I don’t know how to make this work out. Sam yells again when Kris comes around to score. “What’s with cheering for Martin?”
“It’s been this way since I met Sam. I think he’s her baseball fantasy,” she laughs as she goes back to the game in time for Seno to bat.
Baking is my escape tonight. I don’t want to think about my life.
Chase
Seno and I get back to our room and he directs me, “Get changed. We’re going out with the team. Sam has Sherry and I’ve been told to go get wasted. You should, too. Hurry up!” He makes a quick check in call to his woman and he’s ready in less than five minutes. “Why aren’t you ready? Let’s go.”
“I’m going to stay here.”
“I don’t know what part of this you don’t understand. You’re going if I have to drag you with me. Not trying to get you hooked up or anything, I get it. But, we’re going out and we’re getting wasted. It’s a bad decision with an early game tomorrow, and I’m not going to get away with those much longer. Work with me here and get your ass ready.”
I start to argue, but realize that he needs this and no matter what, he’s always had my back. Time to get wasted.
Seno leads me out of the hotel and we walk a couple blocks to the bar where the team is already drinking. The guys are doing shots and we need to catch up. We order a couple plates of appetizers, a round for the team and a couple extra shots each for us. It’s a whiskey night. I know better. Whiskey nights always get me into trouble. I check my phone and it’s still radio silence from Kristina. I want to talk to her and that means I need to get rid of my phone or I’ll drunk dial her. It would also be a good idea to have a keeper. I know I’m an adult, but me and whiskey usually ends up me and at least one chick in my bed. I haven’t tested this since I stopped fucking every chick that wanted me and the fact that Kristina is ignoring me isn’t helping. Maybe I should text her before I give up my phone for the night or something. It doesn’t matter, she’s not going to call me tonight. Fuck it.
Text to Kristina - Seno dragged me out to the bar to get wasted. I’d rather be talking to you, but he insisted and you don’t want to talk to me. Maybe wasted will be a good thing.
Three shots in and I’m feeling pretty good. Seno and I have been going shot for shot. We haven’t drunk like this since before he met Sherry. It was always a challenge to keep up with him and I refuse to give up. I’m guessing that maybe he hasn’t been drinking as much and this is my chance to out drink him. Mason has our backs to make sure we get back to our room safely with no women, he’s even holding my phone to keep me from drunk dialing anyone. I think he’s entertained by the drinking display and obvious intent to get wasted. It’s a different side of Seno and very few of us have seen it. It’s always been a few of us drinking when this happens, not the whole team. I mean, of course I’d drink regardless and go for luck, but I was being a kid that knew a chick would be waiting at his hotel room door to fuck him, too. The next two shots arrive together and they’re doubles. We shoot them both quickly and hang out with the team.
Mason’s looking at a phone and I’m hopeful that Kristina has made contact, but he sees me looking and shakes me off. Most of the team is in pretty good condition. Things are a little hazy for me around the edges. Seno stands up to go to the head and he’s wavering, or maybe that’s my eyesight. I’d say we both achieved wasted. He turns back to me and smiles, “My daughter’s name is going to be Elle. Don’t tell her it’s because I like doing it in elevators, okay?”
“No problem, dude.” He turns and walks away, and I know he’s wasted. I smile at the information he provided. Who knew Seno was a kinky bastard! It makes me happy to know he isn’t all business like he wants everybody to think. Sherry got extra points with me, too. Lucky dude, got the right woman and she puts out in elevators. I’m happy for him.
It hits me like a brick that I may never talk to Kristina again. I don’t really believe that will happen. She works at the stadium. But, the reality is she could be done with me. My chest hurts. I don’t think she was using me. I don’t think I was a notch on her bedpost or a player conquest to add to her collection. She’s not that kind of chick. Yeah, she was at the party in Arizona, but she was working at the stadium there, too. And, she left me hard and wanting, she didn’t fuck me. No, she’s not that type of girl. Kristina’s real. I’m worried about her. I promised I wouldn’t hurt her and now I’m wondering if somehow I did without knowing it. I never want to hurt her. I wonder if she knows how much she’s hurting me right now. This must be love. I’ve heard it’s a blessing and a curse. Shit, I’ve seen it. If you love someone it gives them the ability to hurt you. The more love you have for them, the more they can hurt you. Yeah, I love her and I’m in deep. I hope there isn’t another dude, that would kill me. I stand up to walk over to Mason and I’m drunk off my ass. I lean on him, “Does anybody know where Kristina is? Is she okay? Is there another dude?”
