Read Rundown (Curveball Book 2) Online
Authors: Teresa Michaels
There
was an uncomfortably long pause. He studies my face, likely
trying to discern how serious I am.
“
I’m
giving this another day before I notify the Red Sox management.”
“
If
that’s what you want. I won’t change my mind though.”
“
Why’d
you go through the hassle of spring training? You’ve only
played one regular season game.”
“
My
parents never saw me play a regular season game in my professional
career before today, and neither did Breanne for that matter.
In a way I did it for them and the fans…but I also did it for me.
Besides, I wanted to go out on a high note.”
With
one hand on his hip and the other cupping his mouth, Brett strode in
front of me for what felt like forever. When he stopped and
starred at me blankly, I expected another round of arguing.
“
Congrats.
I’m really happy for you,” he said, stepping forward to shake my
hand. “Congrats on the baby and on your last win. If
you decide to come back in a few years I’m sure we can make that
work.”
“
Thanks.”
“
What
the hell are you going to do with all your free time in between
ultrasounds and Lamaze class?” Brett asked, amused.
“
I’m
going to be a Yankee.”
“
A
what?”
The
confused shock on his face was priceless.
Bringing
my attention back to the present, I address the reporter’s
question.
“
It
was an easy choice really. I’m originally a New Yorker and
becoming a Yankee was one of my childhood dreams. Getting the
opportunity to coach for them is a natural next step.”
“
Ace!”
A spunky reporter in the front row demands my attention.
The
relentless one.
Breanne squeezes my hands but I ignore them
both and instead select a guy in the back row.
“
Yes,
you.”
“
Thank
you, Mr. Scott. Today’s game against the Dodgers will be
tough with Johnny Williams on their roster. Having led the
league in home run’s last year, Johnny was quoted as saying the
Yankee’s are ‘a joke’. Care to comment?”
“
Johnny
Williams can—”
Sharp
claws dig into the palm of my hand.
Damn woman!
“
It’ll
be a great game,” I groan. “Next.”
“
Aren’t
you too young to retire?” the reporter I’ve been avoiding
shouts. “I mean, what could have been more important than
your fans?”
My
head snaps to Breanne, who I’m positive is having a seizure…but
no, it’s just her silent laughter.
“
My
career in baseball is far from over, it’s evolved. There are
plenty of ways to contribute to the sport without being on the
pitching mound. I’m here today after all.” A few fans
laugh. “To answer the second part of your question, I love my
fans. They’ve been incredibly supportive. But nothing
means more to me than my family.”
Aubrey
blushes as every female in the crowd ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’.
Alright,
so I don’t coach for the New York Yankees…I’m coaching Colin’s
little league team. The kids were so psyched about it. When
they came up with the idea for a mock opening day press conference, I
couldn’t resist. Parents got to help their kids come up with
questions, and even though Aubrey is technically too young to
participate, she’s got a mind of her own.
Breanne
tugs at my arm forcing me to lean closer. Grinning from ear to
ear, I await her praise for handling the crowd and my thoughtful
comments.
“
Who
were you trying to impress? The players or their mothers?”
“
The
only woman I’d ever try to impress just drew blood from my hand.
Besides, I think all the cougars can tell I’m taken.” I rub
her protruding belly. She gets more beautiful the bigger her
belly grows, and each time I look at her I think,
I did that.
I created life. I am the fucking man.
“
We
should get you a ring.”
“
I
have something better in mind.” I wink at her, loving her
newfound jealous streak.
Dismissing
the thought for now, I return my attention to the crowd. “Alright
everyone, I think that’s enough questions for now. Let’s
play ball.”
A
few hours later, I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom, staring
at the half-packed boxes that are littered around the room.
Man, I hate packing. Had I not been double-crossed a handful of
times I probably wouldn’t have minded professional movers touching
my shit, but it is what it is. Finishing the box that contains
my pictures and other important memorabilia, I decide I’ve had
enough. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow and we’re
leaving before sunrise. I should get home.
Everett
helps me load a few boxes into the car before I lock up. On the
drive to Breanne’s I shoot her a text, letting her know I can pick
something up for dinner if she wants. She responds with an all
caps ‘YES’ followed by four exclamation marks. In her
world, this is code for pizza.
