“No. I’m eighteen. I swear.”
Her face turns purple. “I’m going to kill you.”
Frankie lunges at Dave, but I stop her. The last thing we need is Frankie getting arrested for punching a teenager in the face. Although, the fact that Dave is eighteen and a shithead makes it only slightly better.
“Get the hell out of here,” I say. He scrambles to pick up the rest of his clothes and runs out. The door slams behind him and it’s the only sound in the room as Frankie sits on the bed with her head in her hands.
“Oh, God. I can’t believe it.”
“It’s okay. I don’t think it’s illegal.”
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
“You didn’t?” The weight on my chest lifts immediately.
She shakes her head. “It felt awkward when we got inside, and I regretted taking him back to our room. I was just about to tell him I changed my mind when you knocked on the door.”
She runs her hands through her hair. “God, I feel so gross. To think I almost had sex with him.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “But you didn’t. And he lied to you.”
“Why are men such assholes?”
“I don’t know, Frankie,” I sigh. “I don’t know. And worst of all, I don’t know why we still want to be with them.”
“It’s because of men like Austin and Caleb that make me believe it’s possible to find a good one out there.”
“Too bad Caleb doesn’t have a brother,” I say with a grin.
With her head still in her hands, Frankie mumbles, “But Austin does and he’s a major league ballplayer.”
“Yeah, but he’s an asshole, too.”
4
Casey
I’ve been in L.A. for a couple of weeks now and I’m finally back at the clubhouse. Sitting in the Jets’ locker room a few hours before our first home game, my agent, Brett Campbell, is standing across from me. “Why are you even here, Brett?” I ask, staring at the man as he paces around the benches. “I can have this conversation with Gainsboro on my own.”
His beige suit is loose on him but at least he’s wearing one. I showed up in my jeans and T-shirt. “I’m just making sure everything goes as planned.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me? I said I would pitch, even though the pain isn’t completely gone, but I’ll do it.”
I don’t hide the contempt from my voice. I don’t think I’m ready to be on the mound yet, but Brett says if I don’t get back on the roster soon, it will hurt my prospects as a free agent.
“It’s not that. I just want Gainsboro to know that we’re united in this.”
He’s wringing his hands, and I narrow my eyes. I don’t believe him. But he’s one of the best in the business and he made me one of the wealthiest players in the major leagues. He promised if everything went smoothly this season, he would get me thebiggest contract in MLB history. I believe his exact words were, “I’m going to make you a legend.”
Just as Brett makes his third circle around the room, Gainsboro walks in.
“Tucker,” he says after nodding at Brett. “How’s the arm?”
“Good,” I say. “The physiotherapy helped, as did the rest.”
“Are you ready to get back in there? We need you for tonight’s game.”
‘Yes’is on the tip of my tongue but I hesitate. I don’t know why. Just then, my phone rings. I ignore it as it’s probably one of my friends wondering what the plans are for tonight.
