Page 13 of Coach Me (Boston Blues #2)

Dex

There’s nothing quite like game days. Whether it was my game to pitch or not, I’ve always loved them. I had hoped that when I took this job that feeling would have stayed…I think I hoped for a lot out of this job that was really a long-fucking-shot.

Tonight’s game has been especially hard for many reasons. We have a great line-up of pitchers on the Blues—and even if I’m no longer a part of that, we have a good group. There’s just one in particular who I can’t fucking stand.

Jordan Clark is our middle reliever and while he’s got some solid throws, he’s cocky and makes rash game-time decisions that a pitcher like Will, myself, or really any of the other pitchers on this team wouldn’t make.

Ignoring signals from our catchers. Being too focused on guys stealing bases to focus on a decent pitch. Mouthing off to umps on calls. No matter what I try, or what the bullpen coach or anyone else says to help rein Jordan in—he doesn’t want to listen .

He was our last GM’s favorite reliever to call in for some fucking reason.

It was probably their matching holier-than-thou asshat personalities.

God, I’m so fucking glad he’s gone. He started out strong, but if you weren’t one of his chosen, you were practically walking on eggshells.

Olsson interfered more times than I can count.

If he hadn’t, I know for damn sure the majority of these players in the dugout would have been traded.

With another clink of a bat, I watch as the ball soars into right field, where, thankfully, it’s caught for our third out of the inning. Jordan threw one strike. One.

“God, take him fucking out,” I grumble to Olsson. “I already told the guys in the bullpen to get literally anyone else warmed up.”

Olsson gives a low chuckle. “Alright, but keep trying with him a little longer. Something’s got to get through to him eventually.”

As the guys filter into the dugout, I holler at Jordan. “Clark, that’s all for today’s game.”

Jordan spits out a bitter laugh. “I usually pitch two innings.”

“Yeah, and most pitchers usually throw more than one strike, so maybe you should go back to the bullpen and work on that.”

His nostrils flare. I know I’ve struck a nerve, but hey, it’s not a false statement.

“Yeah, well, since I’m apparently done for this game I think I’ll head to the clubhouse.”

Figures. I turn back to the field, completely dismissing him because I know I can’t stop him.

When he stomps by, Olsson claps my shoulder. “Mr. Personality today, aren’t we? ”

All I can manage back is a tight nod because, yeah, I know I’ve been a bit of an ass today. It has everything to do with the sunshiny blonde in the stands.

Without fail, with every change of inning, I do the other thing that has made this game insufferable: look over at Lucie.

Insufferable feels like the wrong word as I watch as she talks to Miles in the stands. My son's hands are making sharp throwing movements, and I can tell from here that he is critiquing the pitches he just saw.

Lucie nods along with that beautiful smile on her face. Her cheeks slightly rosy from the sun that’s been beating down on us all game.

I know she has sunscreen because she texted me asking where some was for Miles.

Maybe she didn’t use it because of her skin?

My ex used to have our bathroom full of different lotions and bottles of stuff.

I should ask her what kind of sunscreen she wants, or I guess I could get her a hat to keep in my office.

Beck’s face blocks my view of Lucie at the best fucking moment because, what the fuck was I just thinking?

“So, care to talk about what happened earlier today?” Beck asks.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I grunt out as I turn to look back to the field.

Beck tilts his head back as he raises his eyebrows and plasters that cocky smirk on his face. “Right, because you weren’t just looking into the stands for a certain blonde.”

“My son’s over there, asshole.”

Beck folds his arms over the edge of the dugout as we watch our shortstop send a beautiful hit down third base. “ No, of course. I just think Tripp is still feeling the third degree from earlier in the gym.”

I clench my jaw at the memory. I could lie to Beck and say it was solely from Tripp messing with Miles, but the guys roughhouse with him all the time. Hell, I think Miles might be a little too aggressive with them half of the time. As a five-year-old, cheap shots are not a thing.

My cut-in was purely spurred by the sound of Lucie’s laugh and the fact that it was Tripp who was enjoying it, not me.

“Aren’t you up to bat soon? Quit bothering me.”

“Nope, I was last batter last inning, so you can cut the bullshit at any time. Will didn’t pitch this game, so I know you know he’s in the bullpen?—”

“Drop it, Beck.”

Beck tosses his hands up then waves me off. “Okay, okay. That’s fine, it’ll be more entertaining when Callie tells Will about what happened, and he’ll ask you himself what’s going on.”

