Page 8 of Please Don’t Go (The Midnight Strike #1)

DANIEL

“Sparky.”

Focus. Quick. Set feet. Transition. Throw.

“Danny.”

Focus. Quick. Set feet. Transition. Throw.

“Daniel!”

Focus. Quick. I catch the ball as the machine shoots it at me, but I come to a complete standstill, before I set my feet at Vincenzo D’Angelo’s voice. The Head Coach for MCU’s baseball team.

Dropping the ball, I raise my shirt to wipe the sweat off my forehead and attempt to control my uneven breathing as I look at Coach D. He’s standing next to the machine and I’m assuming he’s turned it off since no more balls come my way.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I pant. “Have you been here long?” I ask as I bend down to grab my water bottle.

“What the hell are you doing here so late?” He cocks a thick dark brown brow, folding his arms against his chest.

“It’s not really that late.” I set my bottle down and grab the baseball I had dropped and toss it in the air.

It’s very late, close to twelve a.m. on a Sunday, but I felt restless at home. Since I found out four days ago that Josie kept the Post-it note, I’ve been on edge, waiting for a text from her. I know I’ll never get one, but I keep reaching for my phone more than I ever have.

I’m worried about her. Despite knowing she’s alive, I can’t get the image of her crumbling in front of me out of my mind. The one that haunts me the most though is her standing on the edge of the cliff.

Then there’s my family who text me—well, my mom and sister do; Dad’s quiet. He’s always quiet.

So, I came to the batting cages at the indoor facility at MCU to work on my footwork because I needed to decompress.

“Daniel.” He stares at me listlessly. “Get some fucking rest. I get you’re trying to prepare, but the last thing I need is you overworking yourself and getting hurt. We’re only a month away from the season starting. I swear to God, I will?—”

“That’s not going to happen. I promise I’ll leave now, I…” I sigh. Dropping the ball again, I stretch my arms over my head until my shoulders pop. Still, the pestering tension resides in my back. “Couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

Coach D levels me with a disbelieving look and just when I think he’s going to call me on my bullshit, he shakes his head. He blows out a weary breath and grumbles something.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He fixes his gaze on something else, and that’s when I realize he’s holding a bat.

But that’s not the only thing I notice. He’s gripping it hard, knuckles extremely white, face tinged with indignation, and eyes frayed with exhaustion.

“Is everything good?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a harsh breath. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re young, which means don’t be fucking stupid.” Now he stands next to me and motions for me to turn on the pitching machine. “Be safe because if you don’t, you’ll find a baby on your doorstep.”

I can’t mask the incredulous look on my face fast enough, and at my expression, he rolls his eyes.

Coach D’Angelo may be forty years old, but that hasn’t stopped anyone from shooting their shot or making thirst edits of him on social media. But I guess I get it. He’s fit, like really fit, always working out and doing things to stay in shape.

“This was years ago. I only have one daughter,” I know about his one daughter, everyone knows who she is, she’s the youngest player to be drafted into the NWSL.

“And let me tell you, she’s…” he grunts, rolling his eyes again as if he were remembering something.

“Just don’t be fucking stupid. Now go home before I really make you practice. ”

I don’t call his bluff because I’ve no doubt he means it. Grabbing my water, I’m rushing out a quick “good night” as I turn on the machine. As I walk out, I hear the loud smack of the ball against the bat and a string of Italian curse words.

I have no idea what that’s about, but I’d hate to be on the receiving end of his anger.

“I’m just saying tater tots are way better than hash browns,” Grayson states matter-of-factly as we enter S.S. dining hall.

Angel’s brows cinch, lip curling upward as he shakes his head in disagreement. “No, they’re not. Gray, you’re always on some stupid shit. Tater tots aren’t?—”

“I think they’re both good,” Kainoa, our Hawaiian teammate, intervenes, lifting a shoulder in a half shrug.

Gray and Angel stare at him judgmentally then fix their gazes on Noah and me, who haven’t said anything. We’ve stayed quiet because they’ve been going at it since six this morning and it’s now three in the afternoon. We’re all over it and couldn’t care less.

I also don’t usually entertain their bullshit because me agreeing with anyone besides Angel is an act of treason according to him. He’ll be whining about it for days and Gray will be gloating because he thrives on pissing Angel off.

“They come from potatoes. They all taste the same,” Noah boredly says as we stand in line for Chopt. “Now, shut up.”

They scoff, pinning him with a look of judgment, then shift their gaze to me.

“Like Kai said…” I glance away for a second, the corner of my eyes catching a black ponytail before I draw my attention back to my roommates and teammates. “They’re both…” I trail off, doing a double take on the black ponytail and the person it belongs to.

It’s Josie. Her hair is up in a high ponytail, swishing from side to side as she walks to one of the restaurants with a girl next to her, who’s a little taller than her.

“They’re both what?” I hear someone ask me, but I’m not sure who and I can’t bring myself to find out.

