Waste of Handsome (Carolina Waves #2) Page 5

  I’ve hidden my obsession with Jack for ten years so I’m not comfortable talking about it. But I trust Mrs. Button with my life, and I need to unload.

  “I don’t understand it. I know it’s ridiculous but I can’t stop feeling this way.”

  “Well, I can’t say I blame you. He is one hot dish.”

  “That’s what I don’t understand. I spend a lot of time around men too handsome for their own good. I’ve worked for the Waves for ten years now and most of the players can double as models. I’m immune. So what is it about this guy?”

  “Remember, I’ve met Jack. And I believe he’s more than a pretty face.”

  I snorted. “Jack Reagan is nothing more than a waste of handsome.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “You know about the seasonal girls. He’s shallow and self-absorbed and doesn’t get involved. I can’t be attracted to someone like him.”

  Pictures of him dancing with Lexi and talking to that boy at the fundraising event flashed through my head. I shook the guilt away. Sure, he’s good with kids, but women don’t seem to stand a chance.

  “And yet you are,” she pointed out.

  After a beat, I nodded. “But just because I am doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it. Hell, I’ve felt this way for ten years and this is the first time I’m even speaking about it.”

  “Ten years is a long time. It’s obviously not going away. Maybe you should do something about it.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No, I definitely shouldn’t. A fling with a player wouldn’t be good for my career, and God knows any relationship with Jack has a short shelf life.”

  “Don’t be too sure. If you give him a chance, he just might surprise you. The best ones always do.”

  Jack

  “You’re talking out your ass,” I told Dan and directed my attention back to the hockey game.

  “All I’m saying is that you two looked awfully cozy on that dance floor,” he said.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Sabrina walked into the family room carrying a plate of taco dip and a bowl of chips.

  “Thanks baby,” he said, patting her behind as she leaned forward to place her bounty on the coffee table. “Bri and Cal noticed it too.”

  “Noticed what?” she asked, her eyes shifting between the two of us.

  “That Jack and Hannah looked pretty cozy on the dance floor last week.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes settled on me and she nodded. “Yeah, I did notice that.”

  I leaned forward and grabbed a chip then dragged it through the dip before shoving it in my mouth. “This is delicious.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” she said.

  I sat back and gestured between them before resting my left hand on my thigh.

  “So what? You two get married and now you’re finding love everywhere?”

  “Just stating the obvious,” Dan said.

  “The obvious is that we were all out on the dance floor and the music slowed down. You danced with Lexi and Cal danced with Sabrina. It would have been pretty shitty of me to not ask Hannah to dance.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Sabrina, help me out here before I deck him.”

  She chuckled. “I’m sure what you’re saying is true, but you have to admit there were sparks flying between you two.”

  “Sparks?” I snorted. “I don’t think so.”

  “And you have to admit that she looked beautiful,” she said.

  I don’t want to admit any such thing, but it would be pretty shitty not to. Especially since it’s true.

  “Sure she did,” I admitted. “But I’ve known Hannah for ten years. Don’t you think if there were going to be sparks, they would have appeared before now?”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Sabrina shifted her head from side to side as she said the words. “Sometimes all it takes is a change in perception to make everything click into place.”

  I chuckled and grabbed another chip. “What is your wife talking about, Dan?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said.

  “This conversation is way too heavy to have while the Bruins are on. Maybe we can pick it up another time.”

  Like never.

  “You can count on it,” she said to me. Turning to Dan, she said, “I’m going to pick Lexi up from the birthday party, then we’re stopping at the store to pick up supplies for the surprise she’s making for you later. Should I just grab dinner on the way home?”

  “Sounds great,” Dan said, with a lovesick smile on his face.

  “Any preferences?” she asked.

  “Whatever you guys want is fine with me.”

  “Jack? Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “Thank you, but no. I still have to pack and I want to get a work out in tonight.”

  “Okay then. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.” She leaned down and gave Dan what I assume she meant to be a quick peck. He had other ideas and pulled her into his lap for a full-blown Frenchfest.

  I shoveled chips and dip into my mouth and glued my eyes to the TV. PDAs don’t make me uncomfortable, but their obvious domestic bliss does for some reason.

  Dan said, “Be careful.”

  I figured it was safe to look in their direction again.

  “Give Lex a kiss for me,” I said.

  “Will do.”

  Then she was gone, leaving Dan and me sitting in awkward silence. And to make matters worse, a commercial was on so I couldn’t even pretend to be engrossed in the game. So, I continued to shovel chips into my mouth.

  “I didn’t mean to piss you off bring up the Hannah thing.”

  “There is no Hannah thing.”

  I felt him watching me and looked in his direction. I wanted to punch the I-know-something-you-don’t look off his face, but I know I’ll have to answer to Sabrina if I do that. So instead, I tried logic.

  “I don’t know what you saw the other night, but regardless, you know me. You know how I am and how I live my life. Hannah just doesn’t fit into that no matter how amazing she looks in little black dress and fuck me heels.”

  “So you did notice.”

