Page 13 of Nailed at Home Plate

There was a resounding mix of laughter and random chatter as I glanced over my shoulder at the rest of the guys. My heart traffic-jammed into my throat. There was no way that I’d been that fucking obvious. While I wasn’t fond of the dancing portion of the daily schedule, I didn’t make a face over it. At least I was sure that I hadn’t. But now these guys were making me think otherwise.

“Idon’tmake a face,” I grumbled as I fumbled with my other shoelace. But my brain couldn’tfunction normally. I was too fixated on the fact that the guys were giving me shit. Giving me shit over the one person that already had my brain all out of sorts lately.

“Dude, every day it's the same face.” Benson laughed as he waved his accusing finger in my direction. “Even now you’re making it.”

“This is my normal face.” I shrugged them off as I managed to get my feet free from my cleats. I wanted to bolt clear out of there. But that would make me look even more guilty of what they accused me of already.

“Dude you just have to give it right back to her.” Arlow shrugged as he kicked off his grass-caked cleats, sending the thin blades into a chaotic flutter onto the concrete floor.

Fuck if my brain didn’t go immediately to the gutter.

Once my thoughts got over their unexpected X-rated scene that starred Cadence and me with her bent over the bench I was sitting on, I let out a mental sigh of relief. They weren’t giving me shit about staring at her. They were giving me shit for the permanent scowl that had been on my face from day one.

“Yeah, give her that attitude right back. She’s all bark and no bite. Stand your ground. Even though she is pretty scary sometimes…” Designated hitter, Martin Pitt, thoughtfully scratched at his facial hair along his chin. He and Schmidt were the only two of the guys who were married. They probably had better suggestions on how to navigate uncertain waters with a woman. There was a resounding murmur of agreement from the guys within earshot. “Although she has been in a different sort of mood lately.”

“Shit.” Kellan’s blonde head shot up from the process of peeling off his socks. “Maybe she’s in the Danger Zone again?”

“For this long?!” Tomas’ Dominican accent was almost sing-song in his exasperation.

“I saidagain, Tommy boy. You know, from that monthly thing?”

My eyes were certifiable ping-pong balls as they bounced from one end of the locker room to the other with all the guys chipping in on the conversation. Meanwhile, my brows could have knitted a sweater from their furrowed position of utter confusion. I didn’t want to admit the fact that I was pretty sure her attitude was due to dealing with my untalented ass.

“Truitt, did you remember to bring Cadence her Twix bars during that last cycle?”

There was a moment of utter silence as the men waited with bated breath. Cycle? As in a baseball cycle, where a player hits a single, double, triple, and a home run? A resounding swear slipped from under Truitt’s breath. All the guys groaned.

“Dude, it's all your fault. You fucked poor Jamie over!” Camden exclaimed to his teammate as he waved his hand in my direction.

“Uh…” I was lost. What the fuck was all this? Was this some sort of code? A weird superstition?

“Yo, guys, I didn’t mean to!” Truitt wailed as he plopped his forehead into his hands, his elbows propped up on his bare knees. This entire conversation had gotten entirely out of hand in seconds flat.

“You’d better bring her some tomorrow,” Martin warned as he whipped off his shirt. “Just in case.”

“Appease the goddess.” Benson chimed in as he flipped off his headband, sending his dirty brown untamed locks in all directions. The guys laughed. I didn’t.

“Look, we’re just joking.” Schmidt, the backup catcher, laughed and slapped a hand on my back. “We love Cadence, we really do. But during certain times of the month…the goddess needs a sacrifice to appease her.”

“Sacrifice ooh-ha-ha!” The chorus echoed around the room.

That’s it.

They were all lunatics.

“Honestly, it's to save all of our asses.” Schmidt slung an arm around my shoulders as he plopped down on the bench next to me. “I’m kidding. We know baseball is a guys’ world. We’re lucky to have such a kick-ass coach like Cadence. It’s amazing she can deal with us assholes daily. So…when she needs it, we all bring her in a little something when she’s feeling…crummy.”

“Usually it's chocolate.” Truitt offered since his forgetfulness of said sacrifice was now fresh in his brain.

“Or flowers,” Schmidt suggested.

“Or candles!” The guys each took a turn offering suggestions for Cadence and appropriate “sacrifices”. Even though they were a bunch of insane asylum escapees, they all had a heart of gold. A misshapen heart of gold, but a gold one, nonetheless.

“You know, for that time of the month.” Rising, Schmidt moved back to his locker cubby. “Or whenever she needs a pick-me-up.”

“Or breakups!” Ender added while the guys nodded in agreement.

“I take it that she dates a lot…?” I prodded carefully since the guys seemed overly willing to divulge information at this rate. Any glimpse into Cadence’s world might help me figure out the enigma with curves to a more manageable point.

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