“Or take a picture with?”
“Come on, you see it, don’t you? Some of them look like they’re straight out of high school. I’d feel like a pervert being with them.”
“I just asked if you wanted to take a picture. Clearly your mind went somewhere else.” He smirks with his hands in his pockets as he rocks back on his heels.
“No. I just, if they were older—”
“Quit while you’re ahead. The more you explain, the redder you get. And you already resemble a ripe tomato.”
“THERE’S NO WAY THATblindfold was real,” Teddy says, dragging his fry through a trough of ketchup. “It’s impossible to hit the ball like that when you can’t see it.”
“It is if you know where they’re going to pitch you,” Gemma argues. “It’s not like they play against real teams.”
“She has a point,” Tate chimes in.
Teddy shakes his head. “Nope, not buying it. I played baseball for years and couldn’t hit the ball like that with my eyes open. If these guys were that good, they’d be playing in the pros.” I don’t miss the uncomfortable look on Tate’s face or how his eyes drop. “Right Uncle Tate?”
He nods in agreement with his nephew before excusing himself to use the restroom. What’s wrong with him, and why am I along for the ride to witness it?
“I still can’t believe he turned them down,” Gemma says to her boyfriend before looking around to make sure the coast is clear.
The urge to ask is so strong, I can’t help myself. “Turned who down?”
“The Nurples.” Teddy drenches another fry before stuffing it in his mouth. “They want Uncle Tate to play with them.”
“Oh. How come he didn’t say anything?”
Teddy shrugs. “He’s not interested. I wish there was something like that for rugby. I’d kill to join that team.”
Once again, Tate seems to have gotten lost while leaving me to play babysitter. While Gemma hasn’t been openly hostile about me being here, she hasn’t said more than a word to me here and there. I’m getting the sense she feels like I overstayed my welcome.
Meanwhile, off in the distance, I spot Tate and a young waitress talking in the corner, both with smiles on their faces. I feel even more uncomfortable and out of place than I did a minute ago. Yet again, I ask myself why I’m here. This was an outing I could’ve done without, and I’m not interested in being anyone’s wingman. Especially Tate Grimm’s.
Chapter 10
Tate
All that talk about washed-up baseball players in the prime of their youth is a sharp reminder that the Nurples built their kingdom with nobodies. That’s what I’ve been reduced to: a nobody searching for relevance—a nobody with no one and nothing waiting for him at home. No wife. No children. Just a large house and a dwindling bank account.
I’ve wasted enough time in the bathroom. Time to rejoin my group and face reality. Even if it’s a reality I’ve been running away from. I head back, thankful Teddy didn’t tag along with me. I needed these few moments alone.
“Excuse me, sir,” a waitress at least half my age, if not more, waits at the door for me. “You wouldn’t be . . .” She moves her head to look at me from different angles. “Yes! It is you!”
For a heartbeat, excitement courses through my body. It’s been too long since a fan recognized me. The last one was a teenage boy who said it’d beenforever since I played, so he thought I’d died. That could’ve been funny, but it wasn’t meant as a joke. The little shit had been serious, and the smile on his face said he enjoyed being mean. Not a damn thing I could do about it either but plaster on a smile and walk away.
