Page 23 of Single Glance

“Yeah, she’s doing great,” I said, stripping my voice of its usual tease. There was a lot about Cam that irked me, but his devotion to his daughter was unmatched. He loved Emilia more than anything else in the world. I’d been around enough to know his career and parenthood were a constant juggling act, and he often beat himself up trying to balance the two. But now that I saw them up close, it was even more clear: their pre-game ritual, how his face lit up when she entered the frame of the phone, his knowledge of every aspect of her life, asking for more and more details like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “She’s missing Tori a lot. We talked a little about it, and I promised her we’d try to call after school.”

“That’s a good idea,” Cam answered. “I’ll be back on Thursday, and then we should sit down and try to hash out a plan for next week.”

“Wow, that’s very adult of you. Willing to have another entire conversation with me? I’m flattered, sarge.”

“There’s a lot I’ll do for the sake of my kid,“ he chuckled. “Even deal with your stubborn ass.”

I barked out a laugh. “And we were getting along so well.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he said. I could picture him running his hand down his face, trying to hide his smirk. Cam cleared his throat. “Seriously, Hadley—thank you for being there for Emilia. The next few weeks aregoing to be hard without her mom, and I’m…” he swallowed. “I’m glad you’re there with her.”

My heart stuttered in my chest, committing this moment to memory. In the past, Cam treated my presence as a burden, as if he wanted me as far from his daughter as possible. Bad influence. I’d overheard him call me that once, and it almost killed me. So hearing differently now, his words sure and sincere, soothed a long-standing wound. “Th-thank you,” I spluttered. “You’ve got a great kid.”

“Damn right, I do,” Cam said before hanging up without so much as a goodbye. But even as the call cut out, I still stared straight ahead, my brain short-circuiting after that brief conversation. My heart still thudded in my chest, a constant reaction to Cam’s praise and attention. And the worst part? If this was how I reacted to him over the phone, what the hell would happen when he came home?

EIGHTEEN

“Fuck,” I groaned, leaning back into my chair. Every muscle ached after two brutal, back-to-back series. The first three games were easy wins. The other team deserved their bottom ranking in the national league. We’d swept through them with little effort, ending the series with three wins to their zero.

But the second set was against our west coast rivals. As two of the four new teams in the major leagues, both groups were determined to get the win. We’d gone into game three tied, but they’d taken us in the last game. Even with the loss, I was pretty proud. We left nothing on the field tonight, and my body was going to be sore for days.

At least the seat was pretty fucking comfortable.

When I played on the minor league team back home, I hated travel days. It always meant piling into a coach bus, listening to the guys snore and talk shit for hours on end. Don’t get me wrong—I loved the team aspect. Nothing bonded you like dealing with a broken bus bathroom during an eight-hour ride.

If only those guys saw me now.

I leaned back in my seat, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was on the teamplane. A fucking chartered plane, all to ourselves. It was one of the most surreal moments of my career.

There were a lot of similarities about playing in the major and minor leagues. The team aspect, the game itself. But the pressure weighed on my shoulders. With the bigger paycheck came higher expectations, for the entire team but even more for us new guys who’d just made the move up the ladder. While it happened often, no one wanted to get sent back down to the minors. Teams changed constantly, especially with the trade deadline in the middle of the summer. Every manager and owner wanted to secure the best line-up to get a shot at the playoffs. Have one off-game? You could come back from that. But if you let the pressure build and got into a slump, that was it—the end of the road for your major league career.

And shit, was that a heavy burden to carry.

So far, we’d gotten off to a decent start, but we had a ways to go if we wanted to make it into the playoffs. Even with our losses in California, we had more ticks in the win column than the loss one. Still, we could do better. We’d yet to face some of the more established teams, legacies that ran deep. It made my teeth clench, knowing we had so much fucking potential on our side. We’d make it all the way if we got on the same page.

I glanced to the back of the plane, watching as Jace pounded shots with the outfielders. He was a wildcard, and you never knew what energy he’d bring onto the field. The games when he acted like a teammate, we made magic on the field. But on other nights, when he had an axe to grind, it was like wading through sludge, sloppy moves anduncoordinated plays. Even with Drobrek on first and Damien on third, I needed Jace to stop the other team from scoring runs.

I looked over at Anders, huddled with Coach as they played back the last game footage. I watched what they saw, not remembering half the plays. Instincts took over when I was on the field. I played well, determined to go home with the win.

All because of one fucking text.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, staring at my background photo. Emilia smirked over her shoulder, her back covered in one of my old tee-ball jerseys, our last name displayed across her back. And then, there was Hadley’s message.

MENACE

Rooting for you back home. Knock ‘em dead, sarge.

I pushed the phone back into my pocket, forcing my mind away from the blonde who infiltrated every aspect of my life. I’d left the day after Victoria, hoping the space would help me clear my head. It was a complete failure. If anything, the distance between us made me want her even more. I couldn’t escape her. In my thoughts, on my phone, everywhere I went, my mind turned to Hadley.

“You okay over there, man?” Damien asked. He pulled out an earbud as he leaned across the aisle to check on me.

“Yeah,” I huffed, trying to push Hadley out of my mind. “Just thinking about the games this weekend. Made a couple of rookie mistakes last night, and I need to make sure they don’t happen again.”

Damien grinned while he leaned against the headrest. “You and me both, brother. But all we can do is focus on the next one, right? We always get our shit together at home.Try focusing on something other than the game for the night, man.”

“Fucking hope so,” I grumbled. Easy for him to say. But then again, he wasn’t fixated on his ex’s best friend. Baseball was the safe topic—the one thing in my control.

He turned over to me. “You coming out with us when we get back? Some of the guys are hitting up this new bar downtown.”

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