We are on fire tonight. The score is now 16-1 at the bottom of the eighth inning. It started in the third inning when Reed pulled off an amazing diving catch. The play lit a fire under our asses,and we’ve been unstoppable since. Both Cam and Lance have hit dingers, and almost every guy on the team has gotten a hit.
It’s early in the season, but if we keep this up, we’ll have another World Series in the bag.
As I cross home plate, I’m greeted by Taylor and McKay for high fives. Blake stands at the end, and I’m already laughing as he jerks off his bag of sunflower seeds. He pretends the bag explodes and sends seeds flying all over me.
It’s simultaneously disgusting and fucking hilarious.
I point to the crowd in thanks, and they go wild, screaming and chanting my last name. It’s the sweetest fucking sound. Dedication and hard work have brought me to this moment in time, and I would do it all again.
Every time I step onto the field, my dreams come true.
As I enter the dugout, the rest of the team claps me on the back and ass, congratulating me on the home run.
“Good job, Romero. Keep it up.” Coach Anson is beaming behind his bushy mustache.
“With pleasure, Skip.” I take a seat beside Heath, and massage my hands and forearms. Adrenaline courses through me and makes my hands shake.
“Felt that, didn’t you?” Heath asks.
“Fucking right I did. Saw that fastball coming a mile away.” Once I give my hands a good rub, I reach for my gear and start buckling on my leg pads.
“Good eye, man. It was perfection.”
“Thanks, H. Your double in the fifth was fucking fire.” I chat some more with Heath while I get ready for the final inning, which passes by in three quick outs.
Back in the locker room, the guys are floating as we get cleaned up.
“After that game, I need to burn off some energy.” McKay strips out of his uniform and wraps a towel around his waist. “Dinner at STK and a booth at Catch 22?”
“That’s code for ‘Reed wants to get laid’.” Blake’s eyes gleam mischievously.
“Who’s coming with me?” Reed turns to our first baseman. “Taylor?”
Lance looks across the room at the Evaders’ marketing intern, Gwen.
The first day I met Gwen, she strong-armed me into letting her run my socials. She had just returned from getting a master’s in marketing to work as Cam’s assistant and as the team’s intern, looking to prove herself.
She’s beautiful and assertive. And daughter of the Evaders’ owner, Ted Montgomery.
Gwen is amazing at what she does and should be running the whole Evaders’ marketing department.
Since I kicked Damien to the curb, she’s been my lifesaver. She’s kept me afloat, making sure my visibility stays up and my sponsorships are happy.
I smirk to myself, thinking about what’s in store for Damien. That jackass underestimated me. I wonder if he’s hired a lawyer yet and if said lawyer has found the fine print in our business contracts.
Gwen laughs at something the junior physical trainer, Dougie, says, and I watch the skin between Lance’s brows pinch in frustration.
Lance jumps out of his chair and grabs his gym bag. “Yeah. Fuck it. I’m in.”
Cam puts a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Dude, Lance, are you sure?”
We’ve all suspected that something happened between Lance and Gwen, but none of us has said a thing about it. Everyone knows it’s an unwritten rule that the owner’s daughter is off limits.
Lance glances back at Gwen and then shakes his head like he’s trying to clear whatever he was thinking from his mind. “I’m sure. Let’s fucking do this.”
“Fuck yes.” Reed looks at me. “Romero?”
“What about me?” I rip off my jersey and slip off my chain, placing them both in my locker.
