Axel nicked the edge of third base with his cleat, then started for home stretch. Any second, the ball would sail past him, right into the catcher’s mitt, which was currently hovering over home plate.
The crowd was screaming, against Axel of course, but he used the momentum to push himself harder. His teammates in the dugout were screaming too, none of it decipherable.
Then Axel saw it. A sphere of white flashing beneath the massive stadium lights. The catcher caught the ball a split second before Axel crashed into him.
Axel thudded to the ground, and the crowd’s roar muted. He felt a dull pain in his head, and he kept his eyes closed for a second as the pain moved from his head throughout the rest of his body.
“Safe!”
The Sea Rays booed, and the Sharks dugout erupted into cheers.
Someone grabbed Axel’s arm, and he opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times to clear the blurring.
“You okay?” It was the umpire.
“Yeah,” Axel said, rising to his feet, the umpire still holding onto his arm.
A couple of Axel’s teammates gathered around, asking him how he was. “I’m fine,” he said, feeling grumpy because, one, his head hurt, and two, he didn’t want to be babied. If the coach thought he was injured, then he’d pull Axel.
He hurried into the dugout, and took a long drink of water, then grabbed his mitt. While jogging to the field, his head throbbed, but his vision was fine. He was good. Time to win the game.
Nolan was pitching and struck out the first batter.
“Nice job, Nole!” Axel called out. He did a quick scan of the nearest stands but still didn’t see Brighton.
Maybe she hadn’t made it after all.
Last night, after he’d picked up her mom—Carol West—Axel had been fully entertained by a woman who talked a mile a minute. First she gushed over the miracle that he happened to be in town and happened to be friends with her daughter. Then she gushed over the fact that the airline had confirmed she had a noon flight. She continued on with her experiences in Mexico, threw Phil under the bus more than once, then added that she was the former member of an online dating service and would be renewing her membership once she returned home and filed divorce papers.
It was quite the one-sided conversation.
“Do you think you can give me a ride back to the airport?” she’d asked after Axel made sure she’d checked into the hotel okay.
Since Axel didn’t have to be on the field until 5:00 p.m. the next day, he agreed. That morning Carol West was much quieter than the middle-of-the-night Carol West. She looked tired and worn, more her age than the bubbly personality from the night before. Her parting words to Axel were, “When you get back to Seattle, if you get me one of those box seats, I’ll come to your game.”
Axel had smiled, but said little.
Man, the woman could talk. And the strange thing was that she only talked about herself the whole time and never mentioned her daughter.
“Strike three!” the ump yelled, and Axel refocused on the game. Nolan had now thrown out two batters.
He’d called Brighton after her mom was settled, and she groaned at the things he told her. Brighton kept apologizing too, but Axel said that all moms had their quirks, and he wasn’t worried about it. Then, that morning, she’d texted him around ten, right after he’d dropped off her mom at the airport.
I’m taking a sick day, she said. I’ll see you at your game.
Axel had grinned the entire drive back to the hotel. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. He just had to win this game, then they could finally spend time together.
“Ball three!” the umpire called. “Full count!”
Axel studied the batter. LaRose, second baseman for the Sea Rays, had dropped his lousy batting average, and Axel was surprised the Sea Rays coach had put him in the lineup. Big Dawg was in the batter’s box, warming up. “Come on, Nolan,” Axel called. “Let’s end this.”
Nolan threw an impressive curveball, and LaRose swung just under the ball.
“Strike three!” the ump called.
Axel smacked his fist into his mitt. “Yes!” On the way to the dugout, he clamped a hand on Nolan’s shoulder. “Nice job, man.”
“Thanks,” Nolan said, his face beaming.
Once in the dugout, Axel downed four aspirin with some water.
The Sea Rays put in a different pitcher, but Javier soon began to crumble. By the time Axel was up to bat again, the Sharks had scored, and both Dice and Ricky were on base. From the outfield, Big Dawg was hollering stuff, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Tension was high, and Axel knew it was because he was in the batter’s box. A home run now would decimate the Sea Rays.
