Graham
“Do you have to leave tomorrow?” Ben sits straight up in his bed, crosses his arms over his chest, and pouts.
“Just like your mom, thinking you can give me that look, and I’ll crumble at your feet.” I ruffle his hair. He could, though, make me stay with a single look.
I’d give anything to be able to spend the rest of my life simply watching Ben grow up to become a man, with Kennedy by my side. That isn’t my reality, though. I have a dream, and this dream will create a future for the three of us and any others we choose to join this wild ride.
“I’ll only be gone for eleven days. Mom and I already have plans to have you visit during away games when you can. Our time apart will be as minimum as possible. I promise.” I don’t want to disappoint him or have him feeling abandoned. I can’t handle knowing he’s missing me.
“It’s not the same. You won’t be here to read to me at night.” Ben’s chest quivers as he tries to calm himself. Shit, buddy, don’t do this to me. I leave my hand on his heart, hoping it’s enough to bring him some relief. With even breaths, he forces a brave smile.
“We’ve been preparing for this, buddy, right?” I rest my forehead against his and look deep into his eyes, needing a little bit of reassurance I’m not fucking up this parenting stuff. “I’m going to need you to be strong and take care of Mom, okay? Because as much as you’ll miss me, you know you’ll have her.”
“You ready to go?” Kennedy peeks into the room, blowing a kiss to Ben. I’m no longer her first priority, and I’m more than happy to delegate my position to our son.
“Mom,” Ben calls.
“Yeah, sweetie?” She enters his room. The lines around her eyes soften, and she rests on the edge of the mattress. I love how soft she is with him.
Loose curls hang low over her shoulders. Unlike most nights, a light sheen of makeup covers her face, not too much, but enough I notice. She’s fucking gorgeous.
“When Dad’s gone, I’m going to be the man of the house,” he states, earning a fist bump behind her back.
“I heard that, Little Man,” Rico says, passing in the hall. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The three of us laugh. With my mom and Rico here, I’ll rest a little easier even if tonight’s my last night with her in bed beside me for a while.
“You can start your duties by taking out the garbage,” Kennedy jokes, kissing Ben’s forehead. “Nana is going to be here tonight. We shouldn’t be out too late, and you can stay up and watch a movie if you want.”
“Jaws?” Ben’s eyebrows perk up with excitement. That’s my boy. He has a love for scary movies, unlike his mom who sticks to the romantic comedies.
“No, not Jaws.” Kennedy pokes me in the stomach when I laugh. I grab the remote and get Netflix running. “Listen to your mom. Nothing inappropriate, you hear me?”
“Have fun,” Ben says, shuffling through the menu of shows and movies.
Maybe it isn’t the best idea for us to go out tonight. Does he need us here?
As we leave his door an inch or two open, happy laughter filters through the house. All of our friends congregate in the living room.
Shot glasses full of clear liquid are handed to Kennedy and me. A buzz circulates the room as we all raise our glasses high.
“To dreams coming true,” Mark cheers.
I lock eyes with Kennedy, halting as our glasses touch. Her expression melts, and she tilts her head like she always does when she’s happy. She’s so damn proud of me, it’s almost unbearable.
“To dreams coming true,” she whispers, pulling her glass back and downing the shot.
“Okay, fuckers!” Rico bellows. “There’s something waiting for us outside.”
“What did you do?” Kennedy throws her arm over his shoulder and pulls him into a makeshift headlock.
“Don’t let him take the credit. We pitched in, even though we should make you two pay for this. Only one of us is a Major League Baseball player now,” Amanda says, opening the front door and encouraging our exit.
We step onto the front lawn and pause in a single row. I choke on my laughter, pinching my eyes shut and opening them again to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.
“What exactly is that?” Kennedy asks, stepping forward to get a better look. Her head tilts from side to side. I don’t know if she thinks it will change what she’s looking at, but she looks damn cute trying to figure it out.
“Rico,” Amanda calls in the stern mom voice she reserves specifically for him.
“Yes, honey?” If she can’t hear the sarcasm in his voice, she’s deaf.
Amanda pinches his ear and yanks him forward. She points at the monstrosity and releases him with a jerk of her wrist. “What the hell is that?”
The rest of us laugh, because how can we not.
