Page 51 of Moonshot

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asks.

“I’ll have what he’s having,” she answers playfully, pointing to my pale ale.

“Well, I’m having the check,” I interrupt.

“Oh, come on. Let’s bury the hatchet. I’m only in town for the night, visiting my friend Laurel. It’d be nice to put this behind us, move on with a clean slate.”

Is this girl for real?I attempt to calm my anger, which has probably been fanned by alcohol, and the realization I’m not going to be getting over my snow queen with a quick lay tonight. Getting up from my stool, I throw five twenty-dollar bills on the bar. “This should cover my tab, sir.” I direct to the bartender, who’s standing out of harm’s way, drying off high ball glasses. “Please take care of Tilly’s drink and keep the rest for yourself. Paula’s never needed me. Why start now?” I start to make a clean getaway to the door just as I hear her retort.

“I would’ve loved to see you fight over me in that library, Mick. Sucker-punch my ass. You had one working arm. He would’ve made you more of a laughing stock than you already were.”

Not looking back, I head for the hotel. Suddenly, a cold and empty bed doesn’t sound so bad.

* * *

It’s Saturday, and I’m trying to get my shit together before our game. I’ve had two cups of coffee and tried to eat a bagel, and I’m still not centered. I admit I haven’t slept well in days. I’d like to say it was because of the run-in with Paula, but if anything, that unpleasant interaction had made things clearer. Once we split, I realized it was the humiliation and anger over how the relationship ended that had left me reeling. I wasn’t pining for her.

I’d finally called on Central Orthopedics and was initially relieved when I discovered Ava wasn’t there. But this relief quickly morphed into a dull, lingering ache in my chest. As if someone had reached inside and stolen a piece of it. I miss her. She meant more to me in the few short months we’d grown close than Paula ever had.

Joanie had been sweet. Telling me how much she and Ava had missed me. I’m sure she was just being polite. I guess Ava and her boss have been able to keep their office romance on the down-low. Stealthy of them, given Joanie appears to be quite the busy body.

I pull up to the ball field and notice most of the boys have beaten me here. No sleep or not, these boys deserve better than this. This is a big game for them. The Devil Dogs are the team we’ve been training to beat. I need to get my head out of my ass.

Sliding out of the car, I pull my equipment from the trunk before heading to the field. I notice the boys are crowded around someone at the pitcher’s mound and wonder if my mother and little sister have been bribing them to win with sweet treats. As I get closer, I spot a platinum-haired stunner, and my mouth goes dry. She’s handing out water bottles and other swag from the Ortho clinic. My instant response is to go to her, my heart hammering in my chest at the sight of her. God, she looks beautiful. Then clarity hits me like a sledgehammer. I’ve had enough run-ins with the women who’ve done me wrong this week. I don’t have any patience for this today.

“What’re you doing here?” I practically growl at her.

“Hi, Mick. I talked to Dr. Morgan, and we’ve decided to sponsor your team.”

“No one asked you,” I grumble.

“Well, we thought it was a cause worth promoting. Good luck with your game, boys. I’ll be rooting for you!” She claps jubilantly as if we just got back from the Nationals game this morning, and everything between us is fine. The boys all jump excitedly, waving their T-shirts, water bottles, and misters.

“I think you should leave,” I spit, unable to hide my anger.

“We need to talk, Mick. Don’t make a scene in front of the boys,” she scolds. “I’ll talk to you after the game.” With that, she whirls away from me, walking swiftly toward an open folding chair.What the fuck? Is she staying for the game? Like I need that right now.I’ve barely recovered from Ava being here when my nemesis approaches.

“Hello, York.” The smug bastard reaches out his hand.

There’s no point avoiding it, I have to shake it if I’m going to set a good example for my kids. “Dillon.”

“Was nice of the beauty queen to get your boys looking like a real team. She belong to you?”

Suddenly, I feel my chest swell as steam builds in my ears. I feel like I could go off. Iwishshe belonged to me. But like hell if I’ll let him know otherwise. “What’s it to you, Dillon? Don’t you have your pick of women? Every time you come to a game, there’s some new tart waiting over in the wings. Or are you entertaining some of the team moms?”

“Hit a nerve, did I? Just trying to see if she’d be interested in spending time with a coach whose team knows one end of the bat from the other.”

If this guy goes anywhere near Ava, I’ll fucking kill him.

We’re interrupted as the baseball referee for the game approaches. Good timing. The visiting team is always first at-bat, so we dispense with any required business and head back to our respective dugouts.

“Coach, did you see all the cool stuff? We look like real players.”

“I did. Did you say thank you?”

“Yes!” they all chime in together. I’ve never seen these boys so excited.

“Okay, now that you look like real players, let’s show them we can win like real players.”

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