“I noticed Mick getting her wrist taped for no reason.” Abby grinned. “And ice baths after every game.”
“It’s for my knees!” Mick shouted.
Courtney and Lauren returned with a second round of shots, and Kate grimaced.
“Anyway, that’s when I knew something was up,” Abby said. “So, I told her to ask Haley out or I would.”
“You would?” Kate asked.
Abby shrugged. “I had to set a fire under Mick somehow. And itworked.” She tossed back her drink, and Kate regretfully did the same.
“Well, we’ll see.” Mick eyed the door as people squeezed inside. “That’s where you come in and put this thing in Cruz control. Distract the friend, get me some alone time.”
Abby chuckled. “Only if she’s cute.”
“She?” Kate muttered.
“Trust me, she’s cute,” Mick said.
Kate sank. She knew it shouldn’t matter if Abby flirted with someone else, if she was interested in someone else, or if someone else was interested in her. But it strangled her insides, so every butterfly that had previously flapped died.
An hour of drinks passed before Haley’s arrival, and by her second cocktail, Kate wavered. The only positive of her tipsiness was Abby’s watchful gaze, always ready to steady her, to brush her back, to whisper in her ear. The claustrophobia of the bar provided ample excuses to stand closer, to bump into each other, to rest with their bodies touching a second longer, shielded by the crowd and the team’s growing drunkenness.
“You know, I might miss you, Cruz,” Courtney slurred, throwing an arm around her.
Kate laughed at Abby’s snarl.
“Don’t get sappy, Seaborn. You’re just a sloppy drunk.”
“Oh, fuck you. Maybe I should chase you into that kitchen for old times’ sake.”
“Sure, let me go light a cigarette first.”
Abby nodded at Kate and led her away from their giggling friends. Kate tried to stop her from getting more drinks, pulled her back by the tie like she’d longed to for hours, but then released her and apologized before their faces came dangerously close. And in the brief minutes apart, Kate ached for her to return, surviving off glimpses of her from the corner.
“I don’t know if I can drink any more,” Kate hiccupped when Abby returned.
“It’s club soda.” Abby winked.
Kate sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
“To turning two.”
The lights cast her skin and gaze in a golden hue. She locked eyes with Kate as if up to bat, choosing the perfect pitch, driving that record-breaking swing.
“To turning two.” Kate clung to the pleasant weightlessness, surely the result of the booze and having Abby to herself. Something she hadn’t allowed herself since Isla’s. “And to next season.”
“Already on to next season?”
“Isn’t that half the allure of softball? Looking forward to the next chance?”
Abby chuckled. “Maybe. I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.”
“Definitely a blessing,” Kate said.
Their eyes met again, and Abby cleared her throat, leaning closer to speak above the music. “Is this miserable for you? Slumming it at Sunny’s?”
“It’s fine.” She sipped her club soda, hopeful but unconvinced it would sober her. She braced herself on the table to not sway, and when she glanced at Mick, she frowned. “Are you really going to hit on Haley’s friend?” Her delivery landed more hostile than intended.
