Page 46 of Bad Ball Hitter
“Fuck off. Quit pretending like you know me. I wasn’t that bad.”
“Then what’s going on?”
He’s a goddamn physiological genius because he has me wanting to spill my guts when I never talk about this shit. I delve into the entire horrid tale. He winces when I come to the part about Miranda threatening to kick Lila out of the apartment.
“You’re in a tough spot, Gunner.”
“No shit,” I mutter.
“I mean, I’ve got your back, bro. That’s what teammates do.” Rappel’s assurance might be comforting in another situation, but right now, it feels like a weight atop the mountain that is already on my shoulders.
I drain the rest of my water and toss the empty bottle toward the trash can in the corner, missing by a mile. It clatters onto the wooden floor. A perfect metaphor for my personal life—trying to aim right and missing every time.
“I appreciate it, Rappel. But I don’t think there’s much you can do in this mess,” I say, running a hand over my face. The rugged stubble adds to my weariness.
Rappel shrugs. “You never know until you try.”
He plants his feet back on the floor and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Look, Gunner. Maybe it’s about time you decide what you actually want.”
I scoff at that. “And what if what I want isn’t possible?”
“That’s rarely the case,” he replies with a shrug. “Most times, we just convince ourselves it’s impossible because we’re scared … scared of change, scared of getting hurt.”
Silence fills the room as his words sink in. They ring like a bell inside my head—loud and clear.
“Yeah,” I finally whisper. “Maybe you’re right.”
Rappel claps me on the shoulder before standing up to leave. He looks over his shoulder as he opens the door.
“Just remember,” he says with a smirk. “You need to decide—sooner rather than later.”
He’s right. But what he doesn’t know is that I already have. I just need to get the timing down so I don’t hurt them more than I already have.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Drake
The city blurs past me as I rush to Miranda’s apartment. After agonizing all night long, I decided to end things with Miranda. The timing couldn’t be worse, considering I have a game later today.
I scratch the back of my head before pulling my baseball cap back down. This will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It doesn’t seem that long ago I was telling Miranda how committed I was to her, but it needs to be done.
My left hand tightens on the steering wheel, the inked designs on my forearm straining with tension. I’m nervous, regretful even, but it’s time. The weight of this decision feels like a crushing fastball to my chest, but still, it’s a pitch I have to take.
I just hope she doesn’t take any retribution out on Lila.
This brings me to my next dilemma—when to pursue my forever girl.
Mark my words. I will pursue her.
But there’s Jake as well to consider. That little guy means more to me than I expected, even though he isn’t mine. He’s part of Lila’s world—so he matters.
It’s not only about rekindling an old flame or making up for past mistakes; it’s about starting fresh and proving to her I’m not the same Drake Gunner who broke her heart once.
I flex my grip on the steering wheel at the thought of claiming Lila for myself again, this time for good. It sends a thrill coursing through my veins in a rush that rivals running bases after hitting a home run.
The traffic light turns red, and I brake, gazing at the Boston skyline in the distance. The city could change, but I want to build something real with Lila. I see a future with her—something stable, solid.
But first, Miranda…