Текст книги "Third Base"
Автор книги: Heidi McLaughlin
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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 15 страниц)
The Renegades are BACK!!
The second major road trip of the season didn’t go in our favor. Tampa Bay came out ahead, winning two of the three games and the Renegades didn’t fare much better against the Orioles. Sunday’s game against the O’s had us giving up eighteen runs.
Three weeks in and we’re giving up more runs than scoring: 108 earned / 114 given.
Manager, Cal Diamond, chose not to speak to the press after Sunday’s game. Could his time be coming to an end in Boston?
First baseman, Kayden Cross, is the only notable player from this road series. He had a hit in every game and drove in at least one run a game.
The Renegades are 12-10 going into this nine-game home stand with two days off. Let’s hope those days are spent on the much needed … well... everything.
GOSSIP WIRE
I’m hearing more and more rumors that Steve Bainbridge is out at the end of the year. Cooper Bailey has been in at Lowery Field meeting with upper management while the Renegades were on the road. It’s also being rumored that Bainbridge may have strayed from his marriage and his wife is giving him an ultimatum to get the hell out of Boston or else. Clearly, divorce is not an option for Bainbridge’s wife. It’s probably the iron clad pre-nup she had to sign before they were married, but nonetheless, a wife scorned is never fun.
Surely if Cooper Bailey comes to Beantown, Ethan Davenport will no longer be Boston’s most eligible bachelor. It’d be nice to see Davenport get a run for his money in that department.
It’ll be interesting to watch Twitter in the next few days to see how many “hook-ups” the Renegades had on their road trip.
One thing is for sure; Ethan Davenport seems to have fallen, at least according to an early morning tweet after the team reportedly arrived in Tampa Bay. Let’s hope he didn’t hit his head to hard.
The BoRe Blogger
The first thing I do after my shower is text Daisy to see if she’d like to meet for lunch. I’m still in the dark about a lot of personal things when it comes to her and it didn’t escape my notice that each time we spoke while I was away, it was about my game. She would rarely answer questions, except for the basics like favorite food and color. I get why she keeps everything to herself. I’m a wildcard where she’s concerned. She’s read the rumors, and while some are true, others have been made up purely to get traffic to a certain website. Nonetheless, I’d be hesitant too. Most people only dream of meeting celebrities, sports figures, and the like, but to have one calling you at odd hours just to talk, has to be pretty freaking surreal.
She answers when I call at one a.m. after being in the bar with the guys. She doesn’t ask what I’ve been doing, or if I’ve been with anyone even though I want her to. I want to be able to tell her that she has been on my mind since that first morning in Tampa and that I can’t wait to see her again. I hold back, though, because I don’t want to scare her away. It’s important for me to pursue her the right way and not like the sex-crazed twenty-two-year old that I am.
For the first time in a long time, I want this girl to like me, and not the one that makes a regular appearance in the sports pages of the tabloids. Rarely do I find a woman who isn’t related to me that can talk shop and understand what I’m saying, although, that could come back to bite me in the ass if I keep playing like shit. I have no doubt Daisy will tell me where I fucked up and what I need to do to get better.
Daisy texts back saying she wants to meet at T. Anthony’s Pizzeria. Between the pizza joint and the place we had breakfast, I can pretty much guess that we’re meeting in between her classes, even though she won’t tell me what her schedule is. I’m going to have to find a way to get it out of her because I’m hoping there will be a day where I want to surprise her. I can see myself showing up on campus and leaning against my car as I wait for her to come out of her dorm or class. I’m getting ahead of myself here, having these thoughts. I don’t even know if she likes me or just feels sorry for me right now.
The BoRe Blogger was quiet while we were on our road trip. The losses diminished most of our spirits and no one wanted to do anything. I didn’t play as well as I had been which is bringing my batting average down. My father doesn’t like that and has expressed his displeasure with my strikeouts after one of the games. Even though I’m playing at the highest level possible, you’re never too old to take feedback from your first coach, especially when he’s your dad.
