Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1) (30 page)

A strong effort by Ethan Davenport and Branch Singleton fell short when the Orioles added two more runs and the Renegades were unable to come back.

With thirty-three wins and forty-two losses, it doesn’t look like the Renegades will make the post season unless…

They have to turn things around. The bats need to be stronger and the guys need to utilize the pitch count. Study the pitcher and know who is going to be strong or who has the ability to hit the long ball. Diamond needs to learn to play some small ball, get a base runner or two and let Davenport and Singleton bring them home. With Jasper Jacobsen batting fifth, he’s a power-hitter as well.

The bottom line here – we need base runners.

The pitching needs work. We can’t have five or six strong innings, only for the bullpen to come in and give it up. Pitching Coach, Cole Fisk (Yes, nephew of the great Carlton Fisk), needs to figure out what’s up with this crew and fix it, fast.

WE WANT TO WIN!!!!

In case everyone is wondering – the Curse is over! Stop using it as an excuse.

Only a few weeks left until the All-Star game. Renegades in the homerun competition: Davenport, Meyers and Singleton.

GOSSIP WIRE:

Sources say that Jasper Jacobson is asking for a trade! I’ll keep you updated when I find out more information.

Ethan Davenport and his college girlfriend are keeping things hot and heavy. The couple had full on PDA at Tequila Rain where the co-ed met him after the game. There’s no speculation with these two, let’s just hope they’re using protection.

Steve Bainbridge has been seen with a mysterious brunette. My best guess is that this is the mistress we’ve heard so much about. Sources are telling me from the look of things, he’s not leaving her anytime soon.

The BoRe Blogger

D
arkness starts to fall, and the rain isn’t letting up, continually pelting the top of my SUV. The sound is so soothing it lulled us to sleep. Daisy and I stay huddled together in the backseat. Her head is firmly planted in the crook of my neck and I’m staring out the window, wondering what kind of beast is going to come out once nightfall hits.

I am blown away by this shitty place. Not only does Bainbridge own this dump, he sent me here on a date thinking this would be romantic. If we weren’t locked in my car I’d fear for our lives. Come to think of it, I do fear for our lives. Something is almost certainly going to come out of the woods and eat us alive.

“Hey, babe, where’s your shirt?” I rub my hand up and down her arm, laughing because she now has goosebumps.

She brushes my hand way and snuggles deeper into my side. I’m going to be sore from sitting in this position, but it’s totally worth it. I lean my head back, close my eyes and wrap my arms around her a bit tighter. If she’s not ready to move, who am I to make her? When we’re together, she gets to live in a fantasy world where everything is okay and she’s not taking care of her grandfather. No one her age should have to do that, but he’s all she has. I admire her for her courage and for the love she has for him.

A deep howl causes me to open my eyes with a jolt. I sit up abruptly, scaring a sleeping Daisy.

“What was that?” she asks, groggily.

“Um… I’m not sure, but we should go.” I look down at her, clad in only her bra and panties. “Seriously, babe, where’s your shirt?”

Her head turns slowly, and she reaches her hand up, her finger pointing out the window.

“It’s outside?” I ask, confirming my fear.

She nods slowly. “Along with the food and wine.”

“Shit, and my picnic basket.” I’m proud of that basket, but I’ll buy another one. Her shirt, though, is another story. I turn slightly, enough to knock her off my lap and reach into the back of my SUV. I know I have spare shirts somewhere in the back and while it’ll be huge on her, it’s better than getting out at my house with her half naked. And it’s sure as hell better than getting out of this vehicle right now to go get the one she left outside.

“Please don’t think less of me, but I’m not going to run out there and get our stuff, so put this on.” I hand her one of my BoRe shirts and help her slip it on. As I suspected, it’s huge and looks like a dress on her. She partially stands and shimmies back into her shorts while I climb up front and turn the car on. I crank the heat, because even though it’s not cold, I’m chilled from thinking about what’s outside watching us.

“Shit,” Daisy says as she climbs up front, looking at her phone. “There’s no service here.” She moves her phone higher in the car, looking for a signal.

“What’s wrong?” I look behind me, trying to determine if I can back up to get out of here then remember how shitty the driveway is and know that I need to turn around. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. Oh I know why, I was too busy professing my love and getting busy in my backseat. This is a classic case of thinking with the wrong head.

“I… uh… I forgot to call the night nurse.”

I look at her questioningly, but she doesn’t meet my gaze. It seems odd that she wouldn’t arrange for a night nurse knowing that I have the day off and had planned for us to spend the day together. Is it because I didn’t ask about the night too? I can see the worry on her face, so there’s no point is making a big deal about it.

Once I get turned around and off the driveway, I’m driving faster than I should, but the thought of John being home alone without care worries me. It’s not like Daisy to forget and that worries me too. As soon as we hit the Interstate, I take her hand in mine. I need to touch her, especially when she’s this close.

