Rookie Mistake: A Sports Romance Novel (The Beasts of Baseball Book 1) (29 page)

I was on my feet as Cal dove to catch it, my hands covering my mouth, screaming “Get it!” through my fingers. The crowd went crazy when the ball landed safely in Calvin’s glove. But I wasn’t cheering. I’d seen his face, the flash of pain before he rolled onto his back.

And just lay there.

Oh no. No. No. No.

He didn’t move, and the crowd grew quiet as coaches and trainers rushed out onto the field, circling around him. Oh no. They were checking his left shoulder.

Holly was right behind me as I started running for the steps.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

e

Calvin

S
itting in the training room waiting for the team doctor to give me his assessment was one of the most agonizing times of my life. The pain had dulled to a steady throb, but that was because I was afraid to move my shoulder. Afraid that this could kill my season. Hell, kill my career.

At least I got Morris out.

Unfortunately, that thought didn’t help.

There was no winner or loser in this.

My entire life, I played knowing that one instant could rob me of the career I’d worked my ass off to attain. When I was in high school, people tried to convince me to go into the minors and skip college, not because I was ready for the minors back then, but because my risk of injury during those four college years was too great, and I’d never get the chance to go further, never get that taste of fame.

Shoulder. Elbow. Hell, a blister on my hand could keep me out for weeks. Tendinitis, a condition most people lived with just fine, could end everything. So could this ache in my shoulder. Whatever it was.

“Hey, baby.”

I looked up, relieved to hear Whitney’s sweet voice. The trainers motioned for her to enter, then walked out, giving us some privacy.

“Hey.”

Her eyes searched my face, her fingers curling in mine. “Any news?”

I shook my head. “The team doc is still reviewing the MRI results at the diagnostic center. He’ll be here shortly to… to…” I shook my head, unable to finish the sentence.

I didn’t have to. Whit knew. She kissed my cheek. “It will be okay, no matter what.”

Pulling her until she was standing between my legs, I lifted a hand, touching her soft cheek. “Do you want to go home?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Home? What do you mean?”

I blew out a breath. “Do you want to leave New York? Leave baseball. Start over somewhere fresh.”

She looked at me, her glorious green eyes growing misty, and raised a hand to push my hair back from my forehead. “Calvin, I—”

The roar of my screaming teammates filled the connecting locker room, and from the sound of them, we’d won. My eyes never left Whitney’s.

She tried again. “I’m—”

The training room door burst open, and guys poured in, checking on me. One by one, I told them I hadn’t heard back from the doc yet. One by one, they slapped my good shoulder, telling me to hang in there, and good luck. Shit like that. I thought poor Marty was going to cry.

Ace came last, and Whitney looked like she was tasting something sour. He stepped into the room. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, actually looking sincere. “You’re tough, for a rookie.”

I nodded, giving a little laugh.

He turned to walk out but stopped a couple paces from the door.

“I’m thinking of branching out, maybe opening up a bakery or something. Ace's Cake Batter. Kind of catchy, don’t you think?” His smirk was firmly in place.

Whitney’s mouth was hanging open. I knew mine had to be hanging open too.

“You don’t happen to know any sexy bakers who might want to run it for me, do you?” he asked, giving Whitney a wink, then looked down at her breasts because he was Ace Newman and that was the kind of shit he did.

As he sauntered out, Whitney looked at me. “Did he…? Is…?” She shook her head, still trying to decide if Ace was just pulling her leg.

“Sshhh.” We both looked up to find Ace standing in the doorway. He was holding a finger up to his lips. “Don’t fuck up my surprise, got it?”

We nodded dumbly, then looked back at each other as the door clicked shut.

I shook my head, unable to deal with any of that just now. “Forget about him,” I said, turning her toward me again. “What about leaving baseball? What do you think?”

Her lower lip trembled, and she pulled it into her mouth, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “Cal, I—”

The door opened, and I groaned, looking up to see the team doctor. He was followed closely by Rhett and Coach Griffin. I glanced back at Whitney, who was wiping her eyes before turning to face them. The atmosphere of the room had become oppressive.