There’s a light drizzle falling as I drive over to T. Anthony’s. I hate thinking Daisy is out walking in this. I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts. My first thought about rain shouldn’t be about Daisy, but about whether we’re going to play tonight. We have three games until we get a day off. And that day off just so happens to be Daisy’s birthday. I’m hoping that I’ll be able to see her, but I’m assuming her family will want to take up all of her time.
I park across the street from the restaurant and jaywalk through traffic. Definitely not the brightest decision I’ve made today. I half jog, half speed walk to get out of the light rain and as soon as I reach for the door, Daisy is there, pushing it open for me.
“Hi.” You would think that I’m out of breath from zigzagging my way over here, but I’m simply out of breath from looking at her. Today, there’s no BoRe fan staring back at me, but a sexy co-ed who I want to get to know better. Her blonde hair is flowing in long curls that I want to twist around my fingers or pull on them to see if they bounce back. She’s wearing a light coating of make-up, nothing too heavy, but enough to make her eyes stand out even more. She’s wearing a black sweater and jeans with boots, and as much as she looks like every other college girl in town, her sheer beauty makes her stand out. When she smiles, I am done for. If I weren’t holding the door, I’d be on my knees in front of her.
“Hi,” she says back sending my nerves into a tizzy. One freaking word and I’m a borderline pansy boy. At least, that’s what Kidd would say. I need to rein it in because if I’m not careful I could be making a fool out of myself where she’s concerned.
“Hi,” I say, stupidly and end up blushing, which, in turn, causes her to laugh. I give in to temptation and pick up one of her curls and pull it between my thumb and finger before letting it go. It bounces back into place like a spring. She laughs and all I can think about is giving her a hug. It’ll have to wait until after lunch.
“I already got us a table.” She motions behind her, the grin never leaving her face. Maybe we needed that hiccup to get past the awkward stage to where we are now.
I take her hand in mine and let her lead the way. As we walk down the aisle, my name is mentioned in loud whispers. I nod and smile at each person who’s looking, hoping that they give Daisy and me some time alone before they start bombarding me with autograph and photo requests.
I sit down across from her and place my hands on the table. “I have questions.” She blushes, but nods.
“I figured. Go ahead, but I’m warning you now that I reserve the right to not answer.” Her hands are folded on the table like mine. I use this to my advantage and move my arms a bit closer toward hers. My index finger lightly strokes her knuckles and when she doesn’t pull away, I take it as a good sign.
“Are you in between classes, or skipping again?” I cock my eyebrow at her.
She smirks, beating me at my own game. “What if I were skipping?”
“Well, I’d feel bad. I know my schedule isn’t that flexible, but I don’t want you skipping to spend time with me…” I trail off, realizing that didn’t come out as planned, so I try again. “What I mean is that your education is important.”
“Well, thanks for that, Professor Davenport! No, I’m not skipping.” Her lips curl into a small grin before she continues. “Is it okay if I ask questions too?”
“Of course,” I tell her.
“Okay, do you regret tweeting out your address?”
I hang my head in shame and nod. When I look up, she’s laughing at me. I don’t blame her. I’d laugh at my stupid ass too if I were her. “Worst mistake ever.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“I was new in town and wanted to meet my neighbors so I thought I’d have a little get together at my place, but no one showed up, so I sent out the tweet. I deleted it a few seconds later, but the damage was already done.”
“Do you have random people showing up at your house?”
“No, not anymore, but I used to.”
Daisy leans closer and whispers the next question. “What do you do in the off-season?”
“I go home and visit, but spent most of my winter in Boston. I love the winter festival downtown and I had my family out here for Christmas last year. With my brother-in-law being deployed, I tried to make Christmas as fun as possible for my sister and niece. What type of pizza do you like?” I spot the waitress out of the corner of my eye. I want to be able to order and send her on her way.
“Most anything, really. Sausage and mushroom is my favorite from here.”
“I’ve never had the pie here. I’m looking forward to it.”
