Game Changer, page 26
He nearly died last fall, and I’ll never forget how close we came to losing him. It wasn’t until the doctors concocted a pharmaceutical cocktail of several different drugs that they were able to counteract his body’s natural tendency to reject his new heart. Kyle will have to stay on these pills the rest of his life—there’s no getting around it—but they are what’s keeping him alive.
He already said that he feels like a new man and that he can breathe easier and workout harder than ever before. He received dozens of letters from kids enrolled in his Heart of the Order program in schools across the country. The encouragement he received from these children, who are fellow heart patients like him, really lifted his spirits. He knew that, if they could do it, he could do it too. So he conducted a full winter session of physical conditioning and strength training in a private rehab facility here in New York, determined to get his body back to where it was or even better than it was. I know he’ll get there. It’ll just take time.
The most important thing is that he has hope again, and with that mighty weapon in his arsenal, I know nothing will stop him from achieving his dreams.
"It’s good to be back," Kyle says smoothly into the mic, not missing a beat. "I’ll tell you it’s a hell of a lot better being able to play in a game than having to watch these knuckleheads on TV."
Everyone cracks up at that, Landry’s hearty laugh carrying above the rest.
"Did you like that, Landry?" Kyle teases him. "Well, I’ve got more where that came from. I’m just getting started."
"Bring it!" Landry shouts over as the rest of the guys bust him.
"I plan on it," Kyle snickers. "But getting back to a more serious note, I have a lot of people I need to thank. Even though, after listening to all that, I feel like I’m giving my own eulogy, but whatever. I’m not dead. I’m very much alive thanks to the wonderful doctors at New York-Presbyterian who kept me on this side of the dirt."
Only Kyle would say something like that, but I resist rolling my eyes. It’s his day, after all. Let him say what he wants.
"I want to thank everyone on the Kings for putting up with my little sister. She’s a handful, I know. But Mr. Heimlich had the guts to try something different, again showing what a true visionary he is to the sport, and Tony for having the wherewithal not just to make it happen but to shoot for the stars. Without these two guys, we would have never had our first female player, and I can’t tell you how proud I am that it’s my sister."
He sneaks a look back at me as the crowd once again gets to its feet, showing their support for the two of us.
"But I want to tell you the real reason why she’s not coming back so you all don’t hate me for bumping her off the roster." He gives me a wink, and I can feel the crowd leaning forward, wondering what he’s talking about.
He always has to one-up me—always.
"It’s not because she doesn’t want to play. It’s because she can’t." Kyle holds up his hand as a veritable frenzy takes hold. "Don’t worry. It’s not her heart. Luckily, that genetic defect only affects the male side of our family. It’s something much more life altering than that."
Brooks leans into me, saying, "Is he really gonna do this?"
"Uh huh," I whisper back. "There’s no stopping him when he has such a captive audience. I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do short of yanking him kicking and screaming away from the mic."
"That does sound temptin’," Brooks drawls, his breath warm against my ear.
"If you didn’t have to play in, like, five minutes, I’d say do it," I reply mischievously. "It’d serve him right."
"You see," Kyle continues, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand, "over the winter, while some of us were working hard, getting ready for the season, my little sister and my best friend had a little too much fun in the Caribbean."
"I’m gonna kill him," Brooks mumbles.
"You can’t. He just came back to the team," I groan.
"So?" he teases me.
"Have no fear. Casey’s going to ream him out for this the moment he steps off the field, guaranteed. He even forgot to thank her in his speech. He should be afraid. Very afraid." I can’t help but chuckle.
"The sun, the surf, the long, romantic nights…" Kyle spells it all out, painting a very vivid picture, causing Brooks to turn a shade of red I’ve never seen before. "I think Brooks’s mama summed it up best when she said, ‘If you’re gonna dance, you have to pay the piper.’"
That’s it. I can’t listen to this anymore. I stride to the microphone, shoving my imbecile brother out of the way. "In case you weren’t able to decipher that incoherent, rambling message, yes, everyone, I’m pregnant."
I didn’t want to tell anyone. I wanted to keep the news limited to the immediate family, at least until I started to show, but the cat’s out of the bag now. Brooks and I take our privacy very seriously, and ordinarily, I’d be pissed at Kyle for pulling a stunt like this, but when I look back at him, I see nothing but joy on his face as he playfully punches Brooks on the arm.
The rest of the team comes forward to congratulate us, and I can see Terry blowing a fuse. They were supposed to stay in alphabetical order, the way they were lined up, in order to receive their rings—that is, if we ever get to that part of the ceremony. The game was scheduled to start in ten minutes, but I don’t see that happening. Once again, the Roberts family has put a crimp in his plans. He’s not going to be too happy about all of this, and I need him to go easy on Kyle and Brooks. He still has the power to trade them away or make their lives difficult when it comes to future contract negotiations.
I sidle myself up to Terry and he extends his arms to give me the perfunctory hug he’s required to give with everyone watching. But I take the opportunity to say something to him I know he’ll like.
"I’m carrying baseball’s version of hitting the genetic lottery in my belly. Terry, you’re still young. If you manage to stick around for another twenty years, who knows what could happen? Just saying."