“Your grandpa will be fine,” I tell her, trying to calm her nerves. She seems agitated, and that’s the last thing I want. I push the speed limit and weave in and out of traffic, watching my mirrors for the blue lights that could be riding my tail.

The moment we’re exiting, her leg starts to bounce. “We’re almost there, babe.”

“I know, thank you.”

She knows she doesn’t have to thank me; I’d do anything for her and her grandfather. Luck is on our side and we hit every green light possible and there’s very little traffic. Her seatbelt is off before I pull up along the street.

“Thanks for today,” she says as she places a peck on my cheek and is out the door before I know what’s happening. She runs through the rain, to the entrance and punches in her code before disappearing behind the door. She didn’t even look back and wave or anything. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll even see her later.

Driving the streets to my house, I’m trying to figure out how everything changed so fast. One minute we’re freaking out together about the noises outside and then she’s in full panic mode about her grandfather. What strikes me as odd is that she didn’t even call him. She could’ve called once we were on the road to make sure he’s okay and we wouldn’t have had to rush home. We could’ve even stopped to pick him up some dinner and watch a game together.

As soon as I pull up outside my house, I decide to call her. I need to make sure she’s okay, as well as her grandpa. Daisy’s phone rings… in my car. Her screen is glowing, the phone peeking out from under the seat. I hang up and reach down to pick it up.

Every sound around me stills.

All the blood rushes from my face.

My mouth goes dry.

My hand shakes as I hold her phone in my hand. It’s locked, but her notifications are lighting up her screen like the fourth of July.

I swallow hard and close my eyes, praying that when I open them again what I’m looking at won’t be what I think it is. Only it is. Tweet after tweet directed at @BoReRenBlog. As I try to read one, another one comes in and then another. These are tweets to her from other people. I may not be the smartest when it comes to Twitter, but I know what the notifications mean.

Everything I thought I knew about Daisy is a lie.

Everything that I hate about this blog, every complaint that I’ve made has all been for nothing because she’s the fucking blogger.

I slam my hand against my steering wheel repeatedly and bite the inside of my cheek hard. I will not cry over this dumb bitch. Pushing my shoulder against the car door, I step out into the rain. The weather is fucking perfect for my mood and I can only hope it continues to rain so I don’t have to leave my house tomorrow, because I plan to get fucking wasted tonight.

“Ethan,” she calls my name out over the rain. I turn slowly to see the girl who I professed my love to standing a few feet away, soaking wet. I look down at my hand, her phone still there and the notifications still coming in.

“I think you lost this.” I toss her phone at her, wanting to keep my distance.

“Let me explain.” She steps forward, her chest is heaving and she brushes her wet hair out of her face.

I shake my head. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can say that’s going to change things right now.”

“Yes there is,” she says, stepping closer. I put my hand out, letting her know I want her to stay back. The resolve on my temper is teetering and I can feel myself about to explode. I feel sorry for anything in my house because it’s about to be damaged. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I never thought we’d meet or even hit it off. The blog is a job from my sports journalism professor. You made it easy, at first, with the things you were doing. Once we started dating, I didn’t know what to do. I need the job, but I need you too.”

“You knew how I felt about the blog and you used me anyway. The first time we stopped talking you should’ve come clean. You should’ve fucking told me who the hell you are!” I growl in anger and frustration.

“I didn’t –”

“You didn’t what? Want to have to write about how you deceived me in your fucked up blog?” I tug at the ends of my hair to keep from hitting something. I’m trying not to yell because the last thing I want to do is draw attention from the neighbors. I’m actually thankful it’s raining right now. The rain drowns out our voices and is keeping people inside.

I feel bile rising when I look at her. She stands there, a shell of the girl I thought I knew. It breaks me to think she used me to gain knowledge of my teammates, my friends. I try to recall any time I gave her any information. I can’t, but I let her into the clubhouse.

“I don’t know what you want from me? Do you finally want your quote? Post this: The Boston Renegades third baseman told me to go to hell.”

I instantly regret the words, but refuse to take them back. I look at her and feel nothing but hatred. “Go back to your apartment and write about how many times I adjust my cup and how Bainbridge’s marriage is falling apart. Go write about how fucking well I treated you, only for you to lie to my face day in and day out.”

“You have no right!” she yells. “This is my job and I need it!”

“All you had to do was be honest with me. All you had to do was give me a chance with the truth, but you didn’t.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

I shake my head and start walking up my stairs. “Not my problem, Daisy. I don’t care what the fuck you do as long as you don’t do it around me.”

“I gave you everything,” she says, climbing the steps next to me. “You took everything away from me.” Under the porch light I can see her red eyes, letting me know she’s crying even though any tears she has are mixing with the rain.

I let her words sink in, allowing the rage to build. “Are you talking about your virginity?”