“Amanda, it’s not a big deal,” Rico exclaims. She jolts back when he reaches for her.
“We can totally make this work.” Bea’s sweet voice breaks through the clear tension. We all take Bea’s sweetness for granted. Some would call her a push over, but it’s her nature.
When Bea steps towards it, Mark snaps a photo on his phone, earning a cutting glance from his lady.
“Bea, Baby, come on. Like I wasn’t going to get a picture of you in front of that thing.” Mark chuckles, pulling her back into his chest.
“It’s not that bad,” Rico attempts to explain.
Amanda bulldozes past him, and the accordion door on the bus opens. A middle-aged man with long white hair steps out. The transportation company’s logo is written across the front of his tie-dyed t-shirt.
“Hello!” He waves. “I’m Brad, and my guess, based on your expressions, is this wasn’t exactly what you were expecting to ride around in tonight.” He gestures behind him. “The penis on the top is a bit much, isn’t it?”
“No, Brad, I’ve waited my entire life to ride around in a purple short bus with a giant penis on the top.” Kennedy hugs my bicep, burying her face in my shirt. After a quick introduction, we step onboard. When I poke my head out of one of the windows, everyone else follows suit.
“So, we’re doing this, then?” Dan yells. He digs his heels into the ground, and Violet tugs on him until he relents. He roams the party bus, taking in his surroundings. “You’ve got to be shitting me, right?”
“It’s a lot of cock. I mean, even for me, it seems a bit excessive.” Amanda picks up a purple penis straw, licks it, and tosses it at Dan. Rico drops a penis tiara on her head and sits down in the back of the bus.
“Sir, do people actually rent this bus or...?” Dan’s confusion has us all in stitches.
“Best seller,” Brad announces as he drives down our street. The neighbors are probably having a heyday with this one. No one would hold it against them for snapping a few photos as we pass.
“You ladies are a bunch of pervs.” Dan slinks down in one of the bench seats lining the walls.
“Oh, Dan, you were a baseball player. There’s more dick than this in the locker rooms,” Bea pokes him.
Out of any of us, Bea is the last one I expect to roast on him.
At her jab, all of us fall silent and turn to where she sits cuddled up to Mark.
“What?” Her shrill rattles the windows. “I think I’ve been in this group long enough to give you shit.”
Mark kisses the side of her head. Even in the dim light, her blush is evident. They’ve been a thing since they spotted each other at The Knox, and none of us ever expected Bea to sweep Mark off his feet. At the time, I’d wondered if he’d ever recover from Kennedy. We never speak about it, for more than a hundred reasons I can give right now. There has never been any doubt or confusion over his feelings for my girl. He loved her when I couldn’t, and in some sick way, I’m grateful for him being there when I wasn’t man enough. I never once had to worry about her safety when I couldn’t be the one protecting her.
“Crank up the stereo,” Rico yells to Brad.
“You’re in control.” Brad points to the console at the front.
Rico plugs in his phone, blasts the speakers, and the bass bumps out and into his limbs. He starts to dance up and down the middle of the bus, gyrating his hips like he’s fucking the air.
“Listen assholes, I know you’re like ninety-five with your adorable kid.” Rico points to Kennedy and me, and then to Violet and Dan. “And don’t get me started with the two of you planning what I’m sure will be a beautiful wedding. But tonight, none of that matters, because we’re here to get fucked up. Do you hear me? You aren’t moms and dads tonight. You aren’t...” His monologue stalls, and then he smiles. “None of you have an excuse not to celebrate the hell out of our boy here, so everyone needs to promise to go drink for drink tonight.”
“You’re kidding, right? I’ll die,” Bea intervenes. She looks down at her small frame, and she comes up with her eyebrows pinched together with honest to god worry. She’s right though. Her skinny ass would die.
“Okay, what I think Rico is saying ineffectively”— Amanda stands and pushes on his chest until he sits— “is Graham deserves to be celebrated. We’re so damn proud of you and can’t wait to see where life leads you.” Amanda does her best to hold back the tears when she catches my wife’s eyes. You’d never guess there was a time when they weren’t on the same line. Amanda lifts her beer bottle, and they clink them together. “And to Kennedy for putting up with Graham’s bullshit.”
