Kissing on Third, page 8
part #6 of Belltown Six Pack Series
Her dad went silent for a moment. “Call me after you talk to him.”
She puffed out a breath. “I will.” She hung up and turned off her phone. If her dad called back, she didn’t want to deal with any more ranting. She watched the rest of the game. Things seemed to have settled down, probably helped by the fact that the Minnesota Ice won.
Finley spent the next hour doing increments of boxing in her kitchen. She decided that if Levi texted her after the game, she’d call him. But she hated to confront him about his record after such a tense game. Maybe to him it wasn’t a big deal.
By the time Finley had worn herself out, there was no text from Levi. Not that she could expect anything from him, but he’d texted her soon after his games on other nights. She scrolled through their texting strand. After reading it, she made a decision. She’d be honest and blunt and let him take it from there.
Congrats on the win, Mr. Florida. Hope you’re okay after that brawl. She took a deep breath and continued typing. So I mentioned to my dad that we were going out tomorrow night, and he sent me stuff about your past. If you can call me when you have a chance, that would be great.
Finley reread the text, then hit SEND. She waited for a couple of minutes; not that she expected her phone to ring, but maybe he’d text back that he’d call her soon?
Thirty minutes later, he still hadn’t replied. Finley got in the shower, then made a protein shake. Still nothing from Levi. She wasn’t sure if they were flying back tonight or in the morning. Maybe he was on a plane? Maybe his phone was off? Maybe she was reading too much into his intentions about her, and she’d stepped into his personal space.
She must have fallen asleep on one of her couches with her cell phone because she woke to it ringing. The screen was lit up with Levi’s name, and it took Finley a second to realize it was two in the morning.
“Hello?” she answered, her voice raspy.
“Are you home?” Levi asked.
“Um . . .” She sat up. “Yeah, of course.”
“Okay, I’m coming up.” The phone went dead.
Finley stared at the screen. Before she could comprehend that Levi was here, at her apartment, at two in the morning, a knock sounded at the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Levi’s decision-making had been a bit rash the past few days, and that was only confirmed when Finley answered the door. She’d obviously been asleep when he’d called. She was wearing a tank top and some sort of pajama shorts. She wore no makeup, which made her look younger and more vulnerable, and her hair was a tumble of black over her shoulders.
But seeing her again after four days also confirmed his growing interest in her, not to mention the strength of his attraction. Her minimal clothing wasn’t helping in that department.
“Sorry to wake you,” he said.
She blinked as if she was still trying to wake up. “Are you okay? That looks painful.” She stepped closer and touched his cheek, right below the bruising that had started to form around his eye.
The Knights pitcher had thrown him a good one, but Levi had returned the favor. It had been a frustrating game all the way around. Levi and Grizz had ended the night on good terms, but their argument after the game hadn’t been pleasant. Then Levi had joined his team in the locker room, where they were rushing to shower, pack up, and get on the plane.
When he’d seen Finley’s text, Levi knew exactly what was going on. And it wasn’t something to be discussed over the phone. He’d dated a woman for about four months at Belltown, then he had told her about his past, his criminal convictions, his juvie record. Their relationship had ended that same night. Since then, he’d never shared his past with anyone he’d dated, telling himself that if things got serious, then he would. Things had never gotten serious.
Yet, before much could really get started with Finley, she was already asking. Courtesy of her dad, and likely the internet, which painted a one-sided picture.
Finley had obviously showered before falling asleep, because her raspberry scent washed over Levi. And her touching his face was making his heart race and his thoughts jumble.
“I’m okay,” he said, grasping her wrist and moving her hand away. “I came to talk to you in person . . . about my past.”
Her eyes were clearer now, more awake, and she nodded. “Come in. I’ve got my own stash of tea bags now.”
“Finley, you don’t have to. Really.”
But she grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen.
“Sit.” She pointed at a chair.
Next thing he knew, she was moving about the kitchen, steeping a tea bag, then bringing it to him.
“Tilt your head back,” she said. “And close your eyes.”
Even with his eyes closed, he was aware of her every movement, her every touch as she positioned the tea bag below his eye, then laid a warm cloth on top of it. What he wanted to do was pull her onto his lap and bury his face in her neck. Breathe her in. Feel her arms about him. But he didn’t know if she’d want to see him anymore after he divulged his past. And he didn’t want to take advantage of her.
So he waited. After a few minutes, he removed the cloth and tea bag. “Thank you,” he said.
Finley was sitting across the table from him. “Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?”
“I’m good,” he said. “I got your text, and I didn’t want to explain over the phone.” He shifted in his chair. “Can we sit on one of the softer chairs in the living room so I can stretch out my leg?”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said. “You got nailed in the thigh. Can you walk okay?”
He held back a smile, wishing his heart felt lighter. “I can walk fine. Just sore.”
“Do you want a tea bag on your leg?”
“Um, no.” He definitely couldn’t handle the event of her touching his thigh.
Finley rose from the chair and moved into the living room, turning on a lamp as she went. She sat in one of the overstuffed chairs, and he took one of the couches.
“I’m sorry that I stressed you out,” Finley said. “I told my dad . . . maybe that was a mistake, but he went off on a major tangent.”
