Boston is a beautiful city. I love it here. I have wonderful memories of taking the train here with Mom and Dad when I was younger. So when Murphy asked me if I wanted to come for the weekend, I could hardly refuse. The Nighthawks are ending a three-day series with the Red Sox today and she thought we could all have a much-needed night out after the game.
And I must say the thought of spending an entire night with Brady and not having to worry about Stryker walking in, makes me oh so happy.
Stryker is staying with Lexi for the night. He loves her two girls, Beth, and her older sister, Ellie, who is deaf. And although my son just turned four, he’s already picking up some basic sign language just by being around them. I’ve learned a few words myself so I can communicate with Ellie whenever I see her.
Murphy and I check in to the hotel, leaving our bags in the guys’ rooms, and then we head over to the stadium. “Can you please stop at a market or convenience store along the way?” I ask the cab driver.
“Picking up supplies?” Murphy asks, laughing.
She knows the drill. Every time I go to a game, I come prepared with signs and a joke. The good news is, I haven’t had to use them every time. But it’s kind of become our thing. And sometimes I think Brady gets upset if I don’t have one for him when he’s pitching well.
Stryker helps me with the jokes. And just like a four-year-old, most of them are centered around human waste or bodily noises. I think he and Helen must Google knock-knock jokes when I’m at work, because for as young as he is, he’s got some good ones.
“Nice one,” Murphy says, as she watches me make the signs. “You know, Caden and Brady are very different out there. Caden won’t ever look up at me, not after he finds me in the stands right before the game. But Brady is always looking at you.”
“Caden looks at you when he hits a home run,” I say. “And maybe Brady looking at me is not such a good thing. Maybe that’s what’s messing up his game.”
“I don’t think so,” she says. “He’s always looked up into the stands. He told me once that it gives him energy. While Caden might not like to think about the forty-thousand pairs of eyes watching him, for Brady, I think it drives him to succeed.”
“God, I hope he succeeds,” I say. “I can’t imagine how heartbroken he would be if he didn’t.”
“He will,” she says. “He is. His pitching is great. It’s his head that needs work. Caden tells me he’s an ace in practice. He says Brady pitches just like before, maybe better. But in the games, he sometimes freezes.”
“Do you think he’s afraid of getting hit by another ball?”
Murphy reaches up and touches the scar under her eye. “Could be. I was terrified for a long time after I was hit, even if there was a net between me and the field. I imagine it’s worse for him being down there in the direct line of fire knowing what kind of damage can be done. But he’ll get over it,” she says. “He’ll get over it because he has to.”
Our guys take the field and look over to find us. Murphy blows Caden a kiss. We both give a thumbs-up to them. And I might say a silent prayer.
After the first two innings, I fear I might need today’s sign. He’s frustrated. But at least when he gets up to bat, he gets a single and drives in a run. Maybe that will help his confidence.
Halfway through the third inning, however, when he walks another batter, I know it’s time. I wait for him to look up at me and then I hold up the sign.
KNOCK KNOCK
I think I see the corners of his mouth turn up in a repressed smile. “Who’s there?” he mouths.
Then he turns back to face his batter. This is the dance we do with the signs. He never gets the full joke at once. He likes to think about it; anticipate it. He says it helps him keep his head out of the game. It works. He strikes out the batter. And the third one fouls out to the right fielder.
In fact, I don’t need to give him the next part of the joke for three more innings. Maybe he could even go the whole game without it, but let’s face it, as juvenile as it is, I know he wants to see it.
A PILE-UP
I see him mouth the words, “A pile-up who?” Then he shakes his head and laughs. He doesn’t even need me to hold up the sign that reads: EWWWWWW! But I do anyway.
Murphy puts a hand on my arm. “You’re a godsend, I hope you know that.”
“They are just stupid kid jokes, Murphy.”
“I’m not talking about the jokes. Even as he’s working his way through his slump, he’s still happier than I’ve ever seen him. That’s all you, Rylee. I do hope you marry him one day.”
I look down and watch them run off the field. “Yeah, I hope so too.”
During the seventh-inning stretch, the ever-popular ‘Sweet Caroline’ song gets played and I see Caden peeking out of the dugout to mouth the words to Murphy. The song, even though it’s played only at Red Sox games, has a lot of personal meaning to them.
In the end, the Nighthawks squeeze out a narrow win.
“Come on,” Murphy says. “Let’s go meet the guys as they come out. We’ll be their groupies.”
