Benching Brady (The Perfect Game Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “I don’t doubt it.” She unhooks me from the TENS. “Now, do you want manual, uh … massage, er … a shoulder rub?”

  She stumbles over the words as she blushes. Yeah, she’s thinking about giving me manual therapy all right. I’ve been thinking of nothing else for the past twenty-four hours.

  I laugh. “You bet I do. Why else do you think I come to this popsicle stand?”

  Chapter Five

  “Class, please welcome our new student, Natalie Maddux,” Mr. Sears says. “Natalie’s family just moved here from Indiana. Let’s be sure to make her feel welcome.”

  I look up from my mindless doodles to see who has the same last name as my favorite baseball player. I see what must be the sweetest-looking sixteen-year-old girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. She looks around the room, confident yet nervous at the same time. I will her eyes to catch mine. Look at me.

  She does – only for a second – but I’m sure it’s a second longer than she held anyone else’s gaze.

  And I know for a fact that Algebra II just got a lot more interesting.

  Natalie takes an empty seat in the front of the room. I sit in the back. I always sit in the back. And it gives me forty-five whole minutes to stare at her and think of how I’m going to play this.

  When the bell rings, I quickly gather my things so I can catch her on the way out. Surely she needs to be shown where her next class is. But before I reach her, Lisa Matheny corners her just outside the door.

  I stand back and lean against a row of lockers, watching her as she talks to Lisa. She notices me staring and her cheeks pink up. Her eyes dance between Lisa and me, and when Lisa says something that makes her laugh, the soft melodic harmony of the giggle makes my dick twitch.

  I take in her innocent, girl-next-door appearance. She has dirty-blonde hair that can’t decide if it wants to be straight or curly. She tucks a strand of it nervously behind her ear at my perusal. Her skin is creamy and pale, outing her as a brand-new SoCal girl. I’m not close enough to see the color of her eyes yet. But I’m sure whatever shade they are will be my new favorite color.

  She’s gorgeous.

  Indiana must be heaven, because I could swear she’s an angel.

  Finally, Lisa leaves and I don’t miss a beat before walking up to Natalie.

  “Hi,” I say, holding out my hand. “I’m Brady Taylor, future MLB star and a huge fan of Indiana. And anyone with the name Maddux is destined to be a friend of mine.”

  She makes that glorious giggling sound again as she shakes my hand, not pulling it away after the requisite two-seconds. We both look down at our hands, then up at each other. And we just know. Before she even speaks a word to me – we know.

  “I’m Natalie Taylor,” she says, starting to float up into the air. “And I am an angel, Brady, don’t you know that? I’m your guardian angel.”

  I awake with a start, cursing myself when I roll onto my left side and pain reminds me of my new reality.

  I roll back over and grab the pillow next to me, pulling it tight, wishing it were Nat. Wishing Keeton was going to bound through the door at any second and work his way between us, begging us to turn on the TV so we can all watch SpongeBob SquarePants.

  The day we met was one of the best days of my life. Natalie and I became inseparable after that. And when I got offered a scholarship to the University of Nebraska, she applied as well. It was going to be us against the world. No matter what.

  My phone rings, giving me a welcome distraction.

  I reach over and pluck it off the nightstand to see another beautiful face.

  “Hi, Murphy,” I say, still groggy from sleep.

  “Oh, shoot. Did I wake you? Wait, it’s almost ten o’clock.”

  “No, it’s fine. I was just getting up anyway. And there’s nothing better to do here. Might as well catch up on my sleep.”

  “You’ve been there for almost two weeks now, haven’t you found a routine yet?” she asks, knowing most ball players are creatures of habit.

  “I have. It consists of sleeping, PT, and sometimes the beach. I have to say, I’m rocking quite the tan. But it’s boring as hell.”

  “Caden told me you aren’t going out much. Why not? That doesn’t sound like you. Are you depressed? It’s okay if you are – understandable even, but keeping yourself holed up in your hotel room most of the day isn’t going to make things better. You need to get out and have some fun.”

