Page 35 of Coach Me
Great, a new boss I’ve irritated in some way.
Is it me? Is this something I need to add to my list to work on?
Swallowing down that thought, I look away from Dex to Miles. “Right, well, this seems like a great start to our tour. What’s next, Miles?”
Miles’s smile is wide, completely oblivious to the tension around us. “Let’s go see if Callie’s here.”
“That’s part of the tour now?” Miles nods his head, and I swear I see hearts in his eyes. “Yeah, Callie’s pretty fun, I suppose. Let’s go find her.”
Miles races to the door while my steps to the door feel heavy. All the guys’ eyes are on me, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve done something wrong here. Maybe finding Callie isn’t such a bad idea.
I’ve always watched the Blues play on TV, but it seems the team dynamic is different than I expected. I guess I should have taken into consideration that my brother is usually quite the loner, so his talk about the team is probably just coming from short, passing conversations.
But then again, Will knew Callie was pushing for me to have this job… He would have said something if there was drama that I wouldn’t handle well…
Miles waves for me to hurry up. “I think I hear her. Let’s go!”
Let’s figure out what I’ve gotten myself into.
Chapter 12
Dex
There’s nothing quite like game days. Whether it was my game to pitch or not, I’ve always loved them. I had hoped that when I took this job that feeling would have stayed…I think I hoped for a lot out of this job that was really a long-fucking-shot.
Tonight’s game has been especially hard for many reasons. We have a great line-up of pitchers on the Blues—and even if I’m no longer a part of that, we have a good group. There’s just one in particular who I can’t fucking stand.
Jordan Clark is our middle reliever and while he’s got some solid throws, he’s cocky and makes rash game-time decisions that a pitcher like Will, myself, or really any of the other pitchers on this team wouldn’t make.
Ignoring signals from our catchers. Being too focused on guys stealing bases to focus on a decent pitch. Mouthing off to umps on calls. No matter what I try, or what the bullpen coach or anyone else says to help rein Jordan in—he doesn’t want to listen.
He was our last GM’s favorite reliever to call in for some fucking reason. It was probably their matching holier-than-thou asshat personalities. God, I’m so fucking glad he’s gone. He started out strong, but if you weren’t one of his chosen, you were practically walking on eggshells. Olsson interfered more times than I can count. If he hadn’t, I know for damn sure the majority of these players in the dugout would have been traded.
With another clink of a bat, I watch as the ball soars into right field, where, thankfully, it’s caught for our third out of the inning. Jordan threw one strike. One.
“God, take him fucking out,” I grumble to Olsson. “I already told the guys in the bullpen to get literally anyone else warmed up.”
Olsson gives a low chuckle. “Alright, but keep trying with him a little longer. Something’s got to get through to him eventually.”
As the guys filter into the dugout, I holler at Jordan. “Clark, that’s all for today’s game.”
Jordan spits out a bitter laugh. “I usually pitch two innings.”
“Yeah, and most pitchers usually throw more than one strike, so maybe you should go back to the bullpen and work on that.”
His nostrils flare. I know I’ve struck a nerve, but hey, it’s not a false statement.
“Yeah, well, since I’m apparently done for this game I think I’ll head to the clubhouse.”
Figures. I turn back to the field, completely dismissing him because I know I can’t stop him.
When he stomps by, Olsson claps my shoulder. “Mr. Personality today, aren’t we?”
All I can manage back is a tight nod because, yeah, I know I’ve been a bit of an ass today. It has everything to do with the sunshiny blonde in the stands.
Without fail, with every change of inning, I do the other thing that has made this game insufferable: look over at Lucie.
Insufferable feels like the wrong word as I watch as she talks to Miles in the stands. My son's hands are making sharp throwing movements, and I can tell from here that he is critiquing the pitches he just saw.