“It’s really good.” The movement is subtle, but I notice it when she pushes her hand into my touch. To me, this is a sign, and I roll with it by taking her hand in mine. It’s a bit awkward to hold hands on top of the table, but I’m being a gentleman. Next time I’ll share a booth with her.
I quickly place our order and turn my attention back to the beauty across the table from me.
“So, Daisy, do you live in the dorms?”
She takes a drink of water and dabs her mouth with her napkin. “My freshman year I did. Since then, I moved home to save money.”
“So no wild sorority parties?”
Daisy laughs, but doesn’t exactly answer me. She stares at her lap, like she’s thinking of something, so I tell her about my wild days.
“At Oregon State, I was in a fraternity. I wasn’t going to pledge because of baseball, but my buddy thought it would be a great way to meet chicks.”
“Was it?”
I nod. “Yes, and no. I had a girlfriend when I went to college so I never really did the party thing, plus I was busy with baseball. But my junior year – that’s when the parties were off the hook. For every party we had, though, we were also doing community service and fundraisers. Some of them were a bit scandalous.”
Her eyes pop when I mention the word scandalous. “Like what?” she asks, leaning forward.
“Well, this one year, the baseball team did a carwash… in our underwear... in November.”
Daisy covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. “You can laugh all you want. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever participated in, but it gave some orphans a chance at a decent Christmas.”
“That was very nice of you.”
I shrug and reluctantly let go of her hand when our pizza arrives. Our water glasses are refilled and we’re asked if we need anything else. Daisy is the one who tells her we’re fine and digs right into the pie. I like a girl with an appetite and who doesn’t want to eat rabbit food all the time. Sometimes you need to indulge in some carbs to survive.
We eat the first couple of pieces in silence until I open my mouth and, in true Ethan Davenport form, ask the dumbest question yet.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” I catch her mid chew and she shoots me what can only be described as an “are you kidding me right now?” look. She puts her fork down and covers her mouth with her napkin while she finishes chewing.
“If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Fair enough,” I say, knowing that’s not even remotely enough to satisfy my mind. “I’m sorry it was rude of me to ask or to make the assumption.” I don’t want to say that I made the assumption that she would, in fact, cheat because I really do feel like she’s different from the others out there.
“Are you going to game tonight?” This is my roundabout way of trying to find out if I’ll see her in the stands, even though I know she’ll be there. More importantly, it gives me a chance to ask her out for later.
“I haven’t missed a game in years, even when I had the flu.”
“Wow, now that’s dedication. I don’t know if I’d get out of bed if I had the flu.”
Daisy laughs and sets her hand back down on the table. Is this a sign that she wants me to touch her or is she simply resting her hand there?
“Not to be rude, but most men think they’re dying when they’re sick.”
I pretend to be insulted, but she’s telling the truth. “Being sick hurts every single bone in my body.”
“Yeah, but you can dive head first into a base and get up just fine.”
I lean forward so the gap between us isn’t so big. “But our bodies are trained for that. We aren’t trained to expel the contents of our stomach. If we were, being sick would be called something else.”
“Good point.” I love that she concedes, but the glint in her eye tells me that even though I may have won this round, the next won’t be so easy. Sadistically, I look forward to an all-out heated battle with her. I have a feeling she’s a fiery little devil when she wants to be.
When the check arrives, I quickly pay and balk at her offering me her half. I give her a stern look, telling her that I don’t want her money, before I crack a smile. The eye roll is epic and so worth it. I’m comfortable with Daisy and am sensing that she feels the same way.
As I leave the booth, I take her hand and pull her behind me. My palm is on fire from her touch, sending my mind into overdrive. I don’t give her any option but to follow me to my car across the street. Her short legs have to work double time to keep up with my long strides. That is something I’m going to have to make an effort to change when I’m with her.
When we get to the side of my car, away from traffic, I pull her into my arms. She gasps, caught off guard, but I can’t wait any longer. It sucks that I have to bend to hug her, but it’s worth it to be able to have her pressed against my body. Her arms slide under my jacket and around my waist, as I take a deep inhale of her neck and hair. It’s not flowers that I smell, but the sun and beach. Her hair smells like coconut, causing me to linger longer than what is deemed acceptable for a friendly hug.