“We’ve been friends a really long time, so I’m going to let that one slide.” I stand and kiss her on the cheek.
“You guys, they’re both right, though. Life is hectic, and it isn’t every day we’re in the same place, so let’s fuck this night up and live like we used to,” I say.
“Recklessly, then? Okay.” Dan pulls the bottle of tequila from the cooler.
Old habits die hard. With the music blaring and heavily poured drinks, a loyal group of friends ride around town in a purple, penis bus. We drink. We dance. We laugh.
We stop at a handful of bars, only staying long enough for a drink or two. Shuffling all of us in and out of the bus is starting to be a task with the liquor coursing through our veins.
“Next stop is our last,” Rico calls out. “Do your worst, kids.” He holds up a shot glass and slams the liquid down.
*****
“So, please explain what the actual fuck is going on between you and Amanda.” Mark hands out the beers he got from the bar, sliding one across the table to Rico.
“Not a damn thing.” Rico grabs the bottle right before it flies off the table. “And are we really going to be those guys who sit at the bar and talk about our feelings?”
Mark, Dan, and I glance around the table and shrug.
“It’s easy for the three of you. You have Kennedy, the girl of your god damn dreams, Graham. She looks at you like you’re absolutely everything.” Rico spins to address Dan, pointing the neck of his beer at him. “And you have the spitfire of all spitfires who keeps you on your toes.” Lastly, he draws Mark’s attention across the table. “And then there’s Bea, the sweetest thing since Willy Wonka. So, what do you want to talk about? About how damn unlucky I am, or how lucky you three are?”
Mark grins wildly, and I know he’s about to piss Rico off with some bullshit response. “Jesus, combine them all together, and we could conquer the world,” Mark says with raised eyebrows.
“I get it, you’re in a place of love and happiness. I’m not, though.” His closed fist hits the table, and he storms off.
“What’s his deal?” Dan asks, looking to where Rico disappeared into the crowd.
“I was just kidding.” Mark rounds the table and takes a seat.
“And just to make myself clear”—Rico reappears out of nowhere—“I’m not the one who fucked up. The girl is messed up in the fucking head. She wouldn’t know a good guy if he crawled up her ass and swiveled his hand around,” he says, franticly pointing around the table. “You guys know. You’ve dealt with her.”
“I never fucked Amanda,” Dan clarifies.
“Not from lack of trying, buddy,” I remind him. “Freshman year. Summer vacation.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Dan searches the bar to see if Violet is within hearing distance. He sighs in relief when he sees the girls twirling on the dance floor. “I didn’t try to hook up with her back then.”
“Didn’t try to hook up with who?” Amanda interrupts, surprising all of us.
“Who else? The girl who’s hooked up with a majority of the people here,” Rico spews.
Oh shit. Shots fired.
At his insult, I bow my head, afraid of the hurt in Amanda’s eyes. It will be there, loud and clear. One thing about Amanda people don’t know is how sensitive she is. She puts on a tough girl act and pulls it off without a single bat of her eyelashes.
“You’re a fucking asshole, Rico.” Amanda storms off. Her exit carves a warpath into the bar’s floor.
Kennedy wanders up beside me and points at Amanda. I shrug and glare across the table at the culprit.
“Dammit, boy, get your ass off that stool and fix whatever it is you did, or I swear, I’ll make you ride that cock on top of the bus all the way home.” At Kennedy’s outburst, I wrap my arm around her waist. Damn, my wife is sexy when she’s amped up.
“Maybe that’s the problem. Girls just aren’t your thing.” Mark pokes Rico. If he keeps it up, Rico’s going to poke him back, and it’s not going to be with words.
“Trust me, girls are my thing. Just not that girl.” He slips from the stool and heads towards the back of the bar, hopefully to fix his mistakes.
“Ten to one says they fuck in the bathroom.” Violet places a tray of shots in the middle of the table. “Should we wait for them?” Without skipping a beat, she downs a shot. “No? Okay, then.”
“Why is it taking so long for them to get their shit together?” Bea innocently asks.
“That would be Will’s fault,” Kennedy says. “He’s my brother, but he’s still an asshole. He uses Amanda like she’s his favorite play toy.”
