Page 56 of Leave It On The Field (Grand Slam 3)
“But—”
“Soph, it’s my decision,” he says, squeezing my arm. “You would do the same thing if Maisie was coming after me.”
“I guess,” I whisper. “But I’d tell her to knock it off first.”
“I told Ricky to knock it off. I’ve talked to him again and again. He’s not stopping.”
I shake my head. “God, it would kill me to cut Maisie out of my life.”
“It is killing me,” he says, pulling me back down on top of him. “Ricky and I have been friends since kindergarten, but I’ve given him so many chances. He can’t keep doing this. You’re everything to me. He knows that.”
“Why do you think he hates me so much?” I rest my head on his chest. “I was so nice to him when we first met.”
“You haven’t done anything to make him hate you. It’s not about you.” He pauses for a second. “Have I told you about the classes the league made us take as rookies?”
“Yeah. The ones where they told you to always wear condoms and to never fall asleep around a woman you just met because they would probably take pictures of you in bed and post them to social.”
“Yeah,” he says, “some of the stuff like that was pretty basic, but I really liked one lecture from a psychologist. He was talking about what he called the Fame Quotient. Basically, that when you become famous, everyone wants a part of you, so you start dividing yourself into little pieces to accommodate the new people in your life: agents, publicists, team people, new friends. In making room for the new people, you have to shrink the pieces of you that the people who have always been in your life have—like your family, your childhood friends. They don’t have as much of your time anymore.”
I raise my head to look at him. “I think that kind of happens anyway as we get older, right? I mean, since we got married, I don’t spend nearly as much time with Maisie or any of my friends. I think that’s pretty natural even without the fame.”
“It is, but multiply that times a million when you get famous. Everyone wants a piece of you, and the pieces that everyone gets become microscopic.”
“So Ricky’s mad because his piece keeps getting smaller?”
“I guess. And when you came into my life, it shrunk a whole lot more.”
I roll off him and stare up at the ceiling. “Paul and Stone don’t seem to care. They’re really cool with me. They always have been.”
“Yeah, they have wives and kids, though.” He props himself up on an elbow and kisses my forehead. “They have their own lives. Since Ricky got divorced, he’s counted on me for entertainment. I think he thought we were going to ride the bachelor thing into the retirement home.”
“You’ve never told me why he got a divorce. He said his ex is psycho.”
“No, his ex is cool. Penny transferred into our high school sophomore year. They started dating immediately and got married while they were still in college.”
“So what happened?”
“He cheated on her.” He looks up when Joe knocks.
“Two minutes,” Joe says through the door.
“Who did he cheat with?” I ask as he pulls me off the bed. “It wasn’t Katie, was it?”
“No. I mean, he might have cheated with her, too. But the one Penny found out about was a woman Ricky hooked up with when he was here visiting me.”
“Who?” I ask, falling into him for one last hug. “Someone we know?”
“He’s never said and I don’t really care. I think it was just a fangirl he met one night.”
“Time,” Joe says, knocking on the door.
Seb leans down and gives me a soft kiss. “I can’t believe we get to spend the entire night together. I can’t wait to get home.”
“Are you positive you get to stay at the house tonight?”
“Yeah. We’ve already checked out of the hotel and we’re not flying to L.A. until tomorrow morning.” He opens the door. “I’m feeling another very fast game tonight. Make sure you’re the first person I see when I come off the field.”
“Always,” I say, blowing him a kiss. “Seb, you’re going to win tonight. I can feel it.”
“Oh, baby,” he says, smiling. “I already won the day I met you.”
* * *
