Champagne & Baseball

Irreplaceably Improper

"Oh my God" I groaned, putting my head in my hands. I jerked it back up, I needed to explain myself.

"It's not what you think. I was just swimming with them-" I started but he stopped me with the raising of his hand.

"I know." His voice was even and trusting. "I just thought I should let you know that I had to institute a new rule in the locker room. No Danny talk. If they break it, they're benched."

"I'm sorry that I'm causing you trouble." I said as embarrassment washed over me.

He chuckled and stood, walking around his desk. He reached out a hand and put it on my back giving me a light pat.

"Don't worry. I knew hiring a beautiful young woman to work with a group of Neanderthals would cause something like this."

A blush spread over my cheeks and our eyes met. He removed his hand, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"That's all." He dismissed me. I jumped out of my seat, pulling my briefcase with. I left the room in a blur. I was going to kill Dylan. I tried to force a wave of anger to my bones, into my words. I couldn't, I wasn't angry, not really. More embarrassed than anything else.

I made a quick exit, wanting to put as much distance between me and the entirety of the Falcon's as I could. I glanced back. Was this far enough? Could I relax? I smacked straight into the team's owner Jared, my briefcase hitting the ground with a thud.

He steadied me and tossed me a dashing smile.

"Should I be worried that you look so worried?" He said, a twinkle in his eye. He lowered his voice "Are we going to lose?"

I laughed and shook my head, righting myself properly.

"I'm not worried I'm just-" I was at a loss for words. I wasn't about to tell my boss that I was having personal problems. That was not workplace appropriate. He didn't make me fumble around for long.

He switched topics, pulling his hands from my arms. I grabbed my bag off the ground.

"Your sister, Delilah?" I nodded for him to continue. "Is she seeing anyone?"

"I can give you her number and you can ask her yourself if you'd like."

"Yes, I would like that. Is that okay? I don't what it to make you uncomfortable." His expression faded from nervous to full of regret.

"Not at all." I told him as I scribbled her number onto the back of my business card. I passed it to him. As his fingers grabbed it, I pulled him closer, not letting my grip go.

"She likes flowers," I told him. He nodded and I released the card causing him to stumble back a step.

"Thanks, Danny, you're a good sister."

I bit down the sarcastic comment that popped in my head. I was trying to be. Trying to give up my pettiness and jealousy.

I waved goodbye to him and continued my quick pace to the announcer's booth where I handed off the lineups and then lazily walked the halls. Unless the Duck's coach called for me, my job was done.

I situated myself on a cold, plastic bench that was painted a vibrant Falcon red. My new least favorite color. I sorted through my emails, spotting one labeled 'urgent' from Brooke.

Why hadn't she just called? I opened the email and confetti exploded across the screen. 'You're invited!' It read in perky blue lettering. 'To Danny's 23rd birthday party!' The details on the day and time appeared below it along with an rsvp request.

I couldn't help but grin when I saw the location. Rachel's. I couldn't believe I had so easily dismissed our friendship when I moved. She was always surprising me, showing me what a true friend was.

I shot her a text detailing how much I missed her and how much her visit meant to me. I mentioned more than once, that she was welcome to visit at any time.

^^

The Falcon's won. They dominated. As each team filed off the field, I peered at the Duck's faces. It was clear they didn't want to have round two tomorrow.

Jared joined us all as we rushed the field. The Falcon's returned from the locker room, smug smiles plastered on their faces. Though not as smug as Jared's. He held the infamous champagne bottle in his grasp, excitement causing his fingers to tap it incessantly.

Andrea, our PR coordinator placed herself in the middle of the team, high tech camera in her hands. The team hollered as Jared let the champagne flow over them, Andrea's quick fingers catching the moment. I knew without seeing it that it was going to be the front page of the local newspaper tomorrow.

The team fled back into the locker room where Coach Matthew delivered another diamond of a speech. I continued my notetaking and darted out when it was over.

