Being the pitcher means you’re in control of the game, as much as one can control the game of baseball. I get to pick if I throw a curveball, a slider, or a cutter based on the state of the game and the batter in the box. My catcher of course influences this decision, but we make the decision together.
The pressure thrills me more than anything, a rush of adrenaline flowing through my body every time I’m on the mound.
It centers me, allows me to focus and drown out everything but baseball.
That is, until I met Teagan.
My catcher gives me the signal for a slider, and I nod as I place my hand on the ball in my glove. Winding up, I release the pitch, and the batter swings and misses.
The crowd’s roar is deafening, making it nearly impossible to hear my own thoughts. Which right now is good, considering I should be focused on the next pitch I’m going to throw, but instead I’m wondering if she’s okay.
I wonder how she’s feeling. If the baby is moving at all, or maybe it’s too early for that. Hell if I know. Maybe I should get around to reading aParenting for Dummiesbook soon.
I roll my shoulder, the burn spreading from the top of it to my back muscles, intensifying the ache. With a quick glance, I see the runner on first off of the bag, waiting to run as soon as the ball is hit. I could attempt to throw him out at first, but it’s not worth it.
We’re up three to zero, and all I need is this last strikeout, then I can get home to see how Teagan’s doing.
It’s with that motivation that I lift my leg as I wind up and release my killer curve ball that not many get hits off of.
Boston’s hitter swings and misses, making the crowd go wild as it’s the end of a game with a win for the Panthers.
A rush of happiness washes over me, the high of pitching and winning a game never getting old.
The outfielders and infielders run over to me, slapping me on the back as they congratulate me on a great game. I give it back to them, telling everyone what a great game they had because it’s true. Our defense was impressive today, allowing us to win the series over Boston, who’s only a few points behind us in their season.
I flash my PR smile for the camera during my post-game interview, then hightail it to the locker room. Now that the game is done, there’s only one thing I want to do.
To get home to Teagan. Just to make sure that she’s okay, given everything that’s gone on in a short period of time.
That’s it.
Chapter 25
Teagan
“What the hell, are you okay?” Kaya’s mouth drops open in surprise.
“Teagan, I’m so sorry,” Clara says, her face full of pity.
It’s taken me a few days to tell them, but I finally texted in our group chat to see if they could video chat. Luckily, they were both free, and I just finished telling them about the fire.
“I’m okay, I think. Obviously, it fucking sucks, but I can’t change it,” I say as I blow out a breath.
“Wait, where are you staying then?” Kaya asks.
“I, uh… I’m staying with Quentin for the time being. We decided it’ll be easier for him to help me this way once the baby’s here, and I can take my time in finding a new place that’s perfect for Blueberry and me. I’m telling Ian I’m staying at your condo Clara, if that’s okay.”
Part of me still can’t believe I agreed to this. But I know this is going to be the best solution for the baby. It’s important that I don’t stress myself out more than I already am, and moving into a new place on my own would do just that.
“Of course. Honestly, that makes sense. I would probably do the same thing instead of rushing into something temporary and you can take your time to find a permanent place for you two,” Clara remarks as she puts her long locks into a ponytail.
“Are you not worried about anything happening between you two?” Kaya interjects and takes a sip from her coffee mug.
“We’re just two people having a baby, remember?” I remind them, but I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more. Myself or them.
With everything that’s gone on, I’m not even sure anymore.
Hell, the guy even bought me a bunch of clothes so I didn’t need to worry about that right away. It may seem like a small gesture, but to me, it meant a lot because it was one less thing I needed to tackle after losing everything.
