Dropped Third Strike (Portland Pioneers #1) (16 page)

“I have been racking my brain, trying to figure out why you’re so angry with me,” he said. “Our past is a little up and down, but I can assure you I never set out to hurt you. I would never do that. I guess I did though, and I’m sorry for that.”

“If you don’t know what you did, then there’s no reason for you to apologize.”

“Obviously there is. I hurt you, and I don’t want you to still feel hurt by me. I want to make things right with you.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“There has to be a way, Kate. Please.”

“Why are you so hung up on this? Why can’t you just go about your work and ignore me?”

“Trust me. I wish I knew the answer to that. All I know is I’ve been trying to ignore you for the past three weeks and it didn’t work.”

“It worked for me.”             

He sighed and shook his head. “If you say so.”

Feeling defeated, Reid got up and moved to another open seat. After three weeks of trying to devise a way to talk to her without arguing, he had decided to go with the honest approach. No jokes. No baiting. No sarcasm. Just honesty. But it didn’t work any better than his previous attempts. If anything, it might have made things worse. When she finally looked into his eyes, there was anger and annoyance, but he was pretty sure he saw a little hurt there too. He had cut her deep. Far deeper than he’d been aware. As far as he could recall, his only crime had been breaking up with her over the phone. It was definitely not his proudest moment, but at the time he believed it was the right decision for both of them. He vaguely remembered that call, blaming their break-up on distance. There should have been no reason for her to take it personally. So what if distance was only part of the picture? She didn’t need to know the rest of it. No one did.

That summer Reid spent with Katie during college had been amazing. One of his favorites to date. He’d been with a few girls before Katie and more since her, but the sex with her still stood out as the best he’d ever had. He should have known that would be the case though given the electricity he’d felt the first time he kissed her.

When he asked her to prom, he knew he liked her, but the invitation was supposed to be platonic. He enjoyed her company and thought they’d have a good time together. He definitely hadn’t planned to kiss her, but after their evening together, it felt right. Until it was over and he realized something had shifted between them, unlocking a whole new level of emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with. So he avoided her until he left town. He’d seen the confusion in her eyes when he passed her in the hall, and that made him feel guilty as hell, but the guilt wasn’t enough for him to confront all of the other things he’d felt.

The first night he slept with her was also unplanned, and it brought back all of those emotions from prom night – with even more intensity. They were still scary, but he couldn’t stay away from her this time. And it seemed she couldn’t get enough of him either. That summer was a blur of kisses, bare skin, and more orgasms than he could count – although now he wished he had. He was pretty sure he hadn’t outdone that number in such a short span of time since then.

When it was time to go back to school, he told her didn’t want to commit to a relationship with a label. But if he was being honest with himself, he knew he was already in one. He was completely devoted to Katie. He thought about her every morning and every night and plenty of times in between. He texted her as often as his phone plan would allow, and he looked forward to their regular calls. They never lacked for conversation. He was beyond smitten with her, and it was starting to take over his life. His studies started suffering but not nearly as much as his baseball game. When a teammate confronted him about his slow bat and bad fly ball routes, Reid instantly knew what he had to do. Katie was slated to come see him, so he figured he’d break up with her then. But then she arrived, and every time he looked at her, he only wanted to kiss her and take her to bed. Needless to say, they didn’t do a lot of talking that weekend. He thought maybe they’d be able to work through it. Katie still wasn’t pressuring him for any kind of label, so he decided maybe he could keep it casual and try and refocus on his game.

Then he came home from class on Monday and found his roommate dead. The autopsy said Tony had taken a lethal concoction of pills.

It hadn’t been an accident. But Reid was alone in that knowledge.

While he waited for emergency personnel to arrive, Reid found the note. Tony’s handwriting and grammar weren’t the best, but the message was clear. His high school girlfriend – a girl he’d planned on marrying after graduation – had cheated on him and was pregnant with the other man’s baby. Tony said he couldn’t live without her and he also couldn’t stay with her and raise that child, so he took the only route he saw available. Reid shook his head as he read the note. He had seen Tony and his girl just a few weeks earlier. He’d talked to Tony that morning before class. There had been no indication anything was wrong.

