Again, face punching sounded great.
“TJ, how’s the leg?” Zade gave me a pitying look. He was carrying equipment from the dugout to the team bus—we were headed back early since the games had ended ahead of schedule. It was a four-hour trip back and already six p.m., and the thought of sitting in a cramped seat sounded like hell.
“It sucks,” I said, hoping he’d leave me alone. Some people liked company when they were in pain. Others, like myself, preferred the solace of my attitude. “I’m the reason we didn’t place in the tournament. I got on base three times? Fuck. That’s shit.”
“Nah, man, none of us’ve been finding gaps the past two days.” He shook his head at me and laughed. “It’s more important that you’re healed and healthy for the spring. I know you’re competitive and driven, but this’ll only put you back a week or so. Use that time to rest.”
“Chesterfieldwas here.” One of the scouts from a west coast team. He’d nodded to me the day before and he could have approached and started a conversation, but he hadn’t and my gut told me it was because I’d gotten hurt.And played like shit. Who strikes out twice in one game…against a freshmen pitcher?
I did. And for fuck’s sake, I didn’t know why.
“He’s from NorCaL Cactus,” I said, when Zade continued to look at me with an uneasy expression. “One of my top five teams to be drafted.”
Zade sucked in a breath and that was response enough. But, being the perfect example of a team captain, he found a silver lining. “Injuries happen in the game. You might be pouting a bit now, but you handled yourself well when you got hurt. That matters, so don’t get in your head and fuck it up. Okay?”
Shit.His words were like a slap to the face and shame consumed me.I’m acting like a petulant child.He watched me with an odd look and I mumbled, “Thanks, Z.”
“Anytime. Now, you’re not dying, so help carry stuff back to the bus.”
He tossed me a large duffel back filled with hitting nets we secured to the ground for warm-up swings, and I hung it over my shoulder.He’s right. I can be a better leader.The rest of the team scattered around the complex and Coach stood to the right of the concession stand, his hands on his hips as he spoke with Chesterfield. And they were both looking right at me.
My heart raced and I tried to act natural.Be cool. Real cool. Walk to the undercarriage, drop the nets in there.I stowed away the equipment with a ball of emotion in my throat. Would they come over here? Ask to talk to me?
Please, god.
They didn’t. Coach shook his hand and moved on to talk to the hosting school’s coach, not giving me a backward glance. It felt like a punch to the gut after a night of drinking. Bile threatened to come up at the strength of my disappointment.
I deserve it after playing like this.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my new phone, headphones and sweatshirt out of my bag and found a seat in the back of the bus. We hadn’t played well and the guys didn’t like to fuck around on the bus when they were in a shit mood, and I was glad. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to rap and do dumb dares. I put on some Black Keys, turned it up as loud as I could and got as comfortable as I could. My post-game routine was always the same—analyze every fucking detail to the point I understood how to improve the next time. This was no different and I started with game one that day, where I’d misread the line-drive, allowing the runner to advance a base.
It hadn’t cost us the game, but I didn’t misread plays. What was different?
My mind found nothing, and I went on to the next moment. Striking out. Sure, it’d happened in the game where an excellent batting average was three hundred, meaning getting a hit three out of ten times was incredible. But twice in a row, in summer ball, wasnotme. What had happened?
Coach gave me a fake sign and I signaled I understood.Something had caught my eye behind his left shoulder—blonde hair.Kenzie.I’d thought I saw her standing along the fence.Shehad beenthe reason I’d felt so distracted. She got into my head too much…the one thing that was non-negotiable.Baseball, my family, draft.
She didn’t have a place there and I wasn’t sure how she’d snuck in.Fuck.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kenzie
Something loud startled me. I clutched my chest and bolted up from my bed.It came from downstairs. Oh my god. Someone’s breaking in.Adrenaline blasted through my veins, almost like ice going through them, and I tiptoed from my bed to the corner where Jeff kept a bat. I grabbed my glasses from the table and didn’t make a sound when I twisted the doorknob and snuck out onto the top of the stairwell.
My watch read two-thirty a.m.Who the fuck is here?The guys weren’t due back until that night and no one else had a key.Burglars. Kidnappers.
Okay, most likely not. If they were coming for money, the house wasn’t nice. The most valuable things were our computers and I was not about to lose my life over a laptop.Deep breath.Gripping the bat like my life depended on it, I stepped down the stairs with the grace of a ninja. Not one sound gave away my descent, and I cocked my arms back to swing at the first sign of movement. Voices. There were people talking in the kitchen. I froze, hoping to place them, and almost laughed when I heard Aaron’s.
“No fucking food. She didn’t have the decency to buysomething?”
“We stopped at the diner. Why do you need more?”Zade.
That meant…Tanner was back.
He must’ve texted me and I missed it.Speak of the devil. He rounded the corner to head upstairs, carrying bags over his shoulders, his face stern, and walking with a limp, if I wasn’t mistaken. Seeing him, and how he made my body react all crazy, I was breathless. “Hi.”
“Hey, mind getting out of the stairwell so I can head on up?”
