Page 41 of Things I Wish I Said
We’re in the leadwith five runs by the time we leave the outfield for the bottom of the sixth, after I caught a line drive headed straight for my kidneys.
I jog into the dugout and reach for my water, taking a long pull before capping it and glancing back into the stands where I know she’s sitting. Despite taking me a minute to recognize her with the wig, I can’t seem to take my eyes off her.
She’s wearing a Nike baseball cap. Long, dark locks spill over her shoulders, and her skin has a little more color than when I saw her last.
She looks good, better than she did in the hospital and I’m glad to see it. Anyone else looking at her from this vantage point would think she’s just like any other girl here. They’d have no clue she’s sick.
A throat clears beside me, and I jerk my gaze away from her to where Cameron is watching me with a shit-eating grin. “Damn, man. You’re here, you’re sober, and you’re playing like you used to. I’ve been wondering what the special occasion is but didn’twanna jinx it by asking. But then I’ve watched you stare at that pretty little thing in the stands for the last hour, so I guess I already know.”
I eye him warily. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to bat?”
“Nah.” Cameron spits a spray of sunflower seed shells on the ground in front of me, removes his ball cap, and rakes a hand through the messy black curls. “We’re in the bottom of the lineup, which means we won’t bat for a while, which also means I have plenty of time to find out who this chick is.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, doing a pretty shitty job feigning ignorance.
He arches a brow in a look that tells me to cut the bullshit. “The hot brunette who’s been glued to my uncle’s side since the first inning.”
As if on cue, a tinkle of laughter floats into the dugout, drawing my attention. I tell myself not to look, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I glance at the stands, finding Ryleigh with her head tipped back, laughing at something Buddy said.
“Well?” Cameron crosses his arms over his chest, a smug smile playing on his lips.
I swallow, wondering what the hell to tell him. When she first said she’d come to my game, I was at the lake, feeling guilty about Hannah. Then I found out about her chemo, and I hadn’t given the game much more thought. Including what I might tell my friends about her. And now that she’s here, I findmyself wholly unprepared to face the onslaught of questions I know are coming.
My gaze drifts to the right, and my stomach sinks. Hannah Waters is sitting only a foot from her. I pray she doesn’t approach me after the game. Even though I didn’t sleep with her the other night, Ryleigh doesn’t know that, and I don’t want her making assumptions.
“She’s just a girl I met,” I say, focusing my attention back on Ryleigh like it’s no big deal.
“Just a girl you met,” Cameron repeats, eyeing me closely. “Interesting, considering the girl you left the lake with is sitting just feet away from her, and I haven’t noticed you glance her way once, yet you’ve been staring at this chick all afternoon.”
Of course he thinks I left the lake with Hannah. There’s no way for him to know I turned her down, then went home. As for Hannah . . . well, I can’t speak for why she didn’t go back to her friends. Maybe she wanted everyone to think we hooked up. It wouldn’t be the first time a girl used me for bragging rights.
My gaze is cool, indifferent, as I say, “You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not. You totally have, bro.”
“Whatever.” I grumble at the same time Ryleigh rises from her spot in the stands, drawing my gaze like a bullseye. I track her movements, the blood in my veins heating when I get a glimpse at what she’s wearing. The tight black biker shorts, paired with the black cropped tank, give me an excellent view of her body.
“Damn,” Cameron mutters beside me, and my head jerks.
Scowling, I fight the urge to tell him to keep his eyes the fuck off her, but snapping at him will only prove him right. Besides, I barely even know her. I have zero right to feel possessive, so why the hell do I care?
Maybe seeing her in the hospital spurred this feeling. I’m just being protective. Yeah, that’s it.
Ripping my eyes off her, I focus back on the game.
Thirty minutes later, after a win, we leave the team huddle and spill out of the dugout with our gear in hand.
“De Leon!” Coach calls.
I glance back at him, waiting expectantly as I sling my gear bag over my shoulder.
“I just wanted to say it’s good to have you back. I think that’s the first glimpse I’ve had of the Grayson I know in a while. Let’s keep it that way, huh, kid?”
“I’ll try, sir.” I swallow, unsure if I have it in me to keep it up or not as I step out of the dugout and behind the field to the dispersing crowd.
Hannah finds me first, flinging herself at me and curling her arms around my neck in a tight embrace. Behind her,Cameron’s eyes twinkle as he mouths,Clinger alert.
