I am. And then I’m coming home and making you very, very sorry for it.
Promise?
Count on it.
Chapter
Fifty-One
October
Penelope: [screenshot of HandsOffDeck follower count: 75,003]
Decker: How does someone get that many followers so fast?
Dedicated fan base.
I want to send them something. A signed jersey or something.
That would be nice of you.
I miss you.
Me too.
Show me how much.
Goodnight.
C’mon. I’m dying over here.
(picture of lifting her shirt)
Chapter
Fifty-Two
Decker
* * *
Maybe the Colts have a good reason not to re-sign me.
We won our division but fell short in the league.
So, here we are in the press room, our last one for a while. Hopefully not my last one ever. Regardless, I couldn’t be happier to have some dedicated time with Penelope and Hazel coming up. Except it more than likely means we’re moving, if I get to continue playing ball. It’ll be sad to say goodbye to the house. It’s where we fell in love.
We all enter the media room—Foster, Easton, Hayes, and me. Ripley stands off to the side, knowing he’s next and wanting to make sure we appear as a united front.
I try not to think about how it will be my last time standing on this podium with these three guys. Foster is my biological brother, but Easton and Hayes are my brothers too, and I hate that I won’t be with them next year.
I’m gonna have some major fucking FOMO.
The reporters settle, cameras up and notepads open.
Here we go.
The first few questions are standard. What happened in the final series. What does the team build look like going forward. What would you like to say to the fans. Hayes takes the majority of questions as our leader. Foster fields some about his pitching and whether the pitching was the problem.
