“No one thinks I know what I’m doing, including you.”
He pauses for a long moment and when he speaks again, there’s this regretful tone to his voice. “I need to apologize—”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Yes, I do. I need to explain myself because the last thing I want is for you to view me with any sort of comparison to them.” He nods in the direction of the hotel we’re staying at. “I don’t like how you were being treated tonight.”
“I can handle it.”
“Yeah, I know you can. But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”
Those kind brown eyes are filled with an apology he doesn’t owe me. Because in this moment, for the first time today, it feels like I’m not entirely alone. And that means more than he probably realizes.
I shrug nonchalantly. “I’ll feel better when we finish the season with a better record than each and every one of them.”
A warm laugh bursts from Emmett’s chest, instantly bringing a smile to my lips. “You read my mind. This conference is supposed to put the competition on pause, but watching those other owners around you tonight, all it did was make me want to beat every one of their teams on the field for you.”
“For me, huh? You’re the one up for a new contract this season. Don’t you think a winning record would benefityourcase?”
“Yeah, well, why can’t it do both? You said it yourself, Reese. We’re on the same team. Don’t you remember?”
I find him with a teasing yet testing smile on his lips and I mirror it with my own.
“Yeah, I remember.”
9
Emmett
As soon as I’m back in my room from my morning run, I slip off my sweat-soaked shirt, tossing it on the floor to remind myself to separate it from my clean clothes when I finish packing.
While we were only in Vegas for one night, Reese and I are headed straight from here to San Diego to meet the team for a series of road games. I had to pack more than I would for a simple overnight stay and don’t want my workout clothes stinking up everything else I’ll be wearing the rest of the week.
Typically, I find this little conference a waste of time, taking an entire day away while in season, but I learned more last night than I ever thought I would.
Not about baseball or the inner workings of the league, but about Reese.
It was the first time she’s shown me any real vulnerability, and instead of resenting this time away, I was grateful for a chance to be alone with her. Where she couldn’t hide in her office, and I couldn’t hide behind my team.
It was . . .nice.
I’m still catching my breath from my run when my phone rings. I dig it out of my running belt to find a picture of my daughter covering the entire screen and her name scrolling across the top.
“Hey, Millie,” I say through hard-earned breaths as I answer the phone.
“Hey, Dad. Just calling to check in on you. How was the conference?”
“It was...” I hesitate. “Not as terrible as it usually is.”
“Glad to hear it. Is that because your hot boss was there? Reese is a little nicer to look at than Arthur, huh?Oh my God.” I can hear the grimace in her voice. “Is that why you sound like that? Like you’re completely out of breath. Is she there with you right now? What the hell did I just interrupt? Jesus, Dad. Are you sure you’re healthy enough for those kinds of activities?”
I shake my head, though she can’t see me. “Hey, Miller?”
“Yeah?” She laughs.
“Shut up.”
Her laughter only grows.
