We don’t often go out after games, especially when we have another one the next day. But the guys are riding the high of back-to-back wins the last five games. I know they’re not planning much, just dinner at a high-end steakhouse. But even the draw of a twelve-ounce sirloin can’t tempt me away from going back to my room and texting Isabelle.
And I love red meat.
“I’m fine, just not feeling steak tonight.” Lies, all lies.
Darling frowns, staring at me. “You sure everything’s okay?” he asks in a softer voice.
“Totally. Wanna grab breakfast tomorrow, then go for a run?” I ask, shoving my feet in my shoes and grabbing my wallet and keys. He nods, and I give him a fast smile before heading out the door to where the cars wait to take us back to the hotel.
Half an hour later, I’ve put in an order with room service, kicked off my shoes, and have my phone open to catch up on the messages I missed during the game.
IZ: OMG how the hell was that a strike? That ump is blind.
IZ: I see you haven’t fixed that weird elbow thing you do sometimes.
I laugh at that one and reply to it before reading the rest.
KAI: Still a couch-coach I see…
Her reply is instantaneous.
IZ: I call it like I see it, Yamaki.
IZ: Good game tonight.
KAI: Thanks. It was the hat.
IZ: I know.
I grin at the phone and scroll back up to continue reading the messages she sent earlier.
IZ: Damn I just had my heart in my throat watching Sinclair run home. That was CLOSE.
She’s right. I’m not sure I would’ve risked that run, but Sin managed to slide in, a second before the ball hit the catcher’s glove.
IZ: Okay, I have to admit. You’re somehow even better than you were in college. That’s not fair you know.
That makes me chuckle and thumb out another reply.
KAI: I’m like a fine wine. I get better with age. And conditioning. And a solid rehab team. And lots of ice baths.
IZ: LOL Wait you mean you aren’t stuck with physiotherapy students who don’t know their scapula from their scaphoid?
KAI: Nope. Thank fuck. That kid was such a dumbass.
Another memory, of the time I injured my shoulder during a game, and the trainer for my college team was mentoring a student that I hope to God never went into sports medicine. Iz and I had been dating long enough for her to know a few things, and she was appropriately horrified, and amused, by the treatment this kid tried to give me — on my thumb instead of my shoulder.
KAI: You know too much…
IZ: What do you mean?
KAI: I’ve got no secrets around you.
IZ: I’m sure you’ve got a few now. It’s been eight years.
Eight years. And yet, somehow, it feels like no time at all has passed. We’ve actually managed to slip back into the easy friendship that we started with. Something I never would’ve expected to be possible.
There’s a knock on my door. Thank fuck, food. I need to feed myself before my stomach eats me.
