin and handed it back to her.
“What’s it say?” Jessica asked.
The dad chuckled. “Jessica, Baseball Rules. Ramon Gonzalez.” He ruffled his daughter’s head, then turned to Gonzo. “Thank you so much, sorry to pull you from your evening. We really appreciate it.”
“No problem, have a good night,” Gonzo said.
He stepped away from the table and the asshole from earlier held up a pen. “Can I get one too?”
“Are you serious?” Gonzo asked.
“Yeah.”
“You literally just said how much I sucked.”
“So?”
“So, sorry, man, no. Autographs are just for the kids tonight.”
He dimly heard the guy talking to his friend about what a dick he was as he walked past. Talking to fans when he was out and about was one thing. Giving any attention to assholes like that was not worth his time.
As he rounded the corner of the restaurant and glanced toward his table, he pulled up short. What the fuck? There was a guy in his seat. It took him a second to take in the pinched expression on Bailey’s face before his brain connected the dots on exactly who the guy was. Brad.
He stalked toward the table. The second Bailey’s gaze landed on him, her face lost the deer in headlights look.
Without thinking, he walked up and cupped the back of her head with his palm and brought his mouth down onto hers. The second their lips touched he knew it was a mistake. There was no way he was going to be happy just being friends with her. Not after feeling her lips against his and knowing what it felt like to kiss her. Bailey’s lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t help himself he needed more. He swept his tongue out and brushed it against hers. Fuck, he wanted to take this deeper. But now was not the time or the place. Reluctantly he stopped. “Sorry that took so long.”
When he pulled back, Bailey had that deer in the headlights look again, but this time instead of panic it was more of a wow, kind of daze. He knew exactly how she was feeling. Steeling his breath, he turned to Bailey’s ex. “You’re in my seat.”
“What the hell’s going on here?” Brad demanded.
“You’re in my seat,” he said again.
“What happened to just friends?” Brad glared at Bailey.
“What happened to being faithful?” Bailey snapped.
“Bay, you done talking with good ol’ Brad here?” Gonzo asked.
“I was done before we started.”
Gonzo crossed his arms over his chest, making sure to flex as he did, just in case Brad neglected to notice the difference in their sizes. “Like Bailey said, she’s done, so I’m gonna ask you again to get out of my seat.”
“Fine, I’ll let you get back to your pity date,” Brad laughed mockingly.
Bailey’s eyes flared with anger. “Pity date?”
“Come on Bailey, you can’t honestly believe he’d be interested in you.”
The spark in Bailey’s eye that had been there a moment before vanished, making every protective instinct in Gonzo flare to the surface. “Why wouldn’t I be interested in her?” he asked.
Brad snorted. “Because I’ve seen the pictures of the women you date. Bailey’s not even close to being in the same league.”
“No, you’re right, she’s not.” He paused, then seeing the brief glimmer of malicious glee in Brad’s face, he said, “She’s better.” No longer caring about public appearances, he allowed his disgust at the other man to show on his face. “You were just too stupid to see it.”
Gonzo stepped closer to Bailey and smiled down at her. “Thank god I wasn’t,” he said. Threading his fingers through her hair, he cupped the back of her head as he leaned in and placed another kiss against her mouth. He kept his hand on the back of her neck when he stood up to face Brad again. “I guess I should be thankful she’d already taken the job here before she found out what an asshole you are, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten my chance.”
Brad shoved back from the table, and without saying another word, he stalked back to his own table.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gonzo could see the men at Brad’s tables looking over and talking. He bit back a smile at the pissed off look on Brad’s face. San Diego was full of Hawks’ fans, and it looked like Brad was sitting at a table full of them. Turned out being recognized wasn’t all bad.
“What was that?” Bailey whispered.
He pulled his attention off Brad and his friends and back to Bailey. “What was what?”
“That.” She flapped her hand. “The whole kiss and — ugh.”
“He pissed me off.” Why was she getting annoyed with him? Brad had been the one being an asshole.
“Obviously. But why would you pretend we were dating?”
“Where the fuck does he get off saying shit like that? Like you couldn’t hold my attention. That’s bullshit,” he grumbled.
“Gonzo, we both know I couldn’t.”
His head snapped up. “Fuck that,” he growled. “You could hold my attention just fine.” More than fine, unfortunately, that was part of the problem. He wasn’t supposed to notice how sexy his friend was.
“Right,” she mumbled.
Hating the insecurity so clearly obvious in the way her body slumped, he reached across the table and grabbed her hand. “Bay.” He paused. “Look at me.”
She raised her head. Tears swam in her eyes and it broke his heart.
“Brad’s a fucking pussy. He’s not man enough to handle a woman like you, and he knows it. That’s why he fucking cheated.” He stroked her wrist with his thumb, enjoying the way her pulse raced beneath his finger. He’d probably regret saying this, but what the hell. “I am and believe me when I say you’ve got my attention. You always have.”
Bailey snorted. “Yeah right.”
“Who was the first person I called after the draft?”
“Me.”
“And after my first pro game?”
“Me,” she whispered.
“And when I was going to make an offer on my place?”
“Me.” She raised her head. Their gaze connected and held. Surely she could feel it too.
