Everything about raising the bat was second nature at this point. I knew where to grip the carved wood in my palms, how to bend my elbows to swing out at the exact moment. But new sensations joined my muscle memory—a tightness in my core, and a cold sweat dripping down my spine. The pitcher’s eyes met mine, narrowed in his determination. Yeah, I’d pissed him off in the past; that wouldn’t be unfamiliar territory for me. But I tried not to think about it, only focusing on the breath circulating in and out of my lungs.
Just breathe.
But when the pitcher stared at me and released the ball, everything went blank. The ball soared past the bat and slammed right into the catcher’s glove. The ump screamed something, but the words came out muffled, still too focused on that fucking ball in the glove. Sitting there. Taunting me.Good,Jace, now you’re creating vendettas with inanimate objects.Seemed like a step in the right direction.
Probably not, but it was enough to snap me out of my head. I might be trying to find better coping mechanisms, but I still wanted to do well. Above everything else, I wanted that fucking mark in the win column, and I wanted to help the Hawks get there.
Shaking my head, I tapped the bat on the plate and then squared off with the pitcher. His determination from earlier had shifted—more ego, less impact. Worked for me. This time, I didn’t force away the pressure, didn’t shove it to the back corner of my mind. Instead, it rippled through my forearms, and my fingers flexed in my gloves. When he wound up, I was ready, every muscle in my body primed to make the hit. When the ball collided with my bat, the vibrations ricocheted through me, spurring my legs to move.
I ignored the cries from my other teammates as I rushed to first base, trying to see where the ball had gone. It had to be in; no one had called an out yet, so that had to be a good sign. By the time I rounded second, the shortstop rushed toward me, his glove lifted in the air. Fuck that. My legs pounded the dirt, red-hued clay flying out from under my feet. When the ball slid into his glove, I dove, my arms outstretched high above my head. My fingertips touched the bag just as he tapped my back with the ball, and I sagged against the earth, eyes squeezed shut as I waited for the call.
“Safe!”
Fuck yes.My hands slapped the bag, and I couldn’t hold back the wide grin on my face. This was what I needed, what brought me back to the fucking field every day. The rush. The chase. And maybe it wasn’t a home run, but I’d take a fucking double any day of the week. As I stood, I wiped the dirt off my pants and snuck a look over at the dugout. Benny’s stare caught mine, andhe dipped his chin slightly. Not enough for anyone else to catch it, but enough for me. I was finally on the right track.
Now, I just needed to stay here for good.
“Nice play out there, Lyons,”a voice called out from behind me. With a slight shift of my chin, Cam Seda, our shortstop, moved to my side, pulling stuff out of the locker stall next to mine. When I’d come back to the team, someone else had claimed my old locker, and this was the only open one left, all the others already tagged with the player’s name above them in the same green, thick font that covered the rest of the stadium. Mine had yet to make it back up there.
I dipped my chin in thanks but said little more. It was an open secret that Cam and I hadn’t gotten along my first time on the team. Some people were oil and water—we were fire and gasoline. His calm, regimented demeanor brushed against my jaded one, and he represented everything I wanted to be. Everything Ishouldhave been, according to my father.
While I’d been one of the first drafted within my class, Cam got picked up from the minors and joined the team early in the regular season. The irony of our situations being reversed now wasn’t lost on me. He was the star of the team, his jersey selling out of the stadium shops every week, while I was the interloper—the replacement for the guys handpicked for the team.
Cam cleared his throat, pulling my gaze away from the guys on the field. “How are you doing? With being back here?”
I shook my head. “Ramos tell you to check in on me?”
“You know Damien,” Cam sighed. “Can’t help but mother hen, even when he’s injured.”
“Sounds about right,” I answered, keeping my eyes trained on the new recruits. Damn, they made us all look like amateurs. Most were barely out of high school, and that made me feel old, even though I’d just celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday. Baseball wreaked havoc on my joints, especially my elbows and knees, but I’d suck it up, all for the game. Without it, I had nothing else.
You need to find fulfillment outside of baseball. Doctor Walken’s words played back in my mind and made me wince. Well, fuck that. I hadn’t worked my ass off for the better part of two years to blow my shot now.
I turned to say something more to Cam when Parker Drobrek, the third baseman, dropped onto the couch in front of us. He took off his hat, shoving his blond hair away from his face, and blinked behind his brown, plastic-rimmed glasses. “Fuck, these new contacts are killing me.”
“Is that your excuse for missing that catch?” Cam said.
“Keep it up.” Parker smirked as he leaned closer, staring at the side of my head. “You good, Jace?”
I frowned. “Be better when you two assholes stop staring at me like I’m about to pop off at any second.”
Cam just shook his head as Parker barked a loud laugh. “Maybe after we kick the Rebels’ asses. Get a few runs, and then we’ll stop babying you.”
“Deal.”
Cam heaved his bag onto his shoulder, and then Parker stood to join him. Before they could leave the locker room, he bumped Cam’s shoulder. “Ollie showed me the bridesmaids’ dresses last night. Can’t believe you’re getting married in six months, Seda.”
“No shit?” I asked. “You made it official with Hadley?”
“Yeah,” Cam said, a wide smile taking over his features. “Asked her at the All-Star Game. We’re getting married this fall.”
“About time,” I grumbled.
“You’re supposed to say congrats,” Parker mused.
“Yeah, that too.” I nodded over to Parker. “What about you? Finally get Ollie to notice you?”
Parker’s grin slid off his face, a hardness setting behind his eyes.That was new.“We’re just friends. And no, that doesn’t mean you can hit on her. She’s not interested.”