“I get it,” he said. “And don’t apologize. I’m not trying to hide anything. That stuff isn’t really a first-date conversation.”
Finley nodded and absently started to braid her hair. “Yeah, true.”
“And I didn’t realize how late it was.” He scanned the room. She’d added another piece of furniture since he was last here. “You know I was a foster kid growing up?”
“Yeah, you and your brother.”
“Rhett is my half-brother,” he said. “We have different dads, the same mom. When Rhett was about two, and I was about seven, my mom was put in jail for dealing drugs. She was part of a pretty major drug and prostitution ring.”
He didn’t want to feel Finley’s pity, but he felt it anyway.
“I’m sorry, Levi.”
He shrugged. It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge, and all the clichés. “I barely remember her. My brother and I were kept together for a couple of years, but then we started getting split up. I went a little crazy when that happened. Ran away multiple times, trying to find him. Finally the state put us back together contingent on my behavior.”
Finley was staring at him, and he could only guess what was going through her mind.
“Bottom line, my brother and I are opposites,” Levi continued, dumping it all out at once. “Rhett’s brainy, an introvert too, stayed in the awkward stage well past middle school, and well, he got bullied. So I was his protector. Got into lots of fights. Not only in school, but in whatever foster home we were in. Mostly with the siblings of the families. Once with a foster dad. Got sent to juvie for that.”
“For standing up for your brother?” she asked, her tone incredulous.
“For doing it the wrong way,” Levi said. “I used my fists instead of my words.” He adjusted his leg so that it wasn’t throbbing quite so much. He tried to hide his wince but failed.
Finley stood and moved to the couch. “Here, put your leg on my lap.” She sat at the other end and propped up his foot across her lap.
When the pinch of pain from the movement subsided, he said, “As a kid, I guess I could sort of justify things—troubled foster kid, you know. But as an adult I have no excuses, unless you count a temper.”
Finley didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him.
“A couple of years ago, I got arrested at a pub downtown. Not far from yours,” he said. “I was there with some teammates, and I didn’t like how they were talking to one of the waitresses. We got into an argument, and I was shoved first. I hit back. But I wouldn’t tell the police officer who instigated the fight. So I was charged with obstruction of justice.”
Finley moved her gaze to meet his. “What about your teammate?”
“Everyone was cited,” Levi said. “The first guy doesn’t even play baseball anymore. I haven’t gone to a pub or a bar in that area since. Until last week, when I went with Rabbit and his teammates.”
Finley set her hand on his ankle, and the warmth of her fingers was like a balm. “What about the brawl? Does that happen often?”
“More than I’d like,” he said. “I can’t stand pitchers who are crooked. Too many great players have been injured or worse.”
Her hand moved a couple of inches. “My dad wants me to call him after I talk to you. He has a friend who is a huge fan of the Minnesota Ice, who filled in my dad on a bunch of stuff. He also has a friend who’s a cop.”
Levi nodded. “No problem. I can talk to your dad too, if you want.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said. “Give him my number, or better yet, bring him to the game.”
Finley exhaled. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“The game, or bringing your dad?”
She didn’t say anything.
Levi moved his leg off her lap, and despite the pain, he put both feet on the ground. “The tickets will be there. I’d love you to come. Bring your dad if you want. It’s your decision, Finley.”
She wasn’t looking at him, but she nodded.
Levi pushed up from the couch and stood. His heart was literally hurting, and he didn’t think he could deal with any more time in Finley’s presence knowing that he’d let her down. “I’m really sorry you had to find out about me the hard way. And I’m sorry I woke you up. Maybe the Knights pitcher hit me harder than I thought.”
He moved to the door and opened it. Putting distance between himself and Finley was the best idea right now, because he was weak. Weak enough to beg her to not hold his record against him, to promise that he was a better man than a list of charges. But if he had to convince her, then that was broken. She’d have to decide herself. Both of them knew that a position on a professional sports team and a large paycheck didn’t make up for the more serious things in life.
Levi shut the door behind him quietly. He figured if he were to bet whether she’d be at the game, he’d lose badly. When a girl’s father was involved, it took things to the next level on hyper speed. And that’s what had just happened with Finley.
He walked down the stairs, then pushed through the exit door, leaving the apartment building. He climbed into the Bronco, which he’d parked at the curb. A good night’s sleep was what he needed. Get through Thursday night’s game, and then the following day, he’d be in Belltown for the parade. He’d get his head screwed on straight with the Six Pack. And seeing Rhett would be good too—Levi could determine for himself whether his brother was really doing okay.
He didn’t want to think too deeply about Finley, because if he let his mind dwell on her, he wouldn’t be able to stop the regrets. A lifetime of regrets. And none of it he could change.
Fourteen hours later, he was on the field, warming up with his team. His leg was still sore, but he wouldn’t let that be an issue in the game. He’d received dozens of texts from the Six Pack, checking in on him, first with concern. Then, as always, the concern changed to razzing and everyone making predictions on their various games tonight. Grizz had a bye for two days, but all the others were playing.
