Night Games (25 page)

Damn it. Why does he always have to look so freakin’ hot?

“I just thought I’d try it. No harm done.” He looked up at me sheepishly, raking his hand through his hair.

“That water is way too cold. You could’ve gone into cardiac arrest out there.” I had my hand on my hip, forcing myself to glare at him.

“Hell yeah, it was cold, but invigorating. I was talking to Dr. Brownstein before and he thought aquatic therapy would be beneficial, but all the indoor pools around Stockton aren’t exactly private so—”

“You thought you’d take matters into your own hands, like you always do. Chase, you could probably rent the entire pool at the YMCA by the hour if you wanted to. You don’t have to swim out here and scare me half to death.”

“Yeah, but then the chances of people finding out I’m here go way up. I didn’t want to go through all the hassle.”

“And if you ended up in the emergency room with blue extremities, that wouldn’t cause any waves?”

“I wouldn’t say all my extremities are blue. Some temporary shrinkage perhaps, but not blue.”

“You think this is funny?”

“No. I think you’re stressed. I thought I’d get back before you got home. Then you wouldn’t have to know about my little experiment.”

“Even better. Now you’re sneaking around behind my back. What’s next? You gonna head down to The Blue Room the next time I’m not around? I’m sure Stanley would be thrilled to see you.”

His eyes darkened, turning from a sunny Caribbean blue to the stormy depths of the north Atlantic. He tossed his crutches aside, grabbing my upper arms, his hands soaking through the sleeves of my shirt.

“Don’t go there. You hear me?”

“And why not? It’s going to happen eventually, right? It’s only a matter of time.”

“I’m not going to cheat on you.”

“Well, you’re already starting to hide things from me. What’s next? Some bimbo on the side?”

“Why are you so insecure when it comes to me, huh? I don’t get it. We’ve been together three months already and I never once gave you any reason to doubt me.”

“Because you’re not known for being in long-term relationships. This must have been the longest you’ve ever gone without screwing things up. You have to be getting bored with me by now. Just admit it and save us both some grief.”

“Oh yeah, I just left the whole of civilization to camp up here with you because I felt like getting away from it all.”

“Well, it seems like you’re bound and determined to get back now that you’re starting to feel better. You’ll even jump into an icy lake to speed your recovery.”

“That’s not what this is about. Yeah, I’m feeling encouraged about how things are going with my rehab and, more importantly, with you. I didn’t think I’d be able to do this. I didn’t think I had it in me. I thought I’d fold. But that all changed after that night in New York, Grey, and you know it.”

He let go of me and took a step back like he was offended that I dared to question his fidelity to me. And he was right—I did know it. I felt it too. I just wasn’t thinking straight with all that was going on. If he pulled away from me now, I thought I’d crumble into nothing. I was blowing everything out of proportion.

“Chase, I—”

“Grey, don’t. Just don’t. I know you’re always going to have some sliver of doubt about me. Can I really be trusted? Will I remain faithful? And you can question me all you want. I probably deserve it. But I don’t know what it’s going to take to convince you that you’re it for me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not looking at, thinking of, or fantasizing about anyone else.”

I felt like an idiot. He was all excited about the progress he’d been making, and I had to go and throw a damper on it. I should have been lifting his spirits, encouraging him, instead of falling prey to my own self-doubt. He was a lot stronger than I’d given him credit for, both inside and out.

“You’re already doing a good job, Chase. I’m the one who needs to work harder.” I smiled when he opened up his arms to me. Not even caring that he was going to get me all wet, I fell into his embrace, feeling him rest his cheek on top of my head.

“I’m glad we had this time to ourselves. I think it helped us set up a good foundation. We had a chance to get to know each other outside of the spotlight because it’s only going to get crazier from this point forward. I know we still have a lot of issues we need to work on. But I’ll always cherish this time we spent together.”

“Really?”

“You think I’m bored? Grey, you’re constantly surprising me, keeping me on my toes. Usually in the off season, when I can’t play, I’m all alone going out of my mind. This is the first time since I joined the Kings that I’m going to be sorry to have to get back to the grind. I wouldn’t mind staying up on this mountain with you forever.”

