Page 15 of Fumble Into the End Zone

On the next pitch, I swung harder connecting with the ball, and it traveled past the machine. I released a tear, along with emotions I’d bottled up for far too long.

“Let the ball have it, Mia,” he said, and I unloaded.

An hour later, I swallowed a piece of greasy cheese pizza and closed my eyes to savor the taste.

“See, I told you this place had good food and fun,” Addison said.

Dancing in my seat, he chuckled at my movement. Connecting the balls with the bat freed my anger and frustrations. In the morning, I knew my body would remind me of the workout. Fuck it, I might do this once a week. At this point, it was cheaper, and a faster release than therapy.

“This pizza goes on the list, but no one could beat...”

“Carl’s,” he interrupted.

We both agreed with our heads, Carl’s Pizza was a staple in Houston. You had a better chance of hitting the lottery than getting a pizza on the weekend.

“Mia, you were smacking those balls. Have you ever played softball?” he asked.

My brows hiked to the ceiling before I giggled. “Absolutely not. I spent my days in dance class, on set, and shopping,” I said.

“Who were you hitting out there?” he asked and I lowered my eyes.

“No judgment here,” he said.

I scanned the room to discover the couple next to us had deserted their table.

“Nathan,” I said under my breath and Addison squeezed my hand.

“From what I pieced together, he cheated and brought you home a baby,” he said.

I shook my head yes and lowered my eyes, but he lifted my chin. “Love is weird sometimes. I was hitting my ex-wife’s affair partner with each swing,” he said

“What happened?” I asked.

“High school sweetheart returned,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“It was three years ago but I want love again,” he said.

Silence lingered between us as we both were unsure of our next move.

“I don’t know. I’m trying to work on being open,” I said to keep the conversation flowing.

Addison smirked at my comment before biting down on his pizza. “You could start by being open with me,” he said.

Why?He was doing so good. My body and mind rejected his flirtatious statement. He lacked one crucial element: swag. I wanted a man who pulled me into his masculine energy, without the toxicity. Addison gave me best friend vibes. I’m sure he could provide, but I didn’t need financial assistance. Dr. Choice and I discovered my love language was acts of service. I needed my partner to need me, but not financially.

“Mia, do you think there could be a future between us? When I flirt, you cringe,” he said.

He noticed my lack of interest although I tried hard to hide it. I took in Addison’s toned body and beautiful brown eyes and weighed my options. No matter how hard I squinted, I couldn’t make myself produce the butterflies.

“Right now, I’m not in the place for a relationship but I would appreciate it if we hung out. Today you did something amazing for me. And I thank you for it,” I said.

He accepted my answer with a nod.

“You made it,” Stacie said, and I caught the attitude.

When she invited me to the game, I decided to go instead of watching it on TV. With my podcast and Madison inviting me back on the set, I needed new material. Standing in the hallway of the baseball suites, the space crawled with important people. I had a thought to wear Rex’s jersey, but dismissed the notion. If I wore a jersey, it would be my man’s, and I couldn’t picture myself dating an athlete. They were walking cheaters with families in every city they visited.

---