  “I’m not depressed.”

  Silence.

  “Okay, so maybe I am a little bit. But it’s no big deal, Murphy. I just miss the game. I’m fine.”

  “Promise me you’ll try to go have a little fun. I can’t stand the thought of you down there by yourself doing nothing.”

  “I’m not doing nothing. I’m almost caught up on Game of Thrones.”

  She laughs. Then I hear her sigh. “Brady, please.”

  I roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll go out. Are you happy? How many women do you want me to go out with?”

  She huffs into the phone. “I’m not asking you to bed every woman in Tampa. Just find a friend. Another guy in rehab maybe. Someone from the A-team. Anyone.”

  When I think of her request, why is it that Rylee’s face is the first to pop into my head? We’ve become friends, haven’t we? I mean, I’ve talked to her for more than an hour a day for the last two weeks. And it’s amazing how much stuff there is to talk about while still not getting too personal.

  She’s hot, yeah. And she makes my dick jump sometimes when I get a massage, but that’s nothing I have any control over.

  She’s always talking about fun things to do in the city. The aquarium, the trolley, the pier. Things the guys and I haven’t done before because they just seem too juvenile for a bunch of grown men to do. Maybe if I promise to keep my hands off her, she’ll show me some of them. I know what she thinks of me. She made it clear on that first day. And Rylee Kennedy is not anyone’s Friday night gal – I could see that from the moment I met her. But just maybe she would agree to be my Friday night friend.

  “Brady, are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Sorry.”

  “How’s the PT going?”

  “Okay, I think. I still can’t feel some of my fingers for shit though. But we’re going to start working on my elbow rehab today.”

  “That’s good. Any idea how long you’ll have to stay?”

  “I’m not sure, but at least another six weeks or so.”

  “You know the team will be down in a few weeks, right?”

  “Can’t come fast enough if you ask me.”

  “At least you’ll have a few days with them.” She pauses. “Will it bother you to see them? Are you going to go to the games? I’m sure it must be hard to watch them play.”

  I nod even though she can’t see me. “I’m not gonna lie. It totally blows watching other guys play ball. But, yeah, I think I’ll go hang out in the dugout when they are here. It certainly can’t make things worse. Plus, who knows how many more opportunities I’ll have to sit in there with them.”

  “Oh, Brady,” she says in that sympathetic motherly tone.

  “It’s fine. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

  “Sooooo …”

  I can tell she has news and I feel like a dick not asking about her sooner.

  “What is it, Murphy?”

  “I’m going to try my hand at modeling again.”

  “No shit? That’s fantastic. Tell me more.”

  “Well, Mason, Griffin and Gavin have been working with some local designers to brand a clothing line for the gym and they’ve asked me to be the model.”

  The guys she speaks of are the owners of the gym she helps manage. Caden got her a job there when they first met because he’s friends with Mason, who plays for the Giants. I’m really pleased to know she wants to try modeling again. It was her passion when she moved to New York. One that got crushed by a baseball – just like mine did.

  “Knowing Mason, he doesn’
t do anything small and you’ll be on the cover of every fitness magazine in the world.”

  She laughs. “I don’t know about that, but I think it will be fun. Especially since Griffin will do all the photo shoots.”

  “Well, congratulations, girl. I’m so happy for you.”

  “There’s more,” she says.

  “More?”

  “Yeah. And I know you are going to have a knee-jerk reaction to this, but just hear me out. The season will be over soon, so it’s perfect timing. And you’ll still be rehabbing when you come back. It’ll give you something to do, maybe even something to feel good about, and the bonus is, you’ll get to hang out with me.”

  “What are you talking about, Murphy?”

  “Oh, right. Well, the guys aren’t only designing clothes for women – it’ll be for men, too. So, they’ll need a male model and …”

  “Fuck, no.”

