Chapter 20

Brooks

I'm not a stalker.I'm just sitting here on the side of the road in my SUV, watching Mackenzie's apartment building so that I can make sure she gets to work okay.

And so I can see if she's eating her bacon.

That's all.

Nothing stalkerish about that.

"This is totally normal," I tell Coco Puff. "It's all in the name of superstition and winning."

He grins at me and licks my arm.

He tinkled on a fire hydrant as soon as we were out of the building, and I high-fived him for not peeing on Mackenzie.

Who I left standing in the hallway without a way to get back into her apartment.

Fuck.

I'm such an idiot.

My phone dings, and I glance at the read-out with half an eye, then a full eye as I realize what it says.

Eloise: Why are you sitting outside Mackenzie's apartment building? Are you spying on the crazy chick?

Brooks: QUIT TRACKING ME.

Rhett: Don't yell at my wife. Ma made us do it.

Brooks: I'm disowning you all.

Gavin: Thank god. I've been waiting for this day for thirty years.

Parker: Duck duck goose.

Knox: Parker's right. Gavin's sarcasm doesn't work well on text, and Brooks, you can't disown us. No one else will ever love you as much as we do.

Brooks: Half of Copper Valley loves me more than you do, and I haven't even helped their team win yet.

Eloise: You need to lay off the jacking off. Sorry, bud. Only thing that'll help.

Knox: Okay, Hot Crazy Pants, I'm gonna have to stop you there. Wait. Hot Crazy Pants. Hot Crazy Pants. E-L-O-I-S-E. Shit. My phone's doing it now too.

Rhett: Bazookarooka, get home now. I'm invoking Code Dead Brother-in-law. Knox is looking at my wife wrong.

Brooks: You know Eloise is the one who made his phone say that. Also, if you kill him, Parker will tickle you to death.

Rhett: Fine. I'll activate my old team. Pigpen's been itching to take him out anyway since the fucker made us all read that Nicholas Sparks book. HE SAID IT WAS A ROMANCE. HE LIED. And now he's making eyes at my wife. He has to die.

Eloise: I love it when you get all pissed at being denied a happy ending. It's so hot.

Jack: *monkey covering his eyes emoji*

Brooks: I'm muting you all.

I turnmy phone off and glance back at Mackenzie's building, then nearly jump out of my skin.

I can't see Mackenzie's building.

Lila Valentine's standing at my window. I hit the button to roll it down, swallowing hard and trying to shove my heart back into my chest, instead of letting it keep hammering up in my throat. "Mornin', boss-lady."

"Why are you stalking Mackenzie?"

I stare at her without blinking. "I'm not stalking Mackenzie."

She lifts her phone again, and there's a message from Parker. It's a photo of a hand-written note.

Brooks is stalking Mackenzie. I'm worried he's going to try to sleep with her and completely destroy his game for good.

I'm torn between an irrational desire to grab Lila's phone and fling it into traffic so no one can ever see that offensive note again, and wanting to high-five my sister for her ingenuity. "Huh. She got around the auto-correct problem."

Coco Puff lunges toward the window and gives Lila the puppy dog eyes that no one can resist. She smiles at him and scratches his ears. "You're such a good boy, aren't you? Is Brooks taking good care of you? Yes? He's spoiling you with treats and love and letting you sleep on his bed? What a good doggy daddy. Maybe next, he can try being happy to be here with this amazing opportunity? Yes? Yes? Would that make you happy, you adorable little puppy?"

"I can hear you."

"I know. I want you to."

"You know my mom's having a voodoo doll made because she's so upset that you took me from her."

She lifts her eyes to mine, and while she might be friends with my sister, she's not going to tolerate my bullshit this morning. "What do you want, Brooks? You can't go back to New York. They were offering you to half the teams they were talking to about trades. You're not doing poorly, but you're not spectacular either. There won't be many other teams who'd take you without also wanting one of our draft picks or partial payment of your contract. Statistically speaking, you've probably already peaked as a baseball player. You're not one of the young guys anymore. So, as your friend, I need to know what you need. How can we help you make this work for all of us?"

I catch sight of Mackenzie's car pulling out of the parking garage, and I crane to see if she's eating the breakfast sandwich I made her. But she turns the opposite direction, and I can't tell.

Dammit.

I'll have to text her.

Lila glances behind her, then looks back at me expectantly.

Hard to miss the Fireball-mobile.

I scrub a hand over my face, realize I forgot to shave this morning, and then drop a hand to scratch Coco Puff's wiry fur. "I was set in my routines in New York. I just—I need a little time to find the new patterns."

