11. Baseball Daddy #2
Only that he’s dating my best friend so I’m intimately familiar with that man by proxy
Fletcher
Oh yeahhhh
I forget you’re besties with THE Elizabeth Harding
Isabella
Hard to believe you forgot about a girl like her
Fletcher
I only see you baby ;)
My stomach flips at his message.
No, no stomach flipping!
Isabella
Fletcher…
Fletcher
I know, I know
“Not your baby”
“Stop flirting”
I cough out a laugh at his messages, knowing how predictable my scolding is. But also, if he jokes like this in texts, all it takes is for him to make one slip up at a game and call me ‘baby’ or some other pet name in front of the whole crew and I’ll be fired.
Fletcher
I’m done now
So who is your pick?
Isabella
Oh, I have no clue honestly
Liz would be fun, because she knows me well enough I feel like she could actually do me justice
Fletcher
Oh yeah, that’s a good thought
Got time for one more or is it grandma’s bedtime?
Isabella
It’s grandma’s bedtime
Fletcher
I’ll allow it but only because we just got to the hotel and I’m beat too
Talk to you tomorrow, bestie!
Isabella
Not your bestie
Fletcher
Not yet you aren’t!
I roll my eyes as I set my phone down.
I hate to say it, but I watched the game again.
I don’t know what drove me to do it, but I did.
And they lost this time. I felt so sad for the guys that I did a thing.
I texted Fletcher. Again. Who am I and why do I keep initiating conversations with this man?
I keep sending him mixed signals, I know.
It’s not like I mean to. It’s just that I think I might like for him to be my friend too?
But I have work to think about.
I don’t know what to do. Will a friendship count as fraternization? It doesn’t with Liz, but maybe they’re treating Liz as an exception? Is a friendship with Fletcher worth the risk? I don’t think I have the answer to that yet.
I sigh as I settle into bed and look back at the messages I sent. Ones that remain unanswered.
Isabella
Sorry about your loss tonight
You’ll get them tomorrow
I’m about to roll over to plug my phone in when it starts to ring in my hand.
With a video call. You’re kidding me. A video call?
I’m literally in bed, without makeup or anything, and I don’t know why he’s doing this.
I watch it ring and so nearly don’t pick up, but my curiosity gets the better of me.
I swipe to answer.
Fletch’s face fills the screen, his hair damp from what I assume is his post-game shower, the ends starting to curl as they dry. There are dark smudges under his eyes highlighting his exhaustion. And yet, he’s still wearing the biggest smile on his face.
My whole body heats at seeing him like this. Fingers itching to run through the wet strands.
“Um, hi?” I say tentatively, the words coming out as more of a question.
Looking at myself in the little camera preview in the corner you can definitely tell I’m in bed, even with the soft lighting provided by the bedside lamp.
I sink down further, hoping I can hide the fact from him, but I doubt it.
“You picked up!” he exclaims.
“I almost didn’t… is there a reason you’re video calling me?” I ask.
“I figured you missed my face.” He winks and I raise an eyebrow. “Okay, okay. That’s not true. I missed your face.”
“I—” I start, but I don’t really know where to go with that, so I kind of freeze up.
“Relax, firecracker. I meant it in a friendly way, not flirty. I needed some cheering up after that loss, and Coach ripped us to shreds.” He moves through what looks like his hotel room as he talks, something that’s confirmed for me when he falls backwards onto a bed.
“Oh, that’s okay, I guess. The loss was pretty brutal.”
“You’re telling me! We played like absolute garbage tonight. I think we got too cocky after the win yesterday.” He sighs.
“You guys weren’t that bad,” I try.
“That’s quite the honor coming from someone who up until three weeks ago knew nothing about the sport,” he says with a smirk. “I take it you watched the game again?”
I chew on the corner of my lip but give him a nod.
His entire face brightens in response. “I like knowing you’re watching the games. Even if you don’t know what’s going on. I think that fact alone makes it more special.”
I roll my eyes. “I figure I gotta show my support for the team I’m working with right now.”
“Mhmm, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night, firecracker.” He winks and I’m so glad it’s dimly lit on my end because I can feel the heat of a blush climbing up my cheeks and my core pulses in response.
Why does this keep happening around him?
“Speaking of which, are you about to go to sleep? Am I bothering you? We can hang up if I am. I’m sorry, I forget that you don’t operate on the same hours as me every day. ”
I would think he was saying that to be nice, but the uncertainty on his face tells me he really is concerned he’s keeping me awake. And I mean, yes, I was getting ready for bed, so I don’t know what makes me do it, but I tell him, “Nah, I was doomscrolling.”
His smile is small, but instantaneous. “Okay, good. So long as I’m not keeping you up.”
“You’re fine, Fletch.”
“Cool, cool. Ready for your next question then?”
I sigh, but smile. “Sure, hit me.”
“What’s your perfect date?” he asks, and I choke on air.
“Excuse me?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
He holds up his free hand. “Hey now, I mean this as a perfectly innocent ask. It’s to get to know your interests better. Not because I’m secretly planning our first date. Although this answer won’t hurt in that case.”
I roll my eyes and think about how I want to answer this question, when it comes to me. “Hmm, I’d have to say April 25th.”
His brows furrow. “What?”
I nod earnestly. “Yeah, don’t you agree? It’s just the perfect time of year.” I tack on a big cheery smile to really drive my answer home.
“What the actual fuck kind of answer is that?” he asks.