Page 114 of Hot Streak

Deke looked like he knew better.

Connor wanted to believe better, but he had a horrible sinking feeling that wasn’t why Jackson had headed to the Strike Zone.

“Alright.” Connor grabbed his wallet and phone from his locker. “Who’s up for a drink? We’re celebrating.”

There was a round of cheers that went through the clubhouse. These guys were genuinely happy for him. Why couldn’t he be happy for himself?

On their way to the Strike Zone, he checked his phone, but, no big surprise, Jackson hadn’t texted him.

Jackson wasn’t much of a texter, even during the best of times. He was just going to have to get better at it, Connor decided, as they walked into the Strike Zone.

Sure enough, there was Jackson, all the way at the end of the bar. Connor watched as he took one shot and then another.

Jackson drank, but he rarely went for liquor, usually sticking to beer.

Not tonight, though. Connor watched as he held up a hand, ordering another—and from the hard look on his face, it wasn’t a celebratory sort of “another round, please” request.

Deke put a hand on Connor’s shoulder, and he realized he hadn’t just been looking at Jackson, bent over the bar, but staring.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Deke said.

“Shouldn’t I . . .” Connor trailed off but Deke pinned him with a look that spoke volumes. That said he knew what was actually going on. Oh. Oh. Jackson must have told him. Connor wasn’t mad about it, but he was surprised.

“No,” Deke said firmly. “Let me deal with this. Celebrate with your guys, okay?”

When Connor still hesitated, Deke patted him. “I promise you,” he said softly, “he’s happy for you. He is. He’s just . . .facing his own mortality. Sometimes that’s not a very pretty conversation.”

“I could do it,” Connor argued. “I should do it.”

“No, because then you’d end up believing he isn’t happy for you, and trust me, that’s the last thing Jackson wants.”

“Alright.”

Ro and TJ, Kevin and Charlie, were already congregating at a few big tables towards the front, Millie weaving in between them, a bright smile on her face, especially when Connor walked over to them.

“Oh my God, Connor, congrats!” she exclaimed when he got closer. She pulled him into a tight hug, and when she released him, she added, “I’m just so tickled for you. This is so amazing. The majors!”

“Yeah,” Connor said.

It was amazing.

It was what he’d worked his whole life for, and damn Jackson to hell for making him not as happy about it as he should be.

He turned to his teammates. “How about a round on me?”

They cheered again, and Millie nodded. “I got you guys,” she said. “And Connor—enjoy your night.”

“What crawled up his ass and died?” TJ asked as he glanced over to where Deke had taken the barstool next to Jackson’s.

Connor shrugged. He really, really did not want to talk about Jackson.

“I heard, in the show,” Ro said excitedly, “someone carries your bags for you. And you don’t have to share a room. And they actually let you get room service.”

Good. Connor would much rather talk about how fucking awesome the rest of his career would be than to mope about Jackson Evans.

“I heard the room service thing too,” Kevin said, picking up a shot from the tray Millie had just set down. “To the Comet—who’s gonna get righteously spoiled now!”

Everyone clinked shot glasses and that first shot going down Connor’s throat felt good.