Everyone quiets down because the way Patrick runs this team deserves that kind of attention. Our manager not only makes the right lineup decisions and the late-inning calls, but he backs every single one of us.
“Let’s stay right here. Same focus. Same energy. Same edge. Stay sharp, play clean, trust the guy next to you.” A full smile lifts his lips. “Good win. Enjoy it—but not too much.Showers, food, media, and get out. Be ready tomorrow. We’ve got two more to take.”
He pushes off the wall, accepting a tablet from one of the pitching coaches as the two of them file out of the room.
The clubhouse devolves into chatter as some guys strip off their uniforms, but I simply wait. It’s not long before Alex sweeps in with Daphne on her heels. I bracket my hands on my hips, a smirk settling on my mouth.
“I just knew you’d be smug,” Alex says while smiling at me.
“Me?” I point to my chest with mock innocence.
Alex rolls her eyes, but her grin remains as she positions the microphone between us. “Might as well get this over with.”
It’s not our flirtiest interview, but the light shining in Alex’s brown eyes is undeniable. She’s as excited to report on my breakout game as I am to talk about it.
What would it be like to have someone who matches your energy, whoreallygets you, there for you at the end of the day?
Someone to share your victories with?
Someone who truly cares?
My shoulders droop as I realize…I might never know.
A sickening sensation swirls in my stomach as I glance at the floor, completely missing Alex’s next question.
“Give us a sec, will you?”
I don’t fully register Alex’s words until Daphne turns off her camera and drifts over to talk with DJ.
My face lifts with a plastic smile. “Couldn’t wait to get me alone, could you?”
Alex twists her lips to the side before her fingertips hover over my sleeve.
When I realize how desperate I am for her to smooth them over the fabric of my jersey, my chin dips again.
Internally, I chide myself.Time to kick this sad-sack routine to the curb. You just hit the season’s first grand slam, darn it!
Only…I know I can’t get out of this funk with Alex looking at me with gentle concern. Not when she’s wearingmy shirt,and her hair is mussed from cheering, and her cheeks are still slightly too pink from her genuine joy over the game.
That’s every baseball player’s dream—or at least it’s mine—to find someone who loves this game as much as I do. It’s not just a huge part of my life; itismy life. I plan on playing until my legs give out, and then I’ll find some way to keep it in my life, whether it be coaching, scouting, or becoming an on-air commentator.
A ragged exhale leaves my mouth, but I don’t lift my gaze. I can’t. I’m suddenly more exhausted than if I had to battle through twenty fouls to get a hit.
“Are we done?”
I hear the defeat in my words, but I don’t have the energy to mask it.
Alex hesitates before saying, “Yeah, Tenny. We’re done.”
Keeping my gaze fixed on the shower room, I press forward. Going through the rest of the post-game routine is a blur. My head is such a jumbled mess I almost forget to see Margo to ice my hands. By the time we line up to board the chartered bus to the hotel, I can barely keep my head up.
Trevor stops me before I step in line. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just zonked.”
He pats my shoulder. “A big game will do that. Head straight to bed when we get to the hotel. No dancing tonight.”
As the oldest member of the team, Trevor tends to be a bit paternal with the rest of us. But since he’s ten years my senior and a baseball legend, I’m not about to ignore his advice.