“I guess I did teach you how to cook.”

“I do make a killer lasagna if I do say so myself.”

“You learned from the best.”

“And I thought I was the ultimate movie buff, but I think you’ve seen even more than I have.”

“I can’t tell you what a relief it was finding out your tastes go beyond
Transformers
and
X-Men
.”

“And I love reading in bed with you.”

“I think you’ve read every book in my trailer.”

“What can I say? I’m a speed reader.”

“More like a nerd.”

“I thought I was a jock?”

“You’re turning out to be an interesting mix.”

“I’m glad you’re making me a more well-rounded individual.”

“In all the right areas.”

He leaned down, pulling me into him. I was flush against his chest as I stood on my toes to reach his lips. He was shaking as he kissed me, unable to stop trembling as my fingertips glided over the goose bumps on his arms.

Reluctantly, I broke away, staring into his eyes. “You’re freezing. Time to get you back.”

“How about we take a nice, long shower together?”

“Oh, baby, I can’t wait to warm you up.”

***

The Kings are trying to give their stars as many at-bats as possible in spring training so Drake is batting leadoff.

He looks terrible at the plate, swinging at pitches in the dirt. The Kings pride themselves in taking pitches, working the count, but Drake is just up there hacking away. After coming out of last year’s Division Series batting .070, I thought he’d be looking to make amends for his dismal performance, but apparently not.

With the count in the pitcher’s favor, Drake just stands there and takes strike three with his bat on his shoulder. He shakes his head at the umpire before walking away, and the crowd starts to boo. He cranes his neck to look at the scoreboard, pretending like he doesn’t hear them. Too bad the Kings couldn’t dump his ass, but no one’s going to pick up his inflated salary. They’re stuck with him for the foreseeable future. But I couldn’t care less about Drake’s theatrics as Chase gets in the batter’s box.

“Now batting, shortstop, number three, Chaaaaaaaaaase Whitfield!”

The people in the stands get to their feet to welcome Chase back. The fans really missed him, and they’re letting him know that they’re behind him. They want him to succeed and come back strong. If anyone can turn things around for the Kings, it’s him.

Chase goes through the familiar motions, pulling up his sleeve, touching the plate with his bat, rubbing his eyes. But I know the fans’ warm reception has to be affecting him. He’s the heart and soul of this team, and while it’s a lot of pressure, it’s what he thrives on. It’s who he is. When the going gets tough and the game is on the line, he’s the one who wants to be out there. He’s not afraid of a challenge.

He lifts his bat over his shoulder and everyone holds their breath. The pitcher, probably all fired up at having to face him, throws a letter-high fastball, brushing Chase off the plate. He stumbles backward to get out of the way, and the crowd goes ballistic. What the heck is it with this Cleveland team today? Are they out to get him or something? But I can see that the brushback has only made Chase more determined as he sets his jaw and steps back in.

I’m on the very edge of my seat, leaning over the shoulder of the person in front of me. I’d throw myself in front of any pitch if it would stop him from getting hurt. And if this asshole does it again, security will have to restrain me from running out there and beating the crap out of him myself.

The pitcher steps onto the rubber, ready to throw. He winds up, and delivers. And Chase must have known what pitch he was looking for because he connects with another fastball, breaking his bat. The ball hits the gap between the center fielder and the right fielder and rolls all the way to the wall.

Chase is out of the box in a flash, picking up speed as he tears around first and heads for second. The right fielder muffs the ball, but I still expect the Kings to hold Chase to a double, not wanting to tax his knee. But Chase must have ignored the call from the bench, turning on the speed and hustling toward third. It’s going to be close, since the right fielder has a good arm. The ball is rocketing toward third, but the Cleveland team must get their signals crossed, because the shortstop leaps up and cuts it off instead of letting it fly toward third.

Cups of Gatorade are hurled out of the Cleveland dugout, no doubt in frustration over the botched play. They could’ve had Chase at third, but he’s in with a triple. He slid headfirst, thinking it’d be close, and his uniform is filthy. He tries brushing himself off, but it’s no use. The grounds crew hosed off the base paths before the game, and now he’s covered in mud.

