Fastball (Wilde Players Dirty Romance)

by Hargrove,A. M.

  “No, get over here now!”

  Turning back to my family, I say, “I’m sorry. He’s a little insistent.”

  “Go. We’ll be fine right here,” Mom says.

  “Come with me. Then I won’t have to stay so long.”

  Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Ryder, you just pitched the best game of your life, and you’re getting ready to play in the World Series. This is something you’ve worked for your entire life. We can wait a few minutes. We’ll be here a few days. Now, go and celebrate this victory.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Even with all the handshakes and back pats, the one thing that I miss the most is my girl. And, yes, she is mine. She should be here, right by my side, helping me celebrate. Without her, I have to wonder if I would have pitched the same game that I did. Knowing she was there helped me throw with perfection. Maybe it was because I wanted to make her proud, or maybe it was because I wanted to show off my mad skills. Whatever, it worked. But now I’m hollow and empty inside, and I miss her like a crazy fucker. The party in me is gone, and all I want to do is go home and drown my sorrows, alone. I hate to admit this, but I don’t even care that my parents are here, and that’s a shitty thing to say or even think.

  Putting a stick of rebar in my spine, I down a couple of shots and use Mom, Dad, and Riley as an excuse to leave the screaming group of testosterone that surrounds us.

  My family grins at me as I wobble back toward them.

  “Looks like someone’s had a few,” Riley says. She sticks a finger in my ribs and pokes me hard.

  “Ow. Stop that.” She’s always known exactly where my tender spots are.

  Mom looks at Dad and says, “Some things never change.”

  “Hey, do you all mind leaving? I could use a bite to eat.”

  “Not at all. You sure you want to leave?”

  Right then, Ms. Cougar sidles up to us. “Ryder, are you going to introduce us?” She puts her arm around me and acts entirely too chummy for my taste. I try to shrug out of her grasp, but every time I move, she goes with me.

  “Ms. Whitestone, this is my family.” I make all the introductions, and she gushes over me like I was the greatest thing in the world. She hangs on my every last word, and my mom stares at me, as does Riley. They both think something is up.

  When there’s a small break in the conversation, I finally say, “It was nice talking with you, but we were just heading out. My parents are only here for a few days, so I want to spend some private time with them.”

  “I understand. By the way, did you tell them about the trade?”

  “No, I haven’t had the chance.” What a fucking bitch. I need to get out of this team. She’s a flaming whore.

  “I see. Well, enjoy your evening.”

  We leave, and on the way out, my mom asks, “Trade?”

  “I’ll explain. Let’s get out of here.”

  Right by the door, we pass Robinson with his tongue jammed down that girl’s throat. I grab his arm and pull him off her. “Would you straighten up? You’re going to lose everything you have if you don’t pull your shit together.”

  He looks at me with glazed eyes, and I have to wonder if he’s on drugs. “Are you on anything?” I ask.

  “Huh?”

  “Did you take anything? Drugs?”

  His damn eyes can’t even focus. I look at the girl and ask, “Did you give him anything?”

  “No.” And to be honest, she doesn’t look like she has an active brain cell in her head.

  “Robinson, look at me.” He stares for a second, and I ask him again, “Did you take drugs?”

  “No, just that.” He points to the table next to where they stand.

  “Jesus, how much did you drink?” He motions to the bottle of tequila, and three quarters of it are gone.

  I ask my parents if they can find the restaurant because I need Riley to drive us. Even I’ve had a bit too much to drive, and Robinson needs to go home. I order the girl an Uber, and we take Robinson to where he’s been staying. Once I get him inside, we head to the restaurant.

  “He’s a dumbass.” I explain his circumstances. “I’m not sure he’ll ever learn.”

  “But at least you tried,” Mom says. “So, what’s this about a trade?”

  I groan and tell them about the vicious cougar attacks I’ve been experiencing.

  My mom nearly jumps out of her seat. “That’s sexual harassment.”

  “Yeah, and who would believe me? She’d just deny it, or even turn the tables and say I was the one harassing her. I have no proof. And honestly, right now, I would welcome a trade to be away from her. She’s a nutcase.”

  Dad stares, and he’s pissed. His face always takes on an angular look, as his cheeks appear more chiseled somehow. His mouth turns down, and then he speaks, “Ryder, you can’t let her push you out like this. You earned your place as ace, and if you’re traded you’ll be in the fourth or fifth spot, depending on where you end up.”

  “Guess I’ll have to take my chances, because playing under that woman is not worth it to me anymore.”

  “Please, son, let’s see if we can take legal action,” Dad begs.

  “Then my reputation will really be toast.”

  Riley steps up to my aid. “He’s right, Dad. I see where your thoughts are, but Ryder would be completely screwed, and no one would touch him after that.”

  The waiter stops by to take our order, and out of habit I get the bone in ribeye, medium rare. I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to eat. I hear the low hum of chatter around me, but I can’t help but wonder where Gina is tonight. Is she happy, or sad? What’s she doing? Who’s she with?

  Riley kicks me under the table. When I look up, she gives a slight shake to her head.

  Mom says, “So I hear Cassie and Fletcher are going to have a little one.”

