Once the season ended he was heading back to Tampa. He hadn’t yet given up on helping Alyssa. When he was able to put that period of his life firmly behind him, Nick could make a more forceful move in Abby’s direction. Assuming, of course, no man stood in his way by then.
That was a risk. He didn’t like taking risks, especially in a situation like this, but his hands were tied. Laying a thick foundation of friendship was probably the best way to keep her close. Figuring out how to bind his hands and a few other parts of his anatomy was probably a wise goal.
Fourteen hours later he struggled though another dry spell at the plate. Other than a base on balls in the bottom of the fifth, he had come up empty. This time the team walked away with a loss, which soured the return trip home to Boston. Stepping into the parking garage, he spotted Kevin loading up his truck two spaces down from Nick’s F-150.
“Nothing I hate more than dropping a game in New York,” Kevin said, slamming the tailgate on his truck closed.
Nick nodded. “Well, buddy you can toss a lot of the blame this way. I pretty much sucked.”
“Nah, you only sucked at bat. The rest of the time you played like you deserved a spot on the team.”
Nick grinned, appreciating the fact that the man next to him felt comfortable assailing him verbally. “Well, maybe if I brought along my personal fan club, I would have been preening like a peacock too.”
Kevin’s smile reached his eyes. “Yeah my ego takes a beating if she’s in the stands and I bomb like you did today. Not that I can remember ever choking quite so bad.”
“Thanks for not rubbing it in or anything. My mother left me a voice mail message asking if I forgot to drink my orange juice today.”
“Well, poor Mark had three consecutive messages from Abby. When his box was full, she sent him an email with her personal observations.”
“Damn, I’m guessing my name was somewhere in her critique.”
Kevin nodded. “Ya think? I’m betting you were all over her top ten. Hell she probably never even mentioned Bobby’s problems on the mound.”
Up until this moment, Nick had hoped Abby had missed television coverage of the series. The fact that he was actually embarrassed, and unable to hide it, made him visibly cringe.
“Don’t worry. Abby is still a woman. I’m sure after she tore apart your hitting woes she probably admired the way your ass looked behind home plate.”
“Cripes, you’re not half as amusing as you think.”
Kevin pulled the driver’s side door open. “Yeah, well I thought it might help motivate you tomorrow night.”
“What?” Nick asked. “The critique of my game or my anatomy?”
“Both,” Kevin quipped. “Just knowing she’s watching should do something for your game.”
Chapter Five
Those were words that came back to haunt him again and again. The next two weeks saw his batting average slip from a team-leading .321 to a disappointing .284. He was now officially in a slump. Extra time with the coaching staff, working through his stance, produced negligible results. Even Kevin refrained from cracking jokes about the situation.
By mid August his nerves were raw. Last night he had actually been benched, allowing his backup some playing time. Though it was presented to him as standard protocol for late season rest, Nick knew it had more to do with his anemic batting. Advice, solicited and unsolicited, was pouring in. The only one to remain mum was Abby. According to Mark she had virtually wiped his name from her vocabulary. Probably thought his problems were beyond even her scope.
Maybe that was why her appearance outside the club house that night was something of a shock. The sight of Abby leaning against an old concrete beam, in worn jeans and a gauzy black T-shirt was the first good thing to happen to him in days. The fact that she was probably waiting for Mark only dampened his mood slightly.
“I thought you might have jumped ship,” Nick said, deliberately boxing her into a corner.
“Yeah, well I’ve started to split my time between the Bisons and the Cape Cod League. Those boys are a little on the young side, but they’re hungry.”
Nick tried not to read anything into her statement. Knowing Abby, she was purposely trying to provoke a reaction. “Have mercy on those guys. A lot of them have never been away from their mamas before, so they’re probably craving a little maternal affection.”
She hissed. “Not a problem. I’m good with the role playing. Kind of adds to the excitement, don’t you think?”
“I’m afraid my game is off in a lot of areas. Want to help me hone those skills?”
“Don’t let the boys hear you. They’re liable to start calling your equipment rusty. After building a reputation as a killer on and off the field, you don’t want to see it all implode at once.”
Nick leaned in, tempted to bite the tongue that taunted him. “I’ve missed you these past few weeks. Thought you might be avoiding me and my tongue.”
She shrugged, causing the neckline of her top to dip. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to give him a good show. “Well, my recovery time isn’t what it used to be. I tried not to leave the house until I was confident I wouldn’t maul you in public.”
Nick laughed. It felt damn good to have a reason to smile again. “Can I take that to mean, you’re open to mauling me in private?”
Her whole frame visibly stiffened. “I think we’re flirting with crossing the line we set a while back. Not a good idea.”
“Agreed,” Nick said. “But I have missed you. You have a special knack when it comes to verbal abuse. Turned me into a masochist overnight.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
Nick turned at the sound of approaching voices. “You here waiting for Mark? I think he was still with Lopez.”
Abby shook her head. “Actually I stopped to see you. Wanted to make sure you didn’t spend the night in the batting cage.”
“Probably wouldn’t help at this point.”
“You may want to plug your ears,” Abby warned, moving her own hands in the direction of his face. “I think I might be able to help you with your drought.”