“But that’s just because we’re friends.”
“Bailey, you’re the first person I want to call when I have good news and the only person I want to have by my side for the bad. That means something.”
“Yeah, that we’re still best friends.” She looked at him, then sighed. “You’ve never looked at me like that, like a woman, though.”
“You don’t know how I’ve looked at you.”
“Come on Gonzo, you fucked anything in a skirt when we were in high school.”
“Yep, and did I ever get serious about any of them?”
“No.”
“Exactly. I’ve fucked a lot of girls, Bay. Never loved any of them.”
“You never wanted to fuck me.”
If only that were true. “I never wanted to lose you.”
Bailey glanced around the restaurant. “Are we really having this conversation here, of all places? With Brad right over there.”
“Seems so.” He slid his chair around the side of the table closer to her, so his knees bracketed her thighs.
Bailey sighed. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but you can’t rewrite history, Gonzo. You never wanted me.”
“I never let myself want you. There’s a difference.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was a fucking kid, determined to make it out of our shitty town. Nothing was going to hold me back from that.”
“Okay?”
He looked down at their hands as he dragged his thumb back and forth on her wrist. “Even as a kid, I knew what you could mean to me if I let you.”
Bailey leaned closer. “What are you talking about?”
“Us, you and me.” He sighed. “Nothing was going to fuck up me reaching my dreams and you could have.”
“How?”
“I wasn’t in a place to have a relationship with anyone then and I wasn’t going to fuck up our friendship just to get you in bed. So I didn’t even let myself think of you like that. I couldn’t go there with you.” He dragged his hand through his hair. “I probably shouldn’t now, but here we are.”
Bailey glanced over his shoulder. “Is this about Brad?”
“What?”
The server walked up to their table. “Can I get you something to drink?”
This probably wasn’t the time or the place. “Yeah.” Gonzo shoved his chair back, then looked at Bailey. “You want to do margaritas?”
When she looked up, she had that deer in headlights thing going on again and he cursed himself for getting into this now. It hadn’t exactly been his smoothest delivery.
Bailey nodded. “Sure.”
“Can we get a couple of margaritas and some chips and guac, please?”
“Of course. Do you need more time with the menu?”
“Haven’t even looked at it yet, sorry. We’ll be ready to order when you get back.”
“Take your time,” the girl said.
Once they were alone, he looked over at Bailey who sat watching him, her face the picture of confusion. “Why don’t we table this till we get home?”
“But—”
“Bay, if we are going to have a hope in hell of convincing Brad that there’s something going on between us, you’re going to have to lose the shellshocked look.”
“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what you just said.”
“Why’s it so hard to believe I’ve always thought you were attractive?”
“Because I look in the mirror every day, Gonzo. I know what I look like.”
“Well, clearly you’re not seeing what I see.” What kind of number had Brad done on her that she didn’t see how beautiful she was?
“Gonzo, you don’t date girls who look like me.”
“That’s because there’s only ever been one you, Bailey.” Finally, something he said seemed to land and an incredibly sexy blush swept across the swell of Bailey’s breasts and up her cheeks.
She glanced up and rolled her eyes. “Very smooth, Gonz.”
“Simply telling it how it is.”
“Mmm-hmm, alright, Casanova, how about you dial it back?”
He barked out a laugh and covered his hand over his heart. “Ouch and that right there is why I love you, Bailey. You sure know how to keep a guy grounded.”
“Mmm-hmm, anyway.” The corner of her mouth tipped up with amusement. “How was the road trip?”
“You saw the game against Atlanta.” He was still pissed off about the shitty call in the bottom of the fifth. There was no way the guy had been safe. He’d tagged him long before Richards touched the bag, but the asshole swore up and down he hadn’t connected and the angle of the replay wasn’t clear. Next time he’d bruise the fucker he’d tag ‘em so hard.
“Sucks you guys lost all three, but you played well every game.”
“For all the good it did.”
“The curse of the team sport. All you can do is give it your best and hope your teammates do as well.” Bailey placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed his leg the way she always did, but it felt different tonight.
He placed his hand on top of hers and linked their fingers. “I don’t think some of the guys got the memo. Management needs to make some changes to the lineup. There’s no way Knight should be batting lead. He’s setting the tone for the entire game and he fucking sucks right now.”
Bailey smirked at him. “I see that hasn’t changed either.”
“What’s that?”
“Coach Gonzalez is in the house.”
He lifted his hand off her lap slightly and flipped her the bird. Bailey burst out laughing like he knew she would.
“I’m just saying.” Bailey clicked her cheeks. “Easy to coach from the sidelines.”
“Easy to see when you’re batting cleanup and have no one to fucking hit home, too.”
“Well, if that’s the problem, it sounds like more than just Knight didn’t get the job done against Atlanta.”
“Yeah, Pete’s head was up his ass because Kendall was late.”
“I didn’t realize she went to your away games.”
He chuckled. “Not that kind of late.”
“Oh.” Bailey’s eyes widened. “Is she pregnant?”
“No idea. Guess we’ll find out.” Now that he thought about it, it was kind of weird that Pete hadn’t texted the group chat either way.
