Spotlight: Chapter 19

“Those moms were absolutely checking you out,” Olivia says, giving me that haughty, one-brow cocked smirk that dares me to disagree with her.

“Did you claw their eyes out?” Sabrina asks her.

We’re out with Archer and his fiancée for coffee while Greer is across the street at the dance studio taking a tap class.

My arm rests along the back of Olivia’s chair and my fingers trail up and down her shoulder. It’s been hard to find time to go out between my schedule and hers, so when she said she had an hour while Greer was at tap class, I jumped at the opportunity to hang out.

“No.” She shakes her head and then glances over at me. “He’s pretty. I don’t blame them.”

“Pretty?” Archer asks. “Did she say Flynn was pretty?”

“Sorry.” Olivia flushes as she angles herself so Archer can better read her lips.

“He heard you. He’s just being a dick.” I squeeze her for reassurance. It can be tricky in group conversations with Archer if everyone isn’t signing, but in this case, he’s just busting my balls.

Archer smiles at her. “Gotta give my little bro a hard time. Besides, we both know I’m prettier, right?”

I scoff, then sign as I say, Sabrina rolls her eyes at us and Olivia relaxes.

I lean over to her and whisper, “I’m definitely prettier, right?”

She laughs softly and lets her stare roam over my face. “Let’s just say those school moms would not have gotten off so easily if they’d done more than look.”

“Ooooh.” Pleasure zips through me. Is it fucked up that I’d love to see her throw down for me? Probably, but damn it’s a good image. “I love a woman that fights for me.”

She shakes her head at me. “You’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly into you.”

“Hopelessly cheesy.”

“Hopelessly turned on. What do you say we ditch these two and go make out in my truck?”

She laughs louder, then smacks me playfully.

“I wasn’t really kidding.”

“This is the only time I have to see you and Sabrina.”

“Fine. Fine.” I sit back in my chair but drop the hand that was around her shoulders to her thigh.

I’m so fucking into this girl. I’ve never been so all in so quickly. I’m a walking hard-on, but it isn’t only about wanting to sleep with her. I’m turned on, but I want to tease and flirt and be cheesy almost as badly as I want to get her naked.

Maybe it’s because I have no idea when that might happen. We’re already sneaking small moments to be together, most of which include Greer, so sex hasn’t really been an option. Well, unless she decides to take me up on my offer to have a quickie in my truck.

At five ‘til the top of the hour, Sabrina stands. “I need to get back to the studio to get ready for my next class. I’m teaching an adult ballet class.”

“Sounds fun,” Olivia says.

“You should come next time. Greer can hang in the lobby.”

“What I meant by sounds fun is that sounds fun for someone who knows ballet. I would be so bad at it. And that would not be fun.”

“Give me three classes and I’ll change your mind,” Sabrina says as she walks off.

Archer pushes back and stands to go with her. “Nice to see you, Olivia.”

Then he flips me off.

I bark out a laugh and sign to him, He grins as he follows Sabrina out of the coffee shop. I turn to Olivia, ecstatic to finally have her to myself, even if it’s only for five minutes.

“Thanks for coming,” she says, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup.

“Are you kidding? I was thrilled to come hang. When are you free again?”

“I’m not sure. I work at the club tonight and tomorrow. Maybe Monday night. I’ll have Greer.”

“I love hanging with Greer. Maybe we can take her skating.”

She smiles. “I should get back before her class is done. What time is your barbecue with the team?”

“I think some of the guys are already there.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Eh…”

“No?”

“They’re not my biggest fans.”

“How come?” The surprised look on her face, like how dare anyone dislike me, is cute.

“They’ve had a lot of guys come and go. Every team deals with it, but I think they’ve felt it more than most.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Loyalty is big here, even for the fans.”

“I just want to play great baseball.”

She laughs softly.

We get up and toss our trash then head outside. We’ve had a stint of warm days this week, but the sun has set, giving the night air a chill.

“Thanks for the coffee.” She starts to leave me, but I reach out and take her hand.

She grins as she turns to face me. I grab her other hand and swing them between us.

“If Greer sees you, she’s going to be mad at me for hanging out with you without her.”

That makes my grin inch higher.

“Fine,” I say with a sigh. I step to her and drop a kiss to her lips then step back with the intent to let her go.

But I can’t. I drop one hand and pull out my phone.

“I’m going to be late,” she says, smiling and inching backward.

I hold my phone up in front of my face.

“Are you taking a picture of me?” she asks.

“No, but that’s a good idea.” When I’m done with my original task, I snap a photo of her too.

Her phone pings, and she reaches for it with a questioning glance.

“What is this?” she asks, then reads my text out loud, “Coffee should have cream and sugar.”

“It should,” I say. She ordered black coffee today and I still can’t believe anyone willingly drinks it without any cream or sugar.

“And you texted me that because?”

“I was going to write you a note, but my handwriting sucks.”

Her gaze narrows.

“Like your grandfather does. Every day at…” I look at the time, “6:59 I’m going to text you my love letter.”

“You can’t steal my grandpa’s sweet gesture!”

“It’s so good though.” I tug her back to me by our joined hands.

I capture her laughter as I slant my mouth over hers. An hour wasn’t enough. I wish I could go back to her place, but JT is having the team over to watch hockey, and I feel like I should take every opportunity I get to know the guys, even if most of them are still not acting that warm toward me.

She groans and pulls away. “I have to go.”

