Page 78 of The Third Baseman

“Yeah,” I dropped my head. “I’m certain that’s why it took six months for her to come here. She was getting divorced.”

“Oh,” Stone’s shoulders dropped anti-climatically, and he let out a loud tut. “So she’s single?”

I pulled on the ends of my hair, again. “I can’t believe she got married.”

“Um, dude, you’ve slept with hundreds of women.”

“I didn’t want to marry any of them. I didn’t pledge my undying love to someone else.”

“Sounds like it did die though. She got divorced.” His eyebrows rose, daring me to disagree. “Do you know why?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Boomer Jones making his way toward his locker which was next to mine, but he took one look at me and turned around.

“Why she got divorced?”

“Yes.”

As I shook my head no, the look on her face flashed into my memory again as it had done a hundred times since; the look she’d had after I’d asked her why she’d divorced. I knew from the way she couldn’t meet my eyes that it was something to do with me, and it was the only thing keeping me within the realm of sanity, keeping me from smashing all the lockers, and knocking down all the doors.

“Reeves, you’re losing me. What’s this got to do with her date? How’d that happen?”

“She told me she’d been hit on, and I laughed. She got mad. And now according to the club gossip, she’s going on the fucking date.”

Stone winced, and I felt it right in the chest.

“She hasn’t spoken to me since, and she won’t see me. Three days… she’s been ignoring me for three days! I went to her office and she refused to let me in. She just sat on her stool and stuck her earbuds in so she couldn’t hear me knocking.” I dropped my head, because what really bothered me was this… “And she hasn’t been sitting in her usual spot at the games. I didn’t realize how much I needed her there, but our last three games she was somewhere else.”

It wasn’t just about how much I needed to see her; it was the way her eyes always met mine from under the peak of her ball cap, making me feel like I was the only man on the field. It was the way she was the last person I saw after running round the bases, and stepping into the dugout. It coated me like a protective salve.

But without her, I’d been open to the elements. Vulnerable to attack.

I’d missed an easy catch last night; it was only a matter of time before it started to affect my game.

Huh, started. Who was I kidding? She’d always affected my game.

Stone stayed silent, then turned toward the showers, yelling, “WATSON!”

Either Ace didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. Either way, Stone, wasn’t waiting for an answer and got up.

I huffed out a huge sigh. What a total fucking clusterfuck I’d made of everything. The girl I loved was on a date with another dude.

Because I’d told her to go.

I launched my shorts into the laundry just as Stone returned.

“Put your clothes back on,” he said, before adding, “you’ve got two hours before we have stretching.”

“Two hours for what?”

“To find her. She should be in the park. He said she’s using her lunchbreak. Go and find her, break up the date, fix whatever you fucked up. It doesn’t matter, just be back in two hours.”

I stared at him, not quite understanding until Stone opened my locker, grabbed a clean pair of shorts and a shirt, and threw them at me.

“Reeves, go.”

I yanked them on as quickly as I could before I had any time to think about whether this was even stupider, whether it would only make things worse. Fishing around for my earbuds, I stuck them in and pulled on my ball cap. My sprint to Riverside Park began the second I left the locker room.

It took me ten minutes of running along the river to reach one of the side entrances and a fork in the path, which is when it occurred to me that a) I was recognizable, and b) Riverside Park was fucking massive, and I had no idea where she was.

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