“I don’t wanna put you to work,” he says. “Just sit there and look pretty. It’ll cheer me up.”
That I can do, even if I only have an hour before I have to leave for practice.
Or not—my phone rings, and I step into the hallway to answer it. Jeez.
Hold up. It’s Brad.
I slam my finger into the green answer button with lightning speed.
Brad doesn’t give me a chance to greet him. “Congratulations. Nowak’s out. Detroit wants you.”
And the world fucking stops.
Three words:Detroit wants you.
I’ve been waiting for those for who knows how long. Over a decade, probably, if I extend that to any major league team wanting me. The weight of it all is hard to fathom.
Yes, I’m heading for Lansing, the minor league team where Nowak was supposed to go, but there’s more.
Spring training is underway, and I’m already late.
“When do they want me?” I manage.
“When Nowak’s supposed to start, which by my count, was two weeks ago.” Brad pauses, maybe waiting for me to say something, but when I don’t, he presses on. “The team knows this is last-minute, so they’re willing to be flexible, but they also expect you to drop everything and get to them as fast as possible.”
“So, within a week?” My gaze travels across the room to Dean, who’s watching me with a hopeful, tentative expression.
“Within days, ideally,” Brad replies. “Detroit’s scouts are always impressed by WMU’s level of training, but you know team dynamics. They take time to get used to, and?—”
“—and I’ll need to be used to them by the start of the regular season.”
“You got it. Get yourself sorted, maybe see if you can buy your friends a case of beer or seven to deal with packing your stuff up, and let me know when you’re ready to fly to Detroit’s swanky new training complex in Phoenix.”
“Sure. Thank you.”
“Any time. I can email you the contract, since the league finally outgrew their damn fax machine fetish, so get it back to me ASAP. Congrats again.”
Then the line goes dead.
I’m still too stunned to bring the phone down from my ear. It pings, and it’s an email from Coach Ramirez.
It can wait.
“So…good news?” Dean asks after a few seconds, and my focus snaps back to his cute face.
I nod. “Yeah.” A pause. “Kind of.”
“Kind of? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I don’t even know.
The best news of my life, and it’s ripping me away from my boyfriend before I’m ready. Not that I’d ever be completely ready for?—
“Detroit wants me,” I deadpan. “They want me training with their minor league affiliate before the week is up.”
Dean jumps at me and wraps me in the biggest hug before I can begin trying to read his expression. My head is in his warm chest so I can’t keep trying, and all I can hear is him talking. I don’t register any of it.
“—you’re so fucking amazing, and you deserve this.”