I draw away from him and watch that calculating grin I’ve come to know so well spread across his face.
"The child of Sasha Roberts and Brooks Davison, the niece or nephew of Kyle, Matt, and Nate Roberts? Now that would be interesting…very interesting," he replies, his face lighting up as he imagines the possibilities.
"And who knows maybe you’ll get me back before then," I reply, dangling that irresistible morsel in front of him.
"You could always DH or come off the bench. You don’t have to play second," he states, revealing that he’s already given this a lot of thought.
"I’m not going to like sitting at home while they have all the fun, I can tell you that right now," I respond honestly. "Let’s see how I do raising a child before we make any plans, but never say never."
"I knew you weren’t ready to give it up," he cajoles. "Once you get a taste, it’s never enough."
He’s right about that, but I’m certainly not going to tell him that.
"Everything all right over here?" Brooks comes up behind me, sliding his arm protectively around me.
"Couldn’t be better." Terry smiles over at him before hurrying over to Andy in an attempt to get things moving along.
"What was that all about?" Brooks stares down at me.
"Just keeping our options open." I turn in his arms to face him.
"So you’re still thinkin’ about coming back?" he asks, that glimmer of hope radiating in his eyes.
"I don’t know. Maybe someday. We’ll just have to wait and see where life takes us." I shrug as we join the line to receive our rings.
"I like the sound of that," he says, that deep, sexy tone running through his voice, sending shivers down my spine.
"I do have to keep you on your toes, you know. It’s my job." I wink at him saucily as he places me with the Rs while he goes to join the Ds.
"Two can play at that game," he says with a twinkle in his eye, tipping his cap at me and looking so hot doing it. I watch him strut up the line, enjoying the view I’m getting of him in his tight uniform—his broad shoulders, his strong arms, his cute butt.
Little do I know that he has an engagement ring hidden under the cushion of the box I’m about to receive, ready to surprise me after the game. Once again proving that I’m not just a champion in life, but also in love.
Hey, they don’t call me ‘The Heart of the Kings’ for nothing.
Reader Poll
Which member of the New York Kings are you dying to know more about? Whose story do you want me to tell next?
Scott
Pedro
Landry
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Jilly
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BONUS Chapter One
Brooks
Jamaica—Kyle and Casey’s wedding
"What time did you say your sister was supposed to get here?" I question a very distracted Kyle.
He’s about to marry Casey in two days and he’s a little strung out. We just arrived at the five-star resort in Jamaica, and he’s too busy sorting out the block of reservations to pay much attention to what I’m saying. At least I hope that’s the case. I never know with Kyle. He might think back on this later and wonder why I was pestering him about a girl I shouldn’t be interested in—but I am.
He glances at his watch, which cost more than my first car. Ah, the perks of being a major leaguer. Yet I can’t help but notice the worry lines creasing his brow.
"She should’ve been here by now. I didn’t get a text that her flight was delayed. Keep an eye out for her, would you? I have to straighten out these room assignments before Casey realizes they placed her parents right across the hall from each other. It was tough enough getting both of them to agree to come, and then her father had to go and bring his twenty-year-old girlfriend. They’re sure to get into it, and I don’t want Casey to have to deal with any of this shit before the wedding."
"You got it, bro," I reply, trying to hide my smile. That’s Kyle—ever the control freak.
"Do you even remember what my sister looks like?" Kyle inquires, concentrating on signing the screen of the credit card terminal the front desk clerk places before him.
Wow. So Kyle did forget about catching me up to speed on his little sister. Yeah, he was pretty wasted at his bachelor party. He probably doesn’t remember whipping out his phone and showing me picture after picture of her.
"Of course. I’ll just look for a prettier version of you," I tease him, and he grunts before the clerk starts giving him all the available options as to where he can put Casey’s parents.
I shove my hands in the pockets of my cargo shorts and shuffle away from the headache Kyle has to contend with. I wish him luck sorting that mess out. It sucks having to deal with family problems in the middle of paradise. They’re inescapable. I should know.
But for now, I sigh in contentment, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze just outside the door. This is nice—really nice. I’m soaking up the laid-back atmosphere until I observe the honeymooners milling around the lobby, in nothing but bathing suits and towels wrapped around their waists, as they head to the infinity pool overlooking the white-sand beach. They’re exhibiting that satisfied glow of having had a lot of sex during their stay, and suddenly, I feel like an outsider looking in. Their flip-flops squeak across the polished floor as they talk and laugh, lost in their own little world, fruity drinks in hand.
I should really get myself one of those. I need some liquid courage. I’m not the smoothest guy on the planet when it comes to making a first impression. All I need to do is clam up and turn red the minute Kyle’s sister walks through the door. We haven’t seen each other in four years. She probably doesn’t even remember me. She’s all grown up now. She’s definitely not a kid anymore. Kyle’s pics proved that.
