Chapter 8

I'm standing at the counter Monday morning chopping up fresh vegetables for the egg bites I prep for the week. While the school provides breakfast for the team after practice, there are some days when I need a little extra protein, which is why I keep a batch in the fridge. Typically I do all my meal prepping on Sundays, but the weather had different plans this week.

Sometime Thursday night, our bathroom pipe froze and busted. Thank God Ty was up and heard the clanking of metal and burst of water. He was able to get to the shut-off valve before there was too much damage. Our landlord has had crews in all weekend getting the repairs made before the team leaves for our first road trip of the regular season on Wednesday.

I can't believe it's been three days since I snuck out of Chloe's house.

After our almost kiss—what the hell was I thinking—I waited a couple of hours before I went upstairs to check on her. I felt horrible that she went upstairs while I slept on her couch in the only room that had heat. If I wasn't such a self-absorbed douche, I would've fought her harder on sleeping in the living room. Instead, I sat there with my hands in my hair and watched her storm out of the room to her bedroom.

When I finally got the balls to man up, I went up to her room to make sure she was warm enough. I had never been in Chloe's room, but let's just say it's everything that I would've imagined Chloe's room to look like. When I peeked my head in, I found her curled up with a mountain of blankets surrounding her body. Warm blond hair was spread across her pillows. I should've stopped when I noticed that she had plenty of blankets to keep her warm.

But curiosity is a motherfucker.

Using my flashlight, I did a quick scan of her space. Creamy white walls filled the room. A light pink velvet headboard was met with more white bedding. Two white bookcases lined the wall opposite her door. The shelves were crammed with books, decorative pieces, and picture frames.

As I stepped further into her room—feeling like the biggest creep ever—there was this feeling I can't quite describe that told me to keep looking around. Next to the bookcases was a long cream dresser with a jewelry box, a small television, and more picture frames.

Reaching for one of the frames, I took in a young Chloe with her dad. She was wearing one of his chef hats inside a kitchen. Curly-haired Chloe with a missing front tooth. I smile at the image as I put it back in its place.

Turning, I notice that there isn't any type of desk in the room. Knowing Chloe, that completely surprises me. I never took her as a do-homework-in-the-living-room type of girl. But she never fails to surprise me.

And that's when my eyes catch on the top shelf of her bookcase.

There's no freaking way.

Carefully, I walk toward the bookcase. My fingers trail over the spines of books before I grab the purple rabbit. Flipping it over in my hand, the soft fur grazes my fingers as memories flood my vision.

I can't believe she kept it.

The next morning I left as soon as I got the chance. The door of my car was frozen, but I was able to thaw it out with a pitcher of lukewarm water. While I waited for the car to defrost, I stole a croissant and a cinnamon roll that was sitting on the girls' counter, knowing who it was that baked the delicious treats, and it wasn't my best friend. The drive back to my house might've taken forty-five minutes, but I couldn't stay at that townhouse any longer.

Once upon a time, I wanted a girl like Chloe. The sweet, caring, nurturing bookworm. The kind of girl who would prioritize your relationship and would always be faithful. But along the way, everything changed.

Now the only priority I have is baseball.

Brynn told me to think about finding a good girl to settle down with, the only problem is I found her a long time ago and fucked it all up.

Now it's just me and the love of the game.

Vibrating pulls me from my thoughts, and I fish out my phone from my front pocket. A long sigh leaves my lips as I see ‘dad' flash across the screen. Dread and frustration pool in my stomach as I internally prep myself for how this conversation is going to go.

"Hello?" I greet setting my knife to the side. Handling sharp objects while on the phone with my dad is never a good idea.

"Are you ready for Wednesday? I saw you'll be the starting pitcher. Their center fielder is their home run hitter, and he loves a curveball."

"No worries, Dad, I survived the ice storm. We only had one pipe burst in our house. Oh, and I'm doing great. How's the family?"

"Lose the smart-ass comments. I don't have time for it. You need to be focusing on your first game since you couldn't play this weekend."

