After a win of nine to four, the energy in here is the most electric it’s been since we were in Toronto. There’s a spark of approval flaming to life in my chest when Rhys Casey passes me with a light pat on the arm. He’s not the only player who notices my presence and offers congratulations or supportive touches. While a bit awkward for me, I accept their efforts and offer some of my own.
They’re the ones who won the game, after all. The only job I had was sitting back and making a few background decisions.
“Woah, is there a pig in the sky or something?” Wesley teases from the chair he’s melting into.
Beside him, Finn’s got his phone pressed to his ear and a sloppy grin on his face. I ignore the deep ache of what I know better not be jealousy when I hear him promise Aubrey that he’ll be grabbing her from her place as soon as he’s finished here.
The ease with which he says that while looking so pleased with himself has images of Brielle instantly attacking my mind. I can’t stop thinking about her sparse fridge and the damn pink pots and pans that looked brand new, as if she’d never evenused them before. It took all my effort not to linger and cook what I could for her to have throughout the week once we’d finished eating and I’d made her come twice on my tongue. Not to mention the mess of her apartment.
Fuck, she’s unorganized.
Little bits of fabric were thrown all over the place, and I stepped on at least three buttons that were decorating her floor. The back of my shirt was covered in sequins by the time I got home and peeled it off. There’s still a sparkling spot on my carpet that I couldn’t make myself vacuum up. Not two nights ago when I first noticed, or this morning when I left it once again before heading to the stadium.
As a certified clean freak, thatdoesn’thappen. Nothing that’s been going on in the last few weeks is usual for me.
“Watch it, Wes. You’re going to make him go back into hiding,” Beck says.
I blink, zoning back in to see him swat the back of Wesley’s head. The closing pitcher winks at me in a way that screamsI know something you don’t.Whatever it is, I really don’t care. It’s better for everyone if I never learn the thoughts that run wildly through that guy’s head.
Especially when I’ve been feeling this misplaced aggression toward him lately. It has me carrying on through the clubhouse, needing to leave as soon as possible.
“Got a hot date or something, Rome?” he pokes, forcing me to stop with a scowl.
Wesley snaps his fingers while saying, “Oh shit, here we go!”
“I doubt Coach wants to gossip with you like a bunch of teenage boys,” Jett subtly scolds the duo.
When I look at him, he offers me a nod, as if he’s more aware of my emotions than I’d have thought. It makes sense, I guess. He’s the most responsible one on the entire team. I’d assumethat comes from becoming a father at such a young age, let alone a single one.
I feel a bit of admiration toward him for that.
“What do you say, Rome? Got time for a quick beer at the bar with us? I promise we can behave well enough,” Wesley rambles, pushing to his feet.
“I’m good.”
Brielle’s brother blinks twice before recovering with a laugh. “Suit yourself. You’ll regret that choice when we fly out on Sunday and you’re lacking fun memories to daydream about.”
My gut tightens. The reminder of leaving again in two days pulls an unexpected response from me.
Dread.
Suddenly, not only do I want to call Brielle just to hear her voice, but I also want to see her. Heading home early was supposed to leave me the opportunity to maybe give her a call or respond to one of the three texts she’s sent me today, but now, I want to bypass all of the responsible things I should do and show up at her place instead.
Evie’s at the studio tonight. She’s been there all week, really. I saw her for lunch today, but it wasn’t the same as sitting down and having dinner together far too late at night.
I expected to feel lonelier with her absence, not grateful for the opportunity to fill my night with Brielle instead.
The reminder of what we spoke about the other night makes an appearance as I stare at Wes. “Ask me next time.”
“For real?”
“Yes.”
There are dimples when he grins at me. “You got it.”
I dip my chin and give my players one last glance before leaving.
Petal’s long gone by the time I unlock the shop door and slip inside.
