Page 40 of Convincing the Catcher

She looks up at me while I hold her tightly, cradling her body against mine. “We?” she whispers, sniffling.

“Yeah, Catch,” I rasp. “If it’s okay, I’d like to go with you. I can stay outside or get a hotel room near the hospital. I just—” I stop. “I don’t want you to have to go all alone.”

Glossy eyes stare up at me. “What about baseball practice?”

“This is more important,” I answer evenly.

Slowly, she nods through a sob. “Thank you, Cane. I’ll pay you back every cent. I promise.”

Of course that’s what she’s worried about. Because she’s wired to take care of herself, and lately, she’s had to lean on me.

She may hate it, but I like being the guy she lets close enough to help her. I’ll wear that badge with fucking pride any day.

“I’m not worried about it.” I shake my head. “Let me help you pack your things up real quick, and we’ll go,” I say, slowly helping her up until she’s standing. As she starts to turn to go toward the house, my hand catches hers. “Harland?” I say, looking into her green eyes.

“Yeah?” she whispers weakly.

I can feel the pain in her voice, and it stabs at my heart. She looks so lost, so helpless right now, her shoulders sagging in defeat, knowing that she’s about to go through the hardest thing she may ever go through.

“I am so sorry you’re having to deal with all this.” I swallow, fighting back the lump that’s lodged itself into my throat. “I’ve been in your shoes, and I know nothing I or anyone else can say is going to make anything better. But just know I’m here, okay?”

Her lip trembles, and she nods faintly. I drop her wrist gently and follow her into the house.

I’d give anything to take away the hurt she’s about to feel. I’d do anything I could to change this night and make it so that this wasn’t part of her story. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power.

Harland Meadows may be the strongest woman I know, but no amount of strength is going to take away this pain or the one that is going to follow it. That much I know. And because of that, I don’t care how many practices I miss. I want to be there for the catcher.

NINETEEN

CANE

After fighting sleep throughout the first flight and most of the second, Harley finally dozed off, her head on my shoulder. Her neck is bent, and she doesn’t look comfortable, but I don’t want to move her because she needs to rest, even if this flight is nearly over. Today could be a long one, and every minute counts.

As much as I love to see her smile, I haven’t spent the past six hours trying to put one on her face because I know that won’t make things any better. When my dad died and one of his friends came over to pay his condolences, he kept trying to lighten the mood, but it was useless. I didn’t want the mood lightened. My dad was dead; there was no making light of that.

The girl is about to lose her father, and if she wants to be sad, I’m going to let her be sad.

Coach wasn’t exactly thrilled with me, but when I told him a close friend’s dad was dying and I didn’t want her to be alone, he couldn’t be too pissed off that I would be missing practices this weekend. Though, if this were during the actual season, he might have wanted to kill me.

I look down at her while keeping my body as still as possible, not wanting to startle her. Strands of red hair fall over her face, and her snores are barely audible.

I wish I had known sooner what she was going through, but she never mentioned that her dad was sick, so I had no idea of it.

When my dad died, we hadn’t gotten to say goodbye because it was a car accident—one where he was driving to pick me up from practice. My whole life, I’ve carried the guilt of that around. Some days, it’s almost like a gnawing pain in my stomach, eating away at me bit by bit. Other times, I try to push it from my mind. Even on those days, it’s still … there. Always.

The pilot makes the announcement that we’ve begun our descent and will be landing shortly, causing Harley to stir.

I’ve never been much for flying, but I’ve spent the past two flights so distracted by what’s going on in Harley’s life that I haven’t once convinced myself that the plane is going down, like I normally do.

Slowly, she wipes her eyes and lifts her head up—quicker when she realizes it’s my shoulder that it’s resting on.

“How long have I been out?” she asks, fighting a yawn.

“Not very long,” I murmur. “About forty-five minutes, I’d say.” I grin slightly. “The dude behind us has kicked both of our seats about ten fucking times. I was ready to break his legs off if he woke you up.”

She rolls her eyes, but the corner of her lips turns up subtly, and she taps her hand against my chest. “Easy, tough guy. I don’t want to be featured on a TikTok reel later with the guy who gets into a fight on the plane.” She lifts a brow. “Besides, people are starting to leave you alone. And I know you don’t check your socials much anymore, but the comment section is back to being pretty positive.” She frowns. “I mean, did you lose thousands of followers? Yes. But still … things are looking better.”

“All because NEU’s beloved catcher is my friend.” I wink. “Look at you, Catch. Out here, saving one asshole’s reputation at a time.”