Josie is wearing the same stoic expression despite the girl next to her wearing the opposite. The girl is smiling big, talking about who knows what, but even though Josie isn’t, she’s attentively listening and nodding.

“Sparky?” Angel waves his hand in front of my face, breaking the trance that I’m in.

“What?” My attention is back on them, but I must’ve been staring for too long. Gray smirks, Noah looks disinterested, Kai stares at the girls, and Angel realizes it’s Josefine.

“Why are you staring at Wednesday?” Gray questions, green eyes shining with mischief.

I stare at him quizzically. “Wednesday?”

“Josefine. That’s what everyone calls her,” Gray explains. “You know, because look at her. Sure, she’s hot as fuck, but she’s always looking serious and her personality is nonex?—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap.

They stare at me, taken aback. Even Noah looks a little stunned when he finally shifts his eyes back to me.

I don’t ever raise my voice or lose my cool. I’m the fun one, always positive and boosting morale when I need to during practice or games, and I’m known to always be smiling. It’s actually why I’m called Sparky. Assistant Coach Adam Lewis said I spark energy everywhere I go.

Gray raises his hands in surrender. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t know there was something going on between you and Wed—Josefine. Wait, since when are you and Josefine a thing?”

“We’re not a thing; we have a class together. Just don’t talk about her like that. And Wednesday isn’t even all that bad. She’d kill you and not break a sweat.” I grin, hoping it’ll ease the tension coiling my body.

Just when I think it’s gone, it appears like it never left.

We’re not friends. I’ve extended my hand and have kept it extended for her, but I doubt she’ll ever take it.

Kai narrows his eyes in suspicion. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you two? You’re not using her to get back at Bryson?”

Now I’m taken aback, feeling more annoyed than shocked. “Why would you say that?”

“Because Josefine is Bryson’s ex,” Gray supplies like it’s something I should know.

That shocks me and I realize now why they were staring at me skeptically and bemused. Bryson isn’t only my teammate, but the guy Amanda cheated on me with. It feels like I’ve solved a puzzle I wasn’t aware I was piecing together.

Bryson mentioned a Josie once, but it was in passing.

You wouldn’t have known they were dating because he was constantly flirting around.

I didn’t think much of it or really care because while we’re teammates, we’ve never been close.

Still, I talked to him during practice and games and if we ran into each other somewhere, I made small talk.

But since I found out he was the guy Amanda was cheating on me with, I don’t talk to him unless necessary. And I’m nowhere near his vicinity unless we have to because we’re teammates.

If I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll lose my shit. I didn’t when I found out he was fucking my girlfriend, and I haven’t despite his taunts. No matter what he says, I told myself I’d keep my cool.

I remind myself of that as I feel something spark inside me. It slowly spreads like lava, and I feel dangerously hot inside.

Was he part of the reason why Josie wanted to end it? The thought triggers something, but I force the raging thoughts racing in my head to calm down.

“I had no idea they were a thing.” I cast my glance toward Angel who shrugs as if he were saying the same thing. “How do you know?”

“I may have attempted to ask her out,” Gray says all too fast, embarrassed more than annoyed.

Kai snickers, cocking a brow. “May have? Please. He tried but she knocked him off his massive-ass ego and turned him down. He also?—”

“Shut up.” He shoots him a glare, but Kai only grins wider.

“He also tried to sign up for one of her swimming lessons, but she never replied to his email.” His snickers become bubbles of laughter.

“Smart girl,” Noah quips.

Gray deadpans but then perks up, smiling, unbothered. “It was for the best. After all, I know how to swim and some people don’t.” He looks directly at me when he says that, humor lacing his words. “I’d hate to take the spot from someone who really needs it.”

I don’t take offense because I know he’s not being a dick. He sometimes comes off that way. He also comes off as a snob and a condescending asshole, but Grayson isn’t that bad once you get to know him.

He knows, like everyone else, that I don’t know how to swim. The guys have wanted to teach me, but the deep terrifies me, so I’ve never let them.

“Maybe you should sign up for those lessons,” Kai suggests jokingly.

Angel grins. “You know, that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“But good luck trying to get her to reply to you,” Gray patronizingly adds.

“I’m not going to do that,” I say just as it’s our turn to order.

Doing that would require me putting my fear aside. But why would I sign up for those swim lessons when it’s obvious she wants nothing to do with me? She probably wouldn’t reply to my email anyway.

I shake the thought away, but as she walks past me, our gazes collide and something weird happens in my chest. When she looks away, the weird feeling stops but the thought comes flying back.

I’m not going to do it.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Angel quietly says to me as the guys place their orders.

“I’m not.”

“Right,” he drawls.

“I’m not.” I shouldn’t but I sound defensive as hell.

“Sure, Danny.”

I can’t reply because it’s his turn to order. But it doesn’t matter, I’m not going to do it.