The crowd roared as Axel stepped up to home plate.
“Go back to splitting lumber, Axe Man!”
But Axel ignored the heckling and kept his gaze and focus on Javier. This pitcher had a wicked curveball, and Axel had watched it repetitively. He’d hit off Javier more than once.
Axel stretched his arms, then touched his gold chain with his left fingers. He knew he wasn’t going to swing on the first pitch, because he needed to see what Javier was going to send.
“Strike one!” the umpire called.
“Would you like fries with that?”
“I’ve seen better cuts at the deli!”
Axel stretched his arms, touched his gold chain, then moved into position.
The second pitch was another curveball, and Axel swung in the opposite arc, which made the ball do exactly what he wanted it to do. Cut high above right field—too far and fast for the right fielder to get the ball in time. Axel was on second base before the ball made it to the infield. Both Dice and Ricky had made it home, scoring two runs.
Axel was breathing fast, both from his sprinting the bases and from the throbbing in his head.
Then the pain struck, hard and fast, dropping him to his knees.
Sounds muted around him, and he was dimly aware of someone shouting. Or more than one person shouting.
He tried to focus his eyes, but things were blurry. Someone, or maybe it was two or three people, carried him off the field. Noise and faces congregated around him, and he wanted to tell everyone to chill out. He was fine. He had two more bases to run.
But then the night sky was replaced with the underground ceiling of the stadium.
Someone was shining a light in his eyes, and he lifted his hand to knock it away.
“Easy there,” the guy said, and Axel recognized the voice as belonging to Mangum, the team trainer and medic.
“Stop with the light,” Axel ground out, his voice sounding strangely hoarse.
Mangum chuckled. “I think you’ll be okay, but you’re going to the hospital for an MRI.”
“Right now?” Axel rubbed at his eyes and was finally able to focus on the dark-haired Mangum.
“Yep, they’re waiting for you.”
“Will do it in Seattle,” Axel said. “There’s two more innings.”
Mangum heaved a sigh. “Let’s go, big man. I’m coming with you.”
Axel sat up on the padded table he’d been lying on in the locker room. Dizziness washed over him, and he closed his eyes.
Mangum gripped his arm. “Got it?”
Axel opened his eyes and swung his legs over, then stood. “I’m good.” But he wasn’t good; he was dizzy, and his head still throbbed. He couldn’t believe he’d passed out on second base. Where was Brighton, and what was she thinking? His mom had probably been watching too, maybe his sister.
“I need my phone,” he said.
“Someone will get your stuff and bring it,” Mangum said in a no-argument voice. “We need to get you checked out first at the hospital. Everything else can wait.”
Axel kept his eyes closed most of the ride to the hospital. He protested when a nurse wanted him to sit in a wheelchair, and she finally relented, following close by him as he walked to the MRI room.
“What’s the score?”
he asked the nurse at one point, but the petite, silver-haired lady only shrugged.
After the MRI, he was led into some sort of holding office. He sat in the chair, although there was a bed in the room too. The nurse brought in some juice, and he drank it down. “So what’s the verdict?” he asked.
“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said, then left him alone.
“Am I supposed to be alone if I have a concussion?” he called out to the closed door.
Just then, the door opened, and Mangum stepped in.
“You okay?” the trainer asked.
“This is seriously overkill,” Axel said.
Mangum was nonplussed and perched on the edge of the bed.
“Who won?”
“We did, five to one,” Mangum said. “Thanks to your hit.”
Someone knocked on the door. A woman in her fifties, wearing scrubs, stepped in. “I’m Dr. Liv,” she said, glancing from Mangum to Axel. “How’re you doing, Mr. Diaz?”
“Is Liv your first name or last name?” Axel asked.
She pursed her lips and folded her arms. “You have a mild concussion, Mr. Diaz. Exasperated by dehydration. No baseball for two weeks, then after a follow-up appointment with your regular physician, you can be reevaluated.”
