Page 61 of The Fake Out

Movement near the dugout caught my eye, pulling me away from ogling Emerson’s ass in those baseball pants. Hannah was recording the fans as the entire stadium screamed. Talk about marketing. The woman was genius.

As I slid my attention back to Emerson, my heart sank a little. Although he had been on the field for the entire song, leading it even. He’d yet to sign a single thing.

“Does Emerson not sign merch like the rest of them?” I asked.

“I’ve never seen him do it,” Avery said.

“He’s usually busy throwing for the guys who need shoulder rest. The pitchers, the catcher, guys in situations like Mason’s,” Wren explained.

Mason had been out for days with his head and shoulder injuries. And clearly everyone was glad he was back.

“That is true,” Avery agreed. “He does it for Price or Chris pretty regularly, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sign anything. Weird.” Avery shrugged.

No, not weird. It was so on-brand for Emerson. I’d bet money he didn’t think anyone wanted his autograph. The comments from the building super a few weeks ago floated in my mind, along with a few offhanded remarks Emerson had made. Had anyone ever actually told him how much of a fan fave he was, or how important he was to the team? It hurt to think that they hadn’t. Emerson was always taking care of the people around him. His team, his friends, his family, me. Putting those he cared about above himself. We might have been nothing more than a fling, but I wouldn’t leave Boston without making sure he understood that he was worth so much more than he realized.

With Mason’s return, the game was a gimme, and I’d had a blast announcing him. Hannah had asked for a big idea this morning, and Bosco and I had come up with the perfect song. Even Chris and Coach had joined in, because no one could deny having our center back was season changing.

I spent the entire day smiling, though it had little to do with winning and everything to do with waking up with Gi in my arms this morning. The happiness was bordering on euphoria, knowing she was up in the box with Avery. I’d never really understood the idea of having a girl who was special to me watch me play until today.

The way she bopped along with my dance and jumped out of her seat cheering when I stole second was intoxicating. I was on a freaking high, and damn if I didn’t want another hit of that feeling.

She’d even appeared in the team room with Avery after the game. Probably to see her brother. I knew that. Even so, I couldn’t let go of the possibility that she was there for me too.

When I walked into the team room and saw her in her black Revs cropped shirt and leggings, my stupid heart surged. Last night, I had played off the idea of us being anything more than a night. Mostly because I wanted to give her time to come around to the idea, but also because I was terrified that she’d be like What the fuck dude? One night means just that. Yet I wanted so much more.

As of this moment, I had no idea where we stood, but I planned to talk to her tonight. And that moment couldn’t come fast enough. All day, she had been the only thought in my head besides baseball.

“Who wants to hit the bar before we fly out?” Bosco dropped into the seat between Mason and me. Most of the team had headed home with their families, and I was working on my exit since I had a plan for the night.

“I’m out,” Mason said, hardly looking up from his phone.

“Out?” Bosco practically shouted, his brows pulled low.

“No drinking, no flashing lights, no noise for another few days.” Mason shrugged. He was all about the bar on a normal day, but staying on the field meant taking care of himself. I understood that.

Bosco huffed. “Dragon has dinner plans with Avery and her dad. And Price and Martinez will want family time. Guess it’s just me and you, Bambi.”

“Out,” I said quickly.

He crossed his arms. “Dude, what the hell? You haven’t gone out with us in like a month.”

I actually hadn’t been out with any regularity since before Christmas. I’d buckled down and dedicated all my excess energy to baseball. I wanted to be on my game and get a new contract. Once I did, I could mess around again.

“I gotta do some shopping. Pick up new sheets.”

Both guys blinked at me, looking like a pair of owls.

“What?” Mason cocked a brow. “What happened to yours?”

Shit. Should have worked out an answer before spewing that bullshit. Because they were perfectly fine.

“You know me. I thrash around and always trip on them getting out of bed. I go through them pretty quickly.” That was a convenient truth, even if I hadn’t technically damaged my current set.

Mason shook his head. “I’d call you a liar, but I’ve seen you do it so many times.”

Kyle frowned. “I don’t get how you make diving catches up the third baseline like it’s easy, yet simple things like not falling out of bed are so damn hard.”

“He can fucking dance too.”

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