Page 11 of Rain Delay

Then it quickly faded when I realized I was still in fucking traffic. I groan, hitting my hand against the steering wheel. I really hated living in Milwaukee. While everywhere else had four seasons, Milwaukee had two: Construction and Renovation.

I didn’t say hi to the security guards as I kept my stride down the taped-off walkway on the service level of the stadium, heading towards the clubhouse.

I threw my shit into my locker before changing my outfit and made my way out to the field for practice.

The sun nearly blinded me as I ascended the stairs of the dugout, letting the dirt hit my cleats as I trotted over to home plate.

Liam’s dumb ass claps as I set my bats against the fence. “Oh, look who decided to finally show up today!”

I glare at him as I adjust my hat and step beside him, stepping behind the fence and taking my place at home plate.

It was time to get in my zone. I needed to focus now, and I wasn’t going to let my idiot friend distract me from being on my game.

When I was at the plate, nothing else mattered. I was in my own little bubble. It was me against the baseball coming straight for me. It was time to put those Spring Training hours into good use. This is where it really counts.

I had smashed every single ball thrown at me during practice. I was feeling fucking invincible. I stepped out from behind the fence and looked over as Liam hung his bat over his shoulder.

He whistled. “Well, god damn, Mitchell. You’re on one today. Who pissed you off?”

I grab a water bottle. “No one. It’s a new season, my friend.” I give him a pat on the shoulder. “Also trying to distract myself from this whole housemate situation.”

“Oh, fuck. I forgot that it happens soon. Tonight, right?” he asks, resting his bat against the dugout railing. “You ready?”

Is anyone ever prepared for something like this? I shrug. I couldn’t say for sure if I was ready or not. How does one get prepared for a situation like this? How does one prepare themselves to completely turn their life around for someone to live with them for the next eight months?

Tonight, I’d be coming home, and someone would be making themselves comfortable in the guest room of my home. Into a space I’d spent years making my own. Years of making sure no one could leave memories behind.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for it,” I look over at my friend. “I don’t know who it is. They refuse to tell me.”

“I still think it’s some creep, but that’s me.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t put it past them.” I roll my eyes.

“At least the strangers I’ve had in my house are ones I’ve willingly brought back.”

I rub a hand over my face. “Why are we friends again?”

Liam grins at me. “Because I’m charming.”

“Right. That’s it.” I laugh despite myself. “You are not helping this situation.”

“I think you’re only freaking out because the only committed relationship you’ve had in the last half-decade has been with baseball.”

My smile falls for half a second.

I point my sunglasses at him. “That’s exactly why people refuse to talk to you.”

He chuckles. “Am I wrong?”

I don’t answer. That alone gives him the answer he was searching for.

“You know, it might be a good thing,” Liam starts. “What if they’re a hot girl? That makes things so much more interesting.”

“It’s my social media manager, Liam. Not a hook up.”

“It’s a person. A hot one.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to hook up with my social media manager. Pretty sure there are strict rules about that.”