Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Before I can linger over any doubts, I leave, rushing down the hall, back into the party, straight back to the safety of life as I know it.
FOUR
GRANT
My first night in New York City was interesting to say the least. A crowded party. Polite conversation. A triple dog dare that led me down a rabbit hole…
The next morning, I’m lying in my bed, staring out at my view of the Manhattan skyline. It’s a lot to take in: the towering skyscrapers, the early morning fog, the sprawling concrete jungle stretching out as far as the eye can see. Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. Well technically, I was never in Kansas. I was in Arizona, then Kentucky, then Miami. Now here. And there is no Toto. There’s just me in a lonely, sprawling penthouse.
I’ve lived in this apartment for less than twenty-four hours and the place is a wreck. There are unopened boxes stacked up in the living room and kitchen and both guest bedrooms. Some of it is my stuff I had shipped from Miami; the rest was sent over by someone in the Pinstripes’ front office. They’re aware I’ve had a tight turnaround, what with signing to the team so close to the start of spring training. They want to be sure I settle in as quickly as possible considering opening day is tomorrow. Can’t have me distracted or off my game for any reason.
I peered into a few of the boxes last night when I got home from the party to find they’ve thought of everything: a set of unopened dinner plates, a knife block, towels, throw pillows, blankets, you name it. It’s like they assumed I was eking out an existence in Miami with plastic forks and threadbare hand towels. I’m a bachelor, but I’m not helpless.
Losing my mom when I was young forced me to get my shit together. I’ve never had someone to do my laundry or pick up after me. My dad worked a lot, and when he wasn’t working, he was carting me around to baseball games. I learned at the ripe age of six that if I left a dirty dish in the sink, it was going to damn well sit there until I got off my ass and cleaned it.
Today, my mission is to unpack this place and get everything set up. I like to keep a tidy house, and getting every damn moving box out of here is the second most important thing on my to-do list.
First? I’d like to figure out who the hell I kissed last night.
With a heavy groan, I sit up and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes until I feel like I’m ready to join the land of the living. Then I reach for my phone. I scroll down my recent calls list until I see Josh’s name.
My old friend answers just before the call’s about to switch over to voicemail.
“Are you kidding me?”
His words have no real heat behind them.
“Morning, bud.”
“Why? Why are you up so early?”
“Some of us have stuff to do today, Schultz.”
He curses like he’s in physical pain. “Don’t you have other friends you can bother?”
Sure, but Josh is one of my oldest friends. We grew up together, competing on the same tournament teams before we continued playing for the same SEC school, but it’s been years since we’ve lived in the same city, and we’ve never been on the same major league roster. He nearly pissed his pants when I told him I’d signed the contract with the Pinstripes.
“Who is it?” a woman asks on his end of the line, presumably his girlfriend, Sophia. I know he’s been dating someone serious for a while. I love her, man, he told me when he first mentioned her. I was supposed to meet her when she came to visit him during spring training, but the two of them never left his hotel room. Last night, too, Josh was excited for me to get to know her, but I didn’t get the chance. I was wrapped up in various conversations right up until the mystery brunette tapped me on the shoulder and planted her lips on mine.
Needless to say, my night got a bit derailed after that. I didn’t stay at the party once she left. I couldn’t. It had to be, what, a twenty-minute encounter? Thirty tops? And yet I felt like she was ripping my heart out when she walked out that door.
Absurd.
I’m homesick. Feeling weird. I don’t know, maybe there’s a full moon or some shit.
“It’s Grant,” Josh tells Sophia. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back in a second.”
I listen to shuffling on his end of the line, and I assume he’s taking the phone out of his bedroom so Sophia can go back to sleeping in peace.