  “Of course I did. I’m not blind,” I said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I spend time with a certain type of woman. Hannah is not that type.”

  “You have to admit that she seemed different the other night. It wasn’t just the dress or the heels. She didn’t seem like the same Hannah we’ve been dealing with all these years. I think there’s more to her than what we’ve allowed ourselves to see for the past decade.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Dan. She’s not my type and even if she was, she works for the Waves. You don’t shit where you eat,” I said. “Besides, even if something was there and I pursued it, what happens when the season ends?”

  Chapter 6

  Jack

  The clock read 2:00 as I cracked open a Sam Adams. I shrugged. It’s 5:00 somewhere, right?

  I slid open the patio door, letting the fresh sea air into the condo. Stepping onto the balcony, I leaned against the railing and looked out at the ocean. After taking a long draw on my beer, I took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  This. This is just what I needed.

  Back in my minor league and rookie days, spring training was a time to hustle, to prove myself, to give it my all and then some. Now it’s time to relax before the season, enjoy the slower pace, and work on new skills or sharpen old ones. I still give it my all, but it’s different.

  For the past few years, I’ve looked forward to coming to St. Pete to decompress, and this year I need it more than ever. That damn book has been haunting me. I don’t know how celebrities deal with having their personal lives strewn across papers and social media all the time. What I have going on is nothing compared to that, but it’s still messing with my well-ordered life. And I just don’t understand why people give a shit about all that stuff.

  My phone beeped and I p
ulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the text.

  Want to shoot some hoops? Cal and Kaspryzk are in.

  Sounds good. I’ll be down in five.

  I chugged the rest of my beer, slipped into my gym shoes and was out the door.

  Since it’s a weekday afternoon, the gym in our complex is mostly deserted. I heard the guys before I entered the court.

  “Yo! Settle down in here.”

  Without warning, Dan tossed the ball my way and I caught it.

  “Come on, you know nothing gets past these hands,” I said.

  They all groaned.

  I turned and launched the ball in a perfect arc that swished through the net.

  “Show off,” John Kaspryzk said.

  We settled into a circle and worked through some basic stretches. None of us are rookies anymore and we’re always careful to limber up. We wouldn’t hear the end of it if one of us ended up on the DL because we didn’t stretch properly.

  I teamed up with Cal and Dan with John, and we settled into an easy two-on-two game. Back in our crazy youth, we’d go full balls to the wall, but not anymore.

  After showing off his ball handling skills as he took the ball down court, John cut a move toward the basket. Cal slid sideways and plucked the ball from him in mid-dribble, took it down court and executed a perfect layup. Dan answered with a corner shot, and back and forth it went until we needed a break.

  I ran to the machine and grabbed Gatorade for each of us and we stretched out on the bleachers.

  “Is it me, or does the off season keep getting shorter?” John asked.

  “It’s definitely not you,” Dan said.

  “I agree, but I’m okay with it this year,” Cal said. “I need something to keep my mind off the divorce.”

  “And I need a distraction from all the book shit going on,” I said.

  “There’s nothing you can do about that?” John asked.

  I shook my head, thinking about my conversation with my agent when the book first came out. “Craig tried talking Cindy and then her publisher out of releasing the book, but didn’t get anywhere.” I took a long drink then slowly screwed the cap back on the bottle. “He said I should have had her sign an NDA because then he’d have some kind of recourse. But, I didn’t, so here we are.”

  “Is this what the world is coming to? Anyone you get involved with needs to sign a piece of paper that states they won’t try to fuck you over?” John must be really upset because, like Dan, he rarely curses so he doesn’t get into the habit and slip around his kids.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Sad to say, even with a signed piece of paper, the lawyers find a way to get what they want,” Cal added. “So an NDA may not have changed things much.”

  He and his soon-to-be ex-wife had a basic prenuptial agreement that somehow isn’t protecting him like it should be. He’s been in negotiations for months with no end in sight it seems.

  “Mr. Hanover can’t be happy about the book,” John said.

  Since it was published during the off season, the gossip mill hasn’t done much churning yet, which is why John isn’t up to speed.

  “He’s not,” I said. “But the club still isn’t commenting on it and they don’t expect me to, either.”

  “I’m sure he’ll try to protect you every way he can. This organization is the best I’ve played for.”

  “Yeah, he has Hannah on it. I’m going to be doing some events to add good press to the negative stuff so it hopefully cancels out.” I gestured toward Dan and Cal with my empty bottle and said, “I dragged these two to a fundraiser a couple weeks ago.”

  “It was actually fun,” Dan said. “Lexi had a great time.”

  Cal agreed. “I thought it would be another thing to get through, but I had a lot of fun.”

  “Thankfully Hannah thought to bring swag,” Dan said.

  “Hannah was there?” John asked.

  I nodded. “I told Mr. Hanover that I’d feel better if she came along. So, she’s stuck going to all these things with me. At least I know she won’t book anything horrible.”

  “Wait a minute...Hannah is coming here?” John asked.

  “Yep.”

