Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“I sure do,” he says wistfully.
That sound hooks right into my heart, yanking it toward him. He’s been through so much. Losing his career, losing his wife, fighting for his own mental health.
Look at him now though. A great dad with a great kid.
Fuck waiting for the perfect moment to broach the topic. I love my niece, and I love my brother so damn much. “Gage, that’s one of the reasons I want this deal to come together. Whenever I think about the day you told me you could never play again, my heart hurts for you all over again. I wish I could find a way to fix your elbow. To give you back baseball.”
“Zane,” he says gently. “I’m okay. I’ve moved on. I’ve handled it.”
“I know,” I say, my throat knotting. “But I also know you lost something that mattered to you, and I’m lucky enough to still play. I never want to take that for granted. I want to do the most with my career that I possibly can. And that means not only protecting my future, but also yours and Eliza’s if you’ll let me. I want to start a college fund for her,” I say, my shoulders tight with the hope he’ll say yes. “One that I’d handle completely. She’d be all taken care of soon. Won’t take long, and you’d never have to worry about it.”
He’s quiet for several seconds that ratchet up the tension in my bones. “Ah, hell, Zane,” he says, choking up. “I don’t want to have to take you up on that.”
But I hear his reluctance to say no, and I seize the chance to make my case. “I know you don’t want to, but would you let me? I’m making a decent salary that covers all my bills and a whole lot more. I’m putting plenty away for my future. I want to do this. Just in case,” I say, imploring him. Gage may have to do the parenting himself, but I can pitch in with Eliza this way. “I want to help.”
Gage sighs deeply. “Of course I want her to go to school,” he says, clearing his throat like he’s trying to clear away the emotions. “But I also don’t want you to stress about me and my kid. Just focus on your job.”
He’s such a big brother. Wanting to take on the weight of it all. That out-of-control feeling bubbles up in me again. “But you’re why I have this job. Because you taught me to play. You threw to me. You practiced with me. You still give me pitching tips. I want to give back,” I say, pleading.
He takes a beat. “You’re so pushy,” he mutters, but there’s amusement in his voice.
I chuckle. Yes! I’m getting through. Demanding Zane is getting his way.
“And you like it. Because you’re not such a stubborn big bro all the time. Sometimes you let the little brother take care of things,” I say, finishing my closing argument. I bet Maddox would be proud of me.
“Then I’ll stop saying no.”
I grin from the center of my soul. “Yes, thank you!”
“No, thank you,” he says, full of gratitude, and I’m so damn happy to put that feeling in his heart. “But I also noticed you said nothing about the guy…”
I hear the question in his voice—is there someone?
I wish.
“There’s a guy, but we’re not together, and I don’t think we can be,” I say, switching gears in a sharp one eighty. Now I’m the wistful one.
“Why not?”
But I promised Maddox I’d keep our secrets, and I want to be a man of my word. “It’s just…complicated. But I feel better after talking to you,” I say, deflecting.
A laugh bursts from Gage. “I did literally nothing. How did I make you feel better?”
I smile. “Turns out, I had a lot of things on my mind. You helped me solve one of them. The man stuff? I’ll have to keep working on that.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me. Happy to talk about your man stuff anytime.”
“I know.”
We say goodbye and I head into the ballpark, a little lighter. I’ll still need a poker face for the dinner, but I’ve crossed a big hurdle.
One that’s been weighing on me.
Somehow, I’ll find a way to survive dinner with Maddox LeGrande.
A fastball whizzes over the plate, and I take a big swing, sending it flying deep into the outfield. “Grand slam,” I call out, then I thank the batting practice coach and head off the field after a kick-ass batting practice.
The game starts in an hour, and I can’t wait.
I’ve always loved playing the Comets. This ballpark in the Bronx is steeped in history. So many legends have played here. These forty thousand mostly empty seats will be filled soon with rabid Comets fans who hate every other team.