The Trade(120)

A big part of me says they will.

“You still with her?” Maddox asks, confusing me.

“What?”

“Orson’s sister. You still with her?” His question comes out of nowhere and even though it pains me to answer him, I do.

“No.” I shake my head. “Ended first week of spring training, after all that shit went down.”

“Did you end it?” I nod. “Well”—he scratches the side of his cheek—“that would explain a few things.”

Turning my head toward him, I ask, “What do you mean by that?”

“Explains the edge about you. You’ve lost your easygoing nature, what fans love about you. Now you’re hardened, almost as if you’re really a Rebel.”

“Isn’t that what people want?” I ask, trying not to think about how right he is about losing Natalie.

“I think that’s what they wanted, for you to fall in line with the Rebel way of things, but do you know why Jason is so beloved?”

“Because he’s fucking weird?”

Maddox laughs. “Because he’s himself. At least when you were with Natalie, you were still yourself, that was something the fans could get used to, now you’re . . . just fucking cold. Maybe you need to stop thinking about what everyone else is thinking about you and focus on finding what makes you happy.” He pauses and says, “Do you even like playing the game right now?”

I shake my head. “Hate it.”

He nods. “It shows. You’re an exceptional baseball player, man, and you’re bringing success to this team. But you’ll never gain the respect of the fans if you’re not in love with playing the game. Like you used to be. And the media is not going to let up until you win the fans over. Because with rowdy fans, there’s a story, but the day they appreciate you is the day you can kiss those untrue articles away.” He rises from the tub and grabs a towel, quickly exiting and drying himself off. “I get it, it’s your job. But there is more to life than baseball, something you used to know and probably told rookies. Maybe you found that more to life thing in Natalie. And maybe you thought you could only have one thing. I don’t know. I’m not a fucking psychologist.” I chuckle at that. He sighs. “But I’ve watched you for years, boss, and I don’t think you want to leave the game hating it. Maybe finding what you lost when you sent her packing will bring that back. Maybe she’s what you need.”

With that, he takes off, towel wrapped around his waist, leaving me in a pile of, what the fuck?





Chapter Twenty-Eight





CORY





July





“You’re so beautiful. God, I would kill for your eyelashes.” Jason puckers up and goes in for the kill just as I get my hand up just in time to block him with my palm.

“I said no fucking kissing.”

Carson and Knox are still rubbing their cheeks from where Jason laid one on them like the idiot he is. He’s the only guy I know that will go out of his way to earn a reaction—hence the kissing.

Laughing, Jason pulls Dottie in by the hand and kisses her ring finger. Fuck am I jealous of that. They look so happy. Hell, everyone in this circle looks happy. Knox and Emory are fawning over their baby boy, Asher. Carson has his arms wrapped around Milly, cuddling her close to his chest, and Jason is a groomzilla, ensuring everyone within a twenty-foot radius knows he’s getting married this November.

And then there’s me.

The thing about Jason is that even though he does things to get a reaction, he’s a very likeable guy, so likeable that he has players from the Bobbies— like Walker Rockwell, Carson Stone, Knox Gentry, and Ford Fowler — and also almost every guy on the Rebels attending his event, which means, the two rivals are sharing the same air. And there’s not one single issue. No fights, no beef, we’re all here for a good cause. The Lineup.

“Seriously, those eyelashes though,” Jason says, staring at me. “Are you wearing makeup, dude?”

“This is why I haven’t answered your question about being in your wedding yet,” I say, joking, even though I don’t feel light at all.

I feel like I’m on the verge of either passing out, wanting to get hammered in five minutes, or running off to the next trashcan so I can throw up from the nerves rushing through my body.

I’ve been dreading this night ever since Jason told me about it but also looking forward to it because ever since my conversation with Maddox, I realized some of what he said might be true. Hell . . . I know it’s true.

It started with last season, trying to muddle my way through the anguish of losing a part of me that I built my career on—my home, Baltimore.

Then it went on to dealing with the fans, not performing, and getting on their bad side. From there, it’s been an uphill battle and the only bright thing during the last year in the dark was Natalie. She was the beacon of light, the reason I felt whole, and instead of recognizing that, I balked, got scared, and eliminated it.

And now I want that thing back. I need her back.

I’ve taken a few weeks to think about it, mull it over, convince myself that I have a chance to make things better. So, when I was getting ready tonight, I took extra care deciding what to wear, making sure I looked good enough to possibly forgive.