Page 55 of Caught Offside

A pause. Marc’s chair creaked. “Last week you wanted five years and a fight.”

“Last week I was looking for a reason to stall. Three years and the no-move keeps me in Chicago. That’s the only part I actually care about.”

“You understand what you’re handing them. A discount and a short leash, gift-wrapped.” Marc’s voice shifted. “You’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Marc was quiet a moment, and when he spoke again, the salesman had gone out of his voice. What was left underneath was tired.

“I have to say one thing as your agent, then I’ll make the call. The smart move is the other one. You let the list come out, you let the Suns build a franchise around you, you bank the term and the money while you’ve got the leverage. That’s the advice I’d give any client who asked me cold.”

“I’m not asking you cold.”

“No. You’re not.” A breath. “You have never once asked me to make you richer. You asked me to keep you somewhere. So I’ll call Ostrowski, and I’ll make your no-move the easiest yes they give all week, and I’ll back it the whole way. Not because it’s the smart play. Because it’s yours.”

“Thank you, Marc.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m going to go argue with myself about your money the rest of the afternoon.” The line warmed by a degree. “Go do whatever it is you’re about to go do.”

Patrick hung up. Once the deal was signed, it was settled: a no-move clause forced Chicago to protect him, which put him out of the Suns’ reach. It put the decision out of his own reach too. He couldn’t talk himself back out of it now, and that was exactly why he’d done it.

He waited to feel the loss of it, the years, the money he’d just signed away, and it didn’t come. What came instead was quiet. He’d done what he’d spent his life refusing to do: wanting something aloud, where it could be taken from him, and reaching for it anyway.

That left the other part.

He opened his browser. He didn’t search the Fireflies. Asher wasn’t a Firefly anymore. He searched the Milwaukee Mavericks, and the home schedule came up, and there it was. A home game tonight.

He looked at it for a long time. The screen dimmed, and he touched it awake.

Tonight, in Milwaukee, Asher would crouch behind a major-league plate for the first time, in the uniform of the club his father had pitched for, and do the thing he’d been chasing his entire life. There was no version of his own life Patrick could stand to live in where he wasn’t in the stands to watch it.

He didn’t have a plan past being there, which was new by itself. No script, no contingency, no idea what he’d say when he got there. He only knew he was done holding Asher at arm’s length, that Asher had spent the worst week of it reaching for him and getting nothing back, and that the least he could do was close the gap in person, somewhere Asher could watch his face while he said it.

He went to the bedroom, pulled a shirt off a hanger, grabbed his keys, and caught himself halfway to the door. First pitch was hours off, and the last thing Asher needed before his first big-league start was Patrick turning up at the clubhouse with everything still unsaid, pulling his head out of the game. He made himself set the keys down. He’d time the drive to get there for the game, take a seat, and let Asher work. He’d find him after. He’d find the words on the way.

He stopped in the entryway. He’d kept his life bare enough to walk out at a moment’s notice for as long as he could remember, and he didn’t want to be able to walk out anymore.

He opened his phone and found Asher’s thread.

Patrick typed. Stared at it. Didn’t delete it.

I’ll be there.

He hit send before he could talk himself out of it, and made himself not read it back.

He set the phone on the counter. His hands were steady. His pulse wasn’t.

The typing dots appeared, and Patrick watched them and waited.

The dots disappeared, then returned.

At the game?

Patrick typed back.

Yes, the game. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t care. I’ve been self-absorbed in my own shit this week, but I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Can we talk after?

The answer came in three seconds.