Axel stared. “Two weeks?”
“Minimum,” Dr. Liv said, emphasizing the word. She turned her steely gaze on Mangum. “Any questions?”
“No, ma’am,” he said. “I mean, Doctor.”
One of her brows lifted, and it was clear she wasn’t saying all she wanted to. “Great, I’ll order the discharge papers, and then you’ll be free to go.”
Axel stood. The dizziness was still there, but not as strong. “I can go?”
“Once the papers are signed,” Dr. Liv said.
When the doctor left, Axel shooed Mangum out. “Go make sure she gets those papers. I’m not sitting here all night.”
Mangum nodded and left the room. Axel sighed and looked about the room for a phone. There was nothing. His mom was probably freaking out. He sat back on the chair and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking a massage was in order. Then a familiar voice filled the hallway outside, and seconds later, Big Dawg opened the door. Right behind him was Brighton.
“Dude,” Big Dawg said. “You stole the show tonight, then kicked our butts. Don’t know how y’all did it.” He set his hand on Axel’s shoulder, scanning him from head to foot. “So are you gonna live, or what?”
“I’m fine,” Axel said, his gaze cutting from Dawg to Brighton. Her face was pale, and she had her lips pressed into a tight line. She was looking at the floor. “A mild concussion. In two weeks, I’ll be hitting off Javier again.”
Dawg chuckled. “I’ll let him know. Man, you freaked everyone out. Glad it’s not more serious.”
“You know me,” Axel said. “Hard head.”
Brighton still hadn’t looked at him. Her dark hair was braided over one shoulder, and she wore a flower-print blouse. No Sharks T-shirt this time. Her light-pink capris hugged her curves, and it looked like her toenails were painted the same color.
“I’ll fill in the Six Pack,” Dawg said. “I think they set the world record for number of texts sent in a single hour.”
“Thanks, man,” Axel said, dragging his gaze from Brighton and standing. No dizziness. That was progress, right? “Can you give us a minute, Dawg?”
Big Dawg glanced at Brighton, then back to Axel. “Oh, yeah, right.”
When Dawg left, Axel crossed to Brighton where she stood near the wall, like she didn’t know whether she wanted to be inside the room or out.
She finally met his gaze as he approached. Her violet eyes were wet with tears.
“Hey,” he whispered.
She lifted a hand to his face and lightly traced his cheek and jaw. He was likely banged up, but he didn’t mind her touch.
“Two weeks?” she asked.
“I have to meet with the doctor in two weeks for another checkup,” he said in a careful voice, watching her closely, “but I should be good to go.”
She nodded, and a tear slipped onto her cheeks. She moved her hand down his neck, then rested it over his heart. “You’re really okay?”
“I’m really okay,” he said. “Sorry for all the craziness.”
CHAPTER 22
Brighton hadn’t wanted to cry in front of Axel, but when Cole had left the hospital room, her tears materialized. Tears she’d somehow held back when she watched Axel collapse on second base. She didn’t think she breathed for a full minute, and her emotions had gone crazy when she watched him get carried off the field.
Brighton had left her seat and hurried to the part of the stadium where he’d been taken, but security wouldn’t let her pass. She went to the parking lot, trying to find any clue of what was going on. There was no ambulance though, and she hoped that was good news. Was Axel just in the locker room?
No matter who she talked to, there was no way to get to him.
So she’d waited until after the game, and as soon as she saw Cole Hunter coming out of the stadium, she hurried to him.
Together they rode in his Ferrari to the hospital. He’d at least gotten the information that Axel was awake and talking and had been taken to the hospital as a precaution. In another circumstance, she might have enjoyed her first ride ever in a Ferrari, but her stomach was sick with worry.
She couldn’t forget the image of Axel standing on base one moment, then lying on the ground the next. It was what had happened to her father... in their backyard when she was seven. Her father had had a heart attack, and although the paramedics got him breathing again, he’d passed away later that day at the hospital.
And seeing Axel on the ground, unresponsive...
