10. Alex

10

*********

Nothing but walks.

That's it. I primed myself to show what I've got today. And walks. Three walks.

Sure, I was on base and I scored three times. Stole third, too. But I walked. And Edwin? He knocked it out of the fucking park.

Nikki is waiting for me outside the clubhouse and I have no idea what to say to her. It was easier to cry in front of her than navigate what I've done to us. What was that in her room? Why did I leave like that?

I watched her sleep for hours. She must have been tired because I ran my hand through her hair half the damn night and she didn't move. I was in shock at what we'd done—what I did to us. Maybe it's a good thing I got shit pitches today because I was pretty gassed energy-wise. I stole that base on adrenaline and luck, with a nice boost from Brayden who made a point to say his family was coming out today—his whole family. I doubt his cousin is here, but still. What a dick!

"Good game today, yo," Edwin says, slapping my shoulder with his batting gloves as he passes on the way to his cubby.

"Hey, good game yourself. Nice knock, man!" I reach toward him with a fist and he pounds it.

Not only is he a beast at the plate but he's fucking really nice guy. And his work ethic is admirable. He told me he looked up to me before the game and that he wants to be a team leader like I am by the time he's a senior. I held it in because I'm a little jaded, but I should have told him, "Kid, you'll be drafted before then."

Maybe I'll luck out and get to play with him at the next level. I'd like that. I think I have things to teach him, but I also think I can learn a lot from him. His discipline at the plate. My dad would like the dude.

Dad.

It sucks that he's not here, but also, he's the last person I want to see. I don't need him in my head. It's too bad we could never separate the coach from the father. I still like the coach part. But what he's done to my mom? Yeah, I hate him for it.

"Hey, there he is!" Brayden's voice booms throughout the clubhouse, and a few heads turn to watch our exchange. I know I've been giving off a cold vibe, and he's been pretty obvious with his opinion of me. But the last week has really escalated. His needling has gotten constant—personal.

"Yeah, here I am. And I'm about to leave," I deadpan, forcing my gaze straight ahead at the hanger my jersey was hung from this morning while I shove my wallet, keys, and phone into my duffel.

"Hey, Alex." He stops right next to me, sitting down and straddling the bench, his stupid arm icing because, yeah, of course, he had a great outing today.

I take a deep breath and pull my lips in tight before turning to face him.

"What?" I don't bother pretense. I keep my eyes right on his. Most people get really uncomfortable with this type of alpha challenge. It's a move my dad has with other coaches and umps, and it's gotten him tossed from plenty of games.

Brayden? He's looking right back at me, unfazed. His lip ticks up and he breathes a short laugh through his nose.

"So, you and Nikki coming to the party tonight?"

Her name hits my chest and I want to wrap it up and protect it. Swallow it. Own it.

I shrug.

"Maybe." I actually forgot about the stupid baseball house party. And I'm not sure I want to define my relationship with Nikki in front of a bunch of drunk athletes looking to get laid. Especially this one.

"Well, I invited her. Hope she'll come." He smirks as he gets to his feet.

My glare drills through his skull as he walks away. Before he leaves, he tosses out, "Nice walks today."

When the clubhouse door shuts I throw my duffel at my cubby so hard I might have cracked my phone inside.

"Fuck him!" I let out, having enough sense to know that the only guys left in here understand where I'm coming from.

Brayden's good. And he's liked because he's good, and he has a house that his parents bought for him and he rents out to share with other players. They basically bought him friends. What the hell Nikki ever saw in him beats me.

I plop down and rest my elbows on my knees so I can rub my temples and stare at the concrete floor.

"You shouldn't let him get to you. You know it's all about Nikki and his fragile ego. Just . . . let it go," Cole says, resting his foot next to me while he finishes pulling the tape from his wrist.

I glance up, my eyes feeling the weight of all these things I don't know how to verbalize; the biggest one is the question burning a hole through my insides—am I going to do something to lose Nikki?

"I know. It's mostly my mental game, and I really wanted to come away from today with hits." That part's true, and it's very much the anchor pulling me down to the depths of frustration.

"The hits will come. They always do." He sounds so much like my dad with that response that I laugh, but for the moment, it works to pull me out of my pity party.

"You going to this thing tonight?" I ask him as we walk out together.

He shrugs, but I know him. He'll be there if the volleyball team shows up. He's in love with no less than five of the players. And given that Cutter never likes to miss a party and is dating the queen of volleyball, the odds are high.

"Alright, well, I'll see ya, man," I say, and he chuckles as we grasp hands.

"Yeah, you probably will. Hey, Nik," he says with a nod over my shoulder.

A tornado takes over my insides, roaring up my esophagus and closing off my lungs. How can I be so excited to see her and so afraid at the same time? I turn around and breathe in, forcing the tight smile that seems to be my go-to today. Omar's with her, and another guy. I wonder if that's the lacrosse player he's been crushing on for weeks.

