Page 90 of The Change Up
Lifting his hand in the air, Cody was waiting for me to give him a high-five. Hands smacking together, he gave me a small wink before brushing past me. And so the routine continued after every inning. He’d strike the third batter of the inning out, walk to wherever I was standing, wait for a high-five, and give me a wink before hopping down the steps that led into the dugout.
Now with only two innings to go, my anxiety is starting to rise. Cody’s on his way to pitching another no-hitter—his third of the season.
There’s a buzz in the dugout almost as if everyone is feeling the pressure to give Cody this win and to not cause any mistakes to jeopardize his no-hitter.
Making my way onto the field, I take advantage of the team throwing the ball around in between innings. The coaches have all been leaning against the railing in a relaxed manner. I was able to take a picture of their backs, but I knew that the picture would look really special if I was facing them. Glancing around at the guys on the field, I make sure that I’m not going to get hit with the ball before I’m quickly moving into position. Lining up the camera, I adjust the lens until I have the shot that I want. Hitting the button, I watch the shutter release before checking the picture on my screen. Happy with the shot, I glance up into the crowd.
Charleston’s field isn’t anywhere as big as ours, but it’s still a nice facility with tan-painted brick buildings and green plastic chairs spread throughout the stadium. As I’m skimming our crowd—smaller than normal—my eyes catch on semi-familiar hazel eyes.
I have no doubt in my mind that I’m staring at Cody’s father.
My breath stutters in my chest as I take in the man staring back at me. Not breaking eye contact, it’s like he’s sucking my soul from me. The sneer on his face is enough to make me shiver. Chills run down my spine, and I quickly stride back down into the dugout.
Not able to get the image of that man sneering at me out of my head, I make it a point to stay in the dugout and away from any camera, including the one that flashes images up to the screen in the outfield for the fans.
Thankfully, I don’t have long to wait. The team pulls out a win as Cody pitches a phenomenal game. Without stepping out of the dugout, I’m able to capture the celebratory huddle from the top of the dugout steps.
My heart is bursting at the seams for Cody. I’m so proud of him for earning this accomplishment. We still have a month, if not longer, until the season ends, and there’s a good chancehe’ll break the record for the most no-hitters thrown in a single season.
The guys all scramble into the dugout, heading straight for where the bat bags are kept. They’re ready to pack up and head back to the hotel, no doubt exhausted from the day. The once quiet dugout is now thumping with an exciting energy that drums through the air. It’s contagious, and the smile that breaks free across my face is unavoidable.
Cody’s eyes find mine through the crowd, and the wink he gives me makes my panties wet. He’s going to want to celebrate tonight, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to be tangled in the sheets with the man who stole my heart.
Leaning against the opposite wall out of the way of the guys gathering their things, I wait until everyone is ready to leave the dugout. Coach Weber likes for the team to arrive and exit together. He says it makes the team look more serious, and I agree. There’s nothing like a pack of athletes trudging through the stands with their metal cleats clanking against the concrete. They’re like a pack of wolves hunting down their prey with determined energy and stoic faces.
Weber gives everyone twenty to thirty minutes after an away game before they have to report to the bus. This way everyone has a chance to meet up with anyone they know who came to watch the game, mingle with fans, or just a chance to unwind after a game.
The team makes their way out of the dugout as I slide in with the coaches and other members of the staff. We walk across the dirt path that leads to the gated steps up to the main level of the stadium. Keeping my focus on the person in front of me, I don’t allow my eyes to stray. However, there’s the niggling feeling deep in my soul that feels like eyes are burrowing into my skin.
Don’t look up. Don’t look up.
Once we reach the main level, most of the guys split up. Cody is one of them. Our eyes meet in the briefest of moments, but his hardened face has me walking right past him. I don’t get too far before Ty sidles up beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He smells of sweat and grass stains from the diving catch he made late in the game behind third base. “Hey, Chloe girl.”
Looking up at Ty, I give him a small smile. “Good game out there.”
“Thanks! What’d you think about that diving catch in the eighth? I did that one for you.”
I roll my eyes because no, he did not do that for me. “Uh-huh. I was so impressed.”
“Impressed enough to leave Jacobs behind and take a ride on the Billings train?”
A laugh bursts from deep inside. Looking around ahead of us, I see Niko and Hudson waiting off to the side. I have a feeling these boys are distracting me from the mood Cody is in and the man who caused the mood.
“Oh my gosh, Ty,” I say through laughter, hitting his stomach with my hand that isn’t pressed against his side.
“Chloe?” a soft voice calls from behind us, interrupting our laughter.
The laughter slips away as Ty’s and my heads turn toward each other. Brows quirked as confusion mars our faces. Looking over my shoulder, I’m doused in cold water as the feeling of paralysis shocks me still.
Her honey-blonde hair. The same as mine.
Her petite frame. The same as mine.
Her slightly upturned and slender nose. The same as mine.
I’m standing in the presence of the woman I thought I’d never see again.
“M-mo-mom?” As the words leave my lips, Ty’s grip tightens as he pulls me in closer to him almost like a shield protecting me from a fire-breathing dragon. And she might as well be. Because the woman staring back at me, eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar, is definitely the villain in my story.