  “But she never comes to spring training. She barely leaves the stadium.”

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything. From what I understand, she’s arriving today.”

  Hannah

  Settling on the couch, I pulled my computer onto my lap and set my planner by my side. My whole calendar is set up electronically, complete with reminders that pop up on my computer, tablet, and phone, but there’s something about writing things down that helps commit them to memory. And between the usual Waves events and Jack’s individual appearances, there’s a lot to remember.

  I looked through all my notes, ensuring everything is in order. So far, so good. I’d just flipped the calendar to look ahead to the season when my phone rang. I grabbed it off the coffee table and saw my father smiling back at me. Declining the call, I set the phone back down and sank further into the couch.

  After a few seconds, my phone chirped alerting me that there’s a voicemail. I ignored it for a good fifteen minutes before reaching for my phone and listening.

  Hannah, ma girl, I hoped I’d a heard from ya by now. We need ta talk. I’m sorry I kept things from ya, but I knew you’d be upset. I’m leavin’ for the Keys tomorrow. I can fly ya down if yer lookin’ for a holiday or I’ll arrange ma schedule so I can come see ya. Call me. I love ya.

  The words on my computer screen blurred. I blinked several times to clear the tears from my eyes and bring them back into focus. I have no idea what to do about my father. He dropped a bomb on me at Christmas and I’m still feeling the aftershocks. Patience is not one of his virtues, but he’s going to have to wait this time because I’m not ready to talk to him yet...and I’m definitely not ready to see him.

  I’d almost talked to Mrs. Button about the whole situation just to get someone else’s perspective, but admitting my crush on Jack had been enough emotional purging that day.

  Besides, no matter what anyone else says or thinks, I have to decide how to handle things. My father is all I have and even if he wasn’t, he is my father. I know I’ll talk to him eventually, I just need to figure out what I’m going to say. And I’ll put that off as long as possible.

  Chapter 7

  Jack

  I watched as the ball left the pitcher’s hand heading toward the inner half of the plate. Pulling my elbows in, I shifted my hips and whipped the bat around, sending the ball flying into the right field corner. The next five pitches followed suit. Just when I was getting into a rhythm, a pitch curved toward the outside corner. I stepped forward and extended my arms, sending it sailing into the alley between right and center.

  Rocco Richmond, assistant hitting coach for the Waves and today’s batting practice pitcher, chuckled. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

  My spring training goal this year is to perfect my inside-out swing. It’s a skill Jeter made look easy, but it’s not. And it seems like more and more pitches are coming inside, probably because opposing teams noticed that I usually miss them. If I want to keep my average up, I need to up my game, too.

  Raising my hand, I let Rocco know I wanted five more pitches. He threw a mix and I managed to sprinkle them around the field. Waving, I left the batter’s box and walked toward the dugout to get a drink.

  “You’re looking good,” Wayne Brooks, the Waves’ hitting coach, said. “It seems like you’re seeing the ball well.”

  I nodded and chugged a cup of water. “I know Rocco was taking it easy, but I didn’t have a problem following the ball from his hand.”

  “That inside-out swing has come a long way since last year. Did you spend the whole off season at the cages?”

  He’s kidding, but I answered anyway. “Mostly just hit off the tee. It helped me sort out the mechanics.”

  “It shows,” he said. “And the more you practice, the easier it’ll be to ge
t the bat around on a ball so far in.”

  Wayne is the one who suggested I work on this and I’m happy he did. For the most part, I was missing the inside corner third strike that was coming at me more frequently. This will help turn them into hits. Which will be great, especially if there’s a runner on second.

  Obviously this is baseball, so nothing is guaranteed, but every little thing helps. If there’s something you can do to improve skills, why the hell wouldn’t you do it? I don’t understand guys who hit into the shift every single time. For years, even. Fix that shit. There are enough factors in this game that you can’t change...work on the ones you can.

  Second basemen Oskar Marquez had stepped up to the plate after me and was peppering hits through the outfield. Dan looked good out in centerfield as he chased a good majority of them down.

  “Glad to have him back,” Wayne said.

  “Yeah, and I know he’s glad to be back.”

  “Is Sabrina coming down?”

  I nodded. “She and Lexi are coming next weekend. Then they’ll be down the last week during spring break.”

  “I’ll have to thank her personally for getting him back on his feet.” Without missing a beat, he yelled, “Marquez, quit dropping your elbow.” Turning back to me he said, “I gotta go fix him.”

  I walked past first base and settled down on the grass to stretch. At this point in my career, I’m not looking to bulk up, I just want to maintain what I have and stay limber. That seems to be the secret to avoiding strains and sprains. That and a lot of luck.

  Cal walked up next to me and slowly reached down to touch his toes. He hung there for a few seconds before standing up in small increments.

  “Damn, my back is tight today,” he said, then plopped onto the ground next to me. “I fell asleep on the couch last night and am paying for it.”

  He stretched out on his stomach, put his arms out to the side, then lifted his left leg up and over his body until his foot touched his right hand.