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Deep breaths. Don’t be a little bitch. Just hold it in. You’re almost there.
If I can just make it to that small door up ahead, the likelihood of throwing up my lunch is slim.
It’s as if my mind gets there much quicker than my body physically can.
Nope. It’s happening whether I like it or not.
I fight the tumbling in my stomach to calm down as I reach the bathroom door just outside the locker room and launch myself at the first available toilet.
Mother of pearl. This is the side of pregnancy youthinkyou know what to expect, but you don’t until you experience it for yourself.
Being sick for no reason other than the fact that I’m growing a human is wild. A blessing, and one I’m grateful for, but wild.
Once I’ve emptied my stomach entirely, I wash my hands, rinse my mouth out with some water before opening the door, and flop down against the wall.
I barely have the energy to move. I’ll sit here for just a moment.
Staff pass me off and on, but they feel like a revolving blur.
One second, I’m working on active photos for Jethro and August, and the next, I’m lightheaded and the field is spinning.
Little did I know it was my body gearing up to hate me.
All I need is to rest here for a minute. Then, I’ll force myself up. I have to. I promised Jack I’d get the guys’ profile pics done at the game, so they have a player aesthetic to build on for their social media.
I don’t want to let him down. Or August and Jethro.
But yeah…I just need a minute. I also need this fog in my eyes to clear so I can tell which way is up and down.
“Tenley. Baby, look at me. I’m right here. You okay? Can you lift your head for me?” Large hands tilt my face as my body slumps into solid muscle.
I can’t open my eyes. It feels like weights are resting on my lids. I’m so exhausted, but I’d recognize that voice anywhere. “August?” I whisper. “I don’t feel so good.”
My body is weak. Likely because the last two days, I’ve hardly been able to keep any food down.
“I know, Mama. Our baby’s taking over, huh?” His hand strokes my forehead, wiping the stray hairs away and soothing me with his touch.
Our baby.I like it when he calls it that.
I nod, leaning into his comforting hand. “What…are you doing here? Your game,” I whisper, mustering the energy to sit up. “You should be playing.”
The moment the fog clears, I see him, quickly realizing his natural ability to settle me.
I forgot mywhy. The firm reason I’ve worked sohard to avoid August Graves. It’s solely because I know he’s a man I could love deeply, and that’s a scary thing when you’ve never seen said man take any woman seriously.
Why would I be any different?
Seeing him with that cleat chaser earlier and plenty before her, reminded me it’s best I put some distance between us.
The distance part is a little difficult right now, though.
Suddenly, a cold rag meets my forehead, and I moan at the sensation. God, that feels heavenly. The cold sweats evaporate, and the only thing turning my body into a spiral is August’s raspy voice in my ear. “Just switched innings. Tank said he saw you looking real sick. I had to check on you before I’m up to bat. I’ll deal with Coach later.”
Fucking Tank.Yesterday, he was my favorite custodian at Makers. Today, not so much.
The game speakers broadcasting throughout the vacant hallway snap me back to reality at the sound of Bodhi’s walk-up song playing. “I’ll be okay. You can go ahead,” I tell him, knowing he’s two away from at bat.
“I know you will, but I wanted to see for myself that you were okay. You worried me there for a second.”