Levi tossed the ball to other infielders, every so often checking the seats that were for Finley and her dad. The stadium had started to fill, but the seats remained empty. Levi tried to shake the worry from his thoughts, but it was like a dead weight in his mind. He knew that if she didn’t come tonight, he’d probably never see her again.
It wasn’t like he could show up at the pub or knock on her apartment door. He’d told her everything. Now she was the one with the decision to make. If he were a father . . . he didn’t know how he’d react to his daughter dating a Levi Cox.
He blew out a breath as the coaches called the players to the dugout for a final word before they retook the field and the game began. The Iowa Devils were picked to win, but Levi had watched game film on them earlier that day. He’d found a few loopholes that he planned to take advantage of.
And . . . there it was. The pitcher he hoped he didn’t have to hit against—Ramie. The guy was up to bat first.
Levi glanced again at the two empty seats, then dragged his gaze away to focus on the batter. Ramie arched his back when he stepped up to the home plate—ridiculous. Then he spit in the dirt right next to the catcher. Levi rested his hands on his knees, watching every movement from Ramie.
“Come on, Scrubs,” Levi hollered at the Minnesota Ice pitcher. “Strike out The Ram.”
Scrubs had been having a good month, and Levi needed it to continue. Whether Finley showed up at the game or not, Levi didn’t want to lose to the bottom-feeder Devils.
Strike.
“Way to go, Scrubs,” Levi called out. “Throw ’im another one!”
The Ram looked over at Levi.
“You listening to me?” Levi mocked. “Keep your eye on the ball, boy.”
The Ram narrowed his eyes, then went through his prissy routine.
Strike two!
“Yeah!” Levi shouted. “Nice job, pitch!”
Scrubs tipped his hat at Levi.
“What are you waiting for, Ram?” Levi called. “Game’s already started.”
The Ram swung at the next pitch. It was a hardline drive right about four feet above Levi’s head. He took two steps back, then jumped. The ball smacked into his mitt with a solid thud.
“Out!” the ump yelled.
“Bring it, Scrubs!” Levi called. So far, so good. Then he glanced toward the two seats again, and this time he paused. Two teenagers sat in the seats. Either Finley had given the tickets away, or someone had moved into them, thinking they were empty.
Disappointment settled deep into Levi’s gut. He snapped his gaze back to the field as Scrubs threw a low pitch.
Ball one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The bottom of the fifth inning, and Levi was up to bat. Finley might not have gone to the game, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching it. Levi had already scored in two previous innings, but so had the Devils. Current score: Minnesota Ice 7, Devils 8. It was a high scoring game, and both the energy and tension were at a max.
A new pitcher was on the mound—Ramie, or The Ram, as the announcers referred to him. Finley could see that Levi was agitated, and she pretended it had nothing to do with her or their conversation in the middle of the night.
After talking to her dad this morning, she’d decided to take his advice. Let some time pass. A few days, a week or two, then see how she still felt. At least her dad had been sensitive to her feelings and hadn’t been too overbearing in demanding that she ditch Levi. Although it wasn’t too hard to read between the lines where her dad was concerned. The tone of his voice said everything his words didn’t.
Strike.
“Dang it, Levi,” Finley muttered. “Get a piece of that thing.” Her heart rate rose a couple of notches. Happened every time he stepped up to the home plate.
“There’s no love lost between Levi and Ramie,” the announcer said. “Last year, Ramie hit Scrubs on his helmet, knocking him out. Levi Cox went after Ramie, starting a brawl.”
Another brawl with a pitcher?
She bit her lip as Ramie pitched and Levi swung.
“Strike two!” the ump called.
“Come on,” Finley said. “Hit the ball.”
Ramie went into his pitcher’s windup and threw.
Levi swung again, and this time, it was a short grounder. Stopping between the home plate and the pitcher’s mound. Levi took off, and the crowd yelled as he raced against time.
“Go!” Finley yelled at the TV.
As if Levi had heard her, he crossed first base a half second before the ball.
“Cox on base,” the announcer said. “Now let’s see what Makin can do. He’s struggled in this game, but the Minnesota Ice currently have the momentum.”
The camera focused on the next batter.
Ramie threw a low pitch, and the catcher fumbled the ball before getting hold of it. Suddenly the camera panned to second base.
“Cox is going for it!” the announcer yelled. “Look at that dive, folks. And . . . he’s safe. That right there is how he got the nickname Steal.”
Finley’s heart had leapt into her throat, and she watched as Levi picked himself off the ground and brushed dirt from his jersey. The front of his entire uniform was covered in dirt, and Finley couldn’t help but think of his bruised face and thigh from yesterday’s game. Yet he’d ignored all that and made the play.
The camera returned to the batter, although the announcer was still sharing accolades about Levi Cox’s base stealing.
He deserved those accolades. He’d made an incredible play, a result of hard work and sheer determination. Finley had been a witness to his ball playing for several games now. Levi hadn’t asked to be born to a druggie mom. He hadn’t asked to be abandoned by his dad. Levi hadn’t chosen to live in foster care until he was the legal age of eighteen. Despite his mistakes, his heart had been in the right place all along. Focused on his brother and focused on using baseball to make something of himself.