Mason gives me a painful grin, “I haven’t heard anything about another dude. All I can get out of Michelle is that she’s safe. I don’t get it either.”
“Ask for an update.” I need more.
“I don’t think it’s that kind of a thing.” He looks at me, not liking where this is going.
“Please.” I look at the floor. “I need her to be okay. Do you think she’ll talk to me again?”
“Man, you’re drunk. Maybe we should get you back to the hotel.”
“Just get her on the phone with me.” I feel like I’m begging.
“No, that’s why you gave me your phone. No drunk dialing.” Mason stands his ground.
He’s right. I go back to my seat at the table and nibble on the appetizers. Seno comes back and almost misses the chair when he sits down.
Mason comes to us, “She’s just a chick. There’s always another one. Maybe we should get you guys back to sleep it off.”
Seno adds his two cents, “No, she’s not just a chick. This fool’s totally in love with her. He’s not getting over it any time soon.” He didn’t tell Mason, he announced it loudly to the whole bar in his drunk tone. Fuck me. There were chicks hanging on me within seconds, all offering to help me get over her or show me that they were better for me anyway.
“I’m not interested.” I get up and leave the bar. I don’t know what direction I’m walking. I don’t know which way to get to the hotel. I’m wasted and I hoped that would help numb me, if it’s helping then I don’t want to be sober because this still hurts. The lights all have a glow around them. The sky is dark and cloudy, not like when I have Kristina and the sky is clear with bright shining stars. I feel empty. I want to call her, but Mason still has my phone. I feel better getting outside and away from everybody. I wish she were with me. The other problem is that I don’t have a clue where I am. I see a woman walking toward me and for a few seconds I think it’s Kristina. I don’t know how she found me. It makes sense because she saved me before, so why wouldn’t she find me when I’m lost? Well, she’s in San Diego and I’m in Houston, that’s why not and I can see that it’s not her as the figure walks right by me. I start walking back the direction I came from, thinking maybe I’ll find the bar or one of the guys from the team. Maybe I can get another drink before I go back to my room. Nothing looks familiar. I keep walking because I didn’t walk that far, or I didn’t think I did. I see Mason walking toward me.
“Where did you take off to? You were gone quick and I couldn’t find you. Let’s get back to the hotel.”
“Maybe we could get another drink first.”
“You don’t need it. Let’s get you back. I already got Seno to bed.”
“Can I have my phone?”
“No drunk dialing?”
“No drunk dialing.” He hands me my phone and a text pops through. He looks at my face, ready to grab the phone back away from me.
“Maybe we should just turn it off for the night and you should go to bed.” He tries to slide the phone away from me, but I don’t let him.
/> Text from Kristina - I wasn’t looking for a ball player and I don’t think I can be in a relationship with one. My heart has been broken too many times and I’m not strong enough for you. Goodbye, Chase.
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! I want to throw my phone to the ground and watch it splatter into a thousand little pieces.
Text to Kristina - No. This isn’t goodbye. You are strong enough. You’re everything.
***Error this number is not accepting your messages***
FUCK! She dumped me in a text and blocked me!
To @Kristeeeeeena - This isn’t goodbye. You are strong enough. You’re everything.
To @Kristeeeeeena - I’m not letting you go. I’m coming for you.
To @Kristeeeeeena - We’re not over. You’re still my Sweetness.
“Call Michelle and see if Kristina is there with her.” I stare at Mason waiting.
“I can’t do that. I’m not putting Michelle in that position with her roommate. I’ll call her and let you know if I can find out anything. I know this is killing you.”
