Goddamn it, she’s way too insightful. “Yeah but playing in front of a crowd is different from having to talk to them.”
Her eyebrows draw together as she chews on her lower lip, staring at me like I’m a puzzle she wants to solve.
Good fucking luck, Specs.
“You’re an introvert.”
Well, fuck. It took the guys on the team an entire season to figure that out and stop inviting me to everything. At first, they didn’t understand it wasn’t because I didn’t want to hang out. It was because I was so fucking drained from the social energy it took to perform at games, hell, even at practice sometimes, that when it was done, I just needed to go home and be by myself.
Monty was actually the first one to figure it out, which makes me feel even more guilty for snapping at him earlier. The guy was just trying to give me a break. Of course, he’d assume my girlfriend would know how uncomfortable these types of situations make me.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it. Let’s just go meet the guys,” I say, looking away from her all-too-knowing stare.
I lead her toward one group, and pushing down my discomfort, introduce her around. This group of players don’t do the children’s hospital stuff, so they don’t know Sadie.There’s a lot of questions about our relationship, and to my immense relief, Sadie steps up and handles them. She’s fucking amazing, spinning stories, laughing with the guys, and charming them all. I play my part of boyfriend with my arm around her waist. And slowly, I start to relax.
We drift around the room, stopping at the bar to get a glass of wine for her and a club soda for me. She takes it with a smile of thanks to the bartender before turning to me.
“You don’t want a drink?”
I’ve already revealed enough of myself for the night so I just shake my head.
“Sadie, you’re here!” Willow’s excited squeal has us turning around, and I mentally thank her for the interruption.
I stand back as the two women hug, giving Ronan Sinclair, Willow’s boyfriend and the starting first baseman, a nod.
“How’s the shoulder?” he asks, taking a drink of his beer.
“Fine. Hoping to be back in a few weeks.”
“Good. It’s not the same without you out there.”
“Diaz is a solid player.”
“His arm isn’t like yours.”
Okay, I can’t lie, that feels good to hear. “Thanks.”
Ronan leans against the bar and looks from the women to me. “Sadie’s a good person. Willow thinks very highly of her.”
I sip my soda water, waiting to see where he’s going with this.
He takes a minute, studying me intently. “I know I’m the new guy, and with all the shit Willow and I dealt with recently, I probably shouldn’t be the one to say this. But I’m going to anyway. Because Willow also thinks highly of you.”
That takes me by surprise. But he’s not done.
“Take it from someone who recently fucked up and had to spend several days worrying he’d lost one of the most important people in his life. Treat her well, put her first, and don’t be a dumbass.”
I was there in the days after Ronan and Willow’s relationship suddenly became public knowledge, after he punched out a player from another team that harassed her. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t know the details, but I saw how devastated he was those few days before they worked it out, so I know what he’s getting at. Hell, I was the one to sit next to him on the bus and tell him to get his head out of his ass and fix things.
The difference is, he loves Willow. Their relationship was at stake.
For me, the stakes are different. I don’t have a relationship on the line, it’s my career.
Choosing my words carefully, I respond, “Tell Willow I have no intention of doing anything to hurt Sadie.”
The women in question turn back to us in that second, and Sadie’s smile is warmer and more relaxed than I think I’ve ever seen. She slides her arm around my waist and snuggles into my good side, and fuck, if it doesn’t feel good.
Too good.
