I move to the hallway and stand by the door to the office, just looking around to see what’s going on overall and notice player’s popping into the clubhouse for things. I text Chase and go for luck.
Text to Chase - Hey! I’m in Carter’s office and they won’t let me see Seno. Can you let me know if you find out anything, please? I know you probably don’t have your phone, but I’m going for it. They said he’s two rooms over. He was talking to me from there but now the door is closed and he hasn’t said anything in awhile.
Carter comes back with nothing. I like the guy, but he’s useless. I should’ve gone for it when he left me alone. Chase hasn’t responded to me and it’s been about fifteen minutes. I try him again.
Text to Chase - Do you remember my brownies? I also bake cookies and cake. I need to know my Rick is okay. What kind is your favorite?
I get an immediate response.
Text from Chase - I’ll check on him as soon as I can. Have to wait until next inning, only one out left. Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars.
I knew it. Easily controlled by baked goods.
I concentrate on the game and attempt to wait patiently. Why is this taking so long, if he’s fine? Why am I sitting around worrying about a guy? Since when do I wait around like this? This is crap! I’ll check on him myself! “Hey Carter, can I get some ice cream in one of those mini helmets or some popcorn or something?” Sending Carter on a mission and getting him out of the way. Carter nods and goes to fetch. As soon as he’s gone I stand up and walk in the hallway a bit, pretending to be stretching my legs and checking to see if there’s anybody around.
I run smack into Chase, “Sherry, what are you… never mind, follow my lead and be ready to peek in the door.” Chase gets Rick’s phone from his locker and walks through the clubhouse quickly checking in the different rooms, he gives a quick knock and opens the door to the treatment room Rick is in. He leaves the door open wide so I can sneak a peek in and gives Rick his phone, “Thought you might want to see what it looked like. It’s all over the internet.” Somehow communicating with Rick that it’s a ruse to let me see he’s okay. Rick looks at me and grins. Chase leaves the door open when he leaves the room, but it gets shut again. Chase gives me a quick thumbs up and trots back off to the dugout. At least I saw him and know he’s alive.
Text from Rick - Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.
Text to Rick - Where’s your injury?
Text from Rick - They’re checking my elbow, my hand, and my foot. Nothing is broken.
Text to Rick - I’m sure your foot is bruised and elbows hurt like a son of a bitch.
Text to Rick - What’s wrong with your hand?
Text from Rick - Cuts on my knuckles from hitting that asshole. Not sure if it’s from his teeth or just impact. May need a tetanus shot, he probably has rabies or something.
Text to Rick - I’m sorry. Are you in pain?
Text from Rick - Nothing worse than any other day catching. I should’ve controlled myself better. I don’t have much control when it comes to you. I don’t know how long this is going to take. You can take my car and go home, or whatever you want.
Text to Rick - You can’t get rid of me that easy. I’m staying here with you, my king.
Text to Rick - <3
A few minutes later the door opens and Rick comes walking out, his elbow supported by a sling and his hand has bandages over two of the knuckles. No limping or anything. He tosses me his keys left-handed, “You have to drive home. My hand is numb.” I felt myself go white and he must’ve seen it. “It’s okay. It’ll wear off, it’s from the local anesthetic they used and I’m not supposed to drive with the sling.”
“Whatever you want, baby.” I focus on the sling and how closely he’s holding his arm to his body.
“Don’t worry. It’s precautionary. My elbow is bruised and swollen, they want to make sure it’s not a sprained ligament. I have to wear this thing for support so I don’t make it worse.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s a bruise. I’m fine.”
“Let me check with Skip to see what the damage is and we can get out of here.” Rick turns to walk away, but Carter stops him.
“Skip says he doesn’t want to see your face for five days. Still waiting on the official suspension and he’ll let you know. Billy should be suspended for intentionally throwing at you, too. You need to get your elbow re-evaluated in a few days, call me first. So, get out of here.” Carter provides the necessary details.
Rick grabs my hand with his right hand, his numb hand, and makes a funny face at me. “I’m holding your hand, but I can’t feel it.” I move in close to him so he can put his arm around me instead and he smiles.
We walk out to his car, leaving the stadium before the game is over. I’ve never done that before. I never would’ve thought dating a professional baseball player would make me watch less baseball, leave games early, not pay attention to the score—I must be ill. Huh, lovesick? Chemically imbalanced? Lethal combination of pheromones and desire, sounds right.
I’m torn in many directions. He’s okay overall, but I’m concerned about his elbow and knuckles. I’m guilt stricken, because this altercation was my fault. He was defending me. Honestly, he probably wanted to punch the guy because—well, the fact he had my number was probably enough for Rick to want to take him out and
