Page 165 of Challenge Me

The frown had been a near-permanent fixture on my face for most of the day. From my post on third, I looked up at the stands. Avery and Mal were there, as they always were during home games. The seat to Mal’s left was empty despite being in the fourth inning.

Before the game started, Remi had texted me that he was running late. He’d missed nearly half of it now, and I had no clue what could be keeping him. I didn’t want to think the worst, but it was getting to that point.

A sharp whistle drew my attention to the Braves dugout. Trav was inside with his arms crossed. He gestured toward where my family was seated, but all I could do was give him a small shake of my head. He tapped his fingers on his biceps, no doubt wondering the same thing I was.

The crack of a bat hitting the ball forced me to refocus. The guy on second hauled ass toward me, and I held my glove up. From first, Jeffrey threw the ball. It landed in my mitt with a solid thud as I backpedaled, but the runner started to turn back around. I waited for him to reach the halfway point before I sent it to Maverick. There was a smirk on his face when he caught it just before the Braves player hit the base.

And that was three.

Trav veered toward me as the teams switched places. “Did he leave you already?” he asked in passing.

I punched his arm, and his laugh carried as I returned to the dugout.

“I can see it now,” Jeffrey announced in his best sports commentator voice. “Amir Darya becomes a violent abuser like his boyfriend.”

“Oh, shut up,” I groaned.

“Major League’s sweetheart is the duo’s next unwitting victim,” Kev joined in, clapping me on the shoulder. “McKinney’s poor choice in friends strikes him out.”

Jeffrey hopped from one foot to the other while he punched an imaginary bag. “One-two combo, fastball to the jaw.”

“It’ll be the hit of the season.”

“Technically it was a bunt,” I said. “He leaned into it.”

They both roared with laughter. It never really hit me how much I missed these fuckers when we were in the off-season. They were single guys, so our home lives were a little different, but all of them were like Mal’s overprotective uncles. They’d been livid when they heard about what happened with the press the other day. If I didn’t talk them down, they’d probably go to war against every single journalist that had been there that day.

Maybe that was what it would take. Remi and I hadn’t had a chance to talk in person since he left for the bar yesterday, but I didn’t need to ask to know what it was doing to him. Just thinking about Evan made me feel sick, so I couldn’t imagine where he was at with the whole thing.

After pulling on my batting glove, I grabbed my bat and stepped onto the field. I spun it while I watched Maverick hit the ball into centerfield. He made it to first, making him the only one on base. With one out, we were sitting pretty for the moment.

As I headed for the plate, I eyed McKinney. There was something intimidating about him on that mound, but it never got to me. If anything, I preferred facing off with him because he was a challenge. I knew he felt the same about me. He was the best pitcher in the league right now, and I was one of the best batters. A match made in heaven, truly.

He got me with the first throw, but I readjusted my feet and waggled my brows, making his lips twitch. More than once, our friendly rivalry had drawn commentary from people with no lives. Since the days Remi and I stayed at his place, they’d taken to calling us best friends. I wouldn’t go that far, but that kind of publicity didn’t bother me, especially in the wake of all the negative press.

I clipped the second one, but it went into the crowd. Travis caught the ball the umpire threw to him, and he brought it to his mouth to blow on it. With a smirk, he rubbed it on his glove like he was polishing it. Some people in the stands cheered him on, chanting his name. He put his hand to his ear, encouraging them. Sure enough, they got louder. Since this was my stadium, the Red Sox fans outshined them, but it didn’t seem to bother Trav one bit.

He pointed his glove at me, then took his position. He shook his head slightly, and it made me want to look back at the catcher. If he was out to impress after his little ego boost, he might go for a knuckleball. Judging by his apparent disagreement with Vincent, it was a valid possibility. He’d fucked us more than once with that throw during the World Series, but I didn’t think he’d choose something so obvious.

If I had to venture a guess, he’d go for velocity, straight down the middle. His four-seam fastball would strike out the best batters if they weren’t perfectly locked on. There was pitcher error, of course, but I’d be an idiot to put any stock in that.

When he moved his throwing hand behind him, I felt confident that he was adjusting his grip for exactly that.

Bring it on, McKinney.

The ball left his grip like a missile. If I hadn’t been prepared for it, I would have swung at empty air. The strike of the bat reverberated in my hands. I let it fall and took off, not caring where the ball had gone. I just wanted to get on a fucking base.

My foot hit first, and I rounded it without slowing. When I was nearly to second, I saw the man there holding his glove up. Not letting myself second-guess it, I continued forward. With his toe on the base, all he had to do was catch the thing and it’d be over for me. So, I dove. The connection with the ground was jarring, and it took me a second to look up. I saw the umpire cross his arms and thrust them to the side. Dropping my head, I gave myself a second to take a breath.

When I got to my feet, I smacked my hands together to remove the dirt. “He’s losing his touch, huh?”

The baseman snorted. “Don’t worry. We’ll wipe the floor with you like we did in Atlanta.”

“Looking forward to it.”

As Kev tapped his bat on home plate, I looked up at Mal. She was significantly taller than usual, and my heart picked up speed when I processed what I was seeing. Remi had both of his arms in the air, shouting something that I couldn’t hear. She held onto them, trying to stay steady. The smile on her face threatened to make my knees weak.

For a second, I dipped my head to collect myself. When I looked at them again, Remi wiggled his fingers in a wave.