The plan was to meet them back at the hotel before our night out, but how can I argue with her when she looks so excited about it. I shove my signs into a trashcan and we make our way to the visitors’ clubhouse.
There is a good crowd waiting where the guys will come out, probably because we’re not too far from New York and the fans can travel easily.
I’m eager to see Brady. I know he will be in a good mood tonight. I can’t wait to spend the entire night with him.
Murphy and I hang back, but some of the fans are getting close to the barricades they use to separate the crowd from the players. As I see Brady and a few others come out the door, a security guard grabs a woman’s arm when she tries to slip through.
“You have to stay behind these, Miss,” he says.
“But I’m Brady Taylor’s girlfriend,” she says.
Murphy and I both look at the girl and then at each other. “Shit,” I say. “We should have gone back to the hotel.”
She gives me a sympathetic look.
“I don’t care if you’re the Queen Mother,” the security guard says. “Everyone stays behind the line.”
“Brady!” the girl yells.
Brady’s eyes snap over to her. He sighs and shakes his head. He doesn’t know Murphy and I are here waiting so he goes over to the woman. “Shauna,” he says, acknowledging her.
She tries to throw her arms around him, but he pushes her off and pulls her to the side.
I scoot closer and camouflage myself behind someone else so I can try to hear what they are saying.
“What are you doing, Shauna? I told you on Thursday I can’t see you anymore.”
Murphy nudges my elbow. And then Caden spots us and comes over to greet us. Murphy puts her finger to her lips to shush him before he speaks. She wants to hear Brady’s conversation as much as I do.
“That’s nonsense,” Shauna says, putting her hand on his chest provocatively. “Come on, Brady. You know you can’t resist me.”
Brady looks around and spots Caden, then his eyes widen when he sees me standing just a few feet away. He looks like he’s not sure what he wants to do so I shake my head at him, letting him know not to acknowledge me.
He removes her hand from him. “It’s over Shauna.”
“It’s not, Brady. I know where you’re staying. I’ll just come there. You’ll change your mind.”
“If you come to my hotel, I’ll have security escort you out.”
Shauna laughs. “No, you won’t.”
“I will,” he says. “Please don’t push me. You knew the score. We had some fun and now we’re done. I have to go now.” He turns to the security guard. “Will you make sure nobody follows me, please?”
Shauna pouts, and then sure enough as he walks away in the other direction, the guard has to hold her back as she tries to go after him. “Let it go, Miss,” he says. “You don’t want to be that girl, do you? Don’t beg for it.”
“What the fuck do you know?” she bites at him.
“Come on,” Caden says, urging Murphy and me to follow him. “We’ll meet him at the hotel.” He pulls his phone out and texts Brady.
“Is it always like that?” I ask him. “Do they all act like she did?”
He shrugs. “Some of them do. He was stupid and reckless before you, Rylee. But don’t hold it against him. You know how he is now, but his past may follow him around for a while. He’s had to make good on more than one threat to have hotel security throw a girl out.”
My jaw drops. “Oh, my God, really?”
“Some people don’t take no for an answer,” he says. “Even though they all knew what they were getting into, you have to know some of them thought they’d be able to get more out of him. Not all women are as classy as you are, Rylee.”
“Yeah, I’m real classy. Last fall, I was one of them.” I look back at the woman as we walk away. “That could have been me.”
“That would never have been you,” Murphy says. “Brady came crawling back to you, not the other way around. He loves you. That’s a miracle, don’t you know that?”
I nod. “I know. I just wish he could love Stryker.”
Murphy locks elbows with me. “He will. Give him time.”
When we get back to the hotel, Brady is already there signing autographs out front with a few other players. I look around and, luckily, Shauna isn’t anywhere to be seen. He smiles when he sees me, and he excuses himself to come over. “I’m sorry about what happened. I tried to let her down the first night. I didn’t want you to see that.”
“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about it and not let her ruin our night together.”
He takes my hand. “Do we really have to go out? Can’t we just hole up in our hotel room?”
“You’re going out,” Sawyer says, stepping up next to us. “You have to introduce Rylee to our place, man.”
“Your place?” I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s a bar some of us go to whenever we come to Boston. They have live music, a mechanical bull, pool tables, even a bowling alley.”
“A mechanical bull?” I ask warily, looking at Brady’s left arm.
He laughs. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, our contracts prevent us from doing anything that could cause us to get injured.”
“That didn’t keep Cole from riding it last year,” Sawyer says.
