Erica stopped and gave him an exasperated look. “If you can turn cleaning your own bathroom into some sort of legitimate cultural experience worthy of a three-page paper, I’ll give you an assignment credit, okay?”
Sawyer grinned in victory, though he had no idea how he was going to manage it. “Okay, Teach. Watch and learn.”
CHAPTER 9
“Have I ever told you that I actually hate parties?”
“Once or twice, yeah. And you may have mentioned it on the drive over.”
“I was trying to drop a hint!”
Sawyer chuckled, nudging Erica as she stood almost awkwardly close to him instead of mingling with the other players and their families. Or significant others, as the case might be. “Yeah. I tripped over the hint.”
Erica glared at him, nudging back a little too hard. “So why are we here?”
He leaned over, his mouth brushing her ear. “Because these are my teammates and my friends. And you’re one of us now, sweetheart.”
A flash of her wrist landed a perfect smack against his chest, and he chuckled with a hint of a wheeze, rubbing the area tenderly.
“Knock it off,” she hissed, her cheeks flaming even as she smiled. “I may be your girlfriend, but it hasn’t been long enough for me to officially join this club. I’m here to support you, babe, but I’d much rather be at home in sweats, watching a movie with popcorn.”
Sawyer nodded, suddenly feeling much the same way. “Sounds great. Let’s make the rounds so we can get to that.”
Erica looked up at him in confusion. “I didn’t bring sweats with me, Skeet.”
He matched her look with his own. “I have sweats at the apartment. I don’t know if you knew this, but I really like sweats. And I tend to get a lot of them in my profession, so, conveniently, I have quite the collection.”
His girlfriend raised a brow, as she usually did when he teased her. “You may never get them back. I’m a bit of a hoarder with comfy clothing.”
“I’ll survive.”
They shared a smile, and she slipped an arm around his waist. “Sometimes I really like you, Sawyer Bennett.”
He leaned down again, this time to kiss her softly. “Sometimes I really like you too.”
“Aww, you’re the cutest couple I’ve ever seen.”
Sawyer rolled his eyes and turned to glare at Mace. “Really? With how you and Jess were after your wedding?”
Mace shrugged, grinning without shame in his golf polo. “Have to make it look good, Skeeter. I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh, do you want us to tamp this down?” Erica offered helpfully, gesturing between herself and Sawyer. “I wouldn’t want to start a competition here, if you’ve got a reputation.”
Sawyer snorted, then turned it into a fake cough, sipping his soda to cover it.
Mace ignored him and adopted a fond look as he considered Erica. “I like you.” He looked at Sawyer, jerking his thumb towards Erica. “I like her. Keep her, would you?” He winked at Erica and strolled away, calling out to Papa Jim about the number of ribs he was eating.
Keep her? Why wouldn’t he keep her?
Sawyer swallowed, his eyes widening.
Oh. KEEP her.
Keep.
He’d love to, quite honestly. This was so easy, so comfortable, and Erica understood him. She knew him, knew what he needed, and complemented him so perfectly.
So why hadn’t he told her everything yet?
His mind flashed back to dinner with Ryker and Grizz, and the back of his neck began to heat with guilt.
She needed to know. If he really wanted to keep her, wanted to tell her how he really felt…
He glanced around the house, filled with people inside and out, trying to find some place for privacy that didn’t involve a bedroom, bathroom, or pantry. Finally, he just took Erica’s hand and murmured, “Come with me?”
She nodded without question and let him lead her from the house, and the two of them just walked silently side by side down the street as the sun set over the Arizona horizon.
“Where are we going?” Erica asked, not sounding as though she particularly minded what his answer was.
Sawyer smiled at her, squeezing her hand. “You’ll see.”
The more he thought about it, the more he liked his current destination though. They’d passed it as they drove into Hanks’s neighborhood, and Erica had even commented on how fun it was. He hoped it would still be a fun place when all of this was over.
