Page 114 of The Future Play

“Seriously, don’t take it so hard. You’re still finding your groove,” Ryan says. “Look around the league, and you’ll find you’re not even close to being in the bottom half when it comes to stats. You’re doing well for a rookie.”

I’m not doing well for me, though, and that pisses me off.

“Come on, shower and we’ll take you out for dinner, maybe some drinks, and get your mind off it,” Beau says.

“I appreciate it, but I’ve got a meeting to get to, and I’m exhausted. I just want to get back to my room as soon as possible, order room service, and pass out.”

Beau claps me on the shoulder. “Let us know if you change your mind.”

I give them a nod, then head for the showers. I want this fucking day to be over with.

I don’t know why Emily needed to travel with the team or interview me here. I’m trying to be nice to her because she’s doing her job, and I know this is what I signed on for, but I’m in a shitty mood and don’t particularly want to talk about baseball or my life. No part of me is ever going to like exposing the inner parts of myself to the world. It’s not who I am. The only person who gets those pieces of me is Amanda.

And she’s not here.

Emily and I meet at the hotel bar, and I do my best to keep a smile on, be as friendly as I can manage, and give her more than three-word answers. But when she says that’s good for theevening, I practically jump out of my chair—or I would if I had any energy—and head for the elevators.

By the time I make it back to my room, I have a text from Amanda telling me she loves me and to call her when I’m ready. But when I open the door, cold loneliness washes over me along with bitter anger.

I’m not sure who or what I’m mad at, but all I want to do is sleep it off.

I strip out of my suit, then flop onto the bed and reluctantly pull out my phone and call Amanda.

“Hey, baby,” she answers, her voice soft and dulcet.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry about the game. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Enh.”

“Or we could switch to a video call. I can show you my boobs. They usually cheer you up.”

In some ways that’s tempting, but looking at what I can’t have when I really want it sounds like cruel punishment, which is why I didn’t video call her in the first place. I didn’t want to see her face and miss her more. That thought makes me feel guilty, which adds to my cranky mood.

“I appreciate that,” I force out. “But I can barely keep my eyes open. I think I need to crash.”

There’s a long pause. Something about that probably hurt her feelings, but I can’t think about that right now.

“Whatever you need.” Her voice is still soft, but it’s resigned now. “If you want to talk tonight or tomorrow before you leave, I’m here. I can’t wait to see you on Saturday night. I love you.”

I can hear the uncertainty in her voice when she says it, and it makes me feel like a jackass. She’s worried I won’t say it back. I don’t know how she could ever think that after almost two years together. But saying the words that resonate from deep in my soul is the least I can do.

“I love you too. I’ll text you before I get on the plane tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I hang up the phone and stare at the ceiling for a moment. Glancing over at the hotel phone, I consider calling for a meal, but I have no appetite. Instead, I set my alarm, flick off the light, then roll over and pray sleep will take me.

Tomorrow is another day, and I need to get up, work harder, and figure out my shit before I cost myself my spot on the team. They could decide I’m not worth it any time. I could get sent back to the minors. Or traded. Fuck. I’ve got to get my head together before I lose the dream I’ve worked so hard for.

Amanda

I’m wearingmy comfortable and sexy silk pajamas as I wait for Jamie.

I went straight from the wedding to driving down here. Every time I make the drive, I remember how much I loathe driving in the city, and I’m starting to wonder if it would be possible to afford a car service to drive me back and forth—some of the time, at least. Today it would’ve been amazing, since I was exhausted.

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