I get the eyebrow of I don't believe you.

Like I'm the only one who's done this dance lately. "You didn't need any time to adjust to Copper Valley after living in New York for how many years?"

"Oh, I did. I'll own that. But I did the same thing you're doing too, and I got involved romantically in something that could've been a very, very bad idea."

"You don't think Mackenzie's good enough for me, or you don't think I'm good enough for her?"

She purses her lips and looks up at the sky. "I'm trying very hard to not comment on superstitions or thievery right now, because there are some things I like to pretend I don't know. It helps me sleep at night."

Oh, shit. She knows.

She knows Mackenzie stole the meatball.

I wait until she looks me in the eye, and then I do something I've done so often as the youngest child in my family that I don't even get a blip in my pulse. I lie through my teeth. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

She doesn't believe me, and I know it. But she drops it. "Whatever you did in New York seemed to work for you. Maybe you should associate with the same kind of people and do the same kind of habits."

"I'm hitting the fucking ball."

"Not like you used to. Parker says your game's off. Tripp says your game's off. And half the guys on the team don't trust you yet."

I'm trying hard to care, because I do, despite what she thinks, but I need to let Mackenzie know that she needs to stash that meatball costume right now. "So you think I should get rid of Coco Puff? Lila. That's cruel. At least let me keep my companion for my normal habit of randomly parking on different streets to meditate the morning before every game."

"Also, if you hurt Mackenzie, I won't be responsible for what Tripp and his friends will do to you."

Coco Puff whimpers. Guilt grabs me by the throat. "I don't want to hurt her. I—I'm trying to understand her. To help my game."

Her eyes narrow while she studies me. "I'm so glad Tripp's kids aren't old enough to lie convincingly yet."

"I don't like to suck."

"That, I believe."

"Even in the minors, I never played for anyone but New York. This is all new."

"So how are we going to fix this?"

I glance at my phone, where my siblings and in-laws are still continuing what's undoubtedly a hilarious text conversation without me. They'll probably get together for a book club meeting one night this week. Have dinner together at Ma's house once or twice this month. Heard there are baby showers in the works.

I miss a lot of shit during the season. I wouldn't be there for any of this anyway.

But knowing it's happening five hundred miles away instead of in the same metro area sucks.

I lift my phone. "Can your IT department wipe whatever Eloise put on this to track me?"

"Is there anyone on this planet who can stop Eloise when it comes to electronics? We're talking about the same woman who launched that dick pic phone virus last fall, aren't we?"

Fuck, that was funny. She bricked a third of the phones in the locker room back in New York.

I don't know how many guys on the Fireballs got hit with the same thing. I might've been actively invited to the de-cursing night at spring training—nope, still not telling what we did with the dildo—but I don't know which of my new teammates is most likely to put bubble gum in my helmet or which one most deserves to have his car parked in center field before a game.

I haven't been to these guys' weddings. Haven't gone on a McDonald's run for fries after a late night of drinking after a bad loss, or helped pour a cooler of Gatorade on Santiago after a win.

"If you're out, if you're done, at least do us the courtesy of telling us," Lila says softly. "No judgment here. We know the Fireballs' record. We know we're trying to do the impossible. And we know it's not for everyone. But I hoped you'd give us a chance."

She gives Coco Puff one more scratch behind the ears and steps back. "See you at the ballpark."

"Lila."

"What?"

"You know what works really well for team spirit?"

She lifts a brow.

I wiggle mine. "Matching pajamas for road trips."

"You're hilarious. Don't make things awkward for your sister and me, because I'm pretty sure you're the one who'll lose if you do."

"I'm serious."

"You want matching pajamas. Matching Fireballs pajamas."

Not a question.

A statement pointing out the lunacy of my idea.

"Tell Tripp. Tell Cooper. Then tell me I'm the asshole."

She's giving it serious consideration as she steps away. I can see it in the battle going on in her face.

Good.

I need her distracted. And, despite the fact that she thinks I'm mocking her, I'm completely serious.

There's nothing like everyone looking like idiots and owning the fuck out of it to bring a team together.

As soon as she's gone, I lunge for my phone and pull up my conversation with Meaty.

Mackenzie needs to know that Lila's on to her so she can hide the costume. Or ditch it. Maybe burn it so they can't swab it for her DNA or any stray hairs on the inside of the meatball head.

Yeah.

I'm helping a woman stash a meatball, when I should really be worried about the impact of the meatball missing on the team that's paying my paycheck.

Lila's right.

I have a Mackenzie problem.

But I'm not sure it's a bad problem to have, if I want to get my game back.