Touching her in the most innocent way – a hug – is killing me. My nerve endings are on fire, like they’re exposed and I’m finding that I have to grit my teeth to keep some semblance of composure. I let my lips graze her cheek, hoping to convey my intentions.
When I pull back to see if Daisy is feeling what I am, she doesn’t meet my eyes, effectively killing my mojo. I know for a fact that if she had looked at me, I would’ve kissed her. And I would’ve loved it. Instead, I’m forced to find any excuse to touch her. I push her hair behind her shoulder, tempted to pull it forward again. She looks at me, but the moment isn’t right.
“What time is your class?”
“I have class at two.”
“May I drive you?”
She nods and my inner self is fist pumping like there’s no tomorrow. I open the door and help her slide in before running around to the other side. At least for today, the inside of my car will smell like Daisy and that makes me very happy.
After dropping Daisy off on campus, and watching her walk away, I drove around town trying to stay enveloped in everything of her that’s been left in my car. I need to find a subtle way to find out what fragrance she wears so I can make sure she’s always fully stocked. It’s hard to describe and seems ridiculous for me to say she smells like warmth and home, but that’s what it is for me. She makes me feel comfortable.
I stop at my Brownstone before heading to the stadium. I plan to ask Daisy if she wants to do something for her birthday, preferably at my place, so we can have some privacy. When I open the door I can tell my maid service has already come and gone. It doesn’t take them long to clean during the season since I’m hardly home. The winter is a different story. There are days when I refuse to leave because it’s so cold, and I dread the winter workouts.
As I look around, I wonder if Daisy will like my place. All my walls are gray, but with white woodwork and cabinets. I went with black, red and white furniture to blend with the gray. My guest bedroom has a white comforter while mine is dark blue. My leather couch and comforter are the only things I picked out. My mom and sister did the rest.
I look at my king size bed and imagine Daisy lying there with her blonde hair, contrasting with my blue sheets. She’s going to look pale, gorgeous, and sexy as fuck, and I can’t wait until I’m lying next to her. I want to see her in my home, to see if these things I’m feeling are the real deal or just from the excitement from knowing someone new. What I do know is that my senses are heightened when I touch her and my nerves are zinging with electricity when she’s near. I never felt like this with Sarah. That has to mean something although I’m not sure what. What I am sure of is that my gut is telling me I can’t push her no matter how much I want to get to know every inch of her body as soon as humanly possible.
When I arrive at the stadium there’s a note in my locker to go see the GM. If it were serious, he would’ve called me and asked me to come in. As is, it’s still nerve-racking climbing the stairs to see the man who could change your life in the blink of an eye. What’s worse is that he’s only a few years older than me.
Wendy is sitting at her desk, typing away. When I walk in, she stops and smiles. “Mr. Stone is waiting for you.”
“Thanks,” I say. I knock on his door once before I twist the knob and enter. Ryan Stone is standing at his floor to ceiling windows that overlooks the field. He truly has the best view, but there’s nothing like being down where the action is. “Hey boss.”
Ryan turns around and motions for me to sit in one of the chairs that are situated in front of his desk. Last year, I walked in to talk to him about the BoRe Blogger only to be interrupted by none other than Hadley Carter, who I had a massive crush on. Turns out, Hadley and our boss used to be an item and she was here to win him back. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t believe in love. She won her man back, and they ended up getting married on the field.
“How are you feeling these days?”
I know he’s asking about my nervous tick and honestly I haven’t felt it during the past few days. Come to think of it, this afternoon at lunch I didn’t have to hide my hands at all.
“I’ve been trying acupuncture and I think it’s helping, but not all the time. When I’m nervous, it’s always worse.”
Ryan opens a file and briefly picks up a sheet of paper before setting it down on top of the open folder on his desk. “I’m not seeing it affect you on the field.”