“All right. All right.” I wrap my arms around her and give her one last hug. “P.S. Your butt looks really good in leggings.”

She’s wearing them again tonight and goddamn.

“I do love a postscript.”

“Good to know.” I bury my head in the crook of her neck. It feels physically impossible to let her go. I breathe her in and then scrape my teeth over her collarbone.

“P.S.S. It didn’t matter if the school moms were checking me out or not. Everyone there knew I only had eyes for you.”

Her cheekbones take on a pinkish tint as she smiles shyly. “I gotta go, Hotshot.”

“Okay.” This time I finally let her go.

She takes two steps backward smiling at me and then turns and crosses the street to the studio.

The following day, I’m leaving the stadium after a long practice when my dad calls to say he’s in town. I head straight to the bar to meet him.

He stands and smiles as I approach him.

“You look good,” he says, embracing me. “Did you grow another inch?”

“I don’t think so,” I say, taking a seat on a barstool next to his. “I think your memory is failing you, Pops.”

Grinning, he waves over the bartender for another beer, and I order a Coke.

“When did you get back?” I ask him once we both have drinks in front of us.

He gives his head a shake as he gets a pensive expression on his face. “I’m not sure. Two or three weeks ago.”

“Weeks?” That catches me by surprise.

“Yeah. The last leg of our trip didn’t pan out. The weather was crap, and my back can’t handle riding for those long stretches anymore.”

“Really? You haven’t called or stopped by. What have you been up to?” I ask. I assumed he was still gone since I hadn’t heard from him.

“Oh, you know, working on the bike, doing a couple odds and ends jobs when I get them, and Terri keeps me busy with her honey-do list. She’s decided to paint the entire house in daffodil.”

My brows rise.

“It’s a fancy paint color way of saying yellow. I’m living inside a banana.” He chuckles softly.

I try to mimic the sound, but I’m still caught on the fact that he’s been back in town, and I haven’t heard from him until now.

“I wish you’d have called. I thought you were still on the road or I would have checked in sooner.”

“Eh. I knew you were busy with the team. I saw the highlights from your no-hitter. That was some game.”

“Thanks.” I do my best to shake off any weird lingering emotions. “How was the trip? Did you make it to Yellowstone?”

For the next half hour or so he tells me about the places they rode through, the ones they stopped in, and his favorites and least favorites. By the time I’ve finished my soda, and we decided to get dinner, I’ve successfully managed to put any hurt feelings aside.

I tell him about the Mustangs and how I’m still trying to find consistency from game to game and inning to inning.

“You’ll get there,” he reassures me. “Consistency is just putting in reps. You have the talent and work ethic. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Patience is not my strong suit.”

His mouth quirks up on one side in a smile that reminds me of Knox. They’re the most alike, from their love of motorcycles and really anything with an engine to their facial expressions. Knox would hate me saying it, but it’s true. But all of Dad’s faults as a parent, Knox has gone the other way. He’s loyal, dependable, and up-front about everything. There is no guessing how Knox feels at any given moment whereas, Dad is an enigma sometimes and his dependability is questionable.

These are things I already knew and accepted, or thought I had.

“I can get you tickets any time. Just say the word.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, but it isn’t lost on me that he doesn’t automatically jump at the opportunity to take me up on it. Of course we’re still in spring training. A lot of fans don’t really get invested until we’re playing regular season games.

We spend the rest of dinner talking about random shit. He asks about my brothers, and I give him the rundown. It’s a tight rope to walk in safeguarding their privacy and not feeling like I’m giving Dad information that they might not want him to know. I imagine it’s different in other families, but my brothers have chosen not to have a relationship with our dad, and I try my best to respect that.

“Have you talked to Archer?” I ask him. He’s recently been communicating with him more, but I’m guessing if I haven’t heard from Dad neither has Archer.

“No.” Dad shakes his head and drops his gaze to his food. “I figured he’s enjoying the off-season.”

My brows pinch together. “He’d still want to hear from you.”

It’s a guess but since that’s how I felt it seems like a safe bet.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He nods his head and pushes his plate away from him.

We only stay a few minutes longer. Outside of the bar, we stop along the sidewalk, and I step forward to hug him.

“It sounds like you’re going to be sticking around for a bit. Do you want to do something for your 60 birthday?”

He groans. “Fuck no. I don’t need a reminder that I’m getting old.”

I laugh lightly as he grimaces. “Okay, a birthday celebration where we won’t mention the number. It might be a good way to get everyone together.”

And by everyone, I mean my brothers. It’s happened a few times by accident over the last couple years, my brothers sharing the same space as my dad. They’re all good at showing up for me, which is another thing they have in common, even if they’re too stubborn to realize it.

Dad mulls that over, clicks his tongue, and then nods. “Okay, sure. If you think you can get them to come.”

It’s still a few months away, which is good because I might need that long to convince them.

He doesn’t quite meet my gaze. I know from previous conversations that he carries a lot of guilt and regrets from the past. His attempts at reconnecting with Knox and Hendrick have been met with a lot of resistance. So much that dad hasn’t made any new attempts in a while.

As I’ve built a relationship with him, it’s ignited a dream in me to have all of us together again. I love my brothers, and I love my dad. I know it’ll never be perfect, but it seems like we’d all be happier if we could figure out how to let go of the past and start fresh.

“Leave it to me,” I say.

“All right, Son.” He places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “If you make it happen, I’ll be there.”