"Where will we see him?" Nikki asks, her hand planting on my bicep as she steps up on her toes and moves to kiss me.

I give her my cheek. I give her my fucking cheek!

The hurt is apparent in her eyes as soon as she flattens to her feet and lets her hand drop back down into her pocket. I've already fucked this up. It's just, we haven't talked about it.

"Party at the baseball house, but I don't know if I'm up for it," I say, looking down the walkway that leads to the parking lot because I can't seem to get myself to look at her. I think I'm actually scared. Shit, I'm terrified.

"Right, well. I'm going, so I'll either see you there or I won't," she says.

I know that tone, and it snaps me out of my own shit in time to watch her start to walk away.

"We'll, uh, we're gonna go grab some food. I'll let you two—" Omar brings his shoulders up and flattens his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry. I think maybe I fucked up. I'll fix it," I say.

"You always do," he says, and I think there's a subtle dig in there, which I probably deserve. I'll need to unpack that some other time. Right now, I need to go save the burning embers of my bond with the most important person in my life.

"Sorry, man. I'm . . ." I hold out my hand for Omar's companion.

We shake.

"Brian. Nice to meet you. We can chat more next time," he says, nodding toward the pissed off brunette pounding pavement as fast as she can to get away from me.

"Yeah," I sigh. "Again, sorry."

I nod to them both, then swing my bag over my shoulder as I shift into a jog.

"Nik, wait up!"

Her hands are balled into fists at her sides. This is exactly what I was afraid of! Changing our relationship had these risks.

"Hey, I'm running. Seriously, wait!"

She stops in her tracks, and I catch up to her in seconds. I step in front of her and glance over her shoulder before looking her in the eyes.

"What, making sure Omar and Brian aren't around to see you talk to me?" She folds her arms over her chest and pops out her hip. Fuck, just like her mom. Like my mom!

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. I have to be honest with her. That's something that never can go away between us.

"Yeah, shit. I'm sorry, I was. I just—" I lift my chin and meet her eyes, the hurt even more obvious now, thanks to the tears pooling in the corners.

"Dammit," she huffs, running her sleeve over her eyes. Always the tough girl.

"No. That look on your face? That's my fault. And I know it. I'm just struggling."

I shake my head and shrug. Her eyes narrow.

"I asked you," she says.

My stomach tightens, and I know what she means, but I don't answer because I swore I'd be honest here. And I don't want to be honest. The truth is going to sound awful, but I swear it's not.

"You know what I'm talking about, Alex! I asked you if you regretted what we did. And you said no. But is that not the truth? Do you? Do you regret kissing me?" She steps in close and drops her hands.

"Seeing me? All of me?" Her voice is raspy. I did that to her too.

I lick my lips and mine my soul.

"No, Nikki. I do not regret what we did. And if we went back in time right now, I would do it again. And I wouldn't regret it again."

She chews at her lips that are held together tight.

"But?" she finally lets out.

I swallow.

"But . . . I don't know what's next." There, that's as close as I can get to explaining this churn of uncertainty.

"What do you want to be next?"

That question lands in my stomach like a brick. I'm living a dream. Nikki has always been in a box, one I've built and kept tidy and been very careful not to mess up. Now there is no box. And what if that means she disappears?

"How do I be your friend, and also—" I widen my eyes and tilt my head.

"See me naked?" she laughs out.

I huff and turn around, grabbing the back of my neck in frustration.

"Don't make this a joke," I demand as I shuffle my feet until I'm facing her again.

Her expression doesn't read joke. Her frown has softened, though. She moves into me, pulling my arm down and skimming her palm down my forearm until she takes my hand in hers and flattens it on the center of her chest.

"I'm not going anywhere," she says. And for the first time since I left her room this morning, my shoulders relax and my stomach pauses its churn.

"No?" I stare deep into her eyes, not a hint of anything but resolve in them.

She shakes her head then slowly inches closer, moving her other hand to the neck of my hoodie as she lifts up on her toes.

I suck in my bottom lip and nod before kissing her, soft and sweet, nothing like the rabid animal I was last night. Her lips are like a gift, and just having her touch me somehow makes things better.

"Now, are you coming to this party with me? Or not?" Her mouth lifts on one side.

I roll my eyes, then swing an arm around her and coax her to walk alongside me, stuck to me like glue.

"Yeah, I guess we can party."

I walk her back to her room, kissing her one more time before promising to be back within the hour to pick her up for dinner at Patty's then a party with the fools on my team. That feeling creeps back into my chest, though, when I'm about halfway home. And I finally pin down the source of everything.

It's not Nikki I'm worried about. It's me. And so far this year my track record for holding the important shit together is zero for two.

*********