I just don’t want her to think I’m a loser. The last time she saw me, Kyle and I were pretty much equals when we were on the same minor league team. But Kyle played all last season with the New York Kings, winning the World Series, while I was mired in Triple A, riding cramped buses and staying in cheap motels. Needless to say, my ego took a bit of a hit. She’s used to her brothers being super successful, and I need to measure up. The last thing I want is her pity.
I’m just about to get in line at the indoor tiki bar when the sound of laughter catches my ear. I happen to glance back and see a girl struggling with her luggage in the revolving door. It’s wedged and she’s stuck between the glass panels until the doorman scurries over to help her. Her back is turned, and I hold my breath, drawing closer to the scene as if some invisible force is guiding me forward. She bends over to tug at the offending strap on her bag, and I can’t resist taking in every inch of her toned legs and the way her denim cut-offs are hugging her curves.
I swallow, closing my mouth. I didn’t even realize was hanging open. She doesn’t even have to turn around. I know it’s her. I know it’s Sasha.
A tingling sensation runs through me as she grins sheepishly at the doorman who frees the strap, allowing her to proceed into the lobby. She doesn’t see me staring at her as she thanks him profusely, and I can tell she’s embarrassed for causing a scene.
She raises her eyes to take in her surroundings, her smile widening as she checks out all that the hotel has to offer. I stand stock-still, watching her gaze travel across the room until it lands on me.
In that moment, I know that I’m a goner.
The look we exchange is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s warm and inviting, yet highly charged. I feel like I’ve been hit with ten thousand volts of electricity, yet at the same time, it’s like I’m being seen, truly seen, for the first time. Her expression shifts from surprise to recognition to elation all in a matter of seconds. She seems happy to see me, and that’s a very good thing.
I move toward her like I’m lost in a trance. The only thing I see is her. Everything else just fades away. She’s even more beautiful in person. Kyle’s pictures sure didn’t do her justice. I’m tongue-tied as I approach, unsure of what to say.
She dips her head under the intensity of my gaze. Shit, I don’t want to come on too strong and scare her away. I never know how to act in these situations. Am I supposed to play it cool and act like seeing her again is no big deal? I don’t think I can. After seeing her up close, I know it’s just not possible. There’s no way I can deny the level of attraction pulsating between us, because if I’m being completely honest, I’m pretty sure she’s checking me out too.
"What, no Wonder Woman shoelaces today?" she chides, tilting her head to the side and slowly lifting her eyes to mine.
"Nah. I’m saving them for the wedding." I smile back at her, grateful for how easy she’s making this. I can actually talk to her without making a fool out of myself.
"Darn. I wish I didn’t have to wear heels during the ceremony. We could totally match." She lowers one of her bags to the floor, rubbing the red mark the weight of it left on her neck.
I have the uncontrollable urge to run my lips across it and make it better. I even take a step forward, the toes of my sneakers bumping hers. Her breath hitches as I lean in, getting caught up in the scent of strawberries that seems to surround her. All of a sudden, I feel dizzy by how much I want to soothe her chafed skin with my tongue. So I play it off, giving her a quick hug. I reluctantly let her go, bending my knees to pick up her bag, and swing it over my shoulder like that was my real intention in getting close to her.
I steady myself, trying not to notice how we’re both breathing more heavily now. After being in such close proximity to me, she seems as flustered as I am. Little does she know how much her reaction is boosting my confidence. I want to pump my fist in the air, psyched that she might be into me too.
"We are going to be partners, you know." My voice takes on a husky tone as my cheeks start to burn. "Casey’s maid of honor is on crutches. So I’ll be escorting you down the aisle."
"That is if you can keep up with me." She winks, the corner of her mouth turning up in such an adorable way.
"As long as I’m not weighed down by your luggage, I should be fine." I stagger backward like it’s an effort to stay on my feet. "What exactly do you have in here anyway? You certainly don’t travel light."
"Well, I flew here directly from an out-of-state softball clinic for Heart of the Order and that’s all my gear." She places her hands on her hips, her T-shirt getting snug in all the right places. "Don’t worry. I’m not asking you to haul around a ton of beauty products. I’m not the high-maintenance type."
"Thank God," I mutter, and she playfully punches me in the ribs.
"You’ve never seen me in a dress, have you?" she asks, and I shake my head, rendered momentarily speechless from picturing her in something strapless and revealing. "Then you’re in for a momentous occasion, a rare treat."
"I’m counting on it," I whisper a little too hungrily, and she draws back just a little.
Damn it. I don’t mean to scare her by coming on too strong. She probably has all of these preconceived notions in her head about me. She probably heard how rowdy Kyle’s bachelor party got. Not to mention, I’m replacing All-Star Chase Whitfield next season when I’ll be the starting shortstop for the New York Kings. She most likely thinks that I’ve let it go to my head and that I’m some kind of ladies’ man now. She couldn’t be further from the truth.
"Does Kyle know what room I’m in?" Sasha changes the subject, glancing over my shoulder at her brother. "He looks kind of frazzled over there."
I chuckle to relieve the sudden awkwardness that’s come over us. I could kick myself for screwing this up. Things were going so well. I turn around and see Kyle staring daggers at us. Maybe that’s why she got so weird all of a sudden. Maybe it wasn’t my fault.
