As usual, when we emerge from the clubhouse, there is a large crowd of friends, family and fans who have waited around to see the players. Security does their best to keep any overeager fans from getting to us, but it seems there are always one or two of them, mostly women, who end up breaking through the crowd to get to the target of their obsession.
I used to think it was funny and flattering. But I’ve since found out some of those women are downright scary. How could someone I don’t even know possibly think I’d just drop everything and go out with them? Sleep with them? Marry them? They can be delusional. So I’ve learned to be approachable without being too nice. Because too nice can get you into trouble. Too nice can be misconstrued by irrational fans.
Sawyer, Brady and I all walk out together. As we always do, we stop to sign autographs, pose for pictures, and shake hands.
“I love you, Caden!” a woman screams from behind the crowd.
I point in the direction the voice came from. “Back at ya!” I shout, making the ASL sign for ‘I love you’ with my right hand.
As more and more players come out of the clubhouse and leave, the crowd thins. I say goodbye to Sawyer and Brady knowing I’ll see them on the plane tomorrow when we head down south to Tampa.
Suddenly, I find myself being thrown back into the wall as a woman hurls herself at me. I have no choice but to catch her so she doesn’t hurt me, or herself.
“Sorry,” Drew says as he runs over and peels the fan off me. “I didn’t mean to let her get past, Mr. Kessler.”
“But he loves me!” the woman screams as Drew pulls her away. “You saw it. Everyone saw it. He said he loves me.”
Shit. Really?
I hang my head, realizing once again how literally these deranged fans take things. I intentionally never say ‘I love you’ back, because I refuse to minimize the meaning of those three words the way some fans do. I will only say those words to one person—if at all.
I scan the crowd until I find familiar faces. Safe faces. And I smile when I find them.
Lexi and Murphy are leaning up against the far wall, waiting patiently for me to finish up. I walk away from the crowd earlier than I usually do, still stunned by the overzealous fan. When I make my way to the girls, I feel my smile grow larger when I see Murphy wearing the shirt I had sent to her. Not only that, she’s still carrying the large foam finger.
I give my sister a kiss on the cheek and then I do the same to Murphy. Then I hear a few screams behind me, from women asking me to kiss them, too.
“Are you okay?” Murphy asks.
I look back to where Drew was dragging that woman away. “I’m fine.”
“She jumped on you, Caden,” she says, concern etched into her face.
Lexi laughs. “Good thing my little brother is a top-notch catcher.”
Murphy doesn’t find her joke funny. “Does that happen a lot?”
I shrug.
“Oh, my gosh, really? You should have a bodyguard or something.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.”
When I’m looking at Murphy, it dawns on me that she’s had her hairline stitches removed and that she looks great. But then I realize her cheeks are pink. Pink from the sun. I narrow my eyes at her. “Murph, you look sunburned. How in the hell did that happen? Weren’t you in the suite?”
“It’s a nice day,” she says. “Lexi and I walked here.”
I take the hat off my head and fit it onto hers. “You have to protect your face from the sun. It’ll help reduce the scarring.”
“Who’s the lucky girl?” someone behind me shouts.
“Are you his girlfriend?” shouts another.
“Caden, can I have a hat?” yet another asks.
Girls are freaking out over me giving Murphy my hat. What the hell is the big deal? It’s a hat, not an engagement ring.
I ignore the comments, but I can tell Murphy is bothered by them. However, she doesn’t acknowledge any of the incessant questions. “It’s going to be dark soon,” she says, going to remove the hat. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”
I stop the movement of her hand. “Keep it. Wear it. Doctor’s orders.”
“I wouldn’t argue with my brother if I were you,” Lexi says. “Believe me, it won’t end well. He’s as stubborn as a mule. Plus, I’m pretty sure Kyle would tell you the same thing. You need to protect your face from the sun while it heals.”
I laugh when Murphy rolls her eyes and fake pouts.
“Whatever, Doc,” she says.
“Doc?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Just trying out nicknames.”
“Keep trying, Old Man Murphy.”
Lexi laughs at our exchange. “Oh my gosh! I get it now. The box. Old Man Murphy.” She smacks me playfully on the arm. “You are terrible. I thought maybe Melanie had been hitting the booze.” She gestures to Murphy. “And I’ve never seen so many shades of red on a face before.”
She asks Murphy, “You need a nickname for him? I have a few from our childhood. Rat, Bug, Tool, Squirt, Homer, take your pick.”
I roll my eyes at my big sister as the girls share a giggle.
“Oh, how could I have forgotten?” Murphy says. “Congratulations on your home run.”
“Thanks. I’m just glad it didn’t hit anyone this time.”
“Me, too. And the guy who caught it gave it to a kid,” she says, smiling.
“I know. Sawyer told me.”
“Did you sign it for him?” Lexi asks.
“Yeah. Hey, speaking of my home run,” I say to Murphy. “I think you need to come to all my games. You seem to be a good luck charm. And you have to wear that shirt and the finger.”
She looks down at her shirt and then at the finger she must have forgotten she was ‘wearing.’
Lexi leans over to her and explains, “Baseball is a superstitious sport. When something goes well, you have to do the same thing in hopes that it will be repeated. That was number twenty-seven, right, Caden?”
“Lucky twenty-seven,” I say, sharing a nostalgic smile with Lexi. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you girls a drink and then I’ll get you home.”
As we make our way out of the stadium, I notice a guy lurking at the entrance. He looks familiar. He’s staring right at me. At us.
Although I know he’s probably just a fan wanting an autograph, I go into protective mode since I’m with Lex and Murphy. I keep looking over at him to see if he’s going to follow us. I even pull out my phone, ready to summon Drew or his security team in case we need assistance.
I can’t shake the feeling that I know him from somewhere.
“How about Klingmans?” Lexi asks. “They make good margaritas there.”
Oh, shit. I know why he looks familiar. Klingmans was the restaurant Sawyer, Rob and I went to on our triple date. And the guy standing over by the entrance, staring at me, is the same guy who was sitting at the bar there last night—staring at me.
Great. Looks like I have another goddamn stalker. I send a quick text to Drew, hoping he can scare the guy into backing off. But when I look up from my phone, he’s gone.
So much for unwinding after the double-header. I ruin my time with the girls because I spend the next few hours looking over my shoulder.