I shake my head. “No sir, I’m comfortable on the field and when I’m batting.”
“The extra time with Diamond paid off then?”
“I believe so.”
Ryan makes a note and closes my file. He’s been a hands-on general manager, making sure that everything is okay with his players.
“Are you ready for some media training?”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. I’ve been waiting for this moment for over a year now. “Yes, sir. Tell me what I have to do.”
Ryan slides another sheet of paper toward me. I take it and read it two or three times before my mind starts going crazy. I’m to attend Media Marketing at Boston University. I’ll be on the same campus as Daisy for two weeks.
“Sir, here I was hoping your wife was going to teach me!”
“Nice try, Davenport,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Everything good? Are you still obsessed with the BoRe Blogger?”
I grind my teeth and clench the armrests of the chair. Ryan knows how I feel about the blogger. I know some of my issues with the blogger are from my own stupidity, but everything I do, or the team does, is posted on this blog. Can’t he write about baseball and call it good? The other day he implied that Bainbridge is cheating on his wife. That shit isn’t cool.
“Unfortunately, I don’t see my obsession going away anytime soon.” It’s probably best for me if I learn to ignore the blog, but I don’t see that happening.
“Well, Hadley read it and she saw that you’ve been spending some time with someone. She wants to know if you want to bring her to dinner?”
“Um…” I run my hand through my hair. Dinner with Hadley Carter is at the top of my must do list, but having the boss there – not so much. However, it would be stupid to pass up an invite from him.
“I can tell you’re uncomfortable, so I’ll make sure to extend the invite to the team. We’ll make it a party. Hadley will have fun with something like this.”
“Okay, Boss. Let me know when.”
I stand and shake his hand, taking my class assignment with me and leaving his office. I pull out my phone and text Daisy as I walk back to the clubhouse.
Do you have Media Marketing?
Daisy: No, why? Do you need media training?
Sadly, yes! I’ll tell you about it later. Dinner tonight?
Daisy: Only if you win :)
Thanks, no pressure now! Can’t wait to see you...
I hit send before I can erase the last sentence, and shut off my phone so I’m not waiting for her response. I want her to know that I want to see her. I hope my message conveys that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.
Despite the early afternoon drizzle, the evening has shaped up to be pretty pleasant. Even at the end of April, it’s still chilly at night but getting warmer each day. Tonight, when I step out of the dugout for batting practice, my eyes are right on Daisy’s seat and, much to my surprise, she’s sitting there with her elbows leaning on the visitor dugout, watching our second baseman, Bryce Mackenzie, take his swings. She hasn’t noticed that I’m on the field yet and as much as I want to go over and talk to her, I can’t. I need to maintain some sort of professionalism right now.
Instead, I walk over to the stands and start signing autographs. The little kids, and even some big ones, flock down to the fence to get a signature on their ball, glove or bat. A few of the other guys join me, making this a team effort.
I move along the fence, making sure everyone is getting a chance instead of having to wait in a large crowd. I really like giving kids one-on-one attention. The bigger kids tend to squeeze the little ones out, and that annoys me. I take a ball from a little guy dressed in BoRe gear. His toothless grin reminds me of myself when I was about his age. For the longest time, I missed my four front teeth. Eating food that summer was difficult, especially popsicles.
It’s still not my turn for batting practice so I move over to the third base side of the field, just steps away from Daisy. I know she can see me now and I when I look toward her, she’s smiling. I’ve impressed her, or at least I think I have. I’m waiting to see if she’ll come down to the opening. Each time I glance at her it seems like she’s thinking about it. I sign a few more items before moving to the other side of the dugout where Daisy is standing.
A few of the fans rush down, but my eyes are locked on hers. Before I left the clubhouse, I grabbed a brand new baseball and wrote: Will you go to dinner with me tonight? I did this with the intent of giving it to her after the game started, but I don’t want to wait. She walks down the few steps to get to get to me, saying ‘excuse me’ along the way. At first the fans balk, but I think they get the drift that I want to see her because before I know it, she’s standing in front of me.
