His lips ghosting over my shoulder.
Our fingers laced together.
Hearts falling into a steady rhythm as we drift off to sleep.
THIRTY-ONE
JED
I leanagainst the wall outside the locker room, drawstring bag over my shoulder, while I wait for Nebs. We both ended up staying late after today’s afternoon game. Hughes, our reliever today, and Nebiolo have been struggling with their rhythm. Hughes only just got called up to Triple-A, so they haven’t had much time to learn each other yet.
I’m still here because I got pulled in for the post-game interview. Since I’ve been on such a hot-streak it’s been happening a lot lately. Always fielding the same questions.
“Do you feel like you’re making a strong case for a call-up this year?”I sure fucking hope so.
“Take us through that at-bat when you went deep in the sixth? What did you see in that pitch—looked like you read it perfectly?”That one always kills me. Every reporter wants the same story, like I can explain what my brain did in a fraction of a second. Unless a pitcher gives a tell or a pattern, it’s all gut instinct. That at-bat wasn’t any different from any other.
And, of course, the inevitable question about my arm.“Seems like the arm’s back to full strength; any lingering soreness or tightness?”
I offered to give Nebiolo a ride so Winters and Shane didn’t have to stick around, and I was planning on heading over there anyway. It’s where I’ve been spending most of my time. The last few days have been dizzying. We had a doubleheader two days ago to make up for a rain delay, then a night game that went into extra innings yesterday. I’ve barely had a chance to breathe. But when I have…I’ve been making sure each breath is as full of Shane Michaels as possible.
Nebs strolls out of the locker room and gives me a nod. “Sorry I kept you waiting.”
I push off the wall, and we head for the parking lot. “No problem. I don’t mind.”
“Think the coaches wanted to take advantage of having such an early game and keep me here just as late as usual,” he jokes.
First pitch was thrown just after noon today. A rare early game for us. Which means, even staying as late as we did today, it’s not even four yet. So. Much. Time. With Shane.
“Are you and Hughes feeling better?”
“Getting there. I’m reading him better. Still don’t have all his signs figured out. It’s harder with him being a closer. We just don’t get a ton of time together.”
I slide into the front seat of my car, and Nebiolo hops into the passenger side. “It’ll come soon. That adjustment period can be shaky. Just look at me and Michaels.”
I check my phone quickly before we leave, and there’s a new message from Shane.
Sunshine
Hey Storm Cloud. Can you let me know when you’re on your way? I’ve got some things in the works for Nebs and need to make sure everything’s set before he’s home.
Hmm. What is Shane Michaels up to? I’ve heard quite a few stories now, and I know to be suspicious. At least in this instance it’s Nebiolo who needs to be worried and not me.
Me
We’re leaving the complex now. Should I be nervous?
Sunshine
Nope. But keep it on the DL with Nebs.
Damn. Now I’m curious. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
I glance at Nebs before I go to back out of my spot and freeze. He’s full-on Cheshire cat grinning at me. “The fuck is that for?”
“I know exactly how you and Michaels gotadjustedto each other.” He bounces his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes as I drive out of the parking lot and hit the road. “I swear, the maturity level between the three of you is probably equivalent to a sixteen-year-old. And that’s me being generous.”