Before the paramedics entered the dorm room, Reid tucked the letter in his pocket and later destroyed it. He knew it was wrong of him to tamper with the scene, but he felt like he was doing the right thing for Tony’s family. Somehow, he decided it would be easier for his friend’s loved ones to accept his death if they believed it was accidental.

While he may have eased the suffering of his roommate’s family, Tony’s death had left a huge impact on Reid. He suddenly realized how much power a girl could have over a guy, and he didn’t want to be that guy. He couldn’t afford to be that guy.

In the week that followed, Reid put off calling Katie. He’d never had to break up with anyone. All of his relationships had been casual and fleeting. A few of the girls got upset when he drifted away, but it never really bothered him. Katie was not like those girls. She was special, and he had to handle this differently. When he finally called her Sunday, he knew he couldn’t delay it any longer. He broke up with her almost immediately after she answered the phone. There was just no point in dragging it out. He was still a little numb in his grief over Tony, so Reid didn’t hear any hurt in Katie’s voice. His memory told him she’d agreed and that the split was amicable.

Reid shut out a lot of people after that. He didn’t hang out with teammates outside of practice. He declined invitations to parties. He went home for Christmas break but spent most of his free time at the gym or in his room. His parents had never been of the touchy-feely nature, so they didn’t ask a lot of questions. They assumed Reid just needed a break to recharge after the fall semester. They knew Tony had died, but they didn’t know any other details. They also didn’t know Reid had been the one to find him.

When Reid returned to campus for the second semester, Reid tried to focus on his studies and baseball. Those two things would carry him beyond Durham, and he felt like they were the only two things within his power. They also required enough of his time and energy that he didn’t have much left for other activities.

Except drinking.

Reid had been pretty responsible about alcohol until that point, but after Tony’s death, he started drinking regularly. At first it was just a beer or two each night. But when that buzz didn’t work, he switched to hard liquor – usually the cheapest whisky he could find. He rarely got completely drunk. He drank just enough to block the memories of the afternoon he found Tony so he could sleep. Somehow, the drinking did little to affect Reid’s grades or game. He still didn’t know how he managed to graduate with honors and one of the highest batting averages in the conference.

Then he was drafted by the New York Mets. It was everything he’d ever wanted, and the smile on his face in the photos from graduation day and signing day was bright enough to mask all the sadness and hurt Reid had been working so hard to hide for months. He was ready for a new start. Getting out of Durham and that dorm room was the key to moving on.

Immediately after graduation, Reid headed to rookie league. He put in long days of workouts, drills, and games, and the coaches praised his work on a regular basis. He bonded with his teammates, relieved to have a fresh start. His new friends knew nothing about his college roommate, and he didn’t offer any information either. He wasn’t trying to forget Tony, but he figured not talking about him would help him erase the memories of the afternoon of his death.

It didn’t.

The images continued to haunt Reid in his sleep on a regular basis, unless he had a few drinks before going to bed. It helped quiet his thoughts and put him in a state of sleep that didn’t allow dreams.

Women also provided plenty of distraction for his brain. Even in the small town where he was playing baseball, there were enough options for sex. Occasionally, he would go home with someone he met at the local bar and let her exhaust his body to the point that his mind shut off too. But those nights were limited by design. He needed to avoid complications. Even though he never promised the women anything more than one night, some of them tried to get more out of him anyway. A few had deployed some interesting strategies – trying to skip birth control or claiming fake pregnancies – but Reid was smart enough to see through them, and he kept them all at arm’s length. It made him look like a jerk, but he couldn’t worry about that. He had a career to think about, and he wasn’t about to let a woman destroy it.

Alcohol was decidedly less complicated than women. Liquor continued to be his go-to through the minor leagues and into the majors. When times got rough or the memories of Tony returned, he hit the bottle. Obviously, there was also the occasional woman, and he’d gotten better at avoiding the clingy, manipulative type. He didn’t think he had a problem with either of his vices. He continued to play well on the field, and no woman got her hooks into him for very long. He figured he was coping with everything pretty well.

