Chapter 18
SADIE
“Tell me again, what’s an RBI?” I ask Willow as she leads me through a maze of hallways in the depths of the stadium complex.
My head is brimming with baseball facts and statistics that, hopefully, I don’t get mixed up.
When I asked Maverick to teach me the basics so I didn’t look like a fool at the game today, he initially tried to tell me it didn’t matter.
But I disagreed. If the world thinks we’ve been dating for a while now, it stands to reason that I should know something about the sport.
So last night, we ordered pizza, and he walked me through the basics of the game.
But now that I’m here without him since he’s spending the game in the dugout with his team, I’m wishing I had started learning this stuff a long time ago. Even without him by my side, I know everyone will be watching me closely. My reactions, my enthusiasm, all of it on display.
“RBI stands for run batted in. It’s when a player makes it home from another player’s hit.”
“Okay, and —”
“Sadie, girl, you need to relax! No one will be quizzing you on baseball facts, I promise.”
Her gentle smile is probably meant to be reassuring, but all I can do is worry that she’s questioning my freak-out.
“Right. Of course. I know.” I force a smile that seems to do the trick as we resume walking to our seats.
When she first invited me to attend, I assumed she meant we’d sit in the stands like everyone else.
Then she explained she was taking the day off to watch the game with her boyfriend’s family.
Which, apparently, means sitting in a reserved area right beside the dugout.
My pulse speeds up when I see the packed stadium full of Tridents fans and the cameras everywhere, from their internal marketing team and the local media covering the game.
Then my heart races when my gaze lands on the men out on the field.
I find number 17 in an instant, the same number emblazoned across my back.
This is the first game where Maverick’s out on the field for warm-up, even though he won’t be playing.
There was no mistaking his outright joy when he came home last night and told me he’d be out there today.
For a brief second, I thought he might hug me, he was so excited.
Over the last while that I’ve been staying at his place, it’s been impossible not to notice how the small touches have increased.
The graze of his fingers against mine when I pass him something, shoulders bumping together in the kitchen when we’re both in there.
And it’s not just that. He’s started making me coffee every morning, somehow getting the cream and sugar ratio absolutely perfect every time.
When I’m working, he’ll bring me over a fresh glass of water without asking.
My shampoo was running low, but before I could get out to buy some more, a brand-new bottle appeared.
Those moments, when I can almost fool myself into thinking his actions could mean something more, are becoming harder to ignore.
I know it’s crazy, and impossible, and a terrible idea. But God, I wish it was real. That I had a man treat me the way he does, not because of an arrangement, or appearances, but because they truly cared about me. Wanted me.
But he didn’t hug me.
And it’s not real. My feelings might be, but they will never go anywhere.
We reach our seats, and Willow introduces me to Ronan’s mother and his daughter.
As their conversation flows around me, I let myself watch Maverick.
He looks good, too good, in that uniform.
The pants cupping his butt, the jersey looking like he was born to wear it.
He seems relaxed, too. The most relaxed I think I’ve ever seen him.
It’s obvious, to me at least, that this is where he belongs.
Out there, playing ball. Empathy floods me as I realize how difficult it must have been for him these last several weeks, not playing.
Whoever it is he’s throwing the ball back and forth with says something, and his head turns, his gaze meeting mine. I tentatively lift my hand in a small wave, then snatch it down immediately, feeling silly. Until he lifts his and gives me a rare smile.
“No freaking way, did Mav just smile at you?” Willow gasps, grabbing my arm. “Good Lord, I didn’t think he knew how to do that.”
She’s teasing. I know this. But a burst of protectiveness shoots through me anyway.
“Just because he’s not the most outgoing guy doesn’t mean he doesn’t smile.”
Willow’s eyebrows raise nearly to her hairline.
“Okay, down girl. I didn’t mean any offense.
” Her head tilts to the side. “I know there’s a good guy underneath the bad boy exterior.
The whole team does. It’s why he’s still here.
Because even when his reckless choices land him in trouble, we believe in him and want nothing more than to help him.
It’s why my uncle is so happy you’re in the picture. ”
“What does that mean?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I really want the answer.
Willow waves at Ronan on the field, a huge grin on her face before she turns to me to reply.
“I don’t know exactly. But I think it’s because he wanted Mav to have something, or someone, to ground him, and help him remember that good things exist in life.
I don’t know the details of his past, but I’m assuming it wasn’t great.
And when you don’t have a great past, you need something really great to keep you moving forward. You’re that something great for Mav.”
My heart is cracking in two at Willow’s words.
She’s right, I know she’s right, even though I also don’t know the details of who Maverick King is and where he came from.
But I can tell there are broken parts of him, damaged pieces from his childhood that he hides from everyone.
And I can tell, despite all that, he’s a man worthy of love and happiness if he could just believe that for himself.
But Willow’s wrong if she thinks I’m the person to help him understand. Because I don’t mean anything to him, not really. I’m not “something great” as she put it. I’m just a girl he bailed out of a crappy situation and ended up in an even more complicated one as a result.
I look across the diamond and find him again, this broken man whose name is on the back of my shirt. And as he turns to jog off the field with the rest of his teammates, his eyes find mine, and his lips tip up ever so slightly again.
There’s no more denying it for me. I want to be the woman to put Maverick King’s heart back together again.
I don’t see him the rest of the game, as he’s in the dugout with his teammates, and I’m in the stands with Willow and her family.
I’m unsure what I should do when the game ends.
Do I just go home, or am I meant to wait for him?
Willow takes the decision out of my hands after the Tridents make an easy win and she stands up, takes Ronan’s daughter’s hand, and gestures to me.
“Come on, let’s go find our boys.”
Ronan’s lovely mother, Pam, waves us off. “I’ll head home, see you later, girls.”
Then I’m following Willow and Peyton down the few steps to the gate that opens onto the field. It’s crowded with players, staff, media personnel, and grounds crew all bustling around. But I find Maverick quickly, leaning against the railing of the dugout, staring out at the field.
I’m not sure I’m allowed in there, so I make my way over to the other side of the railing until I’m close to him. He turns to face me, and I’m graced with another small smile.
“Hey, Specs. What did you think of your first game?”
Apparently, I’ve become quite skilled at figuring out what Maverick isn’t saying when he talks, because I easily detect the wistfulness in his tone. He’s wishing he had been out there playing today.
“It was good. Fun. I don’t know that I understood everything that happened, though.”
He reaches a hand out, and tentatively, I place mine in his. He laces our fingers together as I glance around, certain there must be a camera on us. But there isn’t. They’re all paying attention to the other players.
“We can do some more lessons at home.”
“Okay,” I whisper back, not letting him see how that word, home, got to me. How can one word, one single word, make my entire body warm while making me feel empty at the same time?
Willow calls my name, and I look to the side to see her gesturing for me to follow her.
“I think I have to go,” I say, looking back to Maverick.
He gives me a nod and lets go of my hand.
I turn to leave, but I haven’t taken more than two steps before he speaks again.
And this time, what he says doesn’t just make me feel warm.
This time, he makes the very air I breathe feel ten degrees hotter.
“You look good wearing my name, Specs.”