“Cole was a stupid son-of-a-bitch,” Brady says, laughing. “Got thrown off. Landed right on his pitching arm. He thought he sprained it. Hid it from the coaches for days while icing it every chance he got. He was lucky. And you can bet he’ll never do anything that idiotic again.”
“Pool sounds fun,” I say.
Brady gives me a cocky smile. “Oh, you play, do you?”
“I’ve played once or twice.”
I don’t tell him I was an ace back in college.
“Care to make a wager?” he asks, suggestively.
“And, my cue to leave. See you over there,” Sawyer says, slipping away.
“I don’t know, what did you have in mind?” I ask.
He thinks on it for a beat. Then he smiles big. “However many balls the loser leaves on the table is how many orgasms they owe the other person.”
I blush, looking around to make sure nobody heard. “I’m not sure that’s a penalty, Brady.”
He pulls me close. “See, this is why I love you. We always think alike.”
“Deal,” I say.
He grabs my hand and pulls me behind him. “Let’s go,” he announces to the group.
Twenty minutes later, we arrive at the massive club and are ushered into a VIP area where a private waitress stands at the ready to take care of our every need.
A few of the other guys on the team show up. Sawyer. Cole. Spencer. But Murphy and I are the only women. And you can believe we are getting dirty looks from half the females in the place.
“You’ll get used to it,” Murphy says. “Just ignore them. Don’t make eye contact and you’ll never have to know how much they hate you.”
“Why would they hate us?”
“We are living their fantasy, Rylee.”
I look around at the five uber-handsome players at our table. Four of whom don’t hold a candle to Brady in my opinion. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
For an hour, we drink, talk, and bowl. Brady hasn’t even mentioned playing pool yet. I imagine he intends to get me liquored up so he has a better chance of winning. It’s fine by me. If he wins, I still win.
My favorite song gets played by the cover band. I grab Brady’s hand. “Come on, dance with me.”
“I need to go find a chick to dance with,” Sawyer says.
“No! You don’t!” the rest of the table yells collectively.
“Come on guys, I’m not that bad,” he says.
“Except that you are,” Cole tells him. “Can you keep your dick in your pants for one night, bro?”
“But I want to dance to Rylee’s favorite song,” he pouts.
Murphy stands up. “I’ll dance with you.”
Sawyer looks at Caden who gives him a nod. “She’s all yours. For the dance, anyway.”
The four of us head to the dance floor on the other side of the club. The song is fast, but Brady pulls me to him and dances with me oh, so slowly. It’s the first time we’ve danced together. His hands find every place on me that’s not indecent – and a few that are.
“You feel so good,” he whispers in my ear. It’s not the first time he’s said those words to me. He says them often, but only when we’re making love.
I think that was his intention. He’s working me up into a frenzy right here on the dance floor.
I get lost in the music. I get lost in him. I never want the song to end. I want this moment to last forever.
Someone taps my shoulder, pulling me from the trance he’s put me in.
“Can I cut in?” a woman asks.
I turn around to see it’s the same woman from the game.
“Shauna, leave us alone,” Brady says.
She looks me up and down, appraising me like gum on the bottom of her shoe. “This is what you left me for? Boy, you sure traded down, didn’t you?”
“Don’t be a bitch,” Brady says, pulling me to the other side of the dance floor.
“Ignore her,” he says. “If she continues to bother us, we’ll go sit down. Or we’ll leave.”
He wraps me in his arms again, but this time it’s different. He’s protecting me instead of enticing me. A few minutes later, when Shauna hasn’t followed us, he finally relaxes.
“What the fuck is wrong with my cousin?” a deep male voice with a heavy Boston accent says behind us.
Brady spins us around and puts me behind him. I don’t miss that he looks over to see where Sawyer is, but he is on the other side of a very large crowd.
Brady holds his hands up, showing the guy he doesn’t want a fight. “If you’re talking about Shauna, there is nothing wrong with her. I’m just not interested anymore and she doesn’t seem to want to accept that.”
Another guy walks up beside the first one. “The way Shauna tells it, you dropped her like shit in the john.”
“That’s not the way it was,” Brady says. “We went out when I was in town. It was fun while it lasted, but I never gave her false hope. She knew I wasn’t in it for the long haul.”
One of the guys points to me. “Oh, but you are with the bitch behind you?”
“You don’t want to do this, man,” Brady says, taking a defensive stance.
I start to freak out. What if Brady fights the guy and re-injures his hand? I look across the bar, hoping one of the other guys sees what’s going on. Then I breathe a sigh of relief when Sawyer comes up next to us.
