Page 101 of Off Limits: The Firsts

“Gentlemen.”

Nerves rattle and shake through me, and I realize this is fear. This is panic. This is not wanting to screw up.

So very different than how I feel with Easton. So very different than how Easton makes me feel.

And I know I’m ready to slay dragons for him, too.

Starting now.

I meet the eyes of the six men surrounding me at the table, and begin, “I was brought on board to facilitate the rehabilitation of the player, Easton Wylder, and assess his ability to return without limitation to the starting line-up. I’m here to report my findings. Shall we wait for Mr. Wylder’s agent?”

“He won’t be joining us,” Cory Tillman says with a resolute nod of his head.

“Oh, I assumed—”

“Let’s begin.”

I see it the minute I walk into the locker room.

My pinstriped jersey.

Wylder 44

Pressed and hanging in my locker where it hasn’t been in what feels like forever.

A hand slaps me on the shoulder. “Welcome almost back, Easy E.”

I turn to see Manny and the twinkle in his eyes. “You better not be jinxing me, Manny-Man.” I laugh and shake his hand. “I don’t need any bad juju today.”

“No jinxing. No bad juju. Maybe I wanted to give ol’ Santiago a subtle reminder when he walks in here today who was first. And who will be last.”

I shake my head and laugh. Good ol’ Manny. He had my back way back when, and he still has it now.

“God, I love you, old man.”

“I’ve missed watching you play. I can’t wait to sit in the stands tonight.”

I stare at him, eyes wide, mouth open. Did I hear that right? “The stands?”

“Yep.” He nods. “That’s the only place I like to watch the greats play.”

I clear my throat. Such a simple comment means so much to me.

Because it’s Manny.

And it’s what today means to me.

All the hard work.

All the pain.

All the doubt.

I’m so close I can taste it.

“And so it is my professional opinion that Mr. Wylder—”

“Shit!”