Page 52 of Drop Three

Thankfully, my friends live there as well.

As much as I’ve been enjoying my independence at the Motel 6, the sound of a clean room and bathroom sounds glorious. If this were a situation where I was considering a place to stay with Bodhi alone, that would be a hard pass. But with the other guys who are legitimately like my family, I can suffer Bodhi’s silent wrath for comfortable living—also saving money.

I walk backward and spot Uber drivers parked on the side of the road, waiting to give someone a ride before I call out to him, “Thanks for the keys, roomie.”

Despite his frustration at me, a full grin greets me from the distance as he nods. “That was strike one, Navy. Don’t forget, I’m a catcher, and we never lose count.”

I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good.

Is this now becoming a game?

I lied about where I was staying and told him I was planning to date Briggs. But strike one?

What happens when I get to three? Is this a game either of us can win?

14

BODHI

It’s beena month since Navy officially moved into the house and made Cal’s old room her new sanctuary. I say that because I never knew women had so many things.

Growing up with my sister, Penelope, she had things—makeup, hair stuff, and clothes, but neverthisextensive.

Since Navy’s room is on the same floor as mine, I get to witness what that woman lives in.

Portable clothing racks line a wall—she seems to have outgrown the walk-in closet. Shoes litter the hardwood floor, a different lipstick color is staked on every flat surface, and random spiral notebooks are tossed around the room.

I can smell the overwhelming scent of hairspray lingering in the air. It’s overpowering, but makes sense for the amount of product I’m sure Navy has to put in her hair to tame those wild red curls.

Not to mention the diffuser she keeps on regularly that emits eucalyptus, what I’ve come to learn is her signature scent.

I wonder if Navy realizes that she’s canceling the other out. She runs the diffuser to purify the air, but it’s useless because the chemicals overpower it. That’s a pointless thought I will choose to keep to myself, but again, her room.

I’d like to say I’ve had many opportunities to spend time with Navy, but I haven’t. I’ve been in the gym daily, especially with it being the offseason, and Navy has been working. I never realized how much reporters actually work postseason. It seems like every day I hear from either Gus or Mack that Navy has either an interview with Leggins, someone from human resources, or she’s working on the upcoming season content and potential player matchups.

I do miss seeing her in action.

There were so many times I caught players from the opposing team catching an eyeful of the goddess on my mind as she was interviewing the Strikers. I fucking hated it, but I was forced to stay silent.

I’m getting back to the house after a session with Dr. Banks, and my stomach immediately drops as I see that Navy’s red Mercedes is the only car parked in the driveway.

Great.

We’ve managed to miss each other for a month now, so I guess it was only a matter of time before we faced each other again.

I park my black pickup truck next to Navy’s before gathering my backpack and heading to the front door. I don’t know why the hell I feel timid entering my own house.

Actually, I do know why—it’s because of the untouchable beauty that waits on the other side. The one I can’t have and continue to make a fool of myself around.

The more I look at this house, the more I realize how much it lacks a woman’s touch. Not that I expect Navy to shower us with feminism, but the house definitely lacks the hominess that women bring.

That Navy brings.

At least, that’s what Ithink.I’ve been missing a mother for so long now that I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be nurtured by a woman.

The guys and I have mentioned hiring a designer to spruce the inside up a little or even a gardener to plant some plants to liven up the black mulch flying solo in the flower beds.

Those things can happen in time.

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