31. Monty

Chapter thirty-one

Monty

I stroke Lark’s hair away from her face, unable to ignore how worried I am any longer. We should be heading to the airport together this morning, bound for Arizona and spring training. But Lark’s been feeling under the weather for a week or so and threw up a couple of times yesterday. So she’s staying home and going to the doctor later this week instead. The plan is for her to fly out with the rest of the team that starts training next week. This week it’s just pitchers and catchers.

I’m hoping she’ll feel better and can make the trip down south. Because the idea of being away from her, even for a short while, physically hurts my chest.

“Hey, Birdie, I gotta go,” I say softly, bending down to kiss her forehead. Her eyes slowly flutter open, but it’s the dark circles underneath those beautiful baby blues that have me concerned. She’s been sleeping like the dead, barely making it to nine most nights before I’m tucking her in bed. Something’s not right, and it’s freaking me out.

“Do you want me to drive you to the airport?” she asks sleepily, covering her yawn with her hand .

“Nah, stay here and rest. I’ll get one of the guys to pick me up. You see the doctor on Thursday, right? I know we’ll be talking before then, but you better let me know what they say as soon as you can.”

She nods. “I will, but it’s just a virus, I’m sure. I hope you don’t come down with it.”

I thump my chest lightly with my fist. “My immune system is strong. I’ll be fine.” I don’t tell her that if it were a virus, she’d be getting better by now. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, a milkshake?”

She gives me a small smile. “Some coffee would be amazing.”

I lean down again and kiss the tip of her nose. “Coming right up.”

Out in the kitchen, I shoot off a message to Yami asking for a lift to the airport, then busy myself making Lark some coffee. Grabbing the stack of sticky notes on the counter, I scribble out a message and hide it in the cupboard that holds the mugs. When her coffee is ready, I carry it back into the bedroom to find her curled up on her side, holding her stomach protectively.

“Baby, are you okay?” I set the coffee down and crouch beside her.

Her face is so pale and drawn, but she manages a nod. “Yeah, I tried to get up and my stomach revolted on me. I’m better now that I’m lying down.”

I blow out a long sigh. “Fuck, I hate that I have to leave you like this.”

She reaches out a hand and pats my shoulder lightly, mustering a tiny smile. “I’ll be okay, Dan. It’s not the first time I’ve been sick. ”

“Maybe so, but it’s the first time you’ve been sick when I’ve been the one who gets to take care of you, and here I am, failing that job by abandoning you.” I give her an exaggerated pout, and it earns me a slightly bigger smile.

“Daniel Montgomery, you’re not abandoning me, you have to go to spring training. Besides, I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few days. The doctor will clear me, and I’ll be on the plane to Arizona with the rest of the team to join you.”

I press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I’m holding you to that, Birdie.” My pocket vibrates with a text, probably Yami letting me know he’s on his way. “Shit, I gotta go.” I drop my forehead to meet hers, and her hand snakes around the back of my neck, holding me there. “I love you.”

“I know.”

The Star Wars reference makes me grin, just as it does every time. But her answering smile is way too small and pathetic looking. I smooth her hair back, worry filling my head and heart.

Another buzz from my phone means my time is up. Somehow, I drag myself away, looking back at her when I reach the doorway. Fuck, I really hate leaving her like this. But I don’t have a choice. Turning, I move into her living room, grab my bag and the handle of my suitcase and leave, locking the door behind me.

Yami’s waiting downstairs, his low-slung sports car idling at the curb. I load my stuff in the trunk and then get in.

“Hey, thanks for the ride.”

“No prob. Lark’s still not feeling great?” he asks, concern clear on his face as well. All the guys like Lark, and strangely, it makes me feel better knowing I’m not the only one worried. She doesn’t get sick. At least, she hasn’t in the years I’ve known her.

“Yeah, she’s seeing her doctor later this week. It’s weird, she’s just so tired all the time, and her stomach is upset. I dunno, I just don’t like seeing her sick.” I slump against the seat of the car. We’re stopped at a red light, and I can feel him looking at me. Glancing over, I see a weird look on his face.

“What’s that look for?”

His head turns forward. “What look?”

“The one where you look like you just swallowed pickle juice.”

“Nothing, nothing. Hey, did you hear about one of the rookie’s superstitions? He doesn’t change socks all fucking season. We’re gonna need some heavy-duty air freshener in the locker room.” He wrinkles his nose.

“That’s nasty.”

“No shit. Anyway, hopefully, Lark can head south soon. My shoulder’s gonna need her magic hands.” He waves one of his in my face and I slap it away.

“Just keep your hands to yourself,” I say, probably more harshly than I need to. Yami immediately sobers and cuts me a look.

“Monty. Dude. You know I’d never do that. She’s your girl, always has been. No matter what happens.”

The weird defensive tension in my shoulders recedes. I’ve never felt this kind of possessiveness, not even in the past over Lark. I mean, I guess I had no right to, back when she belonged to someone else. But now, everything’s changed. She’s mine, and despite knowing the guys all respect that, some instinct has me on edge .

It’s not fair to take that out on my teammate, though. We’re partners, and the next few weeks in Arizona will be pivotal. We’re heading down a week before the rest of the team to get in some dedicated time on the mound.

“Sorry, man. Guess I’m just feeling a bit stressed leaving her when she’s not feeling great.”

He gives a tight nod but doesn’t say anything.

The rest of the drive to the airport is spent talking about the new prospects that will be at spring training. Our roster is solid, but some fresh players can be a good thing. As long as they don’t mess with my game. I need this season to be my best one yet.

As worried as I am about Lark, I know I can’t let anything distract me. As soon as I get on that plane, it’s go time.

My future depends on my focus being locked in tight on playing the best damn game I can.