Page 58 of Knox
Walker got through the top half clean. A grounder to Ramirez, a pop fly in shallow left, then a strikeout on a slider that bit late. The guys came trotting back in, and Knox brushed past me on his way to the bat rack. “You see that scoop at first?”
“Your footwork was sloppy,” I teased.
He barked a laugh. “Yeah, right. You know I do it better than you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He pulled on his helmet and gave my side a little nudge. “Don’t worry. I’m about to get on base just for you.”
“You better.”
He grinned as he shook his head, then stepped into the on-deck circle. When he got up to bat, he hit a knock into right and did get on base. As he stood on first and removed his shin guard,he gave me a wink. I smiled back, because as long as one of us was playing well, I could be happy with that.
The game stayed close through the next five innings, but in the sixth, Cabrera drove in a run with an RBI double to get us on the board. Knox drew a walk in the seventh and made it to second on a shallow single, but that’s where he stayed when the inning ended. He kept glancing over at me between innings, and I caught myself thinking about how weird it would be to watch him play on TV instead of having a front row seat. I wouldn’t be the one waiting to bump fists with him, or the one catching his eye after a good at-bat. I’d be on the couch, seeing it all through a screen, not beside him in the dugout.
We held the lead into the ninth and closed it out with a double play. Guys piled out of the dugout, high-fives and cheers echoing all around. We had another win in the books.
In the clubhouse, the usual post-win energy buzzed through the room: music playing, guys laughing, and the smell of garlic mashed potatoes and steak wafting from the buffet. I grabbed a plate and headed for the dining room. About ten minutes later, players started to join me. When Knox walked into the room, he filled his plate and sat down next to me.
Diaz strolled by and clapped my boyfriend on the shoulder. “You sure you’re gonna be okay without your boyfriend on the trip?”
Knox didn’t even blink. “He’s the one who’s going to be lost without me.”
Ramirez passed by behind Diaz, shaking his head. “What’s Crew gonna do without his emotional support first baseman?”
Knox snorted and dug back into his plate. I rolled my eyes and shoved a forkful of steak in my mouth.
“Don’t worry,” I muttered. “I’ll survive somehow, asshole.”
The razzing died off after that, and everyone ate beforethe room slowly emptied and the guys started heading for the bus.
“You walking me out?” Knox asked.
“Of course.”
He grabbed his bag while I ditched my tray, then we slipped out the side door.
“Why does this feel like a goodbye and not just an eight-day road trip?” he asked.
I shrugged, but it hit me too. Eight days wasn’t that long, but we hadn’t been apart since he’d joined the Seawolves last season, except for a short weekend trip when he visited his family over the holidays.
Knox set his bag down on the pavement and turned to me. “I’ll call you tonight.”
“You better.”
He smiled, then leaned in and kissed me like he wasn’t ready to leave. Like, eight days apart might actually fuck with him. His hand lingered at my jaw, and even after he stepped back, I could still feel him there. It was going to be a long eight days.
“Tell Grady I’ll bring him some Ghirardelli chocolate from San Francisco.”
“He’ll love that.” I beamed.
Knox took a breath, then stepped back and grabbed his bag. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He gave me one last look, then turned and jogged toward the bus. I stayed there until the doors closed behind him before heading to my truck.
Driving out of the lot behind the bus, I headed over to Mallory’s to pick up Grady for a few nights. They had been at the game with Archer in their usual seats. Even though I wasn’t playing, they still came to cheer on Knox.
