Page 28 of Saving The Shortstop

I take the paper Dallas hands over and smile seeing the grade on top.

“Ninety-two?” I say, beaming up at him. Before I know it, my arms are open wide and I’m wrapping them around him for a hug. It takes him a few seconds, but eventually, he hugs me back. His huge arms embrace me like a damn cocoon. “I’m so proud of you, D!”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and I swear he squeezes me a little tighter, making my heart skip a beat—or six.

When we finally release each other, I look up at him, handing him back the paper. “Ninety-two and you did that solo while I was sleeping.”

“More like snoring,” he says, still grinning hard down at me. “Thank you. If you wouldn’t have explained it the way you did, I would have never understood what to do.”

“First off, I don’t snore,” I say, point blankly. “Second, this was all you, QB,” I add honestly because sure, I may have been there at first to break down the assignment, but after that, I was dead to the world. And definitely not snoring. “Congratulations. But now you need to go!”

He starts walking backward, but a questioning look flashes over his face. “You’re not coming to the game?”

I can’t tell him the truth. That I want to go cheer for him and my brother and support my dad but that I’m avoiding Tabor. I can’t tell him because I don’t want him—or my dad and Noah—to know. So instead, I just shake my head.

“Not this time,” I answer softly. “Go kick some ass though! Don’t think that since you’re crushing it with your grades you can slack off on the field!”

He tries to hide it, but the disappointment is written all over his face. I don’t know why he’d care if I go to the game or not, but it’s clear that he does.

Probably because he knows my dad likes me and my mom there. I’m sure that’s it.

“Good luck, D,” I say, waving him off as he gets further away. “And congrats on your grade. You rock.”

He looks at me for a moment, his steps slowing and his eyes on mine. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Haven,” he says before slowly, he turns around and walks to his truck.

And even though I’m so happy for him, the way my heart is pounding right now … I know that spending all this one-on-one time together isn’t going to be good for me. But he needs me. And my dad needs him. So what am I supposed to do?

DALLAS

As the team gets ready in the locker room, I’m still high on life from the grade I got. Except, it wasn’t even the actual grade itself that’s made me feel like this. It was the pride that was written all over Haven’s face when I showed it to her, the way she instantly threw her arms around me and told me she was proud of me. Maybe it was because it’s Haven, and no compliment from her is ever not earned. Or, maybe it was my fucked-up mind, thinking back to all the times I didn’t have that good grade to show anyone as a kid, even after I got adopted by my parents and still couldn’t ever see to have anything good to show them besides my athletic skills. Whatever it was, I didn’t expect to feel such a rush from it.

As pathetic as it sounds, I didn’t want to let her go. The smile on her face and the way her eyes widened with excitement … fuck, I wish I could bottle that shit up forever. That way, anytime I was having a bad day, I could take it out.

If only …

My adoptive parents have been nothing but supportive and loving to me since the day they brought me home, yet I continue to feel a disconnect within myself stemming back from my childhood that sucks the joy out of me even now. But when Haven looked at me like that, for once, I didn’t feel that raw, aching feeling that I carry around day in and day out like a ton of bricks. And I’ll admit, it was nice to feel light, even if it only lasted a few minutes.

Coach walks into the room with the assistant coaches at his side. He’s decked out in his NEU hoodie and ballcap, iPad in hand.

“Today’s the day, fellas,” he says, bobbing his head up and down. “Today is the day we put everything we’ve been working on to the test. Our first few games were a little shaky, but slowly, we’ve ironed out the kinks and we’ve got ourselves one hell of a machine here.” He stops, pointing to each of us in the room. “I’m talking about this. In here right now. It’s a damn machine, and if we all do our jobs—working together like we’ve trained to do—you all are going to dominate out there. I promise you that.” His expression wavers, and he looks down, gently tapping the side of the iPad against his palm. “Stupid mistakes—that’s what will cost us this game if we lose. Rushing plays. Getting too cocky. Not paying attention.” He exhales. “We’re not going to lose because we’re the weaker team. We’ve got them beat in talent by a long shot. But those mistakes we’ve been making in practice? There’s no room—not one inch—for those mistakes today.” His gaze narrows, sweeping the room. “Understand?”

“Yes, Coach!” we all say at once.

“I said … do you understand?”

“YES, COACH!” This time, we scream it, and he nods confidently.

“Good,” he says, almost smirking. “I’m glad to hear it. Now, let’s go get ’em.”

As we all start to head out toward the door, he stops me, squeezing my shoulder.

“I think congratulations are due, Rivers.” He grins. “A few weeks of working with my genius daughter and you’re already headed in the right direction to stay on this team.”

Normally, I’d be pissed that someone might hear what he’s saying because I’d be embarrassed. But right now, I don’t really give a shit. So instead, I pat his side. “Thanks, Coach. Let’s go win this game.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Coach gives my shoulder one last grip before shoving me gently toward the exit. That feeling of pride swells in my chest again—not as profound as it was earlier but still there.

I’m not even on the field when there’s a voice behind me, and just like that, lightness is gone, and now I’m just fucking pissed.