  “See – I knew you’d have that reaction.”

  “I’m a ball player, not a model.”

  “Plenty of athletes are models. Look at all the guys who model jeans and tightie-whities.”

  “No.”

  “Come on, Brady. Just think about it. We all know you don’t need the money, but that’s just an added bonus. And think of who you’d be working with. Griffin is one of the most awarded photographers in the world. And he’s so nice – not like a lot of other photographers who are pushy and demanding. And you’ll get to hang out with Mason, too, since football season will be over – well, unless they go to the Super Bowl. And there’s me – I want to spend time with you. Caden gets you three-quarters of the year, this is my chance. Please? Just give it some thought.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. Murphy Cavenaugh is damn hard to say no to. But a model?

  I wonder if she’s just asking me because she thinks I’m done in baseball. Maybe she’s trying to give me a back-up profession like Caden helped give her.

  “I don’t know.”

  She squeals into the phone. “I’ll take it. I don’t know is better than no. And it’s definitely better than fuck no.”

  I breathe out a sigh. “I don’t know means I don’t know, Murphy. Don’t read too much into it.”

  “Fine. They don’t need an answer right now. Like I said, it will be a few months before things will start moving forward. You have plenty of time to think about it.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.”

  I can almost hear her smile through the phone. I can see why she has Caden wrapped around her little finger. Murphy is one of the most caring, empathetic, trustworthy women I’ve ever met. She, and the angel I woke up with this morning.

  I check the time. “Hey, I have to go. I’ve got to be at PT in an hour.”

  “Okay, good luck with your elbow today. I miss you, Brady.”

  “Miss you too, girl.”

  After we hang up, I fish Lenny’s card out of my wallet and tell him I won’t be needing a ride today. Today, I get to walk to PT. Rylee said it was okay to start doing that now since my elbow has healed enough to be jostled around more. And right now, Rylee owns me. She controls almost everything I do. What she says goes. She’s the boss.

  And I find myself getting turned on just thinking about it.

  Chapter Six

  “I’ve been offered a job,” I tell Rylee.

  She stops moving the ultrasound device and looks me in the eyes. “You have a job.”

  I look down at my arm that is sore as hell after today’s PT. “We don’t know that yet, do we? My forearm still burns. My fingers are numb and I still can’t grasp anything worth a shit.”

  “It’s been two weeks, Brady. You have to give yourself time to heal. A hundred-mile-an-hour ball hitting your arm does a lot of damage. You’re expecting too much. You are progressing at an acceptable level. You should be happy with that.”

  “Acceptable?” I say, deplorably. “I’ll never pitch again if I’m just acceptable. I need to be exceptional, Ry.”

  She raises a brow at me. “Ry? We’re using nicknames now?”

  I shrug and she giggles.

  “I have every reason to believe you will be exceptional again, Bray.”

  I give her crazy eyes and we fall into a fit of laughter.

  “Yeah, it doesn’t quite work on you, does it?”

  “No, it doesn’t. But my driver calls me BrayTay,” I tell her.

  “Your driver?”

  “The guy who drove me to and from here for the past two weeks. Lenny.”

  “You hired a private car?”

  I can tell she disapproves.

  “No. He was one of my first Uber drivers when I got down here. The guy kind of grew on me and I figured it would be easier than getting a rental and driving with one arm. So I got his card and have been using him ever since.”

  “Wow. He must feel like he hit the jackpot.”

  I laugh. “Yeah. I’m a good tipper.”

  “So you’re stuck at the hotel without a car unless you call Lenny.”

  “Pretty much. But it’s only a two-minute walk to the beach.”

  She scolds me with her eyes.

  “I was careful,” I say. “Plus, those restrictions are lifted now, right? When can I start running?”

  “Let’s give that another week or so, shall we? You’re going to need all your strength to keep up with my PT.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Has anyone ever told you you’re the Queen of Pain?”