Nick shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. He probably shouldn’t have been pleased by the offer, but he couldn’t deny the sudden increase in his pulse.
“Interesting,” he said, reaching up to grab hold of her hands. “No one on staff has been able to figure it out. What makes you think you’ll have better luck?”
Now it was her turn to smile. “Well, Valente, I believe in taking a holistic approach. This is more than just an issue with your grip or timing.”
“You’re scaring me a little, McCabe. I hope your plan doesn’t call for voodoo dolls or Ouija boards.”
“So suspicious. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re going to be up to the challenge.”
He squeezed lightly on the warm hands he still held. “Careful with your word choice. My mind has been known to wander lately.”
She pulled one hand away and snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Stay focused, my little gnat. For the good of the team I’m willing to draw up a little action plan. You have to promise to stick with it though.”
Nick tried to hold back. Instead, he plowed ahead. “Is it too much to hope that you’ll play an interesting part in my therapy?”
“Duh. Honey, there are hundreds of amateur sex therapists in this park every day. Let them work on your horizontal problems. My plan requires no reclining positions.”
“I can think of plenty of things that work just as well standing up.”
A tell-tale blush appeared in an instant. “Don’t let Kevin say I’m not willing to take one for the team.” Before he could twist her words, Abby continued. “I have a reputation to maintain. So, you have to be willing to work if I put myself out there.”
Nick took a long look at the woman in front of him. Working with her could help cure him. Of course, it was just as likely to kill him. She was devastating. All the way from her precariously perched hair knotted
in a messy twist, down to her black toenails. Instead of looking like a grunge rocker she looked like a free-spirited temptress, not exactly the image he needed of the woman who possibly held the key to ending his slump.
“I’d suggest we seal the deal with a kiss, but I’m guessing you might start showing me your hitting arm instead.”
Abby’s smile dimmed. “I sort of consider you a friend, Nick. Do you think we can both stick to that?”
Nick wasn’t quite sure how well he could hold up his end of such a bargain. This, however, wasn’t the time for honesty. “Cupcake, my whole life is a pit of frustration right now. If you can help me solve my problems on the field, I’ll find a way to resolve my frustrations off the field.”
The expression on her face told Nick that she mistook the meaning of his words. He had no intention of looking elsewhere to scratch his itch. Seeking the company of any other woman would be like slapping a band aid on a major hemorrhage. Unfortunately coming clean with Abby wasn’t really an option. If she knew where his head was, she would undoubtedly run in the opposite direction.
“Good,” Abby said. “Let me come up with a game plan. You decide what kind of time you can devote over the next week and a half. Right now, since class doesn’t start up for another two weeks, I’m flexible.”
Flexible. One word and his mind already hit the gutter. Keeping images of Abby, particularly her flexibility, out of his head was about as challenging as connecting with a ninety-mile-an-hour pitch.
“I’m on it, coach,” Nick said. “You hungry?”
Abby snuck a peek at her ten-year-old mermaid watch. “It’s almost ten-thirty.”
Nick began to walk through the tunnel. “I know just the place. Phenomenal fries and if you’re a good girl, I’ll ask them to throw in a toy.”
Abby groaned. “My thighs don’t need the trans fat. Promise to order me apple slices with caramel dipping sauce and I’m game.”
“Consider it done, McCabe. Although if you’re open to feedback, I think your thighs are pretty damn…”
Her knuckles connected with his flank. “Stuff it, Valente. It’s just as easy for me to hit the drive through.”
“We’ll take your car,” Nick said, ignoring her mild rebuke. “You can drop me off at my place afterward. I’ll hook a ride back here tomorrow afternoon.”
Abby believed in following her instincts. Even when she knew that the end result was fraught with complications. Her offer to help Nick hadn’t been an impulsive act. No, she had spent the better part of the past week weighing the cons of intervening. Watching him suffer at the plate finally pushed her to a decision. She wasn’t a miracle worker. Far from it in fact. Sometimes an outside perspective, particularly from a woman whose only contact with a bat was the one she kept under her bed for protection, was enough to help a player turn the corner.
Convincing herself that it was all about the game was a personal challenge. Sharing a carton of fries, chicken tenders and a sundae with him while never mentioning baseball was tough to defend. Since the start of the season Nick had slowly scaled back on his cover-boy clothes. Tonight he had worn a grey cotton polo shirt with a pair of button fly jeans. His damp hair, devoid of hair gel, created an image much closer to her dream man.
What had surprised Abby the most had been his topic of choice. Instead of shop talk he delved right into tales of his family life, centering mostly on his mother and father. It wasn’t until a worker started hauling out trash bags that she realized they had literally closed the place.
He smiled. “We should make this our designated meeting spot. It suits you perfectly.”
She looked down at the chipped table, liberally covered with ketchup stains. Wads of chewing gum scraped her knees. Whatever his comment implied it wasn’t flattering.
“Other than the lighting, this is definitely five-star all the way,” Abby said, lacing her voice with false enthusiasm.
Nick picked up his Styrofoam cup. “Most women I know won’t step out of the car for anything less than a four-course meal.”
