“You stupid cunt.”
The word made her flinch, but only for a moment. “Out.”
The Twins manager was making his way across the field, clearly hell-bent on diffusing the situation before his man got tossed from the game. But anyone who could see the fuchsia color the batter had turned would know he was in an absolute rage.
“I won’t listen to you. You’re a fucking hack. Fuck you.”
The moment the manager—an older guy with a grandfatherly countenance—arrived at the plate, Alex assumed that would be the end of it. Donaldson had to chill out in the face of reason, which would presumably be what the manager would bring to the plate.
“Teddy, what the hell are you doing, standing out here caterwauling like a madman?”
“It was a goddamn ball. I want this bitch to admit it was a goddamn ball.”
“Christ on a cracker, kid, you can’t talk to her like that,” the manager grumbled, going to reach for Donaldson’s arm to lead him off the field. The older man was looking at Alice instead of Teddy, trying to convey apologies through his expression without riling the kid up more than he already was.
Teddy jerked free, and without meaning to, his elbow shot backwards. Alex didn’t have time to process what was happening before the hard point of Teddy’s elbow collided with Alice’s cheek. Her head snapped back like the scene was moving in slow motion. Alex stepped up to catch her in case she fell back, but in spite of the force of the blow, she remained standing. She was one tough lady.
It didn’t matter that it was an accident, or his rational brain was telling him no good could come from reacting. Alex’s big-brother, white-knight instincts kicked into high gear.
He swung without realizing he’d thrown the punch, his fist cracking across Teddy’s cheek.
Unlike Alice, the batter went down like a sack of potatoes.
Alex had just knocked the guy out.
Chapter Seven
“Hold still.” Alex sat back with an exasperated sigh and put the Ziploc baggie of ice he’d been holding on the bar counter. “If you keep flinching, people are going to think I’m the one who gave you the black eye.”
“They’ll already think that even if I wasn’t flinching.” She took the ice, which was wrapped in a stained bar towel, and grabbed hold of Alex’s hand. This time he was the one to pull back. “Who’s being a wuss now?”
Someone had bandaged up the cuts on his knuckles where the skin had split, but a swell of redness across the back of his hand showed where bruises would begin to crop up in the morning. Guilt bubbled up in her chest for the role she’d played in his injury. If his hand hurt too much to catch or bat, his position as the starting catcher could be in jeopardy. She would feel pretty bad if he missed opening day because he’d decked a guy for her.
He must have sensed her tension because he held his hand still and let her place the ice on it with no further complaints.
“Do they think you broke anything?” she asked. Alex had been required to have a full checkup after the game, as was typical of any injury. Only this injury was anything but typical.
“Nah.” He wriggled his fingers under the bundle. “I’ll be okay. It just feels tight, that’s all. It’s going to look pretty badass, though.” When Alice didn’t laugh, he added, “I’ve gotten hurt worse by rebounding hits on the plate or flying bats. Trust me, if it was broken, I’d know.”
She let out a small sigh of relief. Catchers bore the brunt of in-game injuries, so if Alex was confident he would be okay, she’d have to trust his judgment.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” He seemed hell-bent on ignoring the question, raising his good hand to the bartender and flashing two fingers. Whatever it was he’d ordered, either he was double fisting, or he was expecting her to join him. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do.
Drinking with him seemed awfully close to a date. But she’d agreed to come with him after the game. It had been hard to resist his sweet hangdog look, and he had defended her against that belligerent asshole Teddy Donaldson. Joining him had been the least she could do, but did that extend to drinking with him?
Alice didn’t make the best decisions when she drank.
Matt had convinced her he was charming because she’d been drinking when she met him. And while he was still alluring when she was sober, when she was drunk he’d been downright irresistible.
She already thought Alex was cute and sweet and more than a little dangerous to her defenses. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world to give him additional ammunition to bring down her walls.