“And here we thought he was just as sweet as our Kennedy.” Violet glides a finger through a chunk of Kennedy’s hair.
“Should one of us go check on them?” Mark asks.
No one moves. The two of them need to figure it out on their own. We can’t push them in a direction they aren’t willing to go, even when we know it’s what’s best for them.
The bartender rings a loud bell for last call. Kennedy’s yawn follows the sound.
“How about I get my wife home, huh?” She tilts her head just right, and my mouth has no choice but to find the sweet spot behind her ear. “Fuck you senseless until morning.”
“Pay the tabs. We’ll meet you guys on the bus.” Kennedy stands, unzipping her purse and tossing her credit card at Violet.
Once we’re on the bus, Kennedy yanks the curtain down that blocks the driver from the passengers.
“What was it you were saying about fucking me?” Kennedy takes a step towards me, painfully slow and sexy as hell. Her dark jeans hug her ass just right, and her tank top sways with her perfect curves. One leg swings over to straddle my lap.
“I think I said senseless.” My touch glides up her thighs to the fabric of her shirt. My fingers dig into her skin, possessing every inch of her. Our lips connect, and she grinds her hips. My dick strains to find her center. He’s just as desperate as I am to have her wrapped around me.
“Tomorrow you leave,” she says between our locked lips.
I slide my mouth away from hers, kissing her cheek and down her neck until I land between her perky breasts. She needs a good distraction, and I have just the thing. I thrust my hips forward, and she moans. That’s right.
“Forget about the difficult shit, Kennedy, and just be here with me.”
“And with us,” Dan announces their arrival. One by one, our friends cockblock me, stepping onto the bus with amused grins on their faces.
Kennedy slinks off my lap, laughing with our friends, and I adjust myself, not finding any humor in the situation.
“Where’s Amanda?” Kennedy asks. She glares at Rico who’s in the middle of a pity party. “Rick?”
“Not with the Rick shit again, Ken,” Rico grumbles. Kennedy is the only person allowed to call him Rick. It freaks me the fuck out whenever she does.
At the far end of the bus away from everyone, Rico crosses his arms over his chest in a silent tantrum. He focuses on the window, ignoring Kennedy’s question. He should know better by now. She won’t let him slide by without an interrogation.
“What did you do?” Violet echoes Kennedy’s fears. She stands, but Dan grabs her to calm her down. Good luck with that. “You were meant to apologize. Not piss her off by storming after her.”
“Fuck you, guys, okay?” He growls. “Amanda, she’s...” With a shake of his head, he dismisses his thought.
“No, finish the damn sentence. Act like a grown man and say it.” Kennedy, the emotional terrorist, scoots down the bench until she’s plastered to his side.
“I love her. I’m in love with the girl, and she doesn’t even care to notice,” Rico says.
If a pin dropped, everyone would have heard it.
“No, she sees it.” Amanda steps onto the bus. “She just doesn’t give a fuck.” She sits down beside me. The energy is sucked from the air.
“So much for a fun night, right?” I whisper to Amanda, patting her trembling hand. Her head falls onto my shoulder.
“He doesn’t love me. He just thinks he does.” She peeks over her shoulder and shrugs. “I don’t know how you guys did it. How you held on and fought so damn hard to get here. Where does that energy come from?”
Where does our energy come from?
“It takes zero energy to fight for someone you love and respect. It takes two people completely devoted to each other. It means not taking no for an acceptable answer when the other person has the look of defeat on their face. That’s when you believe enough for the both of you,” I whisper.
“I don’t know.” Amanda’s cry is trapped in her throat.
“I can’t fix this for you. Dammit, I wish I could. Hell, I wish someone could’ve for Kennedy and me. But Amanda, if you can’t imagine your life without Rico, then don’t you think you should allow him to fight for you and stop the run around?”
“It’s more complicated than just him and me.” She sits up and longingly looks at Rico. When her broken eyes burn into mine, I feel sorry for her.
“You’ll find a way. There’s always a way.” I stand as we pull up in front of the house. “As fun as this has been, and it has been fun, I have zero intentions of coming out of my room tonight. You can stay here, but I swear, if you wake up our son, or give us any reason to have to intervene on anything, I’ll kick your asses. That goes for you, too, Bea. Just because you’re sweet doesn’t mean shit to me, or my desperate need to bury myself in my wife.”
