Page 65 of Crew
“Yeah. From there, we’d drive to Harvest Ridge. My hometown,” I added quickly. “We’ll be in Raleigh before the team call. It won’t interfere with anything.”
Skip’s eyes moved between us. “You going home to tell your folks about Knox?”
I nodded. “I would like to.”
Parker held my gaze for another beat. “Then go.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, just don’t fuck around. I want you in Raleigh ready to play.”
“You got it.”
“We appreciate it.” Knox squeezed my shoulder and we left. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
I huffed. “You didn’t feel like throwing up the whole time?”
He smirked. “Nope. But maybe that’s just because I’m not the one going home.”
We’d caughtthe six a.m. flight out of Portland with a layover in Dallas, and by the time we landed in Knoxville, I couldn’t tell if I was anxious or just straight-up dreading everything ahead of me.
The drive to Harvest Ridge wasn’t long—maybe forty minutes—but every mile we put behind us made my pulse climb higher. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against my thigh, trying to keep my nerves from boiling over.
When we passed the red water tower with “Welcome to Harvest Ridge” painted in chipped white letters, I felt like I’d swallowed a rock. I wasn’t ready to face my parents yet.
So instead of heading to the house, I pulled into the lot of the Ridgeview Motel. The place hadn’t changed. It was sun-bleached, with paint peeling around the windows and a soda machine out front that probably still didn’t work. A faded vacancy sign leaned in the window like it had been there forever, which it had.
“I just want to shower. Regroup for the night and then head over in the morning,” I said as I killed the engine. It was almost five in the evening and I didn’t want to impose on dinner even if I was their son. Plus, it had been a long day and I needed a clear head before I dropped the bomb on myfolks.
“Whatever you need,” he replied, already climbing out to grab our bags.
The reception office was barely more than a counter and a wall of room keys hung from hooks. A woman in a floral sleeveless blouse looked up from behind the desk, her glasses perched low on her nose. Her eyes narrowed for half a second, then brightened.
“Well, I’ll be. Crew Stratton?”
“Hey, Miss Connie.” I offered a polite smile.
“You’re back in town?” Her gaze drifted to Knox, then back to me. “Visiting family?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just a quick trip before we head to Raleigh for a few games.”
She passed over the check-in form and a pen. “Still playing ball?”
“Absolutely. I’m with Portland now.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She nodded. “My nephew says y’all are gonna take the whole damn thing.”
“We hope so.” I grinned.
When I checked the box for two beds, her eyes lingered just long enough to make my neck itch.
Knox didn’t say anything. Just stood there, calm as ever, while I worried if Miss Connie was about to start a small-town gossip train and it would get back to my mom that I was in town.
“I hope y’all or my Braves do.” She reached behind her and grabbed a key. “Room twelve is upstairs and at the end of the row.”
I signed the form and took the key. “Thanks, Miss Connie.”
Outside, Knox and I walked toward the stairwell as gravel crunched under our shoes as we crossed the lot.