  “That’s the news,” Riley says.

  “How exciting for them,” I say.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot. How many tickets to the World Series can you get?” Mom asks.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  Mom reaches for a warm piece of bread that the waiter just delivered and says, “Your cousin, Kaycee, wants to come.”

  “Kaycee? Isn’t she like twelve?”

  Riley leans across the table and punches me. “No, she’s not twelve, you dork. She’s twenty-one.”

  “Already?”

  “Yes,” Mom says. “And she’s probably going to be skiing in the next Olympics.”

  “No shit.”

  “Watch your mouth, Ryder,” Mom admonishes.

  “Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

  “Anyway, Kaycee just retuned a week or two ago from Chile. You know that’s where they train in the summer. She has a month off before the big snows hit out West, so she wants to come and watch. That is, if you have any extra tickets.”

  “Sure. I’ll see what I can do. I know Fletcher will want to come when he can, Cassie, you all, and—” I would’ve said Gina, but I doubt there’s any chance of that.

  After dinner, we all head back to my place. As soon as Mom and Dad go to bed, I beg Riley to tell me what she knows.

  “I talked to her, and she told me she needed to get some things straight with her life. Ryder, be patient. It’s all so new to her. She didn’t say as much, but I gather with everything that happened, she’s trying to sort it all out. We didn’t talk more than a few minutes, but I think she was trying to let me know how much she cares.”

  “Uh huh. So much that she couldn’t stick around to tell me herself.” Riley looks at me with pity, and that’s the last thing I need. “Stop it, Riley. I don’t want that from anyone, least of all you.”

  “I know how much you care for her.”

  “No, you can’t possibly know that.”

  “Okay, maybe not, but I do know you love her. And that’s saying a lot. I’m pretty damn sure she loves you, too.”

  I snort. “Well, she has a fucked-up way of showing it.”

  “Ryder
, she wasn’t raised like we were.”

  “True, but when you show someone how much you care, the last thing you do is turn your back on them.”

  “You’re not getting it. At all,” Riley insists.

  “Guess not. But I’ll tell you what I am getting. She stuck her fist inside my chest and ripped out my heart. I got that part just fine. I’m done. I can’t deal with that again.”

  “Oh, Ryder, I’m sorry. But I wish you would trust me on this.”

  “Sorry, the only person I’m trusting where Gina’s involved is myself.” I turn away and head to bed, even though I seriously doubt I’ll be able to sleep tonight.

  GINA

  Hours before

  There has been so much to do. So many decisions to make that will affect the rest of my life. The first one was to get a new lawyer. No offense to my mother’s, but he’s been a little too possessive for my liking. And maybe in a different time I would have given him the time of day, but there’s another man who makes my heart pound in my chest. So a headstrong female is assigned to me, and I’m all about girl power.

  That is one of the many things I had to take care of, including deciding the fate of my mother’s estate. It’s something she purchased recently, wanting to ride out her days in Florida, where the climate is good all year round. So I put it up for sale after spending time with an estate seller and my lawyer going through the things I would let go. It turns out ninety-five percent of it is going up for auction at month’s end.

  There are several portraits and paintings I decide to keep. I let go of most of the furniture as none of it really appeals to me.

  It’s surreal to be back in my tiny living room after the vastness of her estate. I wonder how I could ever leave this place. This is my first apartment. It’s home, even though the clutter has been organized. And what about that? Ryder paid money for me to get to this point, and now I plan to box everything up.

  This is one decision I haven’t been able to make. A knock comes at the door and takes me out of my misery. My steps falter when I think it might be Ryder. I peer through the hole and open the door.

  “Riley.”

  She glances down at me from her slightly taller height.

  “I warned you what I’d do if you broke my brother’s heart.”

  I turn around as she pushes her way inside. Flattening myself to the door, I cross my arms over my chest. “Here to fight me?”

  She spins around and mimics my stance.

  “Let me warn you. I have a mean right hook,” I tease.

  Rolling her eyes, she says, “And let me warn you. I’ve been doing kickboxing for the last two years.”

  “Sounds like we are at a standoff.”

  “Maybe,” Riley begins. “I, at least, want to know why you dumped my brother.”

  Of course, she does.

  “I didn’t dump him. I cut him loose, temporarily. And that’s only because I thought it was fair. How could I ask him to wait for me when I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to figure things out? I’m not good at the relationship thing. I don’t know how to be considerate. I’m used to coming and going as I please.”

  The vomiting of words freed me from some of the guilt I’d been feeling. She deflates and sits on my sofa. I do the same.

  “I get it. I’m independent, too. I’m not sure I’ll ever let a man get that close to me.” She sighs. “Still, if you’re truly done with my brother, be a woman and tell him.”

  Grinding my teeth, I bite back a retort. “I deserve that. I care for him. Hell, it’s more than that. He’s made me feel. He’s treated me better than anyone. Well, except my first and that time it didn’t feel right.”

  “Who’s that?”

  If she had been anyone else, I might not have answered.

  “Mark,” I remind her.

  I wait for the flash of recognition in her eyes.

  “Fletcher’s best friend?” Nodding, I wait. “Figures.”

