Bryant
GAME TWO STARTED out fine, but in the sixth inning, we started falling apart. Missed catches, horrible batting, and just an all-around disconnect had us scrambling to not lose by a landslide. By the bottom of the ninth, we were only down by two but still couldn’t pull it off. Final score, six to four.
I’ve never handled loss gracefully. I mean, I’m not a bad sport or anything, but I usually wallow in it for a few days. But losing the second game in the World Series is throwing me over the edge. I’d give just about anything to be able to see Layne right now.
After getting the third degree from Coach and the final itinerary for our flight out tomorrow, he dismisses us back to the hotel with strict instructions about drinking our pain away. No booze. Stay focused. We have three games in New York over the next five days.
I’ve heard my phone chime several times since the game ended, but I haven’t looked at it yet. I have little doubt the messages are from Layne, and as much as I wish I could be with her right now, what I don’t need is someone blowing smoke up my ass about how good we played when we didn’t. Nothing drives me crazier than the “You guys played well, the other team just played better” bullshit.
When we’re all back in the bus heading for the hotel, I pull my phone out to check the messages.
Layne: Man, you guys fell apart.
Layne: Sorry, that sounded shitty, but it’s true. Everybody was off their game tonight. You guys all have hangovers or something? ;)
Layne: Sorry again. I should have warned you that I have no filter when it comes to baseball. You probably don’t need me rubbing salt in the wound.
Layne: Okay. I’m going to bed. Don’t stress. You guys need to refocus and pull back together. New York, here we come!
The last one actually makes me laugh. This woman never fails to surprise me. Even though I’m pissed we lost, something about her calms me, even when we aren’t physically together. I can only imagine how much better I’d feel if she was actually here with me right now.
Me: What I wouldn’t give to be able to kiss you right now… Good night, babe. Thanks for the pep talk. Lol
It’s after midnight, so she’s probably asleep, but I don’t want her to think I was ignoring her texts.
Chime.
Layne: lol. You don’t need anyone else telling you how amazing you are. You know I speak the truth.
Followed quickly by another chime.
Layne: Also, you keep threatening me with all these kisses… when are you gonna pay up?
And just like that that, I have the overwhelming urge to drive across the city in the middle of the night, just to kiss her.
My dad’s words pop into my head again. He always said, one day, I’d meet a woman who would change everything for me. She’d calm my storm and make me want things I never thought I’d want. I’ve always thought my old man might have been a little crazy, but I’ll admit, I’m beginning to see what he meant.
Me: Oh, baby, don’t you worry, I’ll pay up the minute I get my hands on you.
Layne: Promises, promises. ;) Good night, Slam.
Me: Night, beautiful.
Even the fact that she called me Slam can’t stop the happiness I get from chatting with her. Plus, I know she only does it to get me riled up.
I HATE TO FLY. I realize it’s a part of traveling, which is something I do quite often with away games, and I’ve probably flown hundreds of times in the past fifteen years. Still hate it.
As soon as we land, I’m ready for a stiff drink and a nap, but alas, Conor has different ideas. Layne and Gracie don’t arrive until tomorrow midmorning, so this evening, Conor wants us to have dinner and chat. He says I’ve been neglecting him.
He really needs to find “the one.”
When the sun finally starts to go down and it’s time for dinner, Conor insists we head down to the restaurant and get out of our rooms for a bit.
After placing our order, we’re discussing the game tomorrow when a shadow falls over the table. When I lift my eyes to see who it is, I’m not sure whether to be angry or scared.
Sarina.
“Well hello there,” Conor says with his flirty smirk.
“Hello yourself, gorgeous,” she flirts back. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Bryant?”
I’m almost stunned silent. What the hell is she doing here?
“No, actually, I’m not. What are you doing here, Sarina?”
Conor looks between the two of us, and judging by his expression, he thinks she’s an old fling of mine.
Ignoring my question and focusing her attention on Conor, Sarina leans forward so her boobs are basically falling out of the top of her shirt and stretches her hand out for Conor to take it. His eyes immediately fall to her chest as he takes her hand.
“All right, seriously, what are you doing here?” I bark out. It irritates the shit out of me she shows up out of nowhere and now she’s trying to get her claws into Conor. Not happening.
Sarina and Conor both snap their attention to me.
“I’m here to watch the World Series of course,” she replies sweetly like it’s no big deal. These tickets are hard to come by, so how the hell did she get her hands on them?
“I didn’t realize you were such a baseball fan,” I seethe.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but like I said, we can change that any time you wanna come over.”
“And I told you I have a girlfriend.”
She shrugs and turns back to Conor.
“Wanna buy me a drink, hot stuff?” she purrs. Conor’s face breaks into a big grin, and he starts to stand. When I place my hand on his forearm, he stops instantly and averts his eyes to me.
“Do not engage,” I growl. Conor knows I would never interfere in one of his hookups unless there was a damn good reason. He sits back down and turns his attention to Sarina.
“Sorry, love, but it appears I am unavailable at this time.”
I don’t even have to look her way to know she is red with anger, her glare boring into the side of my head.
“You boys have no idea what you’re missing out on,” she barks before storming off.
I watch Conor’s face as he watches her ass walking away.
“Dude, you better have a great reason for making me pass that up. She is hot as hell.”
“She’s psychotic, dude. She’s the chick who lives next door to me that followed us to the club that night and wouldn’t stop talking about herself, remember? She’s been trying to sink her teeth into me since the day she moved in, even after I told her I have a girlfriend. I didn’t at the time, but that’s beside the point. She’s looking for a sugar daddy. You went that route once, you don’t wanna do it again.”
At the mention of his ex-wife, he nods in understanding and shakes like he has a chill before replying. “Thanks for helping me dodge that bullet then. Now, let’s eat.” Perfect timing since the waitress is walking up with our meals and drinks.
I wonder if Layne has any non-psychotic friends. Conor is grasping at straws to find “the one.”
We continue chatting about the game tomorrow and call it an early night. I’m almost asleep when I get a text from Layne.
Layne: You asleep?
Me: Nope. Had dinner with Conor and now I’m back in the room winding down. How was your day?
Layne: Good. We’re all packed and ready to head your way in the morning. How are you feeling about tomorrow’s game?
Me: Better than the last one. We all had a bit of time to decompress today and reevaluate our game.
Layne: Sounds like you guys are on the right track.
Me: Yes, ma’am. Gracie excited to come to New York?
Layne: Yep. I’m surprised I got her to sleep. Speaking of sleep… I gotta go to bed, hot stuff. And so do you.
Me: So bossy. ;)
Me: All right. Good night, beautiful.
Layne: Night.