Page 28 of Crew
“Morning, Singleton. Sleep okay last night?” Davenport’s question sounded casual, but I noticed something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read.
“Sure did,” I replied, taking a seat.
As always, I’d slipped out of Stratton’s room last night shortly after we’d had sex and gone back to mine without anyone noticing. And as soon as I’d crawled into bed, I’d passed out.
Neal grinned at me from a couple of seats away. “What was up with you leaving the bar with Stratton?”
I swallowed a bite of eggs. “Just wanted to make sure he was good after that bombshell last night. Had a buddy of mine go through something similar a while back. Figured I could pass along some advice.”
“So, you’re the designated life coach for the team now?” Latham chuckled and popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.
I rolled my eyes playfully. “You can give me whatever title you want. I’m just trying to be a good teammate.”
“Uh-huh.” Davenport smirked. “You sure you don’t have a little crush on ourcatcher?”
I shrugged. “He should be so lucky.”
That had the guys rolling.
“All right. Let’s stop giving him a hard time. Stratton probably did need someone to help him keep his shit together,” Payne said.
A few minutes later, the man we’d been talking about strolled in, his dark T-shirt clinging to the broad chest my hands had been all over the night before. It took everything in me not to stare at him.
The energy around the table changed from lighthearted teasing to concern for a guy many considered a friend.
“You doing okay this morning?” Payne asked as Stratton pulled out the empty chair next to me. “Last night’s news had to be a lot to take in.”
Stratton nodded. “Yeah. The whole situation is complicated, and who knows how it’s all going to play out. For now, my focus is on our team and making sure we continue winning games.”
“Well, we’ve got your back, no matter what,” Latham said.
Stratton gave him a small smile. “Appreciate that.”
The conversation turned to our upcoming game and how we all planned to spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon before we needed to head to the stadium.
I continued to eat, trying not to react when Stratton squeezed my knee under the table. It was a brief touch, but it showed he wouldn’t keep trying to put distance between us like I felt he had the night before. And for now, that little bit of reassurance was more than enough.
It wasthe top of the ninth, and we were beating the Padres 5-2. Everything was working tonight. We were playing clean defense, several teammates reached base, and Torres had been lights-out on the mound.
I’d already gotten two hits and a walk earlier in the game, and it was my turn at the plate again—this time with the bases loaded. Wehad the lead, but if the Padres rallied, they could make things interesting, so we couldn’t hold back.
Glancing toward our third base coach, he gave me the sign to swing away.
I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders to stay loose, and took a practice cut before settling into the batter’s box.
The first pitch came in high and tight, brushing me back a step. I didn’t think it was intentional because their reliever had been struggling with his command since the start of the inning.
The next pitch was a fastball right down the middle, and I didn’t hesitate to swing. The bat made solid contact with the ball, and I watched it sail through the air as I took off for first. The right fielder tracked it to the wall, but it soared several feet over his head.
A grand slam.
I slowed a bit, and when I rounded third, I knew I was sporting a huge grin. Stratton, along with Davenport and Latham, who had also been on base, were waiting for me at home. The second I crossed the plate, they pulled me in for congratulatory hugs.
“That was a hell of a hit.” Stratton smacked my ass, smiling almost as big as I was. “You’ve been on fire tonight.”
Back in the dugout, I received more high-fives and helmet slaps. Finally showing my teammates what I was capable of felt good.
During the next play, I walked to the large cooler and filled a paper cup with Gatorade. Stratton stood beside me, waiting to get his own. I started to move away, but he stepped closer.