  “Figures why?” I ask.

  “You and I are a lot alike. I used to crush on him when I was younger.”

  “And?” Because I know there’s more.

  “He told you?”

  “Not really,” I admit.

  She lets out a breath. “He’s hot, but you know that. Whenever we came into town to visit my aunt and uncle, he’d be around. I remember him having a girlfriend one summer. And the next, he was brokenhearted. That must have been you.”

  It still bothers me that I hurt him. I loved him, just not in that way.

  “We were better off as friends. He sees that.”

  “Leaving a trail of broken hearts. Even I’m not that bad.”

  “Being a realist. It’s kind of hard to screw a guy when he feels more like your brother than your boyfriend.”

  She nods and continues with her story.

  “True. Anyway, one night, we were sitting on the tree swing. Well, I was. We’d been drinking, and not old enough to. Beer,” she explains. “And he kissed me or I kissed him. But that was it.”

  “It was?”

  She gives me a noncommittal shrug.

  “He’s a good guy,” I say. “You should go for it.”

  “And take your sloppy seconds. No thanks.”

  I laugh. “It was once too many years ago. It doesn’t even count.”

  “I don’t know. I have bigger issues. A charity event has come up, and I need to find a caddy since I won’t have one in another month.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I remember Ryder mentioning something about your caddy quitting. When is the event?”

  She lifts her eyes to the ceiling. “Thank God the sponsors set it for after the World Series. They are trying to bring money in, and I don’t want to pull out because it’s for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. They’re done with their normal campaign, but a child who has just been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer wants to play a round of golf with the pros. Because she’s not expected to live out the year, they are putting this together rather quickly. I’m lucky to have been invited.”

  “See, it’s that kind of shit that puts life in perspective. You should do it.”

  “I can’t.” Her laugh is humorless. “I can’t very well lug my clubs around by myself.”

  “Can’t you just hire someone else?”

  “It’s not that easy. Caddies are hard to come by.”

  An idea hits me. “You should hire Mark. He has nothing better to do.” When she frowns, I add, “His company went under. He’s been following me around like a mother hen. You’re the distraction he needs.”

  “Caddies are trained.”

  “He’s an excellent golfer,” I insist.

  “There’s more to being a caddy than knowing how to play the game.”

  This idea keeps sounding better and better in my head. I’m quick with a response. “But you said yourself, the season is over. This is for charity. What harm could it do?”

  She exhales. “I’ll think about it, but you have to do something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The last game of the pennant is tonight, and Ryder is starting.”

  “I know. I’ve gone to each of his games.”

  She stares at me. “I know. Which is why I can’t understand why you are giving him the silent treatment.” When I open my mouth to explain, she cuts in, “It doesn’t matter to me. You should explain to him. Anyway, when they win, there will be a party. You should come.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Getting to her feet, she says, “I hope you will. I’ll text you the details. And remember one thing, a guy like my brother won’t be alone forever.”

  I nod and walk her to the door. That’s the risk I’ve taken over these last several weeks.

  “About that sex club. You never took me, and my season’s over.” She winks.

  “You still want me to?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  After she’s gone, I head downstairs to talk to Sam. Although, I’m not exactly sure where I’ll end
up, there are a few things I do know. The bar is hopping because of the game tonight. He asks me to come back later. I knew things would be busy. I hadn’t expected the rush to come on so early. Then again, this is the first time we have a hometown team from the Carolinas in the World Series.

  Instead, I think about traffic and the two and a half hour drive to the stadium and opt to use my plane to fly me into town and a car service to the stadium. I get ready and put Ryder’s jersey on and pull my hair back.

  My seat behind the plate costs more than my annual salary at the bar. The fact that I had the money to spend disconcerts me. I’m still not used to the wealth that has befallen me.

  The pre-game show includes having the players out signing autographs for kids and fans alike. I pull my hat down and try not to be seen when he nears the area in which I’m sitting. But I have nothing to worry about. The kids and women getting him to sign their jerseys is enough for him not to notice me.

  I try not to let jealousy get the best of me. He’d been mine, but I’d given him up.

  “It’s a shame you’re single,” I hear a woman practically yell to him. “You really shouldn’t be.”

  “I shouldn’t,” he says, to the delight of all the women who hear him.

  Turning away, I’m grateful I tucked my hair under my hat. I hope the jeans and combat boots I wear will throw him off, and he won’t figure out it’s me. Besides, he is over twenty feet away.

  By the time the game begins, long after the players go back inside to the locker rooms, I’m full of beer and a hotdog. I’ve been hit on and had drinks rain down on my arm as people who are already sloshed jostle in the chaos that is the first playoff game.

  After the crowd dies down when the players take the field, everything is silent. Ryder enters, and everyone gets to their feet. The whole time, I don’t yell or cheer. That’s the plan for the entire game. I don’t want him to lose his concentration. My stomach is in knots because I know what this game could mean for him.

  If they win the pennant, he’ll earn a place in baseball history. Remaining stoically nail-biting quiet turns out to be a good choice. He pitches another for the record books. A no-hitter that carries him to the ninth inning before the manager pulls him in favor of their closer.