“Sorry, Skip.” The five of us respond in unison, and for the next two hours, we go back to our training.
I push all thoughts of strippers aside and focus on baseball.
We look fucking good.
All my teammates are putting in the work. I see back-to-back World Series in our future. I want to win at least one more trophy. My days behind the plate are getting shorter, and I want at least one more before I’m done. No matter how hard I train, injuries can happen. I’m in my mid-thirties, and still playing professionally at this age is a blessing. A blessing I look forward to every year.
I’m buzzing for the new season to start. It won’t be long.
Only a couple more weeks until we’re in Arizona for spring training, and this year, instead of staying with Cam at his condo, I’ll be sharing a house with Reed, Lance, and Blake.
It should be a good time.
As I finish my weight training session, I look around for my friend Pedro Serrano. Pedro was the rookie pitcher last season and, to my ire, he’s not around. Again.
The kid had a great run until he pulled something in his elbow. He’s been rehabbing it, but as a pitcher, an injury like that is hard to come back from. It’s a good thing he has age on his side. He’s only twenty-five, and the Evaders take care of their own.
I wipe the sweat off my face as I take a seat in front of my locker. I thank the trainer, who hands me a protein shake, and slug it back. Thank fuck it’s chocolate today. I fucking hate the vanilla flavor.
Reed walks over with a grin on his face. “Bachelor party is all booked, gents. I hope you’re ready to have some fun.”
“Naked chick fun.” I let out a beastly growl at Blake’s joke. He’s a good guy, but he’s always putting his foot in his mouth. To be expected, since he’s the youngest and the loudest out of our little group.
Our group?
When the hell did that happen?
Heath Erikson, our second baseman, and the only one of us that’s married, smacks Blake upside his head. “Dude, watch it. Or one day Romero’s going to kick your ass.”
“Or punch you in the face.” Reed mockingly punches his chin, referring to the time I punched Cam for dating my sister behind my back.
I flip him off, and the room erupts in laughter. Even Cam is laughing.
“Fuck you guys. That was one time. And in my defense, Cam deserved it.”
“True. And I’m still not sorry.” Cam blows me a kiss.
Reed and Blake return to chatting about their plans as Heath and Lance change.
Cam turns to me. “Are you still good to pick up Talia from work for family dinner tonight?”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, bro. I’ll meet the two of you there.” His phone rings, and a goofy, love-sick smile spreads across his face as he answers his phone and purrs, “Hey, itty bitty.”
Barf. I do not need to hear whatever gooey bullshit Cam’s about to spew at my sister.
I turn my back on him and grab my toiletries bag to shower. It’s the Romero family dinner night, and the only thing I’m looking forward to is Zia Rose’s spicy manicotti. No wedding talk.
My phone buzzes with a text from my best friend and agent, Damien Barnes.
We’ve been thick as thieves since we were on the same travel baseball team in middle school. We even went to the same college, and afterwards I invested in his sports management agency.
I know most people think he’s arrogant and materialistic, but he was there for me when we were teens. And while I know Damien is an acquired taste, I understand where he’s coming from. Like me, Damien was raised by a single mother and had to deal with havinga dead-beat dad like I did growing up. Sharing that experience bonded us.
Swiping open the notification, I read his text.
Damien:Have to cancelmeeting the withtheathletic wear company. Will reschedule soon. Check ya later.
