Chapter 32
MAVERICK
There’s a reason I prefer traveling overnight when everyone is sleeping.
And when Monty sinks down in the seat next to me on the bus, it reinforces why.
I want to keep my AirPods in and ignore him, but he’s like a fucking puppy dog sometimes, all smiles and laughs, and no sense of when to let shit go.
“So,” he says expectantly. I smother my sigh of frustration and press pause on my music.
“Yeah?”
“You and Sadie. That’s still a thing?”
He’s grinning and swear to fucking God, if I didn’t know he means no harm, I’d slap the smile off his face.
“Yeah.”
His shoulder shoves into mine. “C’mon, Mav, we’re past the whole single-word-answer shit, aren’t we? We’re buddies now!”
I guess my face says it all because Monty winces. “Okay, maybe not buddies, but…”
Ah, shit, I can’t. I shove him right back, harder. “Shut up and stop pouting, buddy. What do you want to know? I’m not talking about my sex life, just so we’re fucking clear.”
Swear to God, his face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. Not that I’ve experienced that myself, but I’ve seen it on TV enough times.
“Really? Okay. Well, she’s awesome, and funny, and nice. And it seems she’s making you more funny and more nice. So, like, that’s cool. Are you guys happy? Is it serious?”
“Slow your goddamn roll there, Monty. He doesn’t have to tell you shit.
” Ronan shifts in his seat across the aisle and shakes his head with amusement at our catcher.
Guess he thinks the same as me about Monty’s resemblance to a golden retriever.
Can’t help but love ’em, even when they drive you nuts.
Leaning forward, he meets my gaze. “Honestly, it’s none of our business how things are with you and Sadie.
But I will agree with one thing. Even though we haven’t known each other that long, I can see you’re different since you’ve been back on the field.
In a good way. And if it’s because of Sadie, then that’s awesome. ”
Now I’ve got both of them looking at me, waiting for some sort of answer. But what the fuck am I meant to say that won’t reveal too much of my past or be too fucking sappy?
“Yeah. She’s a great woman and we’re happy. I’m also glad to be back on the field.” I shrug. “Are the two related? Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just gonna keep playing ball and making her happy.”
“Aww, man, I love that.” Monty lifts his hand up for a high five, and I just stare at him. “C’mon. That was good! We’re bonding.”
“I think that’s enough bonding for today,” I reply dryly, turning to face forward again. He gets the message and doesn’t bug me again, leaving me alone to play my music.
And as soon as I close my eyes, she’s there. Red hair, glasses, and a smile that’s just for me. She makes me feel hopeful, for once in my life. Hopeful for a future that involves more than just baseball.
The problem is, my life has taught me not to hope for anything. Because as soon as I do, it gets ripped away from me.
But just this once, I want to believe it’ll be different. That Sadie will make everything okay, the way she always has.
The next day’s game goes well, and now we’ve only got one more in this series before we can head home. Thank fuck. I want my own bed, and I want Sadie in it.
For years, I didn’t care about traveling. I didn’t have a home I was attached to or someone waiting for me. Aside from Colin, Ralph and Cat are the only two living creatures who even know when I go out of town. Even Eli doesn’t know my schedule.
But now there’s someone else. Sadie’s there to get my text messages or phone calls, and she’s waiting for me to come home.
The locker room postgame is loud. We won, bringing us that much closer to making the playoffs.
I’m not sure if I deserve to be here, what with missing ten weeks of the season, but the excitement is still contagious.
And the guys don’t seem to share my reservations about my involvement.
When I caught a pop fly that came straight to me at third, closing the seventh inning without our opponents getting any runs in, my teammates went wild.
I slowly rotate my shoulder, remembering the pull when I jumped to make the catch.
Lark has already instructed me to find her before I leave for the hotel so she can check things over.
I want to ignore her, not risk her saying I need to ease off or not play as many innings.
But all it takes is picturing Sadie’s worried face if she found out somehow, and I know I’ll go and find the trainer.
“Championship, here we fucking come! I can taste the win, baby,” Kai shouts, and is immediately met with protests.
“Shut up, Yami!”
“Fuck, now we’re jinxed.”
“Goddamn pitcher’s getting ahead of shit.”
I keep my head down, saying nothing, but a smirk crosses my face. I’m not that superstitious, yet even I know you shouldn’t say anything about winning a game that’s still several weeks away. Especially when our spot in the playoffs isn’t totally secure yet.
“Holy fuck!” A shaking, angry voice roars over the room.
It takes a second for me to place it, then my eyes land on Ricky Orson.
The center fielder’s face is bright red as he glares at his phone.
Even from across the room, I can tell his knuckles are white from gripping the device and his shoulders are rising and falling rapidly.
Then he yells again, another loud fuck, and throws his phone to the ground before storming out of the locker room.
“What the hell was that all about?” Sin asks after a few seconds of stunned silence. No one moves at first, then Darling goes over and picks up the cracked phone, tapping on it carefully to wake the screen.
“Oh, shit.” He sounds shocked, and coming from the laid-back southern boy, that’s telling. Whatever’s on that phone, it’s not good.
A bunch of other guys crowd around him, staring at the phone. I hang back. I might be starting to get closer with some of the guys on the team, but I don’t belong over there. I barely know Orson. And I don’t do emotional bonding shit, no matter what Monty said on the bus last night.
“No fucking way.” Kai’s eyes are wide. “They were solid, man. She came to the last home game and they looked so fucking happy together.”
Slowly, everyone disperses from huddling around Darling.
He sets Orson’s phone down in his locker and goes back to his own to continue dressing.
The somber mood is weird, considering how everyone was hyped not that long ago.
And while I have suspicions about what was on Orson’s phone, not knowing what set him off has me on edge.
When Sin drops down beside me, letting his head fall back against the divider between his locker and mine, his eyes are troubled.
“What happened?” I ask in a low voice.
“His wife wants a divorce. She sent him a fucking text message, telling him she’d be gone when he gets home and that the papers would be on the kitchen counter.”
Shit. No wonder the guy walked out of here looking like his world was ending. Now Kai’s comment makes sense.
“They were married eight years. She’s been there for him his entire career. He was gonna retire soon because he wanted to spend more time with her. And now it’s over. Who the hell does that? Who ends a marriage over a text? And right at the end of the season too.”
The fact that Ronan Sinclair has only been with the team for one season and already knows all these details about a teammate I’ve played with for a hell of a lot longer isn’t lost on me.
It drives home just how distant I’ve been from everyone.
So hell-bent on not letting anyone in, I’m on the outside, unaware of anything important in their lives, like marriages and retirement plans.
And these are guys I spend more than half the fucking year with, day in and day out.
But what’s happening to Orson is also a reminder of why I don’t let anyone get close to me.
Because as soon as they’re close, they can hurt you. And you never know when it’s going to happen. Everything can be going great for years and then your parent can die, your partner can leave you, or your team can drop you.
And you’re left alone.
I’m so tired of being alone.