Page 55 of The Triple Play

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything more.

Unfortunately, over the next couple of hours, things go downhill. Not even my lucky moustache can help me today. My timing is complete shit when I hit the batting cages. My pitches go wild more times than they hit Griff’s glove. And I can’t get my feet to move fast enough in most of the drills we run.

I’m off. I was off yesterday as well, but with that being the first practice, everyone was rusty, at least a little bit. I’m not a rookie, however. I’m better than this. And everyone knows it.

When practice finally ends, I feel like shit. Thankfully, my teammates are smart enough to give me a wide berth, recognizing how out of sorts I am.

I take longer in the showers than I need to, so the locker room is mostly empty by the time I’m done. It doesn’t matter, I know Griff will be waiting for me outside.

Sure enough, when I finally push open the door to the parking lot, he’s there, leaning against his truck that we drove to practice, with his arms crossed. His head is tilted back to face the weak springtime sun that’s filtering down.

I don’t want to hear whatever he has to say, unless he’s ready to admit there’s a possibility of this thing with Olivia being real.

“Let’s go,” I grumble when I reach the vehicle, yanking open the back door and tossing my bag inside.

Griff climbs into the driver’s seat but doesn’t turn the engine on. “We need to talk about this.”

“Do we?” I fire back. “Or do you just want to tell me again that what happened can’t ever happen again.”

I see his shoulders tense. “Foxxy. C’mon, man.”

“No.” I practically shout. “Maybe you can act like it didn’t matter, like she doesn’t matter, but I can’t. It’s complicated and messy, I know. But can you really sit there and tell me you don’t miss her? That you don’t want her?”

He stays silent and I scoff. “Whatever.” I shake my head. “You might be fine pretending it didn’t happen, that she didn’t—” I cut myself off, exhaling hard. “Pretend that none of us felt anything.”

“We have no idea how she felt.”

“Gosh, I wonder why that would be,” I say sarcastically. “Maybe because you refuse to talk about it? Come on, don’t fucking do that, man.” I spit out the words. “Don’t act like you can’t see how good it could be between the three of us.”

Griff’s voice drops low. Angry. Good, I’ll take any fucking emotion right now, anything other than the flat, closed-off version of him that’s trying to pretend everything’s fine. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about what we want. It’s about what’s best for her.”

“And you really think we have any right to decide that for her?”

He huffs out a breath. There’s a long beat of silence. Then he says quietly, “No. I suppose not.” Without another word, he starts his truck and drives us home.

I’m not ashamed to admit, I use Harold as a way to avoid Griff that evening.

Under the guise of bringing him dinner and checking on him, I show up with some soup and sandwiches I made. And now I’m sitting on one end of his lumpy couch. The television is on sports highlights. Don’t ask me what the announcers are discussing, though. I couldn’t tell you.

Sweet Pea is curled up on my lap, purring like a tiny engine with one adorable paw covering her face. The light weight is grounding in a way I didn’t know I needed.

“Traitor,” Harold mutters from his recliner, but when I glance over, I see him watching us with the smallest of smiles.

“She has good taste.” It’s banter we’ve had dozens of times, and the familiarity of it settles me.

He snorts. “More like no loyalty.”

I scratch her behind the ears, and she curves into my touch, her purr turning even louder. “Nah, she’s loyal to the guy who picks up her food every week.”

Harold snorts. Then he shifts, and though he tries to hide it, I notice his wince. “You take your pills yet, old man?”

“Who you callin’ old?” he grumbles.

“There’s only one of us who was born before the first man landed on the moon, and it isn’t me.”

He harrumphs again.

“Is that a yes, or…” I trail off, arching a brow. Then I lean forward, pick up the container, and shake it at him.