“Then do it and get a picture of her if you can.”
Mason shakes his head and dials. He starts talking to Michelle and finally gets to asking about Kristina. We get to my room and he directs me to go inside while he finishes his conversation, so I leave the door blocked for him to keep the door from locking. I hear him end his call and he comes into my room. “Michelle says that Kristina’s a wreck. I was able to confirm that there isn’t another guy. Something about a phone conversation you had with her last night, baseball, and Sherry. Honest, it didn’t make any sense to me.”
I get that we had a pretty deep conversation last night. I know because I felt our connection, too. Was I supposed to tell her I’m falling for her, too? Baseball is my job, I love it and it pays well, but it does have me on the road about ninety days a year, players get hurt and we get traded like commodities. Sherry? I don’t get that part. Maybe Sherry was pushing me on her? I know Sherry thinks I’m a great guy. Maybe she was a mean baking coach? Maybe Sherry is in an overly emotional state, missing her man and Kristina decided it’s too hard? I don’t understand women.
I look at Mason, “Thanks for watching out for me tonight, dude. I appreciate it. Please let me know if you get any more info on Kristina. If you can, please make sure she knows I’m still hers. I’m not giving up on her. I really do love her, Seno wasn’t just being a dick. I’m going to tell her when we get home, even if she doesn’t want me.” Mason pats me on the back and takes off for his room.
Now, I’m sad and my chest still hurts. I admit that I love her and it makes me hurt more. I’m going to tell her when I get back to San Diego. It doesn’t matter if she wants me or not, she needs to know. If it’s my turn to have a broken heart, so be it. She deserves to know that I love her.
I call room service and order breakfast to be delivered, to make sure we wake up in time to get to the stadium and have coffee waiting for us. It’s going to be a challenge and I won’t be surprised if one or both of us get scratched from the lineup tomorrow. I’m feeling too much, so I raid the mini bar and throw back three bottles of whiskey. Seno is completely passed out. I open my laptop looking for a distraction and end up watching videos on youtube. Just when I feel like I might be able to sleep, a string of Foreigner videos starts to play and the whiskey has taken control.
Kristina
It’s the middle of the night and my Twitter is blowing up. I’ve been tagged on a few posts and they just keep going. I check notifications knowing I don't have to respond and curious about what’s going on. It’s Chase. He’s posting videos and directing them to me. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself and I go watch them as he posts them. No words in his posts, simply the link and video. A string of Foreignor,“Feels Like the First Time,” “I Want to Know What Love Is,” “Waiting For a Girl Like You,” “I Don’t Want to Live Without You,” and “Say You Will,” followed by “Just Like Heaven,” “Dive,” and “Turn It Up.” “I Want to Hold Your Hand” is last and the only one with a message, it says ‘please, this is all I want.’ His fans are commenting on the tweets, but he’s not responding. I’m staying invisible, but that doesn’t keep the tears from rolling silently down my cheeks as I watch every single video and realize he’s hurting, too.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chase
Road Trip Day 6: Sunday - Game 3 in Houston
I wake up, startled by room service banging on the door. I sit up and the room spins. Fuck me. Seno speaks, “I got it.”
“I ordered last night to make sure we got up and had coffee. I knew it would be bad this morning.”
“Good thinking. What were you thinking when you drank the mini bar?” With a chastising tone.
“Fuck me. Dude, the room is spinning.” Room service wheels in a cart with breakfast and coffee. Seno tosses the waste basket on my bed and his timing is impeccable. I block rather than catch because everything is moving and blow chunks into the waste basket, as if it was on queue. Seno appears to be just fine and appreciating that I ordered breakfast.
“You need to get it together. We need to get to the stadium.” He looks at me funny, “What were you doing with your laptop in bed last night? Surfing porn?” He walks toward me and clicks the touchpad to see what I was doing. “Fuck. What did you do?”
I look over and my laptop is open to twitter. I was tweeting videos to Kristina and apparently decided to drink more from the mini bar than I thought, since there are a pile of empty little bottles on the floor. I can’t tell you more than that. It’s all I can do to stop vomiting and I really just want the room to stop trying to spin.
