Stealing Home

Chapter Seven

OLIVIA

After a long stretch of away games we were finally back in San Francisco. I had worked hard and my back was killing me! I made a mental note to call a massage therapist when I was off work, hopefully ill feel like im in my 20's again and not a 60 year old.

Making my way down the faculty hallway, I was already counting down the minutes till i could get to my bed. I walked into my office and stopped short when I saw an arrangement of flowers on my desk. I don't know who would send me these, maybe they were delivered to the wrong office! Being that I haven't been in a relationship or even dated anyone in at least a year. Or was it longer? I can't remember anymore. I look at the card and hear someone knocking on the door behind me.

"I see you got your flowers," A masculine voice calls. "I was hoping I could catch you before you left for the night."

Jonathan is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, wearing an old band t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans with some running shoes. Most of the players were home today since it was an off day and they had no practice scheduled. He had been friendly towards me the last week but I don't understand why he would be so forward with me by sending me flowers. It didn't make me feel uncomfortable, I just wasn't in the mood to play like I was flattered when it was really more of an annoyance that he was interrupting my work day more than anything.

I was here for one thing and one thing only. To do my job and to be great at it. I loved what I did and being around all of these testosterone ridden men wasn't going to stop me from doing what I loved. I had worked too hard and too long to let a penis stand in my way of greatness.

"Well, looks like you did just that." I let out a little harsher than I intended, which only made him laugh and stride into my office like he owned the place.

"I wasn't sure what your favorite flower was but I know that most women love a good bouquet of roses." Barf. Really? Throwing it out there that he just had to have known what women liked made me feel like not only was he a cocky son of a bitch, but he also thought he was god's gift to women.

"They're nice, thank you, my favorite are actually tulips. Is there anything I can help you with?" I say turning around while shuffling some files on my desk. I can hear him moving behind me but I don't turn around. I stand up straight and try and look as busy as I can so maybe, just maybe he'll get the hint and leave.

"Oh come on, sweetheart. You don't have to play so coy with me. I know you find me as sexy as I find you." His hand is on my waist and the other is moving the hair off my neck. I spin around and push him away without thinking.

"Do I really have to spell this out for you?! I appreciate the flowers you gave me but I'm not interested. I'll see you later." And with that I ran out of my office as fast as my stilettos would let me go.

I wasn't sure where I was going but I needed to get away from him. I had dealt with so much with Warren trying to make advances on me and now this? I was in a permanent state of hating men at this point and I didn't see myself going back on that.

***

Another week passed and it was the last game of a four-game stretch against our rivals, the Sun Devils. I had made myself comfortable on the end of the bench, holding player files and studying the players in their warm-ups.

The announcer called out the players names and the crowd went wild. It was still so surreal to me how I was this close to the action. I loved every single second of it and I knew that this was the best decision I had ever made for myself. I was finally being my own person and giving myself the credit I deserved while also spending my time where I was most happy.

The game was about to begin and everyone was standing for a special acknowledgment of the Armed Forces. Most professional teams would have themed nights for the fans and tonight was all about the military. My younger twin brothers were both in the military so nights like this held a special place in my heart. My one brother was in the Marines and had gone to boot camp while he was still 17, with a signature from my parents of course. He was stationed somewhere in Virginia, but I had no idea where specifically. He moved frequently and went wherever the military sent him. My other brother was in the Air Force. He went when he was 19 after not knowing what he wanted to do with his life, which is still admirable, just not as intense as my other brother. He was stationed in Italy and was training to be a pilot.

I missed them a lot, but knew that what they were doing for this country was way more important than checking in on me when I was lonely in the city on a Friday night watching Friends on Netflix with a bowl of popcorn in my lap. The thought makes me laugh to myself and then pay attention to the announcers again.

"Thank you to all the fine men and women who serve in our Armed Forces. We thank you for your sacrifices and your commitment to keeping us safe. Now we have a special announcement! We welcome a few veterans from World War II to come onto the field to throw the first pitch tonight!"

The crowd went wild. It was amazing to see all the love these Veterans were getting and the attention to how much they sacrificed made my heart overfill with joy.

***

It was the seventh-inning stretch and everyone was on their feet again. The team was down 2-runs and I could see Paxton getting pissed in the dugout. He threw his glove at the wall after a home run was hit off him.

"Fuck, man! I knew I should have thrown a slider. Why did I throw a fastball?" His fist connected with the wall behind the dugout then he sat with his face in his unharmed hand. I looked around and saw that everyone was letting him have a moment so I went and got an ice pack from the ice chest and walked over to give it to him.

I stood in front of him, not sure exactly how to approach the situation at hand. I had dealt with my fair share of aggravated ball players, but none that I was dancing with and thinking about undressing when I was drunk only a few weeks ago. So I decided to do what I thought was best, be rash and to the point. I didn't need to strike up a conversation about our lives, I just needed him to not have a completely swollen hand.

"Here, ice it before it gets bad," I say while holding my hand out, cold from the ice pack.

His eyes meet mine but he doesn't say anything. He just grabs it from me and puts it on his hand, lowering his head and returning to his sulking. I guess that's as good as I can do, so I don't push the situation anymore.

The game ends and the Bears lost 3-1. It was brutal, but not the worst outcome from a game I'd ever seen. I walked back to the training center and see Paxton sitting there talking to Peter about his hand. I try and walk away so I don't have to face either of them, but I wasn't fast enough.

"Olivia, I have some work for you" Peter says opening the door all the way for me to enter.