  Her face breaks into a beautiful smile. “All the time.”

  “Can I ask you a question, Ry?”

  “As long as it’s not a personal one.” She winks at me.

  “It’s not. The doc in New York gave me a twenty-to-thirty percent chance at a full recovery, yet you tell me I’ll be exceptional again. Why?”

  “Brady, I couldn’t very well do my job if I didn’t believe what I do will help people. It’s true, there are some people who will never completely recover, but I have to believe in myself in order to believe in you. And you shouldn’t want anyone working on you who thinks differently.”

  “Damn, girl.”

  “What?” She cocks her head to the side.

  “You’d get along great with my friend, Murphy.”

  She puts away the ultrasound wand. “I’m not looking for a setup.”

  “Murphy is a woman, Rylee.”

  “Oh, well in that case, I’d love to meet her.”

  “She lives in New York. She’s engaged to my best friend, Caden.”

  “Kessler?”

  “The one and only.”

  She gets a sweet, dreamy look on her face. “Oh, my gosh. Is she the home run girl?”

  I laugh at the nickname the sports community dubbed Murphy after she was hit by his ball.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well then, I have to meet her. Will she be coming with Caden when you guys play the Rays?”

  “I don’t think so. She doesn’t travel with him much. She has a great job.”

  She hooks me up to the TENS unit and then starts typing away in my chart. Then she looks up as if she just remembered something. “Speaking of jobs – what was the offer you got?”

  I nod. “That involves Murphy, too. She wants me to be a friggin’ model, can you believe that? The gym she works for is the largest in the city and the owners are developing their own brand of workout clothing. They’ve asked her to be the female model and me to be her male counterpart.”

  “Oh, wow. Is that the gym Mason Lawrence owns?”

  “Yes. How’d you know?”

  “You said it was the biggest. When I was in PT school, people would talk about that place all the time. Did you know they have an athletic trainer and a PT on staff?”

  “I did know that. Mason is a friend. I also work out there in the off-season, so I’ve used all of their services.”

  “So it sounds like you could do the modeling in addition to your day job, no?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Why not do it then?”

&n
bsp; I shrug.

  “Oh, you think you’re too big for it. Is that why?”

  “No,” I pout.

  “You think a big-time MLB pitcher is too good to pose in workout clothes for his friend’s gym, don’t you? A friend who could very well profit greatly by having you do so. And his gym will prosper, possibly creating more jobs for people and surely resulting in increases in pay for those who already work there. Do you not want Mason Lawrence to be your boss or something? Are you one of those guys who is all alpha-male and can’t stand having other people tell them what to do and how to do it?”

  “You’re pretty bossy and I don’t seem to have a problem with that,” I tease.

  “Maybe not when your livelihood depends on it,” she quips.

  “I don’t think I’m too good to do it,” I argue.

  “Then do it. What do you have to lose? It will give you something to do until you are one hundred percent.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. Keeping busy is good for the mind and it actually helps injured players deal with life better.”

  “I’ll take that into consideration.”

  She goes back to her typing, but talks to me as she does it. “In fact, maybe you should think about getting that rental car. Sitting around all day is not going to help your recovery. You need to get out there. See the city. Have some fun.”

  “Or you could pick me up on Friday and show me the town.”

  She stops typing and looks at me abhorrently. “I’m not dating an athlete, Brady. Not to mention it violates my contract to date a player.”

  “Ha! You can thank Sawyer Mills for that. They even amended the wording to include family members of employees after not one, but two daughters of team coaches complained about him last year. But rest assured, I’m not asking you out, Rylee. I’m just asking a friend to show me the town.”

  “I don’t know. And you’ve seen the town, Brady. Lots of times.”

  “I’ve seen the inside of bars, Rylee. I’ve never seen Tampa through the eyes of someone who lives here. You said yourself there are lots of places to see. So show me.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And, hey, what’s so bad about dating an athlete?”