I waited for Brady outside the locker room. He never took too long to shower post game. I tapped my pen against my palm. How was I going to put the quotes I'd been jotting down together? I clicked the end of my pen in and out. The clicking echoed in the empty hall around me.

Brady pulled me from my brainstorming. He flipped out a hat, snapping the back tightly he pulled it snug over his wet hair. His thin black shirt hung off his wide shoulders well. He wore his same old worn out blue jeans. I couldn't look away.

It wasn't fair that he could look that good with nothing more than a shower and some old clothes.

"Good game." I smiled.

"I barely played" he growled out, he said it like it was a bad thing. Like he had been punished by being benched. He had to know that it was because he was too good to risk. If he got injured in a game that he didn't need to be playing in, our season would be over.

Baseball was all about strategy.

We walked to the car together. I found myself in a similar situation to the night before. Brady upset over nothing. He opened my door for me and slammed it shut with such force I jumped. He sat himself and jerked us into drive.

We had barely made it out of the parking lot when I heard the sputtering of the engine. We slowed on the road. My hand was at my chest, worry that something devastating was happening to my car.

There wasn't enough time for us to pull to the side of the road before the car stopped dead. I leaned over to read the dashboard. What had gone wrong?

It wasn't a mechanical failure. There was nothing wrong with the car. It was just completely out of gas.

"We're out of gas." It was a statement, not a question. It came out harsh, I didn't regret it. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turned on the car's hazards and waved out my window for cars to pass.

"There's no distance to empty gauge." He said it like it was the cars fault.

"That doesn't matter when the fuel gauge is dead center on empty." Realization poured over me, I hadn't driven my car in a week. Brady had watched the arrow drop from full for days.

"Who runs out of gas? You're such a child." My blood boiled with a twirl of frustration and embarrassment. I got out of the car. I couldn't stay in it without hurling more insults at Brady.

My phone found its way to my hand. I scrolled through my contacts and selected Coach Matthew. He was the only person I could think of that would still close to the stadium and help me out.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Danny." He said his voice scratchy through the phone. I could still hear the smile from the win.

"Are you still at the stadium?" I asked wanting to kick myself.

"Yes. Did you forget something?"

"No, uhm, I ran out of gas in the center of Lily street." I shot a mean look at Brady through the window, he didn't notice. "Could you come pick me up?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

I hung up. Great. He thought I was an irresponsible kid. I stuck my tongue out at the back of Brady's head and kicked the tire of my car. A black scuff gracing my shoe. I dropped back into the car.

"I'm sorry, okay? I should've filled up."

"Yeah Brady. I get it. You're sorry. You should've filled up the tank, you shouldn't have punched Brandon, you shouldn't have said I was using my body at work." The temper I'd been satiating in my thoughts had been raised too high. It all poured out.

I clenched my phone and chewed on the inside of my lip. Be quiet. Relax. I distracted myself, licking my thumb I worked on removing the mark on my shoe.

"I'm sorry I know I keep f*****g up -" he turned in his seat, his eyes searched me. I bathed in his gaze. "You just - you get in my head."

His hands moved to my knees and squeezed gently. I watched as small veins appeared across his hands, I traced them, they ended at his scarred knuckles. A shiver swam over my body.

"What does that mean?" I asked, growing more frustrated. I pushed his hands off me, turning my legs out of his reach. Rejection stained his face.

"It means that you get in my head. You distract me." He wound his hand around his neck, rubbing at it. There was honestly in his voice. I didn't want to hear it.

I wasn't his distraction, I was a stand-in for Delilah. I knew that's why he was confused about me. Why he touched me so delicately, why he shot me wanting glances. He saw a little bit of Delilah in me. He saw the girl who got away.

No. No longer was I going to be compared to her. I wasn't a poor man's Delilah. I was a lucky man's Danny. I shook my head at him and got out of the car again, my mood swinging as sharp as the door.

I couldn't be near him. I could still feel his eyes scanning me, searching for the similarities I held to my sister.