It’s still surreal I’m one of those players, and people—fans—lose their minds when they seeme.
It’s a feeling I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to.
Shouts of my name threaten to distract me with every step as Dylan and I try to slip through the crowd. I have to force myselfto focus on the conversation, listening to my friend as he fills me in on the last couple of weeks of his life.
Dylan is a solo adventurist. He thrives on traveling and just got back from a spur of the moment, week-long trip to Tahiti. The waves were calling to him he said when he called me from the airport, about to board his flight.
“Do you wanna grab some grub?” he asks, bumping into my shoulder once he finishes his long-winded update of his trip.
“Yeah, sounds good. Any place in mind?” My eyes connect unintentionally with a pretty blonde’s, and I tip my head in acknowledgement as we pass by.
“No, I’m down for anything.”
I’m doing my best to get out undetected, but I can still hear the not-so-subtle gasps from people as I walk by. Pulling my baseball cap lower on my head, I keep my gaze cast downward, tightening the hold on my duffle. Our pace quickens, and after a few more minutes, our feet finally hit the sidewalk.
I make a split decision and veer us left, heading toward a nearby sports bar. It’s not the most discreet place to dine, but they usually have a few tables in the back saved for if any of the Bears players want to have a bite to eat after a game.
The noise amplified from the busy city street shifts into loud chatter and clanging dishes when we enter the restaurant. Dylan checks in with the hostess, and within seconds we’re ushered to a private back patio.
A couple of my other teammates are already seated at tables with their loved ones. I nod to them as we take our seats, but have no interest in going over to make small talk. The hostess places our menus in front of us and lets us know our server will be with us shortly.
“So, that was quite a game.” Dylan looks over the menu, addressing me without looking up from it. “It was nice to see you play. Sorry I’ve missed a couple.”
“I don’t expect you to be at every one.” I know what I want, so I put my menu back on the table. “But yeah, thanks for coming. Still jet-lagged?”
“You have no fuckin’ idea. I’m exhausted.” With perfect timing, he stifles a yawn. “Where’s the next game at? Maybe I can come to that one, too.”
“We have two more games here next week, then we fly down to Rosemoor in two weeks.”
“Oh I bet you’re excited for that game. You guys justlovethe Rebels.” The sarcasm is thick in his voice as he teases about our rivalry with the team down in Southern California.
“Oh yeah.” I laugh. “They’re our best friends for sure.”
“How’s life besides baseball?” Dylan prompts, scanning the restaurant. Finally, he places his menu on the table. “What did I miss while I was gone?”
“Same shit, different day. Just been spending time with Cody whenever I can, trying to help out with Bodhi.”
“How’s Eva doing?”
“Not good.” I shake my head as my gaze falls to my lap. My sister-in-law’s been battling Hodgkin lymphoma and is going through intense chemotherapy. A knot forms in my throat as I think about her, my brother, and my nephew.
Dylan’s mouth downturns. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” My words hang heavy between us, but I don’t let them linger. “How’s everything else with you? Still house hunting?”
“Eh. A little here and there but nothing serious. My place is fine, I’m just getting up there in age and feel like it’s time to own something—sink some roots in.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Giving up traveling?”
“Definitely not.” Dylan grins. “But I might hang around for a while this time. Keep an eye on things.”
Alarm bells ring in my head. “What do you mean ‘keep an eye on things’?”
“I don’t know.” Dylan shakes his head, but any further explanation dies on his tongue as the waitress approaches. His gaze rakes over her when she greets us. The solemnness in his tone disappears instantly and is replaced by the charm Dylan’s known for, laying the flirting on thick as she takes our order.
When she leaves, I cock my head, not willing to let his cryptic words go. Something tight and unnerving has settled in my stomach, my instincts telling me to press him further—I know he means to watch over Indy, and I want to knowwhy. “What do you need to keep an eye on?”
Dylan scrubs his hand down his face, his charm slipping enough for me to see a different emotion that doesn’t sit well either. Worry. “Indy told me about her new boyfriend.”