“Graham!” Kennedy shrieks.
“Baby, I’m going to be gone for eleven long days. I’m fucking you until the morning light comes up.”
“Eww!” the bus echoes their disapproval. Like I’ve ever given a shit what they or anyone else think.
I throw Kennedy over my shoulder and slide her into a fireman’s hold. With a smack on her ass, I step down, taking care she doesn’t bump her head.
“Graham Black, put my ass down right now,” she yells.
“You’re going to wake up our neighbors, if you yell any louder.”
“I thought the whole point of your carrying me like a barbarian was to end this night with my screams.” She slaps my ass, and I quicken my pace, eager to fulfill my promise.
Quietly, I unlock the front door and shut it behind us. The house is silent. A sliver of light comes from the kitchen. Mom must have left the stove light on. I look around the space, admiring the home Kennedy has built for us. Before she found out about me living in Connecticut, the space was littered with baseball players and their conquests for the night. Picture frames full of our memories of us laughing has replaced empty beer bottles. The one of Ben at his first baseball game stands out the most. I smile to myself, and Kennedy wiggles, reminding me she’s on my shoulder.
“I think it’s safe to put me down now,” she whispers, a short laugh escaping as she flails around.
“Not gonna happen, pretty girl.” I take the steps two at a time. Kennedy somehow traps her yelps. With a kick to close our bedroom door, I throw her on the bed and land on top of her.
“You’re beautiful.” I tuck her hair behind her ear, soaking in the way her eyebrows perk up when I compliment her, like she doesn’t believe what I’m saying.
“And you’re drunk.” She widens her thighs, and I slink closer to where I always want to be.
“Not at all.” I kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re sexy as hell, especially in these jeans.”
I run my palm up and down her thighs, rising until I’m resting on my knees. Kennedy stretches, her legs wrapped around me, and slinks her hands under my shirt, urging it over my head. A chill runs through me when her moist lips connect with my ribcage. She demands attention from each one, painfully slow and frustratingly hot. Her lips have the power to break me into a million pieces.
Between us, she unhooks the top button on my jeans, popping it open. With a slow assault, my zipper slips down. Her heels dig into the fabric, and I’m sprung free. I collapse forward, kissing her like I always promise I will, like it’s our last.
“I need you.” Her warm breath on my ear brings me close to the brink, desperate to have her skin against mine.
“I know, Baby.” I sit back and remove every piece of clothing covering her perfect body. “Even better.” Her skin soft like cream, I glide my hands up from her feet to her thighs. She rests forward, connecting our lips once again, eager as if she can’t handle another second without our lips touching.
“I could kiss you forever,” she whispers her secret to my lips. She cups my cheek with a gentleness I’m not expecting.
Kennedy doesn’t need to say one single word about the heartache of our upcoming separation. The weight of each other’s absence is relayed through touch. Her hand grazes every inch of my body, not neglecting a single part, burning it into her memory. One thing I’ve always known about Kennedy is she loves hard as hell.
I push inside her, filling her with everything I have. She moans from the initial touch, but I stop my movement when I reach the hilt.
“What are you doing?” Kennedy bucks her hips.
“Let’s have a baby,” I blurt and begin to uncontrollably laugh.
She stalls her movement on my shoulders, and with a cute tilt of her head, she joins me in my delirium. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Just think about it, okay?” I smile softly, hoping to ease her mind. “I can imagine you with a round tummy and swollen ankles.”
“You’re really cranking up the heat tonight, Black.”
“Pregnant and barefoot will be a sexy as hell look on you.”
“We’ll just have to wait and see.” Kennedy shrugs. “With you being away,”— At those words, I roll off her— “it’s going to be kind of hard for me to get pregnant. It sort of takes two of us.”
“Oh, don’t do that to me. You know I don’t want to go.” I rest my hands behind my head. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be abandoning Kennedy right now. We’re just getting a routine down with Ben, and suddenly, she’s left to do it on her own. I can’t help but wonder if I’m laying too much of my dreams on her shoulders.
Kennedy props herself up and draws an invisible design on my chest. “No, what I do know is you’re dying to go because this is your dream.”