“Nice hat,” I say as I tap the rim. It’s the same hat she wears for every game, but my brain can’t come up with anything else to say right now. She makes me fumble through my thoughts just to say the simplest things. I don’t know if it’s her smile, her eyes or her sheer presence that gets me tongue-tied, but I don’t want this feeling to stop. What I do want to stop is the twitching my hand is doing. I have a hard enough time around her as it is that I don’t need her distracted by this ailment. I pull the ball out of my back pocket and squeeze it, trying to control the shaking.
“I think you might like my jersey,” she says with a hint of humor in her voice. She turns around slowly, showing me my name and number on her back. A few of the adults near us snicker, making me wish I could flip them off and tell them to get the fuck lost so I can bask in the fact that this girl, that I really like, is going to sit in the stands with my name on her back. If I didn’t have my cup in, everyone would see the fucking woody I’m sprouting right now because this is hot... not to mention that it’s also a sign that she’s actually into me.
“Wow,” I say, stepping closer. My hands rest on the railing that she’s pressed against and I let my right hand touch her thigh. I have to lean down to do this, but it’s worth it. Even with all the cell phones out, it doesn’t stop me from touching her. “You really know how to impress a guy.”
“Davenport, you’re up.” I look over my shoulder and nod. “I gotta go,” I tell her as I fight every muscle in my body from leaning forward to kiss her. We are going to have our first kiss soon, I just don’t know when. I do know that I’m going crazy with the need to feel her lips pressed against mine. “I have this for you.” I hand her the ball and her finger tips brush mine, sending a jolt to my system.
Daisy reads the words and looks up, her green eyes piercing mine. “Yes,” she says loud enough for me to hear, giving me the sweetest smile in the process.
“Fuck me,” I say as I turn away and adjust myself. I don’t know where the BoRe Blogger is now, but I hope he isn’t counting how many times I’m adjusting myself because I have a feeling I’ll be fixing my cup all night.
Branch Singleton, our designated hitter, is finishing up when I get there. I use the extra minutes to put my batting gloves on and take a couple of practice swings.
“Hold the bat, Davenport.” Cal Diamond is walking toward me and all I can think is that I’m not starting because of what I just did with Daisy, even though it’s nothing different than what any of the other guys have done. “Bainbridge had something come up and I need you to take his place at the Rotary dinner Thursday night.”
Thursday is Daisy’s birthday.
“I have plans,” I blurt out.
Diamond stands firm with his hands on his hips, glaring at me. He glares at everyone. He’s the manager, it’s allowed. “Yes, you do... at the Rotary dinner. You were requested after Bainbridge so get your tux out, get it pressed and show up for dinner with a speech.”
I look over at Daisy; she’s too far away for me truly see what she’s doing, but I feel her eyes on me. “Can I bring a date?”
“As long as she’s not a hooker.” He slaps me on the arm and laughs as he walks toward the dugout.
Well shit, this is great. I had plans to do something with Daisy and can only hope she’ll agree to go with me. If not, I’ll have to meet her after, if she’d even feel like going out later. My good mood is now soured by a baseball commitment. I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s how things go around here. Even our off days are baseball days. And organizations plan events around our calendar so we can attend. They use our names and the fact that we’re appearing as a way to sell tickets. We could essentially send one of the guys down the totem pole of the forty-man roster, but people aren’t paying to meet him. They pay to meet players like me.
I step up to the plate and wait. Each swing is powerful and balls are flying out of the park, much to the fans pleasure. I usually hit like shit when I’m angry. Maybe this is a sign that I’m not pissed off, but looking forward to a night with Daisy – who, mind you, would have to be dressed up. The thought of Daisy in a dress sends me into overdrive.
If I can continue to think about her in a dress, and maybe with that dressed hiked up over her hips as she lies on my bed after the party, I may bat for the cycle tonight... or hit three homeruns. That would be something considering I’ve yet to do that in my major league career.
