“No comment.” I glare at the reporter who actually fucking thought he could ask me about the accident. Turning away, I head into the locker room. I just want to get home and see Sadie.
Most of the team is already there in various stages of undress. I head straight to the showers, cranking the water as hot as I can before stepping in. I let the water wash away the annoyance of having to actually interact with the press.
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I head for my locker.
“Maverick fucking King isback, baby!”
My head turns at Monty’s shout. He’s got a wide grin as he starts a slow clap that everyone else gradually joins in. There’s no use fighting the discomfort that comes when I’m the focus of so much direct attention, and I can feel my cheeks heat.
“Cut it out.” I try to scowl, but Monty points at my face, his smile somehow growing wider.
“Holy shit, he’s smiling! Someone get a camera, it’s history in the making, boys!”
I shove him away, but he’s right, I am smiling. Tonight was fucking awesome, and I’m happy.
Smiling is the obvious reaction.
“My dude, this is a good look for you.” Monty ignores any sort of personal space boundary and the fact that we’re both still wearing nothing but towels around our hips as he drapes his arm over my shoulder. “That’s a panty-melting smile, my friend. Good thing you don’t do it often, or we might start feeling inadequate around you.”
“Fuck off, Monty,” I mockingly growl. “It’s not just my face that makes me better than you.”
A chorus of laughter and good-natured jeers go up and Monty steps away, bringing his fist to his chest and twisting the imaginary knife. “You wound me, Mav.”
I smirk. “It only hurts because it’s true.”
Monty tosses his head back and laughs. “Damn, bro! What did I ever do to you?”
“Still glad I’m back?” I say archly, fighting to school my grin into my usual scowl.
“Fuck, yeah,” he says, his tone shifting on a dime to completely serious. “Really glad.”
“Thanks,” I reply quietly, grateful everyone else has moved on and isn’t paying attention anymore. “Me too.”
Monty gives me one more nod before winking at me. “And the personality change they gave you when they fixed your shoulder is pretty great. Make sure you thank the surgeon for that on my behalf, okay?”
My bark of laughter breaks free as he saunters over to his locker. “Fuck you, Monty.”
“Why would you do him when you’ve got Sadie waiting at home?” Kai shouts from across the locker room.
I point at him. “You’re right. Why am I still here talking to you fuckers?” I finish getting dressed and grab my bag. “’Night, boys.”
My smile remains the entire time I’m walking out of the stadium and into my car, and only starts to fade as I drive home. My mind feels like it’s playing a game of fucking ping-pong, bouncing between wondering what kind of reception I’ll get from Sadie and analyzing the interactions with the guys tonight. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve felt like I belonged in a social situation. Sure, I play ball with these guys and see them almost every fucking day. But I used to do the bare minimum. Leaving as soon as I could, talking just enough to get by. Hanging out after a game, giving each other shit, just having fun, that’s always been the stuff I avoid.
Until tonight. And fuck if I didn’t actually enjoy it, even if my laugh felt a little rusty.
But Sadie. We didn’t talk anymore about Eli last night, and when we finally climbed into bed, I could tell Sadie was keepingherself apart. I fucking hated it. But there’s parts of me I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to show her.
Last night, my past decided to show up and fuck with my present. And I wasn’t even there to stop it from happening. For fuck’s sake, what was Sadie thinking? She should’ve slammed the door in Eli’s goddamn face. Except she would never do that. She’s too good of a person to push someone away like that. But I also don’t need her getting involved in my shit.
I’ll handle Eli. Don’t fucking know how, but I will.
Unlocking the door to my apartment, I mentally push thoughts of Eli, and of baseball, aside. Compartmentalizing. That’s what my social worker when I was a kid called it. She also said I was really good at it, and someday that strength could bite me in the ass if I never figured out how to integrate the different parts of my life.
Yeah. Got it.
The living room is dark, so after petting Cat and setting down my bag, I toe off my shoes and walk softly to the bedroom. Sadie’s curled on her side, her red hair spread across her pillow. And for a couple of minutes, I just stare at her. Even in sleep, she somehow radiates peace and calm, and settles something inside of me.
I head to the bathroom to get ready for bed and strip down to my boxers. Then, carefully, I climb into the bed behind her and gather her into my arms. She lets out the cutest little snuffle before turning over, her eyes blinking awake.