“
You
still going through with your plans for tonight?” Everett asks.
“
Yeah.
Breanne’s father and Sarah agreed to watch the kids for a few
hours.”
“
Does
Breanne know yet?”
“
Not
yet,” I reply with a smile.
Her
comment earlier today about me getting a ring was perfectly timed.
We agreed not to get married until after the baby was born. Breanne
wanted to look her best in her wedding gown, which is ridiculous.
She could wear a paper bag and be stunning. I protested,
wanting to make it official but when she reasoned that if we waited,
all of the kids could be present for the ceremony and in the
pictures, I relented. It made perfect sense.
Being
in a committed relationship doesn’t mean other people take a hint
and back off, though. Breanne’s not typically the jealous
type but lately a few female fans have gotten out of control.
That’s why tonight I’m starting phase-one of my plan to make it
publically clear that I’m off the market…ring or not. The
next phase involves showing it off to the world when I grace the
cover of Sports Illustrated next month.
The
evening is pure chaos from the moment I enter the door. The
girls are fighting over a doll, Colin’s mad that he has to miss a
friend’s birthday party this weekend because we’re going to New
York, and Breanne’s frustrated that I won’t tell her where we’re
going after dinner. Putting on a button up dress shirt does
nothing to help the situation as she immediately thinks we’re going
somewhere fancy and claims she has nothing nice to wear. Telling
her to wear sweats only makes it worse. Overwhelmed, I almost
cave…almost.
With
some help from her dad and Sarah, we finally make it out of the
house. As we drive, Breanne takes a quick call from Mark, who’s
relocated to Washington D.C. following rehab. His commitment to
his career hasn’t wavered despite being put on desk duty.
When he left, I wasn’t sure what to expect in terms of his
relationship with the kids and surprisingly it’s been ok.
After
the initial shock wore off, Colin and Aubrey were happy to accept him
back into their lives. To be completely honest, I was jealous.
I worried that the relationship I’d built with them would be
overshadowed by their love for him, but it wasn’t. Yes, he’s
their dad…but I’m their Ace.
Aubrey
started calling me Ace before Mark was back. At first I thought
it was solely about baseball, and I was ok with that. But when
I overheard her telling Colin that she called me Ace because I was
the Sox number one pitcher
and
her number one guy, I fucking
loved it. Now, they both call me Ace.
Maddie’s
a different story. She’s still confused as to how Mark fits
into the picture. A part of me feels bad for the guy that she
doesn’t remember him and continues to call me Daddy…it’s a very
small part.
“
Everything
ok?” I ask as Everett pulls up in front of a brick building in the
center of Cambridge.
“
Yeah,
we were just coordinating plans for next weekend. He’s bummed
about not seeing them this weekend, but he understands.”
Taking
her hand, I help her out of the car and lead her to our location.
I reach for the door at the same time she pulls her hand from mine.
“
What’s
wrong?” I ask. Her brows are furrowed and she looks nervous.
“
This
is where you’re taking me?” she questions.
“
Yup.”
“
Drew,
I’m not—”
“
I
am,” I clarify.
Curious,
she follows me inside. The man behind the counter, who I met a
few days ago, gives me a bro-hug and leads us to a back room.
Settling on the dentist-like chair, I get comfortable and begin
unbuttoning my shirt. Breanne’s biting her lip, and I have to
say I’m enjoying this. Pushing the fabric aside to expose my
chest, I lean forward, grab her hand and place it over my heart.
“
The
outline won’t take long, but you have to stay completely still,”
I explain.
Her
eyes go wide and her bottom lips tremble. “You’re serious?”
“
I
thought it was better than a ring.” I yank her forward so she lands
in my lap.
“
Are
you ok with this?” I ask and she eagerly nods.
The
tattoo artist claps and rubs his hands together. “Alright,
let’s get started.”
A
few hours later, he hands me a mirror so I can see his handy work.
The image of her handprint outlines three phrases I’ll never
forget:
every word;
all yours;
forever.
“
What
do you think?” the tattoo artist asks.
“
It’s
perfect,” Breanne answers for me.