“You’re my dream.” That’s right, lay it on thick. Everything is true, but I know Kennedy. She can’t resist giving in to me if I’m sweet as an apple pie to her.
“No, Black, I’m the dream within the dream, and I’ve known that since we were in high school. Baseball is your first love. You’re alive when you are on that field. Not to mention you look fucking hot as hell in those pants.” She smirks. “I’m not letting you give it up so you can sit around here trying to impregnate me.”
I shake my head, reminding myself to shelf the idea of a baby. What she doesn’t know is I have every intention of leaving it close to the front as a constant reminder. “Fine, you going to let me fuck my wife now, or are you going to keep denying my wants?”
You’re playing with fire, Graham.
“Nobody is denying you anything.” Kennedy lets out an infectious giggle when I wrap an arm around her back and hoist her on top of me. “Now, be honest, you only said something about having a baby because you’re looking to pull the goalie.” In a second flat, she positions herself above me, sliding down onto my hard cock. She fills herself and moans, satisfied with the control she has.
Some primal part in the back of my mind gets off on getting off inside of her. We pull out and pray like it’s our damn religion. After we got married and finished our last box of condoms, we just stopped writing them on the grocery list.
“Is this what you want?” Kennedy lifts her ass, sliding up and down my hard length. She rides me until what seems like morning, the two of us lost in each other. The perfume on her neck when she dips her head, and I tuck myself in the crook of soft skin, intoxicates my senses.
*****
“Try shifting back on your foot a bit,” one of the pitching coaches instructs. He tosses a ball from beside me, and I catch it.
I set up, and taking his advice, watch my back foot. I throw out a handful of pitches, each one crossing the plate with a liquid smoothness.
“Can you tell the difference?” he asks, holding up his hand to let Joe know I’m done. “Small adjustments can take a good pitcher and make him a legendary one. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sold on you being moved up, but you’re proving me wrong with every pitch you throw, kid. Keep it up.”
With a pat on my back, he walks off. I stay on the mound, circling around to take in the full spectrum of the stadium. The way the grass barely moves in the breeze. The smell of chalked lines and fertilizer. The rows and rows of unfilled seats. Come this afternoon, this place will be packed. Baseball fans will filter in, spend their hard-earned money, and watch, to some, a simple game of baseball.
To me, it will be years of hard work. Countless hours in the backyard and on the field will be worth it once I step out onto the field for the first time. A rookie in Major League Baseball. A young man fulfilling a dream he’s been pushing for since he was eight-years-old.
“Still feels like it’s unreal, doesn’t it?” Joe steps onto the mound, shoving a baseball into my glove. We walk back to the dugout as the rest of the team finishes up. “Your wife and kid going to be here tonight?”
“Like I’d be able to keep them away,” I say, tossing my glove onto the bench. “We’ll have to introduce our wives tonight.”
Joe is one of the few family men on the roster. He doesn’t shy away from letting it be known. When the rest of the team is bullshitting about their concubines, he and I stay back. Even for the most honorable of men, it’s easy to get caught up in all the fuckery that happens in the grand world of sports.
“For sure, man.” His hand rests on my shoulder. “Soak it up tonight. You get one debut in the Majors. You earned this shit, and to be a rookie trusted to pitch his first game, it’s a big fucking deal. Own that shit and help us get that W tonight.”
“That’s always the plan,” I call as he rounds the corner and disappears.
In front of my locker, I rest my forearms on my thighs. A picture of Ben and Kennedy reminds me why I’m here. That girl has been my motivation since the second she looked at me like I was worthy of big things. The excitement and electricity running through my body right now is palpable. I can’t wait to see my family in the stands. Being away from them has been more difficult than I ever imagined.
I stay quiet in the locker room. Even with the confidence I have in myself, I don’t belong yet. I’m a rookie with a lot to prove. This is what it’s meant to be like. The unmistakable ache in our stomach. The overwhelming sense I’ll step on someone’s toes if I pitch the game of my lifetime.
At the end of the day, we are a team, but we all want to be the best. Being in this locker room with some of the best in the league won’t change a damn thing I do. I’ll keep my head down and my mouth shut. My skills on the field roar loud enough for me.