Soon enough, they were there, and Erica laughed softly. “The playground? Really?”
Sawyer nodded, smiling as much as he dared. “Come on. Get on the swing. I’ll push you.”
Erica did so, shaking her head as she still laughed. “I haven’t done this in years,” she commented as he pushed her gently.
“Me neither.” He swallowed with difficulty, his throat suddenly tight. “Erica, I need to tell you some things.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I figured as much. Come around so I can see you, please.”
That was fair. He moved around the swing beside her and came to lean against the pole nearby, looking down at the ground.
“Sawyer…”
He looked at her, swinging just the smallest bit now, smiling at him. “What?”
She nodded once. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
His attention returned to the ground, and he exhaled slowly once more. “I told you that I threw myself into baseball after my dad died, that I basically gave up my education and did everything I could to improve myself there.”
He saw her nod again, but it barely registered.
“I didn’t tell you that I felt pressure to provide for my mom and my sister, just like my dad had,” he admitted, his voice dipping with a strained emotion he hadn’t anticipated. “And the only way I could do that quickly was to get drafted. I had to cut out everything else in my life to make sure that I didn’t let my dad down, that I could take care of our family without him. He had never missed one of my games, had always believed I could be a better player than I thought I was, and suddenly he wasn’t there to tell me those things. To motivate me or advise me.”
Sawyer cleared his throat, fighting against the burning sensation there. This was all so much harder than he’d planned, but he couldn’t stop. Everything he had felt back then suddenly rose to the surface, ready to come spilling out of him with a recklessness that frightened him. “So I had to do it on my own. Baseball became my life and my business. I ignored absolutely everything else in my life except for baseball.”
He hesitated and shook his head with a wince. “Well, and my family. Rachel started hating me for trying to turn into her father. That didn’t last long, but I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know my dad had set things up nicely so that Mom and Rach would be okay, let alone that I would, and since I never told Mom what I was doing…”
The swing creaked softly as Erica continued to gently sway in it, but he barely heard her.
“College wasn’t fun anymore; you were right,” he admitted, his throat feeling raw. “It was a means to an end. I had a scholarship, so I took whatever classes would help my baseball career. Baseball wasn’t fun anymore; it was my ticket to becoming who I thought my father needed me to be. The man who could take care of the family, even if they didn’t need me to.”
He’d never told anyone all of this, and honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever really put it together in his mind for himself. But here with Erica, he could lay the pieces side by side and attempt to make sense of it, explain it, and maybe, just maybe, get over it.
He turned slightly, sliding a hand into his pocket. “I don’t think I really enjoyed baseball again until after I was drafted. I had a contract with Orlando, and I felt secure. Then suddenly it was fun again. I felt free from the burdens of pressure and expectation. I had a great rookie season, made some waves, and ensured I wouldn’t get dropped unless I really screwed up. Since I don’t screw up, I would be fine.”
&
nbsp; “Sure,” Erica murmured, still swinging a little. “You’ve always been very careful that way.”
Sawyer nodded and looked back at Erica, meeting her eyes steadily. “After that rookie season, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Until I remembered what I promised my dad before he died.”
The swinging stopped. “What?”
“I promised that I would finish my degree,” Sawyer told her, his voice suddenly going hoarse. This was the part, strangely enough, that he was most afraid to confess to her, of all people.
He straightened a little. “No one knows that, not my mother, not the Six Pack. Everybody knows I didn’t graduate, but no one knows why, and no one knows why I’m taking classes now. You and Mace are the only ones who even know about the classes at all.”
Sawyer managed a weak smile, and she returned it at once, instantly encouraging him to share more. “I decided to start taking the online courses, slowly working my way towards the degree again. But I’m not driven to finish. I should be, but I’m not. So long as I am taking classes, any classes, I’m working on my promise to Dad. The day that I finish, the promise will be fulfilled. And then I won’t have anything to prove. Anything to drive me. Any connection to Dad.”
