Page 9

KAI

T uesday came quickly, what with Isla having to go to classes on Monday and go to the apartment she leased to break the contract, then back to our parents to pack the rest of her stuff.

I had a team meeting and a midday practice.

We barely saw each other, and when our heads hit the pillows, we passed the fuck out from being exhausted.

Now it’s game day, moving day for Isla and dinner with our parents.

Gods, give me strength.

It’s early, and Isla is still asleep next to me in bed.

I’ve got to get up and head to the stadium for morning warm-ups, batting practice, and team practice.

The game doesn’t start until seven p.m. but it’s a full day beforehand.

I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.

“Princess.” I kiss her bare shoulder. “Wake up, baby.”

“Mmm, what time is it?”

I look over at my watch. “It’s five thirty but I’ve got to get going to warm-ups.

I wanted to tell you to have a great day at class and that I’ll see you after the game.

My spare jersey is in the closet. You better be wearing it tonight.

” I pull the covers away from her body and give her ass a smack while I give her a kiss.

“Have a good practice, baby.” She kisses me back and this warm feeling spreads through my body.

She called me baby.

I’ve always been her big brother, brother, or my name.

Never, baby.

“I love you, Isla.” Her lips curl into a small smile against mine.

“I love you too, Kai.”

The dressing room is loud, with all the guys chattering about the game tonight.

Season-opening games are always nerve-wracking and this is my first in the MLB.

I let out a breath and all I can think about is hoping to catch a glimpse of Isla and my parents in their seats.

I haven’t checked my phone all day so I don’t know how the moving has been or what the plan is for after the game.

I know I told Isla I wasn’t nervous about telling our parents, but for some reason, the nerves are hitting me now.

“You good, Kai?” Gael sits down next to me, hitting me in the shoulder with his glove.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. First game jitters.” I do some deep breathing exercises to help relax.

“You’ve got this, bro. The coaches have you as a starter for a reason.

Your reaction time is killer and your throw is on point.

Don’t worry too much.” Gael hypes me up.

The guy really is such a positive vibe for the team.

Even in college, he was always uplifting everyone.

It was rare that he would ever be negative.

“Alright, guys!” Coach Johnson yells from the main doors, “Game time! ”

We run out onto the field together, and the crowd is wild!

The stadium looks completely full as we take our spots on the field.

I get to third base and let out a breath, looking in the stands, hoping to see her face.

The tickets I got for them are right at the third base line, so I should be able to see her and our parents easily.

I hope they aren’t running late.

My attention is pulled back to the field when Knight takes the pitcher’s mound, and rolling my neck to loosen the muscles, I hear my name being called.

“Kai!”

I look over to my left and none of the guys seem to be trying to get my attention.

“Malakai!”

“Third Base!”

“Number Seven!”

I turn to the stands and there she is, front and center, looking so fucking pretty with her long hair pulled into a ponytail, a Coyotes hat on her head and my jersey.

I almost blow her a kiss, but with Gene standing next to her, I opt not to.

Okay, I can relax now. I give my family a wave and focus back on the game.

Bottom of the eighth and I’m next at bat.

We’re down by two runs and their pitcher’s finally throwing some heat.

Gael struck out and so did O’Malley; that’s two outs in the inning.

I’m taking a few practice swings when I hear the bat crack and the crowd goes wild!

Jackson sent the ball high and long, and he made it all the way to third base before the ball went back to the pitcher.

Fuck, no pressure.

None at all.

“You’re up, Vaughn!”

My walk-up song starts. “ Code Red ” plays for the fifteen seconds as I run out to home plate and set up. I raise my bat and close my eyes for a second, centering myself. The music stops and my eyes fly open, zeroed in on the pitcher’s arm.

“You’ve got this, Kai!” Jackson yells from third.

I’ve got this.

The pitcher winds back and launches the ball straight over my head.

“Ball.”

Come on. Give me something I can hit.

I step back and set up again as the ball gets thrown to the pitcher.

Let me show my girl what I can do.

Not that Isla doesn’t already know I’m a decent player. She probably knows my stats better than I do. Better than my mom and her dad, for sure.

The pitcher winds back again, and this one has some heat, perfectly centered, and I let it rip.