“Man, you really can’t be trusted to control yourself.”
“Did she tweet me back?”
“Seriously? You can’t get up, probably will be late to the stadium and end up scratched from the game. And you want to know if she tweeted you? Fuck, dude. You do have it bad.” Seno tosses the other waste basket my direction and goes off to shower. I guess I have to look for myself and that’s not an option right now. This has happened in the past. I blame the whiskey. I know that nobody made me drink it. But, all it takes is somebody to get me going and last night I didn’t want to feel anything, so I had a few more and then the whiskey took over. I don’t remember going back for more, but I know it was me. It reminds me of the nights when I would wake up with women in my bed and not know what I did or what their names were. Sometimes I didn’t know where I was or how I got there. It reminds me of waking up in Arizona covered in hickeys and how the minor leaguers knew I was out of control. The night I was with Kristina and didn’t know her name or who she was and almost lost her completely because I had no way to find her. The morning I woke up with the tail from the mascot costume on my floor and all I could remember was the seal. This isn’t me. No, this isn’t what I want and it definitely isn’t who I want to be.
I think about Kristina’s words while I lay in my bed with my eyes closed. She doesn’t think she’s strong enough. I need to be strong enough for both of us. Whiskey nights are not the way to do that. Whiskey nights are me giving up and running away from the problem. I need to pull it together and get to the stadium. I need an update on my girl. I need strength to make it through three more days and then I’ll find her. Yeah, I’ll find her and I’ll make everything right again. I know she still wants to be mine.
Seno drags me to the stadium and I get there on time, but Skip scratches me anyway. Fuck it. I sit by my locker in the clubhouse and mope, finally getting time to see what I did on social media last night. Videos. I tweeted videos at Kristina. Every Foreigner love song that’s been in my head since she spent the night with me and every song we had ever talked about. I scan through what I did, hoping for a response, but all I got was comments from fans—nothing from the only person that matters. Still radio silence.
Seno walks through the clubhouse and glares at me. He sits in front of me and leans in so I’m the only one that can hear him, “You nee
d to pull your shit together. You need to be in the game and not sitting here accepting that Skip scratched you. I don’t care how fucked up you are or how shitty you feel. Your hangover is your own fault, suck it up. The girl will be there or she was never there to begin with. Don’t waste your time, use it on productive things and get your ass on that field. If nothing else keep busy and get out of your head, the game is your distraction.”
“But,…” Seno cuts me off.
“No fuckin’ buts! I’m here. I’m playing. I’m not letting the rest of my life get in my head. No, I’m making this about being the best I can be. I want my girls to be proud of me. I know Sherry loves to watch me play, and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t you think that I’d rather be with my pregnant wife?” He stops and looks me in the eye. “Okay, now get off your ass and start harassing Skip. I want you on the field and I don’t want to see you sitting around like an emotional teenage boy.” He gets up and goes about his ritual of getting ready for the game.
He’s right. Am I acting like an emotional teenage boy? Fuck that, that’s totally unacceptable. I find water and start following Skip around, making it my goal to get into the game today. I’ve seen Seno do it and he may not start, but he usually manages to get into the game. I harass Skip and start working out, bugging Skip every step of the way and showing him I can do this, showing him that he wants me on that field and running the bases.
Skip finally puts me in as a pinch runner in the seventh inning and I end up part of a double switch, hitting in the pitcher’s spot. I’m motivated and want to show Skip he’s doing the right thing. Brandt is hitting and signs are getting thrown all over the diamond. Brandt and I are communicating with each pitch, I’ve got a huge lead off of first base and the pitcher throws to first. I dive for the base, making it back just in time. I stretch my lead off of first again and the pitch is wild, I steal second standing. The third base coach wants me to steal third, there’s nobody covering second and I’m half way to third when the pitch is thrown. Brandt choppers the ball through the infield and I score on his base hit. The streak continues, we win 4-1.
Star-Crossed in the Outfield (All About the Diamond #4) Page 21
