We know what we’re doing. We know how we want to run this team. Together.
She finally nods and gives me the smallest tilt of her lips. It’s not much, but it’s more of a smile than she’s probably worn all day, so I take it.
“He has to do well.” Reese circles the pads of her fingertips against her temples. “I know that’s asking a lot of him so quickly, but he really needs to do well on this upcoming road series.”
“I know. I’ll take care of him.”
She nods, fingers still massaging her skin, attempting to release a bit of the tension.
My eyes snag on the fresh pink polish. “You got your nails done.”
I doubt anyone else would notice. The color is just a slight shade off from the light pink she had on yesterday. But I have images of her manicured hands stroking over my cock ingrained in my memory, so the color change is easily identifiable for me.
“I did.” She holds her hands out to examine her fresh manicure. “I promised myself they’d look good today.”
I’m not sure exactly what that means, but knowing Reese, there’s probably something petty behind that promise that I’d fucking love to know about.
Taking a step forward, my shins hit the edge of the bench as I reach forward and tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my thumb coast along her cheek as I do.
She closes her eyes, leaning into my touch, but adds a warning tone onto my name. “Em.”
“I know.”
I run my thumb over her lineup of earrings before I drop my hand back to my side.
Blue eyes are pinched as she looks up at me. “Last night was reckless.” The statement hangs between us. “A hell of a lot of fun... but reckless.”
I huff a small laugh. “I know.”
“There are more eyes on me than ever now. We can’t...”
“Reese, you don’t have to explain it to me. I know. And I agree.”
She offers me a thankful grin.
“I don’t like it,” I tell her. “But I agree.”
“I don’t like it either.”
The partition is covering me, so though I know nothing can happen between us, I don’t move from my spot at the edge of the bench. I’m allowed to stand close to the woman. I’m just not allowed to kiss her. Or fuck her. Or call her mine.
“So, how’d I know I’d find you here?” I ask. “I believe this is the third time now that I’ve caught you sitting in my seat.”
My seat that I never use because I like to watch the games from the spot right by the dugout stairs, leaning against the railing.
“I used to hide out here when I was a little girl,” she admits, and for a moment, I’m startled by her honesty. Part of me assumed she’d make up some excuse or call it a coincidence, but maybe she’s too tired to lie to me. Or maybe she just wants to tell me the truth.
“When I was growing up, I used to hang out here during practices or hide from my parents when I wasn’t ready to gohome just yet. I always loved that it had these partitions around it.” She puts her hands flush to the walls on either side of her. “Six-year-old me thought it was her own personal fort. If I couldn’t see anyone else, they couldn’t see me.”
Fuck, that’s sweet. My chest cavity seems to split at the mere thought. Especially knowing how much this woman loves this team and realizing it all started when she was just a little girl, sitting in this same spot.
“Then, last year, I found myself out here again when I came back to work for the team. I remembered what a great hiding spot it can be. It’s a nice reprieve from the office, from all the eyes on me. A place where no one will know to come look for me. Well...” She nods in my direction. “Usually.”
She’s all human right now. All soft and vulnerable. It’s a good reminder that while she holds her head high around everyone else, she still needs a place to rest. Even if it’s done in secret.
I might not be able to protect her the way I want to, or shield her from the ugly headlines and names, but I could shelter her in a different way. Be a soft place for her to land.
Maybe it doesn’t just need to be this secret spot that’s a reprieve for her. Maybe I could be a resting place too.