The doctor nodded to Whitney and held out his hand. “I’m Dr. Walters. Sorry to be meeting you under such tense circumstances.” Whitney shook his hand, then placed hers right back into mine, linking our fingers together.

“Well,” I began nervously, “what’s the verdict, doc?”

He didn’t smile, which made my balls shrink in alarm. “The good news is that it’s a severe strain and not your rotator cuff. You won’t require surgery.”

Whitney sagged beside me in relief.

“What’s the bad news?” I asked him, tightening my jaw to take the blow. I could tell by the look in his eye that I wasn’t going to like his answer.

“Your season’s over, Calvin, but not your career. Six months of rehab then we’ll reevaluate, but I’m optimist that you’ll be back for season two.”

It was like he punched me in the gut. I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I wasn’t really sure if my heart was keeping a good rhythm. I wasn’t sure if I was going to pass out.

Rhett spoke up, “That’s a relief. Good to know we’ll get you back.”

I smiled at him, blinking several times to clear my vision. “Thanks.” I didn’t promise him I’d work hard in rehab or that I’d be better than new when I came back. I didn’t know myself. I might be a high school physical education teacher by this time next year, coaching t-ball on the side.

There was more talk about therapy, things I only half listened to as a million what-ifs floated through my mind. Finally, the door closed behind the men, and it was only me and my girl again.

She turned back to me, lifting her hands to cup my face, her lips pressing against mine for the sweetest kiss I’d ever received.

“Okay,” she said on a long breath, “what’s the worst case scenario here?”

I pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, then stroked her soft cheek again, swallowing hard. “Losing you.”

She smiled, her eyes growing wet. She blinked back the tears, looking up to keep them at bay. “You’re not losing me regardless of the scenario, so let’s focus on career stuff. What are the options?”

“Well, since this isn’t a career-ender, I could be on the disabled list while I rehab, then come back next year like doc said.”

“Or…?”

I kissed her forehead. “Or we go home, give all this up, and I become a high school coach or some shit.” I kissed her forehead again, then the tip of her nose. “Marry my girl, have a few rug rats, and live happily ever after.”

She snuggled closer, her face pressed into my neck. “Would you be happy with that?”

“Sweetheart, wherever you are, I’ll be happy, and I know we’ll make it work.”

She pulled back, looking me in the eye again. “You’d really give all this up?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“What about your contract?” she asked, chewing her bottom lip.

That would be a problem, a big one.

“I’ll deal with it,” I told her with more confidence than I felt. I’d get sued and lose everything. Except Whitney. I wouldn’t lose her, and that was good enough.

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to mine again, harder this time. I wrapped my good hand in her hair to deepen the kiss. She made that adorable little sigh that assured me she was happy. I’m pretty sure I made a similar one.

She pulled back, just an inch, still so close that her breath warmed the space between us. “Do you know what it means to me for you to be willing to give all this up?” I just smiled and continued to stroke her hair. “I love the idea of going home, of getting regular jobs and living a normal life together.”

My heart squeezed. Damn. I hated to give it up, but normal seemed pretty good too.

“But…” she went on, poking me in the chest with a fingernail, “if you quit, I’ll never forgive you and will personally kick your ass all the way to Indiana before kicking it all the way back here and forcing you to play.”

I blinked, and she laughed, a beautiful, musical sound.

“I love you, Calvin. And we’ve had a tough few months, but neither of us are quitters. Got it?”

I kissed her nose. “Yes, ma’am.”

She backed up a step and held out a hand. “Alright then, let’s get you out of that uniform. I’m starving.”

Smiling like a crazy man, I followed her out of the door to the locker room. “Better close your…” She screamed and whirled around, her hands clamped over her face. “Eyes,” I finished with a laugh, looking around.

Dicks and ass. Yep, my girl just saw them all.

She’ll probably never be the same.

Whitney

My cheeks were still burning by the time we left the locker room. At least now I could understand why Holly was so enthralled with Ace. Holy dick! He could use that thing for a bat.