“Is there a problem here?” he asks.
Murphy motions to me that she’s going to get the other guys. I nod and will her to hurry.
“You brought reinforcements, tough guy?” one of them says to Brady. “Come on, let’s see what you got.” The guy pokes Sawyer in the chest.
“I’m not going to fight you,” Sawyer says to him.
“Oh, so you’re a pussy,” the guy says, pushing Sawyer with his hand. “Why don’t you just hide behind the dickhead, too, like the other stupid bitch?”
I look over and see Shauna at the bar, watching us with a smile on her face. I wonder how Brady could have been such a poor judge of character. Then again, I don’t think character was at the top of his priority list.
“Leave him alone. Your beef is with me,” Brady says.
A third guy comes up behind me, pushes me out of the way and grabs Brady’s arm. At the same time, one of the other two guys grabs his other arm and they hold him captive as the first guy starts punching Sawyer.
Sawyer takes a punch in the jaw and then spits blood on the floor. But he doesn’t raise his hand to the guy.
“Your friend here is just getting a demonstration of what we’re going to do to you in about ten seconds.”
A crowd is gathering around us as people start to realize what’s going on.
Brady is trying to break free, but the two men holding him are as big as he is. I shout to the bartender to get security over and then I watch Sawyer get punched in the gut two times. He doubles over and then stands back up.
Why isn’t he hitting the guy back? He’s just standing there getting beaten up. Nobody is holding his hands, yet he’s just standing there.
“Sawyer, do something!” I scream.
“Yeah, do something, Sawyer,” the guy mimics me in a high voice before punching him again.
Sawyer’s face is stoic. He looks like he wants to rip the guy’s head off, but he just stands there. His jaw is tight and his temple is pounding. Sweat beads on his forehead and rolls down the side of his face.
Then all hell breaks loose as Caden, Cole and Spencer tackle the three guys. Brady is finally free and he participates in holding them down. But Sawyer is just standing there, watching it all happen, frozen.
Security comes over and breaks things up, having enough witnesses to justify throwing the three guys and Shauna out of the club.
We head back up to the VIP section and I ask the bartender for a bag of ice along the way. Then I put it to Sawyer’s jaw when we get up there.
“I guess we should call it a night,” Cole says.
“Fuck that,” Sawyer tells him. “I’m not letting those douchebags ruin this for everyone.”
“What happened, man?” Brady asks him. “Why did you just stand there and let him hit you?”
Sawyer looks at Brady, but he doesn’t answer him. It’s almost like he can’t.
“Give him a break, guys. He’s hurt.” I shoo them all away and lower my voice. I can tell he’s traumatized. But I’m not sure it’s because of the blows he took. “It’s okay, Sawyer. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
He nods his head over and over. And I wonder what’s going on. I’ve never seen a man just stand there and get beaten up like that. Whatever it is, it runs deep. I look over at Brady, wondering if Sawyer doesn’t also have skeletons in his closet or demons in his past.
“Do you want me to look at your abs?” I ask when everyone starts to crowd around us again. “I have medical training.”
He shakes his head. “Not unless you want to be impressed by perfection,” he jokes. “I’m fine. Thanks for the ice, Rylee, but what I really need is a shot of tequila.”
“Shots for everyone!” Cole yells, motioning for the waitress to bring us some.
“Way to preserve your throwing arm,” Spencer says, toasting Sawyer when we all have our shots.
Sawyer lifts his chin at him. I’m sure he’d like everyone to think that’s what just happened, but I know better. And when Sawyer looks over at me, he knows I know it.
An hour and four shots later, we’ve all but forgotten the altercation. Brady has done everything in his power to turn the evening around and make it a good one. And by the time I’ve lost two games of pool, I’m putty in his hands.
On our way home, before we walk into the hotel, he stops me. “Knock knock,” he says.
I laugh. “Who’s there?”
“Five,” he says, holding up five fingers.
“Five who?” I ask with a knowing grin.
“Five times you’ll be screaming my name tonight, that’s who.”
I look at him sideways. “But you won. That means I have to give you five orgasms.”
“That’s right, Ry. You have to give me five of your orgasms. Did I not make that perfectly clear earlier?”
I giggle, looking at the time. “It’s going to be a long night, Taylor.”
“It’s going to be the best night,” he says. “I’ve been looking forward to breaking our record for eight months now. And believe me, this hand is ready to break records.”
He fists and releases his left hand and I smile knowing he’s not just talking about sex. He’s back in the game. And he’s going to be better than ever.