But the crowd doesn’t care. They’re going nuts, jumping up and down, slapping each other five. And I can finally release a sigh of relief. He ran the bases under a pressure situation without any sign of a limp. He’s not known for having tremendous speed, but I think he was running even better than before his injury. The extra strength and conditioning treatments must have worked wonders to get his legs moving like that. I’m so proud of him right now. I can’t take it.

I watch him chat with the third base coach, a hint of a smile on his face. Chase never gloats in public. He doesn’t rub it in the opposing team’s face. He has too much sportsmanship for that. But if anyone deserves to feel a sense of accomplishment, it’s him. He made a resounding first step back onto the big stage. Let the baseball analysts have a field day with that clip after they doubted him all winter long, saying he’d never be the player he once was. He’s still got it.

Chase eventually scores the first run of the game when Scott Harper issues a sacrifice fly to center, and Chase jogs home only to be mobbed by his teammates. Fist bumps, ass slaps, and helmet thumps descend upon him as he ambles over to the cooler in the dugout, filling a paper cup and taking a long slug before tossing it under the bench. No doubt about it, it has to feel good.

I savor this moment of victory with him, grinning from ear to ear. The woman sitting on my left casts a sideways glance in my direction as the other wives congratulate me. They know what a big deal this is for the team. If Chase is healthy, it takes some of the pressure off their husbands. Chase is the kind of player they can depend on to come through in the clutch. If he plays well, he sparks the rest of them to up their game. They look to Chase to take the lead. They follow his example. They’re not going to be inspired by the way Drake handles himself, that’s for damn sure.

The woman nudges my shoulder once I retake my seat. “You really know your stuff, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” She better not be making some kind of dig at me, or I’m going to let her have it. No one’s gonna ruin this moment for me. No one.

“You’re knowledgeable about baseball. I feel like I’m sitting next to Andy up in the broadcast booth. At home, he never shuts up, so I’m glad they’re paying him to talk when he comes here.”

“Wait…you’re Andy Rader’s wife?”

“Gayle Tyson-Rader, guilty as charged.”

“Pleased to meet you, Gayle. Your husband is, like, my favorite play-by-play guy of all time.”

“Don’t tell him that. It’ll just give him a bigger head than he already does.”

“But he’s the best in the business. I’ve listened to him for years.”

“Yeah, if you’re a fan of the Kings, it’s pretty much a given that you’re a fan of Andy. He’s like the team’s unofficial mascot.”

“That’s cool that you sit with the players’ wives.”

“They’re a tough nut to crack, but don’t give up on them just yet. I’m a former reporter myself, so they didn’t exactly roll out the welcome wagon when Andy and I first got married. They thought I was spying on them, fishing for dirt to give to Andy. But after a season or so went by and they realized none of the secrets they blabbed ended up being said on the air, they started to open up to me.”

“Like what kind of secrets?”

“Which guys always seem to have a case of jock itch. Which ones don’t know how to match up their clothes when they’re on the road. Which players urinate in the shower. All the juicy details.”

“I guess we tend to forget they’re human just like everybody else.”

“Exactly. The women who read my blog feel the same way.”

“Your blog?”

“Yeah, ever hear of TheQueenOfDiamonds.com?”

“That’s you?”

“Anonymously, of course. Don’t go blowing my cover.”

“And the Kings let you get away with it?”

“I think they have an inkling that it’s me, but it’s a well-trafficked site. I get hundreds of thousands of pageviews a day. There aren’t many baseball sites out there for women. And the Kings’ front office is well aware that women are responsible for making a lot of the big financial decisions in most households. When they ran an ad on my site promoting season ticket deals with a special promo code, sales from my blog topped every other venue. That’s when I knew I had carte blanche to do whatever I wanted—within reason. I never bash any of the players or reveal any tidbits of personal information that they’d rather keep private. I’m not Perez Hilton.”

“Thanks for never doing a post about me by the way.”

“Well, I was looking at playing more of the long game with you.”

“Waiting to see if Chase dumped me first?”

“Something like that.”