Anywhere else, I hated that kind of noise. Here, it never failed to fill me with renewed energy, like it was my own personal charging station.
Only tonight, it did none of those things. I adjusted the brim of my Cubs cap and stepped through the tunnel, my jaw so tight that my teeth were aching as I replayed my conversation with Alex on a loop in my head.
Everything he’d said after breakfast had slotted into my mind with brutal clarity, and sadly, it made perfect fucking sense. I just needed to hear it from Abram himself.
I need to make sure there hasn’t been some kind of misunderstanding.
Generally, naivety wasn’t a character flaw I possessed, but deep down, I was still stupidly hopeful that there was another way. That speaking with Abram personally would clear all this up.
I pushed the thought aside and followed the aisle numbers down the concourse, balancing a beer in one hand and a sacred Wrigley hot dog in the other. I’d been thinking about this thing since breakfast.
Mustard, relish, onions, peppers. Also known as perfection.
After I’d grumbled about inviting two Yankees fans to my private box, Alex had swindled some bench seats for us in a more neutral section. As a result, I was, in addition to everything else, venturing to a part of the stadium I hadn’t set foot in for many, many years.
“Your precious reputation will remain intact,” he’d said with an indulgent smile, like doing me thisfavorwould somehow erase everything else.
I was still deciding whether to strangle him when I reached the row in question and stopped short. Kate and Abram were already waiting for me, but she turned first, her sunglasses perched on her head and hair blazing copper under the stadium lights.
“Look who finally showed up.”
Abram grinned warmly. “Nathaniel.”
Kate’s gaze dropped immediately to the hot dog in my hands. “Is that for me?”
“No.”
She reached out and took it anyway. “Thanks. I’m starving.”
Before it’d even fully left my grip, I snatched it back and took a massive bite, leaving her only about a third and it was mostly bun. Abram leaned forward, clearly tuned into the field where the players were warming up instead of paying attention to our silent standoff.
I handed her what remained of the hot dog and her jaw dropped. “You absolute menace.”
I chewed slowly, savoring the flavors I’d been looking forward to all damn day, and then shrugged once I’d swallowed. “You’re welcome.”
She glared at the sauce-smeared bread in her hand. “This should be considered a hate crime against fans of the opposing team.”
“Suffering builds character.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then I suppose after dealing with you, my character will be amazing.”
“Scoot over,” I said, nudging her knee with my own as I lowered into the seat beside her.
She huffed, then shoved my shoulder once we were both sitting. “I’m getting my own food. Try not to terrorize anyone else while I’m gone.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
She muttered something under her breath and squeezed past me, her hip brushing my thigh as she stepped into the aisle. I ignored the heat that followed the contact and took a long swallow of beer instead.
The second she disappeared into the crowd, Abram spoke, his eyes still on the diamond even though he was clearly talking to me. “You love this game.”
I frowned but nodded. “I do.”
“It shows.” He finally glanced at me, gaze drifting across my Cubs gear before a small, seemingly nostalgic smile appeared on his lips. “You’re lucky to have found something other than work to be passionate about.”
“Yeah. For sure.” I felt the corners of my lips curve. Not much, considering what this man wanted from me, but it was enough that I saw some of the tension easing from his features. “My mom and dad used to bring us as kids. Before Charlotte was even born. It wasn’t that often, but it stuck with me.”
“Your dad is a smart man to have taken the time to make those memories with you.” He let out a short, dry laugh. “Smarter than me, anyway. My business was my baby and I got so caught up in it that I never paused for long enough to consider building anything more permanent.”