We hear another unmistakable sound of a ball and bat connecting as Adam’s hit goes into the back of centerfield.

I’ll admit, adding Adam and Will to our roster was a very good decision on Olsson's part, but the drawbacks are there too. Unfortunately, they don’t have anything to do with how they play baseball.

“Callie wasn’t even there.” I keep my voice low. Will and Adam may not be around us, but it’s not lost on me that we’re still in the middle of a fucking game.

Beck hits my shoulder, clearly not caring about being low-key. “Dex, come on, you seriously don’t think Callie and Lucie aren’t going to talk to each other? Callie has already asked me why you freaked out on Tripp in the gym. So maybe, if you tell me something, I can help you out. I’m your bridge!”

“Fucking hell, lower your voice,” I mutter.

God, he’s just as relentless as Callie. No wonder they’re friends.

“I may have met Lucie before I knew who she was, okay? I thought she was cute. I halfway, for a second, thought about asking for her number. But then I remembered I’m a single dad with an insane schedule so I didn’t.

It’s just been a little difficult to separate the new connections.

” That’s a major downplay of what happened, but Beck gets what he gets.

“Ahh, now it’s starting to make sense. You mean, the first girl you’ve even thought of attempting to move on with after your divorce ends up being our teammate’s sister?”

I don’t correct him on the first half, because that’s exactly what coffee shop Lucie was, but the second part… “I mean, the much younger sister of a player I coach, who is now my fucking nanny.”

Beck huffs a laugh. “Alright, I’ll admit the working for you part could complicate things a bit.”

“Just that part? I think I named some other important points.”

“Not from my point of view. A player’s sister?

Hello, have you seen who Will takes home every night?

Ask Adam if you missed it. And younger? Yes, but Lucie is also an adult.

A very mature one, if I can add without it being weird.

I’ve been to the game nights Callie hosts.

I don’t think the maturity difference between you and Lucie matches the age gap. ”

I know he’s right, hell, I had the same thought earlier today. “Can we possibly drop this, considering we’re in the middle of a game?”

Beck chuckles as the umpire calls our final out in the inning. “Ah, saved by the inning, I suppose.” Beck picks up his glove and hits me on the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

Fuck, I can already tell this conversation was a mistake. Just like the quick glance I immediately give my sunny nanny in the stands.

We won tonight, barely. Changes over this season have made a huge impact, but it’s clear we still have things to work on.

The World Series isn’t out of the question, but we’re struggling to hold on to number three in our division right now.

We need to be in the top two to avoid battling it out in wild-card games.

I hold off until after the postgame meeting to go find Miles. Lucie texted that they were hanging out in Callie’s office, and I know better than to try to pull him away from that.

Hell, that’s just what I’m telling myself to make me feel better about leaving him with them so I can prepare to see Lucie again. Damn it, she’s going to move in with us tomorrow—I’ve got to nip this attraction in the bud.

Walking down our hall, I can hear the unmistakable sound of my son’s laugh. Hearing Callie’s next, a small pit forms in my stomach when I don’t hear Lucie’s.

Rounding the corner into Callie’s office, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, but I now know the reason I didn’t hear Lucie’s laugh as I see her standing, juggling three baseballs.

Miles claps his hands as he starts to chant her name, but when Lucie’s eyes catch mine, she catches all three balls in her hands and tucks her chin low. I can’t exactly tell if the redness on her cheeks is from the sun or if she’s blushing.

Miles lets out a groan. “Lucie, keep going!”

Callie shakes Miles’s shoulder lightly. “Party’s over, kid. Dad’s here.”

Miles whips his whole body around in his chair and his eyes light up. “Dad, you’re here! Finally!”

I take the two steps needed before picking my son up out of the chair. One day, he’ll be too big for this type of hug, but until then, I’m going to take full advantage.

Miles’s arms squeeze tightly around my neck. “I missed you.”

My hold gets a little tighter and the guilt from not getting him sooner hits hard. “I missed you too.”

“Oh, don’t let him fool you too much, Dex, he was pretty entertained by Lucie’s hidden talent,” Callie says with a laugh.

Glancing back to Lucie, her cheeks are still red and her eyes avoid mine as she sets the baseballs down on Callie’s desk.

“Not a hidden talent, just usually a crowd pleaser amongst children.” Lucie’s voice is barely above a whisper as she tucks the strands of her hair behind her ears and looks toward Callie.