Pitch Perfect(71)
He tried to lie down, but she grabbed him by the front of the uniform, struggling against his weight to keep him upright. “No. Nope. Tucker, no.”
“Just for a second.”
“Tucker, you took a curveball to the skull.”
“I have a hard head.”
Emmy laughed and touched his cheek. “You do.”
“Can I go back to the game?”
“No.”
Tucker sat up on his own, his head bobbing. “I have to play.”
“No you don’t. You need to sit still, hold that ice to your head and let me do my job.”
“Let me do mine,” he said, suddenly angry. He dropped the ice pack and got to his feet, trying to slip past her.
“What are you doing?” She followed him out into the clubhouse where he was rifling through his locker trying to find something. When he couldn’t locate whatever he was after, he pulled everything out and threw it on the floor. “Jesus, Tucker. Will you please come sit down?”
“I have to play the game.”
“You can’t.”
“That win isn’t mine.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. If I’m not winning, I’m out.”
“What are you talking about?” She had started to pick his stuff up from the ground, stuffing it back where it belonged. When she looked up, he was bracing his arms on either side of the locker, and his eyes were closed tightly. “What are you talking about?” she repeated.
He didn’t reply, and his expression became a wince. Emmy took him to one of the nearby armchairs so he couldn’t try lying down again. She brushed his hair back off his forehead, careful to avoid the growing lump, and held his chin between thumb and forefinger.
He opened his brown eye and stared at her. “They want me out.”
“That’s not possible.”
With both his eyes open, she had trouble deciding which one to look at. Staring at someone with heterochromia was worse than trying to figure out which was the right one when someone had a lazy eye. At least both of Tucker’s eyes were bright and clear, fixed on her with no glassy lack of focus.
“If I don’t show them I deserve to be here, I’m out.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve won six of your last starts. You’re playing better than you have in five years. Not to mention you have two years left on your contract after this season.”
“Everyone is for sale in this game.”
“They’re not going to trade you.”
“They told me they would.”
She dropped her hands to his lap, keeping herself up by holding on to his knees. “I can’t let you play. You wouldn’t be able to play even if I wanted to let you—which I don’t—because Omar is already in. That’s it for today. There are more games. The season isn’t over.”
“This might have been it for me.” He wasn’t looking at her now. Instead he stared at the ceiling, shaking his head. “I really thought I could make it happen.”
“You know they’re talking Cy Young for you this year?”
“Does it matter? Pitchers have been traded after winning it. I’ve won it before, and they still want me gone.”
“You’re only thirty-six.”
“I’m thirty-six in a sport full of twenty-three-year-olds. We both know I’m living on borrowed time. I just didn’t think my time was going to be up so soon.”
“Tucker, stand up.” When he didn’t move, she climbed to her feet and held out her hands to him. “Can you please stand up?”
He got out of the chair, and she didn’t try to help him stay standing. He wavered slightly but seemed to be okay.
“One game isn’t going to make or break your status with the club,” she told him, keeping her voice quiet but firm. “And you can’t ask me to make special exceptions for you. That’s not how this is going to work.” She pointed from herself to him and back. “I won’t ever do that.”
“This?” He had picked up one damn word from the middle of her speech and latched on to it. “If that’s not what this is, then what is this?”
A week was too soon to be asking or answering that question. Even though it was all she’d been thinking about since their first morning in bed together, she didn’t want to be the one to broach the subject. And now that Tucker had, she wanted to throw up. Not because she wasn’t ready to answer, but because the way he asked made her wonder what he was expecting her to say.
The wheels of her brain were spinning, and her mouth fell slack since she wasn’t sure where to start. “Uhh.”