But on nights like tonight, after spending a week playing nice with the press and spending time with all the fans, I was done. I just wanted to share a beer with my buddies, and their stares seemed invasive, like people wanted to cut out a piece of me.
A hand jutted out from the crowd, and I smiled, finding my teammates waiting at the bar. It had been a long week, and we were ready to head back home. At least the stress of the trade window was over. Baseball teams constantly fluctuated, so the stress always mounted when it was open. Luckily, while most of the Hawks survived the window, only a few of the guys running out of chances.
Before I left the stadium, I’d called the ones who’d been sent back down to the minors to make sure they were okay. Cam offered to stay behind with me, but I refused. As team captain, this was my burden to bear. Besides—he’d just gotten engaged and deserved to celebrate with his girl.
While I loved being team captain, some days, the weight of that responsibility feltlike a thousand pounds on my shoulders. It brought back painful memories, like this time last year, when our second baseman, Jace, got sent back to the minors. After mentoring him for months, it killed me to watch Jace clear out his locker. He’d been trying to outrun his demons since the day he’d walked onto the field, and they’d finally caught up with him.
At least the change seemed to benefit him. He was thriving up in Maine, and there was talks about bringing him back to the pros. But as much as I wanted that for him, the last time we spoke, he still had some issues handling the pressure. I owed him a trip up to Portland, but right now, I had too much to do with the team, especially with playoffs coming up.
Shit, I needed a beer.
As I leaned against the dark wooden bar, Cam clapped my shoulder. “Hey man, how’re you feeling?”
“Like shit.” I raised my hand to the bartender, asking for the same beer as the rest of the guys. “Feels like I let the guys down.”
Cam shook his head. “You did everything you could, cap. They know it, and so do the rest of us. Hopefully, they’ll be back next season.”
I hoped so too, but I pushed the thought out of my mind, instead focusing on the group surrounding me. The low pulse of a country song wailed through the speakers, and the air smelled of stale beer and popcorn. It was a far cry from my usual haunts, but when the rest of the guys picked the place, I refused to complain. Besides, Mari was right. I needed a break from the club scene. I loved the atmosphere—getting caught up in the rush of dancing and lust in the air—but the last week had been exhausting, and my body needed rest, not anotherdistraction.
My phone chirped in my pocket, and I smiled, seeing my five nieces’ faces smiling back at me. A message sat in the middle of the screen in all capital letters.
MARI
FAMILY DINNER WHEN WE GET BACK. NO EXCUSES.
I chuckled as I replied with a thumbs-up. My little sister was relentless. Hopefully, she wouldn’t bring another surprise guest like she had for the last few dinners, all available women, whom she sat right next to me.
For a moment, the idea of settling down crashed through my mind. What would that even look like? The game would only last so long—I had only a few more seasons left before my body broke down. This season, it was already getting harder to shake off the muscle fatigue and pain. My right knee throbbed after every game, and my joints stiffened when I climbed out of bed each morning. Shit, I was already maxing out on sessions with the team’s physical therapist. Maybe Mari was right, and Ishouldthink about retirement.
Fuck that.No way I’d leave my team anytime soon. We had too many games to play, and I had at least one more championship in me.
“Ah, shit,” Cam chuckled, turning around with a wide grin. It didn’t take a genius to see where his attention had drifted. His brand new fiancée, Hadley, had made an impromptu dance floor in the middle of the crowded bar, screaming the words of a classic song at the top of her lungs. He turned over his shoulder, glaring at the bartender. “Dude, I thought I warned you about the tequila.”
He just shrugged. “She tips better than you.”
Cam shook his head but didn’t hide his smile. He was so gone for his girl, it wasn’t even funny. “Your funeral. Next,she’s going to be up on the bar.”
I smirked as I sipped my beer. “You going to stop that?”
“Nope,” Cam said. “She’s having fun. I’ll intervene if any fucker tries to touch her, but Hadley can handle herself.”
Heart beams practically shot out of his eyeballs; he couldn’t look away as Hadley winked over her shoulder. I might have had my reservations about mixing relationships with baseball, but they were living proof it could work.
“Still can’t believe she said yes,” he muttered, smirking as he took another pull from his beer.
I clinked the top of my bottle with his. “Not surprised at all, Cam. That girl loves the hell out of you. Good thing she hasn’t realized she can do so much better than your cranky ass.”
Cam shook his head. “Don’t I know it.”
I laughed at his words, letting my eyes scan over the rest of the crowd. Okay, a distraction for the night might not be the worst thing. I might be determined to stay single for the foreseeable future, but that didn't mean I had to spend all my time alone. After all, what was the point of keeping my body in peak condition if I couldn’t use it occasionally?
Although lately, my one-night conquests had left me wanting. It probably sounded cocky, but I’d never had a problem finding someone for the evening. The issue was finding someone I wanted to stick around when the sun rose.
God, I sounded just as pathetic as Cam. I loved my life, loved all the perks of my career choice. The women, the money, the lifestyle—all of it was a bonus. I already got to spend my days playingthe game I loved, which was more than most guys got to say. And now, being at the top of the pack?
It was a damn good feeling.
A couple of women snuck past our group, staring at us like predators assessing their prey. The joke was on them; I played the game as well as the rest, but there was nothing meek about me. After a decade in the league, I could sniff out a jersey chaser from a mile away, the ones who saw the dollars attached to our contracts and got gold bars in their eyes. Another reason to keep that single box checked. If I couldn’t tell a person’s intentions, I kept them as far away as possible.