He lowered his eyes again, his eyes burning, to his surprise. “And then what? I keep playing baseball. I keep improving, making money, living my dream.”
He snorted softly, a newfound bitterness seeping into this strange confession of his. “Living the dream. Does anybody know how hard it is to live your dream? The risk of failure is so much worse, and the pressure of it all is incredible. It doesn’t even feel like the dream sometimes, just my job. I love it; I will always love it, but…”
He shifted his attention to the sky, now streaked with colors of sunset. “It wasn’t my only dream. Leaving Belltown without you felt like a defeat I’d never recover from. I knew I had to, or thought I knew, but going into this dream life felt strange without you, once I looked up enough to realize I didn’t have a life anymore. And now you’re back, and I…”
He leaned his head back against the pole and met her eyes once more, feeling stripped bare and raw for her examination. “I couldn’t let this go any further without making sure you knew everything. About the past, about our breakup, about my classes… even about baseball. You mean enough to me to know it all.”
Erica stared back at him, her expression unreadable, her blue eyes filled with a light he couldn’t decipher. Her hands were clasped and resting on her thighs, her hair slung over one shoulder, one foot twisting very slightly in the dirt beneath it.
And she said nothing.
Slowly she inhaled, and he tensed, waiting.
“I love you.”
He blinked at her. What did she say?
Her perfect lips curved into a gentle, tender smile. “I love you, Sawyer. I knew it before you told me this, but now… I really, really love you.” She shook her head, blinking quickly, a hand going to her chest. “I can’t even…”
He didn’t let her finish, moving to her and taking her face in his hands, kissing her with all the relief, passion, and exhilaration currently coursing into every ounce of his being. He kissed her like there was no tomorrow, as if his life depended on it, as though she were everything.
Because she was.
Breathing was unnecessary, thinking was irrelevant, and existing was only through this connection. Only with Erica.
Only now.
She gripped the back of his neck in a vice, giving as good as he gave, and he wondered, briefly, if death could come from an implosion of too much emotion, too much sensation, or too much ridiculous good fortune.
“I love you too, baby,” he whispered, nipping gently at her lips. “So much.”
Erica sighed, rubbing her fingers against the back of his neck, then pulling him close for the tightest hug he could ever remember receiving.
And for the first time in several years, he felt whole.
He buried his face into Erica’s shoulder, gripping her hair, and reveled in the feeling.
Whole. With her.
Oh, yes, he was keeping her.
He was keeping this.
* * *
Sawyer hung over the dugout fence, warmup on, chatting with Adam, neither of them pitching today.
Erica could have watched him be this relaxed forever.
He was all smiles, laughing and teasing his teammates as they warmed up. She had no idea what he was saying, of course, and barely knew his teammates enough to even try to guess what they could be teased about. She knew the girlfriends and wives more than the players themselves, Mace aside, though she could honestly say she could identify the regular starters by name without help.
She laughed as she watched Adam and Sawyer attempt to spit sunflower shells at Mace as he walked by, earning them both vows of eternal punishment, or whatever threats Mace liked to toss out. Adam and Sawyer didn’t seem to be particularly concerned about whatever it was.
Those two…
Adam and Sawyer were about the same age, though Adam was from Montreal and had played ball at Stanford. The boys called him Indy, probably because his last name was Jones, and he’d taken to mimicking the motion of a whip at the end of a good inning. Sawyer had told her the guy even had the worn-looking leather jacket befitting the character, though he hadn’t brought it to Arizona, for obvious reasons.
Adam was just as mischievous as any of the Six Pack had ever been, and she wouldn’t be surprised if he got adopted as a bonus member one of these days. He was on the fast track to being considered for the All-Star team, so who knew what that would do for his association with the rest.
Once they were back in Ohio, she wondered what kind of antics Sawyer, Adam, and Mace would get up to together.
There was just no telling.