Baseball is the one thing I’ve earned. Every skinned calf from practicing sliding. Every achy shoulder from overpitching myself is why I’m here. I’ve worked my ass off, and to witness those lights above the stadium, casting the fans in its glow, I can rest easy knowing I’ve accomplished what I set out for. Every bruise brought on from my father. Every time my mother turned her back on me to please her husband. That is what pushed me. I’ll never be thankful to that man, but his neglect brought out my strength.
The screen on my phone lights up. It’s a photo of Kennedy and Ben, sitting in the stands. I shake my head, remembering the argument we had earlier this week. She had access to a box but refused to use it.
“I’m not sitting in a box all the way up there, and not be down near the field. What kind of girl do I look like? I don’t need air conditioning. I need to witness your ass in those pants up close,” she said.
I didn’t fight her. It’s Kennedy. Fighting with her wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I made sure she had the best seats I could find for her and Ben. He’s more excited than I am, judging by the grin on his face in the photo. He has eye black on the apples of his cheeks and Joe’s number on his shirt, which I’m sure Joe will fucking eat right up when he sees it.
Kennedy: Never forget your talent is effortless, and when you stand on the mound, know Ben and I are in the stands cheering on every move you make. We love you.
I grin like a damn lunatic and set my phone down on my shelf.
“What’s got you smiling like a well-fucked hooker, Black?” Williams, the backup catcher to Joe, saddles up beside me. His locker is next to mine, and he pulls his hat out, stretching the bill until it’s just how he wants it. We’ve gotten to know each other over the last few days. He’s good people, always so damn happy and chipper. He’s also kind of annoying like a droopy-eared puppy dog. I can’t help but want to mess with him.
“Where does your wife sit?” I ask.
“Oh, he’s not the guy to ask. His wife is prissy,” Reynolds, our starting pitcher, says. “No offense, man.” He apologizes to Williams. “She’s best friends with my wife, and my wife can’t stand anything above eighty degrees. Her ass is in the box by July, and she won’t leave until the season is over.”
“Kennedy refused to sit in the box.” I grab my phone and glance at the photo once more before tucking it away until after the game.
“Sounds like you got a good one then.” Williams winks. He shuffles back over to his own locker.
“His wife is a gold digger. You didn’t hear it from me,” Reynolds says, fastening his belt around his waist. “It happens a lot in our business. The difference is between the men who know it, and the ones who haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Wise words.” I chuckle to myself and finish dressing.
“Hopefully you have an ironclad pre-nup.” He slaps my back.
“No need for one.”
“That’s what the poor man said, too.” He winks, busting my balls.
Walking into the dugout with my new team is like a sick dream about to be ripped away from me. As if my life is too good to be true. The smell of popcorn, the bustle of the crowd, and the venders shouting out to sell hotdogs is music to my ears.
“You ready for this?” The coach pats my shoulder. He hadn’t thought I was ready when we were on the road and I was okay with that, but now, my body is buzzing to touch the grass.
I poke my head out of the dugout to a full stadium. The ball in my hand seems foreign, the laces thick under my touch. Jesus! I rub the sweat from my forehead, adjusting my hat until I’m comfortable.
“I’m as ready as I’ve ever been,” I say.
The reality is I shouldn’t be here. Their closer got hurt and needs to have Tommy John surgery to reconstruct the torn ligament in his arm. Overpitching is a thing. The only thing I can thank my dad for is he never allowed me to push the boundaries, knowing what it could do to my arm over the years. If I could have this moment in any other way, I would give my teammate his strength back. It’s the name of the game though. We play it, so we can live it. This is me living it, and I’ll never apologize. Just as our closer wouldn’t ask me to. We’re a team, and some of us are dealt a shitty hand, but we’d never want it to hold another player back.
The team enters the field to a loud thunderous applause. I’ve heard of the rush from standing on the green lawn at a Major League game. Nothing compares to the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Searching the stands, I stop on Kennedy and Ben clapping and cheering in the front row along the first baseline. She’s wearing a sexy as hell baseball jersey and a ball cap, her long hair in a side braid. Ben notices me, and a grin spreads across his face. My mom pushes past those in front of them to see me on the mound. Her hand covers her heart with a subtle nod.
“We made it,” I mouth to Kennedy, and then twist towards home plate to throw out a few practice pitches.
We fucking made it.