Page 101 of Wild Catch
I wipe my face with my arm and push away from the table. I hate that my chin trembles as I look down at my boss “Dave, I don’t feel well today so I’m going to go home early, okay?”
He nods rapidly. “Yes, yes. Let’s continue our conversation when you feel better.”
“Okay,” I mumble, turning around. Logan is like a wall blocking the door, every line of him tense as he looks at me. I extend my trembling hand and it takes him a second to place my phone on it. “Thanks. If you’ll excuse me…”
Logan’s hands tighten into fists but he steps aside. I walk by, pretending like the scent of pine and sunblock and sweat doesn’t follow me as I leave him behind.
CHAPTER34
LOGAN
“Inever thought the time would come when I’d have to ask, but… are you okay, Kim?”
I tear my eyes away from Rose while she records both Starr and Machado on the topic of the day:if you could play any other position, what would you pick?She’s basically asked every guy in the clubhouse but me, clearly still icing me out.
Expelling a big breath, I ask, “What do you mean, Rivera?”
He folds his arms, turning to face me as he sits next to me. “At first I thought you were extra cranky because we’re about to start the series against your brother. But then I noticed how you and Rose aren’t talking and all you do is stare at her from afar. What’s up with that, bro?”
My jaw tightens. I would understand if someone noticed that Rose and I are strained—it’s clear as day—but the thing about my brother? And shit, why does it have to be this goof who noticed?
“How did you catch on?” I wince a bit. “About my brother, I mean.”
“Easy, you look like you got a big turd stuck in your colon sideways every time you look at him.” He nods as if he had just imparted some sage words and not used a pretty graphic allegory.
“You know what? I prefer the version of you that pulls childish pranks on people than the observant one.”
Rivera smirks a little. “And I really enjoy when you underestimate me.” The amusement eases off his face and for once, the seriousness he adopts makes him look his actual age. “I know there’s no power in this world that can force you to talk but just answer me this: is whatever you got going on at risk of affecting this game?”
“No.” His eyes narrow as he studies me, and I add, “I’m damn good at compartmentalizing.”
“I know that. It scares me sometimes.” Sighing, he loosens his arms and runs a hand down his face. “And if it does start to affect the game?”
I swallow hard and he notices. “If so, I’ll ask Beau to sub me out.”
It’s obvious that he wants to say something more, but at the last minute he changes his mind and gets up. Right when I think he’s finally out of my hair, he retraces back a few steps and pats my shoulder. Hard.
“Also, just apologize to Rose.”
Apologize? What the hell for?
For having the hots for her even though I’m a jumbo sized red flag?
I twist my face and bat his paw away. “It’s not that simple.”
“I bet it’s actually not as complicated as that clever brain of yours is making it out to be.” He points at my face. “Stop overthinking and apologize, that’s all.”
“Go away before I find the electric mosquito swatter.”
He looks ready to chew me off some more, but then crew members of the New York Eagles stadium instruct us to get going. I feel a million years old as I get back up to my feet, and not like a professional athlete that is already warmed up and ready to go.
I follow along with my teammates trickling into the tunnel out to the away team dugout, trying my best not to be aware of Rose standing by watching. She says good luck over and over as the guys pass her by, and I pretend like I’m wiping the sweat off my face with my long sleeved undershirt so she doesn’t feel obligated to acknowledge me. The going excuse is the mandate from HR for the couples on the team to act professional at all times, and no one had suspected anything was amiss until now. I keep forgetting that Lucky Rivera is a smarter jackass than he lets on.
I’m already decked in my catcher gear so I step out onto the green for the national anthem. The second I do, the booing is deafening enough that I have no doubt it can be heard throughout all The Bronx.
It snaps me awake. Finally my brain grabs every complicated thought about my fake girlfriend and locks it in a wooden chest.
Now I’m fully present in the moment, and I look on at the stadium where I started my professional career, packed to the brim with fans who still can’t get over my betrayal years later.