“Hi, Erica!” Hannah Jones greeted, waving excitedly as she came into the row to sit by her, bright-blond hair almost glowing in the light of day. The girl was tall, tanned, and trim, which made Erica a little sick, but she was also, hands down, the nicest woman Erica had ever met.
One of those women you want to hate but can’t hate, and you’re conflicted the entire time by their maddening perfection.
Apparently she was also a domestic goddess and a computer scientist, and she spoke French fluently.
Erica really, really wanted to hate her.
Did that make her a terrible person?
She shook off her thoughts and grinned, standing to give her a quick hug. “Hi, Hannah. Where’s Abby?”
Hannah grinned at the mention of her daughter, but waved a hand in the air before adjusting her Black Racer tank-top strap. “Oh, I’m letting her have a day with Grandma today. She was so excited, I just had to sacrifice bringing my two-year-old diva child to her daddy’s baseball game on a hot Arizona afternoon.” She widened her eyes and dropped down into her seat, crossing her long, exposed legs and dropping them into the row below them. “My gosh, can someone get me an adult beverage while I’ve got the chance to have one?”
Erica threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t have any of those, but I did manage to sneak chocolate in.”
“I love you,” Hannah gushed, holding her hand out. “You are my new best friend.”
“Oh good.”
They were soon joined by Jess, and the three of them laughed and chatted while they waited for the game to start.
“Did I hear that you’re an adjunct professor?” Hannah asked her as she tossed a candy into her mouth. “What does that even mean?”
Erica shrugged a shoulder. “Means I teach classes without being an official employee of the university, more or less. I don’t have a teaching degree, technically, though I did do an education minor.”
Jess frowned slightly. “I thought you worked for a museum.”
“I do,” she assured her. “History major, education minor. Almost a humanities minor too.”
“Overachiever,” Hannah muttered with a nudge.
Erica laughed
. “Indecisive, more like. I did a lot of tutoring in college, which is how I met Sawyer and his gang. I tutored them for a bit.”
“Ahh,” Hannah said with a nod. “And Sawyer was hot for teacher?”
Her cheeks flamed at once. “Oh, stop!”
Jess flashed a quick smile. “Tell the truth, Erica…”
Erica bit her lip, her cheeks absolutely burning now. “He might have been,” she whispered.
The girls squealed, clapping like kids, and Erica covered her face with a groan. “Oh my gosh…”
“Back to your job,” Hannah said quickly. “So your museum lets you teach too?”
Erica nodded, dropping her hands and hoping her face would cool soon. “As long as it doesn’t affect my work there, they don’t care. The supplemental income from Belltown is nice. Not enough to live on, obviously, but nice. I’m hoping that if I do well enough, it’ll look good enough on a resume to get me a real teaching gig in the future.”
Jess shook her head, munching on popcorn as she usually did at games. “Two jobs, multiple areas of study, farmgirl, tutor, and a hunky pitcher boyfriend. Hannah’s right. You’re an overachiever.”
“Guilty as charged,” Erica quipped, reaching for popcorn, then combining it with some chocolate as she tossed it into her mouth. “Oh well.”
They rose quickly for the national anthem, as did all the other fans, then stayed standing to cheer appropriately for the visiting team, their voices and applause much more exuberant when the Black Racers were announced.
Erica and the others sat as the Black Racers took the field. “Who’s pitching today?” she asked.
“Hanksy, I think.” Hannah squinted, then nodded. “Yep, that’s him.”
Right as she confirmed it, the announcer named the starting lineup, and she threw up her hands, shaking her head, making the others laugh.
Erica eyed the first batter, trying to size him up. “He looks intense…”
Jess nodded, still munching her popcorn. “Yep. He was at the Home Run Derby two years ago. Didn’t make it last year, has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about it.”
“How do you know that?” Hannah demanded.
Hitching the Pitcher (A Belltown Six Pack Novel) Page 11