Why do I have to be an asshole all the time?
“Coach. I’m ready for some grounders and it seems like everyone is almost gone.” Big Al joined me by the pitcher’s mound and, like a snake I couldn’t control, I unleashed my self-pity on him.
“Maybe not tonight.” I dug my fingernails into my palm.God. I sucked.
“Oh.” His voice broke and his muffled steps carried farther away from the mound. I counted the ways I was going to hell but stopped. Fiona let out a cackle that no woman should have. I spun around and met Fiona’s fiery stare.She’ll kick me in the balls.
“Why the laughter?”
“Big Al has a great joke. It killed me.” She hit her knee and put her hand on Big Al’s shoulder. “Tell him. It’ll lighten him up.”
“Uh, okay. Have you read the book on how to be a great baseball player? It’s written by Ben Schwarmer.”
Oh. My. God. No.The burn of laugher crept up my throat. I tried to fight it. I did. But it burst out. The joke was so dumb. So bad. But Big Al grinned at me and Fiona gave me a small nod. “Good lord, that was awful.”
“But you laughed, Coach.”
“You have me there.” I met Fiona’s eyes and understood the meaning behind them. I rarely communicated with people from just a look—Cheryl being the other person. Her eyes readwork with Big Al or I’ll kill you.“Al, go grab your glove and head to shortstop.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t stand there. Hustle out. We’ll work on your crouch to throwing position.” He didn’t wait a second more before sprinting toward the dugout. Fiona let out a slow whistle and I gave her a pointed look. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Home. I have homework.”
“Nice try. You’re helping, too.” I picked up a bat and handed it to her. “You’re hitting the grounders. I’ll help him with the motions.”
“Feeling old today, gramps?” She pointed to my injured leg and my first reaction was to bite her head off. But she just grinned at me and all my fire left.
What was easier—having her joke about my injury or getting sympathy? I despised sympathy. It boiled my blood when people gave methatlook. So. Her jabs were better. I grinned like a fool at her. “I might need you to carry me home. I’ll let you touch my muscles.”
“You really are a man for the people.” She patted my chest, her fingers remaining a little longer than necessary. It sent a spark down me. “Al. Hustle, little man. I have homework to do.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
And we spent twenty minutes working with the kid. He made error after error, but his confidence grew. And confidence was half the battle. “Al, what are you going to work on tomorrow?”
“Not shuffling my feet. It’s a jump to pivot. Not two steps.”
“Good. I’ll make sure we look for it tomorrow. Nice work.” I clapped his back and caught Fiona staring at me. I smirked at her. “Yes?”
“You’re not a total asshole.”
“Why, thanks.” I laughed and went to pick up my duffel bag. I thought about asking Fiona for a drink, or coffee or something. But fate had other plans. MILF approached me wearing a sinfully tight dress.Good lord.“Hi. Good to see you again.”
“You as well,” she purred and darted her gaze to Fiona before meeting my eyes. She lowered her voice. “Do you giveprivatelessons?”
I chuckled and flicked my gaze to Fiona, but she was gone. No goodbye. Nothing.Hm.“Are you wanting lessons for Garth?”
She pursed her lips and giggled. “I was thinking for myself.”
Say yes. Say yes. Do it.“My line-up is pretty stacked. Maybe another time, though.”
I kicked myself the whole walk to my car.Why did I turn her offer down?What the fuck was wrong with me?
Fiona. Fiona is the problem.
Chapter Thirteen