“Brad keeps looking over here,” Bailey mumbled out of the side of her mouth.
He pulled his chair closer to hers again, bracketing her legs with his. “Well then, let’s give him something to look at.” He reached out and picked up the pendant of her necklace. “I like this. What is it?” Allowing the back of his hand to rest against the swell of her breast, he ran his index finger along her collarbone as he held the crystal between his other fingers.
“Umm.” Her breath hitched. “It’s citrine.”
“Citrine? Never heard of it.”
“Mmm, it’s supposed to be good for joy and abundance and balance. Or at least that’s what Rayne told me.”
“It’s pretty. The color reminds me of the sun.”
“The sun, huh? Look at you being all poetic.”
“What can I say? I’m a deep guy.” He allowed the stone to drop against the top of her breasts. His gaze lingered on the stone resting in her cleavage.
“Gonzo?”
He snapped his head up. Bailey stared back at him expectantly. “Sorry what?” he asked.
“Got mesmerized by the sun there, did ya?” she teased.
“Absolutely.” He flicked another glance at the yellow stone resting on her breasts. “I’m just gonna be a total pig here and get this out of the way. I remember you having a great rack, but I don’t remember it being this great.”
She snorted. “The only benefit to the extra pounds I’ve put on.”
“I don’t know that it’s the only benefit. Your ass looks pretty good, too.”
“You don’t think it’s too big?”
“Too big for what?”
She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged.
Hating how insecure she seemed to feel about her body, he slid his hands up the side of her thighs and rested them on her hips. Bailey’s chest rose and she licked her lips.
What he really wanted to do was grab her ass and make it crystal clear there wasn’t a single thing wrong with it, but this wasn’t the place for that. Needing to keep it PG, he squeezed her hips with both hands. “Feels perfect to me.”
“Brad said, anything more than a handful was a waste.”
“I thought we’ve already established Brad’s a fucking idiot.”
“We did,” she replied.
“So he doesn’t deserve any space in this head of yours.” He held her stare. “What was that lecture of yours I sat in a couple years back? Kinks through the ages or something like that, right?”
“Yeah?” Her forehead wrinkled as her eyes narrowed in question.
“So explain to me how Brad needing to denigrate a woman to get off means there’s something wrong with you.”
Bailey’s gaze darted toward where Brad was sitting. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Bay, you teach this shit. Clearly, you can see exactly what kind of guy Brad is.”
“Umm.” She blinked several times like her brain was trying to play catch-up with his train of thoughts.
“He puts you down, makes you feel like shit about your body to the point you’re grateful for any scraps he gives you. Meanwhile, he’s doing the whole power play fuck his assistant thing and stringing you both on?” The guy sounded pretty pathetic to him.
“Oh my god, you’re right.” Bailey gaped at him. “Why did I not see that?”
He raised one shoulder. “Like you said, sometimes it’s hard to see when you’re in the middle of the game.”
A server walked up to their table carrying two plates. He held up his right hand slightly. “Taco platter?”
Bailey raised her hand. The server slid a steaming plate filled with tacos, rice, and beans in front of her.
“That must mean you’re the enchiladas divorciadas,” the man said as he set a large platter in front of Gonzo. “Can I bring you anything else?”
Gonzo looked over at Bailey, staring raptly at her plate. “I think we’re good, man.”
“Enjoy.”
He leaned down and inhaled his dinner. “Smells good.”
“I’m never going to be able to eat all this,” Bailey said.
“Feel free to pass over anything you don’t want.”
Bailey picked up a taco and set it on his plate.
“You haven’t even started. How do you know you aren’t going to want it?”
“Trust me, I know. There’s enough food for two people here.” Bailey opened her napkin and draped it over her lap. She eyed his plate. “Everything looks so good.”
“Is that your way of saying you’re hoping for a bite of mine?”
“No,” she scoffed.
He cut off a small section of each enchilada. “Yeah right. Bring your plate over.” He laughed.
Bailey grinned and slid her plate toward him. “Thank you. Brad hated sharing his food with me.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “I don’t know, but then again, he would have taken one look at my platter and immediately said I needed to take half of it home.”
“Hold up.” Gonzo held up his hand. “Are you seriously telling me he policed what you ate?”
Bailey nodded.
“What the hell, Bailey. Why the fuck did you stay with him so long?” he growled.
“He didn’t do it at first and slowly, over time, it started and…” She pursed her lips tightly, then shrugged slightly. “I don’t know.”
Gonzo glanced over his shoulder at Brad’s table. The asshole sat with his buddies like he was holding court. Turning back around, he pinned Bailey with a stare. “Alright. From now on, let’s agree you’re a smart, grown ass woman who can make up her own mind. No more doing shit you don’t want to do.”
He held out his hand toward her. Bailey raised her hand and placed her palm in his. Gonzo firmly shook her hand. “You want to eat something. You eat it. You want something in the bedroom you say so and you sure as fuck speak up if you don’t. Deal?”
“Who says we’ll be doing stuff in the bedroom?”
How cute. A slow, confident smile spread across his face. “Oh, there’s no doubt we’ll be going to the bedroom, Bailey. The only question is when.”