We set off, the pace nice and easy, the only sound our breathing. But as always happens when us guys get together, the competition soon starts. And the next thing I know, I’m sprinting against Yami, proving catchers can do more than just squat.
Once again, I’m reminded of racing Lark that day. I guess it’s not one I’ll soon forget, seeing as it felt like the end of something that never even had the opportunity to start.
Except now? Now I might have a second chance with her. Maybe being here in the same place where she broke my heart without ever knowing it, the day after she tells me she’s ending things with Baron, is a sign. A sign my time is coming.
After finishing our run, I make good on my offer and we head to a local bakery that specializes in gourmet donuts.
We sit down at a table, each with a donut and coffee in front of us, and dive in. This is why I love the offseason. I can eat donuts after a run and not worry the team nutritionist is gonna give me shit.
Not that it would stop me from having one during theseason, but still. Guilt-free donut? Yes, please and thank you.
“Excuse me, hi, um, are you guys from the Tridents?”
We all turn at the high-pitched, feminine voice. I gotta be honest, it’s way more common for dudes or kids to come up to us, but every now and then, women will approach us. Like the pair standing next to our table right now.
“Yes, we are, pretty lady.” Darling turns on the charm, his accent somehow more pronounced as he gives the women a grin. I just internally roll my eyes. He knows being the good old southern boy gets them every time.
“Oh my God, we love the Tridents!” One of them giggles, and without being asked, the two of them start to pull over chairs and sit down.
A brunette squeezes in between me and Yami, the space so narrow her thigh is pressed against mine. I give her a small smile and try to subtly put some space between us, which proves impossible. “Hey. I’m Monty.”
“Hi, I’m Leia,” she says in return.
“Like fromStar Wars?” I blurt out, and she nods, giggling again. Not sure how my question was funny, but okay. Or wait, do I have something stuck in my teeth? I run my tongue over them to check but can’t feel anything.
A hand lands on my arm, startling me. “So, what position do you play, Monty?” she asks coyly.
“I thought you said you love the Tridents?” I ask without thinking about how it might sound. “I’m one of the catchers.” And seeing as there’s only three of us, a fan would know who I am.
Her face falls slightly, but she recovers quickly. “Right, ofcourse.” She giggles again. Okay, now that sound is getting annoying. And I’m not easily annoyed. Leia leans in and presses her chest into my arm. Woah, that’s not cool. I try to shift away but Yami’s on my other side and there’s nowhere to go.
“Uh, yeah. So.” I push away from the table, my chair scraping across the floor and stand up, dislodging her. “I gotta take a leak.”
I escape to the back of the bakery, not even sure if there is a washroom back here. But I don’t know how to act around women like Leia. Women who are bold and forward. It’s cool, I mean, all power to them. I just don’t have a fucking clue what to do when I’m not interested in that at all.
At least, not with them.
After a couple of minutes, I peer around the corner, and to my relief, the girls are gone. I make my way back to the table and sink down in my chair.
“Monty. Dude. What the fuck?” Yami punches my shoulder. “She was into you.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t into her,” I reply lightly. “I’m here for donuts, not girls.”
“Who says you can’t have both?”
“Give our boy a break, Yami,” Darling says, leaning forward. “Everyone knows he’s only got eyes for one woman. He has since the day he joined the team, ain’t that right?” He looks at me, sympathy clear on his face. “But Monty, you gotta figure out how to move on. She’s gettin’ hitched.”
I want to tell them she’s not. But it’s not my news to share, so I keep my mouth shut, and just incline my head to show I heard him. Heisright, I’ve had eyes for Lark since the very beginning,and unfortunately, these guys know the story all too well.
They helped me work up the courage to ask her out, witnessed me show up at the stadium with flowers, only to find her kissing some dude in khaki shorts and a polo shirt.
She introduced him as Baron, her boyfriend. Of course, the guy wearing fucking khakis and a polo shirt had a name like Baron. There was no mistaking the arrogance as he looked me over. I can still remember how his chin lifted, likely taking in my clothes — athletic wear for the workout I had to go and do — and clearly finding me lacking. I knew right then, there was no hope for me. If she was with a guy like him, she’d never want a guy like me.
“Who’s up for some batting practice this afternoon?” I ask as a way to try and redirect the conversation. It works, and talk turns to what time we want to meet up at the stadium to get some hits in.
Thank fuck. Talking about women with my teammates is one thing I work hard to avoid. I don’t want to deal with the questions that might come up. It’s been easier to let them believe I’m pining over Lark and that’s why I’ve never had a girlfriend.
And I mean, let’s be real. That’s basically the truth.