I step away from the counter and rest my body against the opposite counter before running my hand down my face. Frustration seeps from my body.

"It's not like I chose not to play this weekend. You know Texas was blanketed by a freak storm system."

I watch as Hudson enters the kitchen and goes straight to the fridge. He pulls out a bottle of orange juice and sits across from me on a barstool. Twisting the top off, he gives me a questioning look as he takes a long pull of his drink.

My dad continues to berate me on how I need to be focusing, how weak I've become since moving to Texas if I can't handle a little ice, and what I need to be doing to make sure that I'm ready to pitch in my first game this season, even though we've had numerous scrimmages this winter.

The oven chimes that it's reached its temperature. Unfortunately, Dad hears that too. "Did you find a woman to prepare your meals for the week? You always were distracted by a pretty face. Or are you wasting your time in the kitchen? I knew you weren't focused on the game. We all know how easy it is for an injury to occur and your career be over."

I fight to keep the groan from escaping. "No, Dad. I don't have ‘some girl' to make my food for me. I'm perfectly capable of making my own meals. But listen, I've got to go. We have practice in an hour," I lie about that last fact. Practice isn't until this evening, but he doesn't need to know that.

He continues giving me his advice, which ends up being backhanded comments. Yeah, he had an injury his freshman year of college, but there was no way he was going to make it in the pros. He never had the talent or the discipline it takes.

Instead, he calls me daily with updates on how I should be preparing or criticizing how much I sucked at whatever he saw on one of the taped replays of my game. The conversations between the two of us have gotten so one-sided that I'm surprised he even knows what my voice sounds like. The only reason I continue to answer is so that he keeps his focus on me and not my sister, Leah.

I don't even wait for him to be done, I find a lull in the conversation and end the call before tossing my phone on the counter.

"Your dad?" Hudson asks.

"Who else would it be? We have a game in two days." Walking back over to where I was cutting vegetables. I grab the chopped peppers, mushrooms, and spinach and toss them into the mixing bowl of scrambled eggs. Taking a ladle, I scoop the mixture into reusable silicone liners and pop the pan in the oven.

"You could just quit answering his calls."

"You know I can't do that."

"How much longer until Leah's out of that house?"

"Too long." Leah is my younger sister. She's a senior this year, but any time left in that house is too long. I've tried my best to keep the attention off her and focused on me, but it's hard when my dad is a massive control freak.

Niko and Ty both come walking into the kitchen. The four of us get along great, but we're all so different. I think that's why we can live together. None of us are slobs. Although Ty is the worst at picking up after himself, he's not as bad as it could be. Niko just transferred in this year. He's a moody sonuvabitch who keeps to himself. When he does talk, it's usually something important. Otherwise, Niko is the quiet one who sits around listening and observing everyone.

Ty grabs two sports drinks and tosses one to Niko. The two sit next to Hudson at the bar while I wash my dishes.

"The vibe is all off in here," Ty says. I shake my head at his words. He's all about the vibes and harmony. That peace and love bullshit.

Niko stares me down. "Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"

My eyes bounce around my roommates. They all stare me down. No one has mentioned my sudden disappearance Thursday night. We've all been busy dealing with the aftermath of the burst pipe and being pieces of shits who don't move from in front of the Xbox. And I've been busy reliving my night at Chloe's and the things I discovered.

Not only did seeing that purple rabbit surprise me, but I kept reading that MMA romance she gave me way later than I should have. When I left Friday morning, I kept her iPad and finished reading. I was going to just buy the ebook, but I was enjoying reading the story along with the parts she highlighted.

What really surprised me was all the steamy scenes she had annotated. Is she into all the things she highlights in her books? Has she done these things before?

My mind immediately flashes to one of the scenes I just read. A girl on her knees in the bedroom. Waiting on the main guy to return. Submitting to him.

The things he said and the things they did have me quickly picturing Chloe in that same situation, and I feel the blood start to rush south. Before I have a chance to really enjoy the thought of Chloe on her knees before me, I hear Niko's voice interrupting.