The bat meets the ball with a loud crack, sending it sailing to right field, hitting the wall, and rolling in the dirt.

I take off like a bat out of hell, my cleat hitting the corner of first base as I round it.

Jackson makes it home and if the crowd’s shouting, I can’t hear it.

My heartbeat is thumping in my ears as I hit second base, then head straight for third.

I see Isla screaming, motioning for me to keep going, and I do.

Hitting the base, I pivot and head for home plate.

The catcher is yelling for the ball and I drop to a slide, my shin crossing right as the ball hits his glove and he brings it down to tap my thigh.

“Safe!”

The stadium goes crazy. My first game in the majors and I hit a home run to tie the game. What is this life? The best part about all of it was my girl sitting in the stands watching me do it. I’m on a high like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and this is only the beginning.

Bradshaw walks, Sanford hits a single, and Ward walks, which makes bases loaded; my home run must have shaken their pitcher.

Kennedy goes up to bat and strikes out, ending the inning.

Top of the ninth, tie game, and it’s almost over.

If we keep our shit tight and Knight keeps throwing fire, we’re going to be okay.

“Keep it up, Kai!” Her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, clear as day.

My girl.

She’s my girl.

I can’t wait to get over the hurdle of our parents and start living our lives in public.

Will the media have a shit show with it?

Probably. But I don’t give a fuck. As soon as we’re done telling them at dinner, I’ll talk to whoever I’ve got to for the team and go public.

All I know is that I’m not giving her up.

Knight strikes out their first three batters without even breaking a sweat and we hit the plate again.

Heading into the bottom of the ninth, Monroe is up to bat.

He strikes out but Gael hits a single on his first pitch.

The Mets change up their pitcher; Emiliano Guerrero hits the mound and their fans in the stands go wild.

“Fuck this asshole.” O’Malley scoffs as he grabs his helmet and gets ready to hit the plate.

“Friend of yours?” I ask, chuckling at his response to Guerrero pitching.

“If you call being the biggest douche in the history of baseball and then stealing someone’s shit during training camp friends, then yeah… totally.”

Okay, not a friend.

The team watches the tension between O’Malley and Guerrero and it’s so fucking thick in the air that you can taste it. “This will not go well.”

“No, the fuck it won’t.” Jackson chimes in at my side.

“They just need to fuck and get over it.” Andres chimes in .

Jackson’s and my heads whip around. “What?”

Andres chuckles. “Seriously, you can’t see it? Ellos están locos uno por el otro.”

“ No mames !” I scoff. “There is no way O’Malley is into him.”

“Okay,” Andres laughs. “Just you wait.”

I turn back and watch O’Malley stare Guerrero down, mouthing, “Fuck you.” Guerrero just smiles at him as he winds up to pitch. Strike after strike, he throws the heat. O’Malley enters the dugout pissed off, dropping onto the bench.

Fuck.

It’s Jackson, then me, if we get that far.

Two balls and a nice solid hit to left field get Jackson onto second base and Gael makes it to third. Now it’s all up to me. I’ve got this. I walk out and set myself up, taking a deep breath, and I zero in on Guerrero. His first pitch soars across home plate.

“Strike.”

Fuck.

Setting up, I watch him wind back. As it releases, it’s perfect, just the ball I’m looking for, so I let it rip and send the ball up and out of the stadium.

“Wooo!” I scream as I hit the bases, bringing Gael and Jackson home and then myself.

We win eight to five, and me hitting a walk-off home run was the icing on the perfect first game.

Heading into the dressing room, the only thing on my mind is to get changed and go find Isla. What I didn’t expect was to be bombarded by the press, with cameras in my face asking about the game and how I felt about my performance.

I am so not prepared for this.

I know I’m supposed to be professional and talk with the media, like a good athlete. But I could give two shits right now, so I give short answers and thank them politely, pushing through the crowd. My phone in my hand, I send her a text.

Kai

Where are you?

Isla

We’re heading toward the front of the stadium. I didn’t think we could meet you outside the dressing room.

Don’t freak out, but I’m pretty sure our parents know something is going on with us.

Well, dinner is going to be awesome.

I can just tell.