Calvin was in a sling, his right arm slung over my shoulder as we headed to the field to deal with the media circus and listen to Rhett give the formal announcement that Calvin was out for the season. Maybe the tabloids would back off for a while. A camera flashed in my face. Maybe not.

When we opened the door to the parking lot, I was glad it was still daylight. I liked afternoon games much better than night ones. Calvin tossed me the keys to the Escalade, and I nervously got behind the wheel. I’d driven his Porsche in Long Island traffic, but not this big, oversized thing. I guessed I’d need to get used to it sometime. This was home now, and I needed to get used to everything that meant.

“Turn right out of the stadium,” Calvin told me and I glanced at him.

“Why?”

He grinned. “Calvin says just do it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “
Calvin says,
huh? Since you’re in a sling, I’ll play.”

Following his commands, we ended up driving about twenty minutes out of the city, to an area where there was slightly more grass than concrete.

“Where are we going?” I asked for the fifth time, but he only hushed me again.

“Calvin says turn left in three… two… one.”

I stopped the SUV. “Uh, that’s a driveway.”

“Yes, I know.”

I did what he said, driving through an open gate. My heart thumped hard, then began racing, my fingers trembling on the steering wheel. In front of me was a stunning, wood shingled colonial featuring a deep wrap around porch, sitting on a large lot that seems completely out of place in this city.

“It’s… it’s…” I covered my face and began to cry.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Exactly what I’d always wanted.

The words were stuck in my throat.

“I sent the realtor a picture of the old Parker place and asked her to see if there was anything close to it within a half hour of the stadium.”

I looked at him, then at the house again, then back at him. “Is it ours?” I finally managed.

His smile could have lit up the entire world at that moment. “It can be, if you want. It’s your decision.”

Pressing the gas, I drove closer, needing to see it better. No, not really. I already knew it was everything I’d always wanted and never thought I’d have.

The old Parker place was my dream house. It was a colonial, similar to this one with dark wood shingles and a wrap around porch. I used to talk to Calvin about the house, about how I’d decorate it, and which room would be the nursery some day. I wanted four kids. Two boys and two girls. Twins would be perfect. So I wanted a big yard where we could celebrate birthdays and put up one of those large bouncy houses. There would be pony rides too.

“There’re five bedrooms and four and a half baths,” Calvin said, talking about square footage and acreage. “Want to go inside?”

My head whipped in his direction. “Can we?”

“Yep. The realtor should have it open for us. I planned this yesterday before…” he looked down at his sling. “And since it looks like we’re going to be city folk for a while longer, having our own little farmhouse in the middle of it seems like a good compromise.”

I nodded like a crazy person, opening the door to step out onto the driveway. I walked around the car and straight into Calvin’s arms — arm. “I love it. I don’t even need to go inside to know it’s where we belong.”

“Let’s go inside anyway.”

I looked at his shoulder. “Are you sure you feel like it? I mean, you just got hurt and—”

He kissed me hard, then grabbed my hand.
I’ll never tell him this, but I’m kinda liking him taking charge like this.

An older lady with her hair pulled back in a bun met us at the top of the steps. She smiled and waved us inside, leaving us to tour the house ourselves, which I appreciated very much. “I’ll just enjoy one of these rocking chairs while I wait.”

The inside took my breath. Wide planked wood floors in dark expresso caught my eye immediately. They were mirrored by the dark planks of the ceiling. “Oh my.” Light gray walls with white trim softened the effect, as did the large windows letting in the gorgeous early evening light.

A sweeping staircase rose to the bedrooms above, and I could imagine our children sliding down the banister. I stepped farther inside the empty home and could envision where all the furniture would go.

The kitchen was a chef’s delight, and I’d have to take lessons to do it justice. A formal dining room would seat a table of at least twelve, while a cozy breakfast nook would be perfect for just us.

Glancing out the windows, I gasped at the pool, then the view of the Sound beyond. I stepped outside and walked to the prettiest gazebo I’d ever seen, rose bushes climbing the walls. A hammock with what looked to be a dozen colorful pillows highlighted the space. I turned back to look at Calvin… then down. Oh my God. He was down on one knee.