“Brighton,” Axel said, moving closer and pulling her from her torturous thoughts. “Don’t cry. I’m fine. Really.”
She met his intent gaze and found that his gold-brown eyes had missed nothing. She wiped at her cheeks, but the tears wouldn’t stop. He had a concussion. Not a heart attack. He was standing, walking, and talking normally. Yeah, his baseball uniform was dirty and torn, and he had some scrapes on his face and arms, but he was fine.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not a crier. It’s just that... You...”
Axel cradled her face, his fingers warm and callused and capable against her skin. He kissed her forehead, then lingered.
She closed her eyes. She was supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. “I was with my dad when he collapsed and had a heart attack,” she explained in a trembling voice. “My dad didn’t make it. So when I saw you... on the ground—” Her words choked off.
Axel pulled her into his arms, and she held on to him, pressing her face against his warm neck. He smelled of spice and perspiration and grass. She could feel his heart beating against her, his torso warm and solid...
“I’m sorry I scared you, babe,” he said next to her ear. “And thanks for coming to the hospital.”
She couldn’t speak; she could only breathe him in.
Big Dawg’s voice sounded on the other side of the door, talking to someone, maybe a nurse.
Brighton drew away from Axel, not wanting to be hanging all over him when his friend came back inside. She wiped away the last of her tears before Cole came in.
Right behind Cole was a nurse holding a clipboard and a cell phone.
“Sign this, Mr. Diaz,” the nurse said. “Then you’re free to go.”
“I’ll get you back to the hotel,” Cole said, then looked at the nurse. “I can keep the midnight vigil so he doesn’t go into a coma.”
“I don’t think it’s that serious, sir,” the nurse said.
Cole just winked at her, and the older woman blushed.
“Is that my phone?” Axel asked.
“Sure is.” Cole handed it over. “And your wallet.”
Axel put both in his pockets. Then he grabbed the clipboard and signed his name in a few spots. He gave the clipboard to t
he nurse. “Thank you, ma’am.”
The nurse went over the precautions he needed to take, and with each one she listed, Brighton felt her heart rate go up a notch.
“Are you okay to walk, man?” Dawg asked. “Or do you want a wheelchair?”
“Funny.” Axel grasped Brighton’s hand and pushed through the door.
“I guess we’re leaving, then,” Cole said, following after. “Do you need a ride?”
“Yep, thanks for offering,” Axel said, continuing down the hall and following the exit signs. Apparently he didn’t want to spend another second in the hospital.
When they reached the hospital entrance, Cole’s red Ferrari was right where he left it, parked front and center like he owned the place. And from Axel’s explanation of how wealthy Cole was, Brighton guessed he probably did own a hospital or two.
Brighton slowed her step. There were only two seats in the Ferrari, plus she was going to a different hotel. “Hey, I’m going to call an Uber. I should get back to my hotel anyway. I have to leave pretty early in the morning.”
Axel hesitated, glancing at Cole, then he turned to Brighton. “No, come with me.”
Brighton glanced over at Cole.
He grinned, then started to whistle and headed toward the Ferrari. Just before he slid inside, he said, “I’ll let y’all work this one out.”
Axel’s gold-brown eyes never left hers as he drew her closer. “One hour.”
Brighton was tempted, but she knew that it would be more than an hour. Plus with Cole Hunter in the mix, it wouldn’t really be time with Axel anyway. She was exhausted from all the emotions over the last two hours and needed to make sense of why she’d been so crazed with worry. It wasn’t like she was in love with this guy... or whatever.
“I really should go,” she said. “We can talk on the phone though. I’ll call you later tonight.”
“Kind of like that soy ice cream you left in my freezer in case I missed you?” he said in a low voice.
She gave him a small smile. How did he manage to make her heart race with just a few words? “I don’t want to be a third wheel, plus you need rest.”
Axel rubbed his thumb over her hand. “If anything, Cole will be the third wheel.”
Charming the Shortstop Page 16