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CHAPTER ELEVEN

SILAS

“All right, guys. Take it easy this weekend, and I’ll see you back here early Monday morning,” I told my team as they filtered into the locker room after the last practice. I was a little jealous as I watched them pack their gear from the lockers, as I’d been one of them this time last year, gearing up for a new season.

I missed a practice grueling enough to feel a good kind of sore as you collapsed in sweat at the end. Pushing my body to its limit had made me feel powerful and, although we’d all been advised to know better, invincible. After a lifetime of depending on my body to excel, I didn’t know who I was anymore.

That uncertainty made being in an entirely new place in a very different job that much worse.

I still worked out to stay healthy and manage the dull pain in my knee, but leading a ball club had already brought on a different kind of exhaustion.

When I was playing, I had to trust my teammates, but I’d only had to worry about me, my focus on the game, and what they’d expected from me.

Now, I had to put together a human puzzle. In the short time I’d watched the guys play, I had to figure out where each one fit and how to use the skills I’d seen from them so far in the best ways to move us forward.

It was a shit-ton easier to be the puzzle piece than the one flipping them all, trying to get them to fit.

I turned my head to Nate’s huff behind me.

“Don’t worry about me.” His gaze flicked to mine, an arrogant curve on his lips. “You can save the coaching.”

“Rest the shoulder,” I said, ignoring Nate’s dismissal. “Opening day is next week.”

“I’m aware. And the shoulder is fine. I know what I have to do?—”

“Lee will take a look on Monday morning. Report to his office before the field. Have a good weekend.”

He glared at me before he slammed his locker door shut and headed for the showers.

Most of the team was open to suggestions and respected me from my recent time as a player, but Nate Becker made sure to point out every time I tried that he didn’t want my advice on anything.

I wasn’t sure if it was because the old manager let him coast and never put him in his place or that I took away the spotlight. I’d gladly forgo the attention if I could and let him have it all, but that wasn’t in the cards for me at the moment. I had to play this up as much as I was told to.

I’d played with some of the biggest names in baseball in my career, but I never cowered to egos. This guy was talented but cocky enough to keep getting in his own way, and he would double down every time I mentioned the hitting slump he’d run into at the end of the last season. He had every excuse and blew off any suggestions I made to turn it around.

Fans wanted a player to produce, and his pretty face couldn’t save him at the plate if he kept missing the ball. Team superstar status or not, I had no problems taking him out of the lineup or moving him down if his stats didn’t improve.

“Any good plans, Coach?” Ricky Ruiz, our twenty-three-year-old first baseman, asked me as I shifted to leave. He was our youngest player, starting on the Bats last year as a new draft. He had a ton of promise and charisma but wasn’t full of himself.

That combo was what gave players longevity in this game, but it wasn’t something that could be taught. You either were that—or were knocked down a few pegs until you became that.

“Some promo work for the team, maybe unpack. Nothing exciting,” I said and smiled, lifting a nonchalant shoulder as I headed out.

My promo work was with Rachel, and while I’d reminded myself all fucking day that this was just a professional interview and to stop looking forward to it so damn much, I couldn’t be convinced.

“Heading out?” Lee caught up to me after I padded down the long hallway from the field to the inside of the stadium on the lower level.

“Yeah, I have that interview in Park Slope.”

“Ah, that’s right.” Lee nodded. “With the pretty reporter,” he said, lifting a brow.

“She’s not a reporter. She’s a writer for the PR agency. She said she won’t write anything I don’t want her to.”

“I’m sure,” Lee said with a slow nod. “I caught the way she looked at you when you were introduced. She must be part of the fandom.”

I shoved his shoulder when he snickered.

“She’s not. I’ve met her before.”

“Wait, you what?”

I groaned when Lee stilled and stepped in front of me.

“So, all that tension I spotted simmering between the two of you was from memory.”

I grimaced before I could help it.

“You spotted tension?” I asked in a whisper.

“Shit.” His eyes flew open. “Did you date one of the PR people?”

“No. Well, not exactly.”

I guessed Rachel and I had gone out on a date that day, even if we hadn’t called it one.

I didn’t know what to call what had happened between Rachel and me then or what was going on with us now, much less explain it.

“We met and had a great night. Then resolved not to take it further because neither of us has time for it.”

“And now you have to work with her? Didn’t Kent say she’s going to write a series of pieces for us? What a way to hit the ground running.”

“Listen,” I said, sighing out a frustrated gust of air. “I don’t want to get her into trouble or have anyone think?—”

“Si, come on.” Lee shook his head. “You know me. I’d never say anything. And while I’m giving you shit right now, I’m happy for you.”

“Happy this job got even more complicated for me?” I sputtered out a laugh.

“You’ve been alone for long enough. Blamed yourself for long enough. I like that this woman is putting some wind back in your sails.” He slapped my arm.

I’d been alone long enough for my ex-wife to already be remarried and living a whole new life. Our divorce had only been final for a year, but we’d been living separate lives months before that. When I’d heard a couple of months ago, I hadn’t been upset she’d found someone else, but it had highlighted how stagnant my life had been since we’d split, both professionally and personally.

Other than the afternoon a beautiful woman punched me in the stomach and knocked me on my ass. Seeing her again had only reminded me how I hadn’t recovered.

“I was just surprised to see her, that’s all.” I shrugged, trying for aloof even though Lee would know I was full of shit.

“Well, I was on the pretzel line right next to where they pulled you both aside. Kent was too eager to blow up the Bats on socials to notice all the pining.”

“I’m not pin—” I trailed off when he narrowed his eyes. “I only knew her for a day. A very fucking amazing day. But I can’t.”

“Why can’t you? I don’t get it.”

“I’m on the road all the time. I can’t be anything for anyone right now or maybe ever. I’m over forty, and I’m figuring shit out.”

And still terrified to make a commitment I’d fail at again. Agreeing to see a woman again wasn’t a commitment, but that fear of getting attached to someone and letting them down was too raw and potent to shake off.

“Who isn’t? I’m heading to see my little girl in a few, where she lives with my mother, sister, and brother-in-law because her father has to travel too much for work. Figuring shit out is a process with no time or age limit, and we’ve all got a long way to go, dude.” He slapped a hand on my shoulder. “I’d better get going. You enjoy your interview.”

I had to laugh. Of all the PR events the Bats would make me do, I was certain this was the only one I wouldn’t have to force myself to enjoy.

No matter how I wasn’t supposed to. Because what could come of it? Our situations were still the same, regardless of whether we stumbled upon each other in our daily, real lives now.

Maybe that was why I was looking forward to this so much. After wondering about her for so long, I was happy to finally get my own answers about Rachel, even if she would be the one interviewing me.

It wouldn’t end the same way as our last meal had. I couldn’t take her back to my hotel room and fuck her until we were both senseless. And if I was going to get through this evening, I’d need to work on forgetting that, along with the already crushing disappointment of walking away—again.