Her eyebrows reached her hairline. “Doesn’t this qualify? Chicken. Fries. Ice Cream. Oops… I guess you shorted me one course. Splurge on cookies next time.”
“Do you ever turn it off, McCabe? It’s exhausting just listening to you.”
That she agreed with. Unfortunately she ran on automatic with no shut-off switch in sight.
Nick reached out and grabbed her hand. “I wasn’t being critical. I happen to like this place. It’s relaxing.” Reaching for his last fry, he plopped it between her lips. “Besides your whole face lights up when you eat. That alone makes this my favorite place.”
Abby nibbled on her lower lip. She was terrible at reading signals. After a dozen years of dating it was still an enormous black hole. Last month had been stop and now it sounded like go. He probably didn’t even know what he wanted.
“We’d better scoot,” she said, loading the brown plastic tray with trash. “These kids need to get home before curfew.”
In a gallant gesture he grabbed the tray and headed off in the direction of the trash barrel. Abby wasn’t sure but she thought she heard the word scoot mumbled under his breath.
Nick liked the dark. The one room in his monstrous rental that he actually enjoyed resembled a bat cave. The glow of the flat screen provided enough light for him to see his beer can. He didn’t drink often. Tonight he wanted to relax, block out his problems both in and out of the park. When he had asked Abby to grab a bite to eat with him he had been acting on impulse.
Somewhere between April and August she had become his spark. He never talked about the important things, the real things in his life. Too much of his world was already sliced, diced and dissected by the media. Tonight he had broken his own rule, rambling on about his parents, his hometown, and his brief foray into delinquency. At the age of fourteen, spending twenty minutes at the police station had felt like an eternity. Riding his mini bike across the junior high lawn during cheerleading practice hadn’t seemed so inspired when he tried to explain it to his mother. Fortunately Abby’s reaction had been quite different. Yeah, the sight of tears pouring from her eyes had been a surprise. When her laugher stopped, she had the audacity to suggest his methods at attracting the opposite sex hadn’t improved much with time.
His gut clenched. He had thought about tasting her lips again. She would have let him. His feelings may have dwarfed hers, but Abby wasn’t immune. If he hadn’t actually liked her, he would have taken advantage of the moment. But that was the problem. He did like her. Admired her. Respected her. All in all it made seducing her impossible.
If he thought sex would alleviate his frustration he would be dialing the phone right now. Not Abby’s number. He had close to a dozen numbers shoved in his wallet. Some from the ballpark. Some from Kevin’s party. A quick tumble would provide a temporary cure but the drawbacks far outweighed the benefits.
One night stands inevitably left someone feeling used. In most cases it wasn’t Nick who walked away dissatisfied. Actually he had never craved anything beyond the moment. He chose partners who knew the score and who held limited appeal beyond the physical.
Thinking about other women almost seemed like a betrayal. That thought unnerved him. Abby was his friend, not his girlfriend or lover. Hell, she could be sleeping with some guy for all he knew. Though it was unlikely. He would know if she had started seeing someone. Casual sex seemed beyond her scope. In a strange way it was now beyond his scope too.
During the past decade he had played hard and he had settled down. Neither had been particularly fulfilling. Although the latter had left him more bitter than the former. His mother had known before he had ever put a ring on Alyssa’s finger. She hadn’t actually disliked his fiancée, just warned that they were ill suited. At the time he had attributed her hesitation as fear that Alyssa would somehow come between them. He should have known better. His mother was an astute woman, who well knew that she would always have the adoration of her only son.
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br /> He owed them a visit. As soon as the season wrapped up, he would arrange a trip. Maybe take his parents back to Rome. The year he had earned his first multi-million-dollar contract they all celebrated by flying off to Italy for two weeks. It had been the first time he had been able to indulge the two people who had spent a lifetime indulging him. Looking back seven years later it was still his most cherished memory. Although he would never admit that to his teammates who shared a World Series ring with him.
It was funny now to think about how his marriage had changed, at least temporarily, his relationship with his parents. No, the love never wavered, but the time spent together had greatly diminished. The one time he had suggested a trip that included his parents, Alyssa had practically choked on her tongue. It wasn’t dislike that limited gatherings, more like discomfort. Even his dad was a little on edge when he showed up with Alyssa for holiday celebrations.
Christmas in Bluemont hadn’t been Alyssa’s top choice. The first year of their marriage she had suggested they spend the holiday in Paris. Warning bells finally went off. The idea of spending the holiday anywhere but in Virginia floored him. He had been prepared to spend every other year with her parents in Charlotte. But France was never going to happen.
That first year they reached a compromise. One he didn’t actually care for, but saw little alternative. Instead of staying at his parents’ home they booked a suite at a nearby inn. The hurt in his mom’s voice had been undeniable. The time that they had actually spent together had been polite but strained. Nick had been miserable. His parents had been devastated. Alyssa had been oblivious.
That was the worst. At heart she was a decent person, with a normal amount of flaws. Unfortunately her sensitivity chip often went MIA. Those few occasions where he spent the time explaining how her actions impacted others she had been surprised and embarrassed.
The Catcher and the Lie Page 7