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“Maybe another hour.”
He lets out a tortured moan. “I want you for longer.”
“I know, but Dad does have an all-day retreat on Thursday.”
Dalton shoots me a wicked grin. “That’s why he canceled practice.”
The water turns cold, causing us to jump out of the spray. Dalton turns off the water and I screech.
We’re laughing as we grab towels. Our eyes meet, causing me to pause. It’s in the way he looks at me that stirs my insides. Without a doubt, I’m truly in love with Dalton Boyd.
Chapter Thirty-One
DALTON
“You were a beast.”Carter slaps his gloved hand against my shoulder as Javier high fives me.
The roar of the crowd fades in the distance as we walk further into the tunnel leading to the locker room. It’s Wednesday night, and we just won our fifth game in a row.
“The look on the pitcher’s face when you hit the three-four pitch and it sailed over the fence was priceless,” Carter says.
“He totally wasn’t expecting that,” Javier says.
“He underestimated my strength, but I showed him who’s boss.” It’s a cocky statement, but I reserve the right to make it. I had one hell of a game. I brought the team to victory. No, back up. Ihelpedget the team to victory. Everyone played their role well. “You had a great game too,” I tell Carter. “That throw you made to second base was masterful.”
The play was close. The runner pushed off first to steal the base, but Carter snagged the wild pitch and threw to second with razor-sharp accuracy. The runner wasn’t too happy with the call, but he was out.
“Thanks. I’ve been working with the coach, and he has helped hone my skills. I can’t wait till we start the Wildcat season. We’re kicking ass this year.”
I smirk. It’ll be tough without Braxton and the crew, but we should hold our own. “We’ll show off our talent.”
“Damn straight, we will.”
The spirits are still high once we’ve showered and dressed. I reach for my phone and notice a missed text from Shannon.
“You coming, Boyd?”
I glance at Carter. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Shannon:Heads up. I’m coming Saturday. You better be ready.
I can’t stop the smile from breaking across my face. I could use a dose of Shannon. I could get her advice on my situation with Cassie’s dad. She knows most of our story, but she’ll tell me how to approach Coach.
Me:Sounds great. I’ll send you the address when you get here.
Shannon:Awesome. See you Saturday.
I place the phone in my pocket and step out of the locker room, but raised voices echo down the hall, stopping my progress. That’s new. No one starts arguments on this team—not where Coach could overhear. Intrigued, I march down the corridor with every intent to put a stop to it before Coach finds out. But as I round the corner, it’s not two teammates going at it. It’s Jason and an older version of him. A woman stands off to the side looking uncomfortable. I duck back behind the corner before either of them notices me.
“We didn’t fly in to watch you sit on the bench. You’re better than this. What the hell happened?” The guy, which I’m guessing is Jason’s old man, is clearly upset, but his face isn’t red and blotchy, like my old man. Jason, though, he is devoid of emotion. Is that what I look like to most people—jaw clenching, wanting to stand up for myself but the unwilling to do so since the consequences are worse? But I have no way of knowing if his dad is the same level of asshole as mine.
“Coach usually plays us both. This was the first game I didn’t play.”
“And it just happened to be the game we watched?” He scoffs as if Jason’s lying. But Jason is telling the truth. We usually do share playtime. I was surprised Coach kept me in the entire game. My bat may have been on fire, but that hasn’t stopped him before. My chest tightens as a foreign feeling capsizes my gut. Why the hell am I feeling guilty? I don’t ever feel guilty for getting playtime. This is Coach’s fault for making me care.
“Should I cancel our flight for Saturday? There’s no point in coming if you’re nothing more than a bench warmer.”
“I’ll get to play.”
