Page 21 of The Change Up
I just stare at him confused as to why he is choosing to sit with me out of all the empty seats on the bus. Ty and I have been in the same room together many times. He frequents Sunday dinners at the house, and of course, we all party together, but I can count on one hand the times we’ve talked one-on-one.
“Uh, sure.”
“Thanks.” He plops down in the seat next to me, a huge grin stretched across his face. “Oh, this is for you.”
A paper to-go cup is put in front of me, and I smile at the gesture. “Thanks, but I’m really particular about my coffee.”
“It’s a honey lavender latte.”
My eyes open wide as I stare at him in complete shock. Honey lavender lattes are my favorite, and I have no idea how Ty would know that.
Taking the cup from his outstretched hand, I gesture it toward him. “Thanks.”
While Ty sits in the vacant seat next to me, I watch him get situated in his seat. The warmth seeps through the sides of the cup instantly warming my hand, and I smile. I’m such a coffee snob, and I only like certain flavors. The fact I have my favorite drink and a new book is making this day much better.
Ty pulls his phone from his front pocket while removing his AirPods from the opposite pocket. His fingers fly over the screen of his phone, and I try not to be a creep and read over his shoulder. People who do that to others who are sitting next to them are the worst. The two of us get situated as the bus starts moving.
I’m taking this as a sign. A sign that I’m going to be okay.
The melodic sound of her laughter filled the bus for the majority of our ride. And dumbass Billings is the cause of her happiness. I hate it. Anger has been coursing through my bloodstream, and my gaze has been shooting him daggers in the back of his head this entire ride.
My mind is supposed to be getting focused on the games ahead, but instead, it’s been focusing on the soft melody of her voice. Thank god she finally fell asleep half an hour ago, but not before she had to get up and walk down the aisle to the on-board bathroom. The smell of lilies, sandalwood, and wildflowers evaded my senses. The smell is contagious. It’s addicting. It brings me back to hot summer days, lounging under a shade tree next to the lake, and fresh gelato.
Fuck me.
“Bro.” Hudson nudges my shoulder, breaking me from my stare down with the back of Billings’s head. “You’re going to bore a hole in the back of his head.”
“Why is she here?” I grumble under my breath.
“Is this going to be a problem? Because if it’s going to be a problem, then I’m going to Weber to get her off this bus. We don’t need a distraction in the dugout this season.”
There’s a small part of me that wants him to go to Coach. To alleviate the problem. But I couldn’t do that to her. I’ve done enough to her.
The bus driver hits a pothole as he turns down a tight road causing everyone to grumble at the jerky motion. After a few more turns, he guides us through the overhang of the hotel we’ll be calling home for the next two nights. Once we’re parked, all the guys stand in our seats and stretch out our stiff muscles.
Today was a travel day which means no game, but we’ll still head to the field for a short practice. Coach will have us go through some light drills, stretching, batting practice, and I’ll do some throwing to make sure my arm is ready for the game.
I’m ready to hit the field. To feel the dirt under my cleats. To feel the way the laces graze against my calloused hands. To focus on nothing but my catcher’s glove in front of me. For nine innings, I can completely shut the world out and focus on pitch after pitch.
No thoughts of my dad.
No thoughts of my future.
No thoughts of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl who smells like wildflowers.
Reaching for my backpack, I sling it over my shoulder as I follow Hudson down the aisle. I will myself not to seek out Chloe, but apparently I’m weak when it comes to her. My eyes cast down, and that’s when I see her head resting on Billings’s shoulder, the two of them looking awfully comfortable together. My hands fist at my side as I grind down on my molars, and I swear I can hear one of them crack. I feel my eyes narrow into slits as I glare down at my roommate, teammate, and friend, and if looks could kill, there’d be a heap of dirt where Billings sat.
Get a fucking grip.
This isn’t me. I’m not the jealous type. Hell, I don’t even want a girlfriend. Baseball is my only love, but I can’t explain this feeling. Why am I feeling so possessive over her?
Stepping off the bus, I head straight for the hotel lobby to get my room assignment. The equipment team will make sure that all of our bags get distributed to the correct rooms. Our room assignments are always the same—selected based on alphabetical order by last name. Which means Hud and I are always placed together. We both have our quirks and pregame rituals that we both respect.
For this trip, we are staying at an above-average hotel. The lobby is bright and welcoming. There is a sea of people wearing powder blue and red—a mixture of the team and fans starting to trickle in.
That’s one thing I love about playing for Central Texas, we always run into fans no matter where we play.
Two dark wood reception counters contrast against the bright white ceiling and bright orange and black walls. Past the reception area is a common area with small leather couches and chairs. A few TVs are scattered throughout the space. Next to the seating area is the hotel restaurant with a coffee area, bar, and dining tables.
