Chapter 4
Beck
Today’s the day. Our final game in the World fucking Series. We all handle game days differently. Some of us have strict game day superstitions and others are a little more lax with it, but today is different. Everyone seems to be on edge…well, except me.
Nerves? Yeah, those don’t exist for me on the ballfield. Outside the game, they definitely do, but not here. Not in my uniform. It’s been six grueling games of equal wins and loses that’s led us to game seven, but frankly I’ve never felt more confident.
Adjusting my hat outside the guest locker room, I can already hear the crowd. Then I hear the flashes of a camera.
“I think you’re the only one giving me decent candids today,” Callie says with a laugh.
“Oh, I’m so telling Will. Have your camera ready, I want candid pictures of his reaction.”
“Trust me, my man’s plenty photogenic.” Callie lets her camera hang on its strap as she walks up to me. “I meant you’re the only one not looking like a robot about to take over the world.”
Humph. She’s not wrong. My lax attitude might come off as cocky or uncaring, but anyone who thinks that is wrong.
“We deserve to be here. I’m not too stressed about something I know we earned the right to have.”
Callie hums. “You know, I couldn’t have related to words less at the beginning of this season, but now—”
“Now you see how fucking awesome you are.”
Callie hits my shoulder. “More like how awesome I am when I’m with the right people. People who actually care.”
“Crazy concept, isn’t it?”
“It sure is, but also quite simple when I think about it.” Callie looks at her watch. “I’m going to go talk to Will in the bullpen before I head to the field. Don’t forget, Luce is counting on you guys to win this bet to get Dex playing again.”
I let out a humph in amusement. “That fucker’s gonna play whether we win or lose.”
“I thought the same thing. So maybe we win for us instead?” Callie holds up her hand for a high-five.
I lightly clap my hand to hers. “Hell yeah, we will. Now, go, or you’ll be late for your and Will’s not-so-secret pregame closet make-out session you think we all don’t know about.”
Callie waves me off then turns to walk away. “Oh, we know you all know, we just don’t care.”
Yeah, I should’ve figured that. “Have fun,” I holler over my shoulder.
“I will!” she yells back.
I shake my head as my phone vibrates in my back pocket. Shit, I’ve got to put that away before I head to the dugout. Pulling it out, I see I have the best texts.
Dad
Mom’s had a great day. We’re sitting down now to watch and she’s so excited.
Jenni-cakes
Don’t make me regret this.
*picture of poster with writing in all caps: My Stalker is Playing in the World Series*
My thumbs type and erase several messages to Jensen, teasing her for not coming to LA with us first before ultimately switching to respond to my dad.
Happy to hear. Now wish me luck and call me tomorrow when you can.
Walking back in the locker room, a few of the players are still psyching themselves up, while others have already made their way to the dugout.
I pull up Jensen’s message thread one more time. Scrolling back, I see the many texts from myself and the occasional response from her. I should probably take the hint, but then I pull up the picture of her sign again. Is that…a heart for the exclamation point?
Well, that’s interesting.
“Hey.” Tripp comes up behind me with a shake to my shoulders. “You ready for this?”
I toss my phone in my bag without responding. “When am I ever not ready for a game?”
“You have got to be one of the weirdest people I know. Do you ever get stressed?”
“Fuck off, of course I do.” I shove him as I turn around to walk out to the dugout. “Just not about this. Hey, a hundred bucks says I can hit a home run this game.”
Tripp lets out a tsk. “You should be studied.”
“Can’t say I disagree with ya.”
And eight innings later, I may not be a hundred dollars richer, but I’m still on fire. I’ve had beautiful line drive after beautiful line drive. Best believe I’ve started dedicating every one to Dex.
I’m pretty sure he gets a wave of regret for this bet—and our friendship—each time.
By the bottom of the ninth, I’ve all but considered our win locked down. We’re up 4–2, and even though the Rays bat last, I’m pretty sure they’ve already accepted their defeat with their first batter striking out.
The second out is a pop-up caught in outfield. The only thing standing between us now and our World Series win is one more out, and I’m going to be the one to get it.
My eyes find Dex in the dugout, and the fucker already knows.
A ground ball is hit, but that’s fine, nothing we can’t handle. Our shortstop, Mateo, scoops it up with ease then sends it my way.
My favorite sound of the ball connecting with my glove comes, followed by the ump yelling “out.”
That’s game.
Now this is a fucking high. From the fireworks shooting off, the confetti falling, and countless beers being sprayed, we’re all on cloud nine.
I let Dex have his time with Lucie and Miles on the field, but he can’t escape me in the locker room.
“What’d I tell you, asshole?” I shake his shoulders as I come up behind him.
Dex turns around with a small shove and a chuckle. “Can’t say I doubted you, but ya know, you could not be so cocky about it.”
“Everyone says cocky, I say confident—and fucking right, mind you. I want a copy of your signed contract framed on my wall.”
“You and Luce both.” Dex shakes his head, then makes his way over to his duffle. “Come on, I want to show you something.” He searches through it for a minute before pulling something out. “Now, don’t fucking saying anything.”
I cross my finger over my chest then hold my hands up. “Okay, Dad, chill.”
Dex rolls his eyes, but then holds out the ring box. “Gonna ask Lucie to marry me when we get back to Boston. Figured since you were rooting for us the most—”
You know, I didn’t think tonight could have gotten better, but I stand corrected.
“Fuck, man, I’m so happy for you. You deserve another shot at playing, with someone in the crowd actually cheering for you. I mean, I always cheer for you, but you know I’m not the pretty blond.”
Dex gives me a small punch before putting the ring back. “I do prefer Lucie’s cheers to yours, but I appreciate you. Thanks for always being there.”
“God, Lucie’s turned you sappy,” I joke but recover quick before he hits me again. “I appreciate you too. And really, so happy for you and Luce. You guys gonna come out with us to bar hop our winning?”
“Nah, Luce said she isn’t feeling too great so we’re just gonna go back to the hotel.” Dex pulls his bag on his shoulder and claps my back. “Have fun and don’t call me for bail. You all figure that shit out on your own.”
“Eh, your brother-in-law can handle that,” I say with a shrug as he starts to the door.
I expect him to flip me off, curse me out, or something, but he doesn’t. Simply tosses his hand up with a wave. “Sounds good to me.”
Hell, Lucie really has made him a softie.
We make our way back to the hotel to clean up, and I feel so much fucking relief when I take my contacts out of my eyes. Nothing makes me happier than switching to my glasses after a game.
Pulling out my phone, I bring up Jensen’s message again. She’s bound to be asleep, I’m sure, but frankly, I never truly expect a response from her even when she’s awake.
Can I hang your poster in the Blues clubhouse? I think it should be my new good luck charm.
Much to my surprise, she replies.
Jenni-cakes
Funny I was sure that all the looks you gave Dex during the game meant he would be your new good luck charm.
Should someone tell Lucie you have a crush on her man?
First Lucie is well aware. Second YOU WATCHED ME?!
Maybe you have a crush on me
Don’t let your win get to your head Beckham. I’m still out of your league.
I’ve made it from little league to the majors. Don’t underestimate my game.
Don’t undermine my ability to file for a restraining order.
Looking forward to stalking you when I get back to Boston.
Goodnight Beckham.
Hope your dreams are full of me.
And tell Dottie goodnight from me.