But then he got called up. Suddenly, Reid’s every move was put under the microscope of the major leagues, and the scrutiny threatened to chip away at the protective shield he’d spent years building.

His debut was magnificent. He was hitting well and fielding well, and he felt like all of his hard work was finally paying off. Driving to the ballpark each day gave him an unparalleled thrill, and his heart surged every time he took the field. Then, inexplicably, his performance started declining. He was doing the same things he’d always done, but the results were not there. He tried making adjustments in his swing, but nothing was working. Frustration was rising and his batting average was declining.

Reid’s hitting coach and teammates had tried to stay positive and kept telling him he’d start hitting if he’d just relax. That was a good idea in theory, but putting it into practice proved difficult. Reid could not shake the pressure he felt each time it was his turn to bat. And each time he struck out or hit into an easy out, Reid fumed all the way back to the dugout. Pretty soon, Reid’s teammates stopped talking to him during games. Their silence and avoidance was probably a result of his bursts of anger, but in Reid’s mind, it was a display of disappointment. And he couldn’t blame them. The Mets had bought into the promise of big talent, and he hadn’t delivered.

His release hadn’t been a big surprise to him, but it had been painful nonetheless. Even now, a few months later, it still stung. The Mets had given up on him, and no other team had shown any interest either. He’d fallen so far from where he thought he’d be, and he didn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

Reid let out a long breath and looked around the plane. Half the players were sleeping, and the rest were either playing poker or watching movies on portable devices. They all seemed relaxed and happy. And why shouldn’t they be? They were major league ballplayers. They were getting paid to play a game they loved. Reid envied them. He had been one of them only a year earlier. He wondered if he’d ever be one of them again or if he’d have to settle for the diluted joy he felt in his role as a hitting coach.

His gaze paused on Kate. Her eyes were glued to her laptop. Outside of dinner with her family, Reid hadn’t seen her in a non-working moment yet. Even when she was at the games or walking through the practice fields, she wore a very serious expression. She always appeared to be in business mode. He wondered if she ever took time to relax. He wondered if she even knew how anymore.

With a smile, he thought about how he wouldn’t mind reminding her. His memory flooded with visions of her lying beside him in bed, completely sated after an intense bout of lovemaking. Indeed, he knew how to help her relax. He knew how to kiss her in a way that made her forget about everything else. He knew the places that were the most sensitive to his touch and his lips. He could almost hear her cries and gasps of pleasure as he recalled his thorough exploration of her body.

His smile fell as he remembered her words and the bite of her tone when she spoke to him. She had no interest in a jaunt down memory lane or a reconnection. They were merely business acquaintances now. If she didn’t even care to be friends with him, there was no way she’d let him get her into bed again. But that wouldn’t stop him from thinking about it, and at this point, he wasn’t sure he could stop those thoughts if he tried.

Kate glanced up from her work to find Reid staring at her. She couldn’t read his expression, so she wasn’t sure what he was thinking. She decided she was better off not knowing. He was probably still trying to figure out how they could be friends again. She wished he’d give up on that. To be honest, they had never truly been friends. Their interaction began because of her crush on him, and it had played out to create even more complications than she would have imagined. Electric kisses, amazing sex, and all kinds of feelings she’d never really vocalized. To him or anyone else. It was one thing to have feelings, and it was another thing to share them. Vocalizing how she felt about him made it more real. And left her open to being hurt. Not that she hadn’t been hurt, but she always imagined it would have been a hundred times worse if Reid had known how much she truly cared for him. Or how much he had hurt her. And she never wanted him to know how much power he’d had over her. Their recent conversations had undone her plan a little, and she cursed herself for that. She wanted him to think she was indifferent to him. Instead, he was beginning to get an idea of how much he had hurt her. He still didn’t see the whole picture though, and Kate hoped returning to Portland and starting the regular season would distract him from his efforts and give her the space she needed to regroup and shut him out again.