"What elephant?" I ask, playing dumb.

Niko's eyes shrink into slivers as he glares at me while Hudson shakes his head.

"Where'd you disappear to Thursday?" Ty prompts.

"Don't worry about it," I answer, shrugging.

Hudson has his famous shit-eating grin on his face. I swear he can read my every move. "Were you at a pretty blonde's house?"

The timer on the oven goes off. Slipping on a pair of oven mitts, I reach inside and pull out the pan of egg bites, setting them on a cooling rack. Turning toward him, I glare back at him, but it only spurs the guys on. "Monica's? You two back to fucking?" Ty asks.

"Hell no. That ship has sailed. Baseball season is here, and I don't need any distractions."

"Brynn's?" Ty guesses again. Technically, he isn't wrong. I nod, ending the line of questions. No one will think anything of it since it's not uncommon for me to stop by her house. And for all they know Quinton was there too.

Niko eyes me skeptically. He's always observing everything and keeping his comments to himself. No doubt he knows I'm full of shit, but he won't say anything.

"Oh, that's not unusual. So why's the energy off in here?" Ty questions, leaning back in his chair.

Reaching for the glass storage container, I quickly toss the egg bites inside. Placing the lid on top, I walk them over to the fridge and place them on an empty shelf. I don't even care that there will be condensation on inside.

"My dad called and started shit. What else is new? But I'm done talking about it. See you guys at practice." And with that, I grab my water bottle and leave the guys sitting at the counter.

"Listen up!" Coach Weber shouts across the indoor facility. "No one could have predicted we'd be canceling our first tournament with an ice storm. But we head on the road in two days, and we need to get focused."

We spent most of the practice running drills to make sure everyone was loose and ready for the game. Once drills were over, the training staff walked us through deep stretching exercises. My body has never felt as loose as it does now. Coach can do this after every practice, and I'd be down for it.

"As I previously mentioned, this season we will have a new reporter from the newspaper staff traveling with us. Answer her questions, don't give her any shit, and if I find out anyone is treating her with any less respect than you'd give one of us coaches, you'll have me to deal with."

"Who do you think it is?" Hud asks from beside me. All of us are resting on one knee in a semi-circle while Coach talks to us.

Shrugging, I keep my attention trained on Weber. I watch as Coach's attention focuses past where the team is gathered in front of him. Hudson turns to follow Coach's gaze, while I couldn't care less about who is joining the staff. I'll do what I'm told and not make a big deal about it.

"Holy shit," Hudson whispers, but not quietly enough, as Weber glares at him while I laugh under my breath. Heads whip to the right as murmurs spark and elbows nudge others. Curiosity finally gets the best of me, and my eyes follow the direction that everyone is staring.

Chloe Mariano stands in front of the team dressed in skin-colored tights, a soft cream and beige plaid tweed dress, white boots that sit over her knee, and a pink wool coat. She looks as feminine and elegant as ever. Damn, why is she wearing that in front of all these guys?

"Damn, who is that?" one of the guys whispers.

"She's fine," someone else adds.

I know she can hear the whispers, but she's not showing any sign of caring.

Instead, she's focusing on me. And the daggers she's throwing my way say she's not too happy to see me right now. Fuck.

"Team, this is Chloe Mariano. Chloe comes to us from the newspaper staff. She will be traveling with us and attending home games to cover the season. I expect Chloe to be treated with respect, while I expect Ms. Mariano to respect your boundaries as well. Let's all work together, keep the drama off the field, and make this a season we won't forget."

Chloe gives everyone a tight smile that seems forced. She lifts her hand in a small wave, and it's then I notice that she's not as tough as she is pretending to be. There's a slight tremor in her hand exposing her nerves.

Did she ask to cover our season? What kind of game is she playing? How long has she known? This is definitely information that should've been shared while we were forced to spend the night together.

This season is shaping up to be one of the weirdest seasons I've faced.

And it better come with a trophy at the end.