We’re meeting tonight. Dinner. My place. The thought’s been sitting heavy in my chest all day, anticipation tight and dangerous. But seeing her now, unexpected, real, watching me, does something feral to my focus.
I drag my eyes back to Kamden.
Focus.
He gives me the sign. I nod once, wind up, and let it fly.
Strike.
The inning rolls on, and I don’t look up again. Not because I don’t want to, but because I know if I do, I won’t stop. Still, I can feel her presence like heat at my back, grounding and distracting all at once.
We close it out clean. Another win. The stadium erupts.
In the tunnel afterward, the guys are buzzing. Hgh-fives, shouts, someone already talking about shots and where we’re heading next.
Kamden slings an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll grab us an Uber,” he says. “First round’s on Evan since he struck out twice.”
“Not for me,” I say.
He frowns. “What?”
“I’ve got other plans.”
His brows lift as we slow near the locker room. “Other plans?” He studies me for half a second, then grins. “Oh shit, you’ve got plans with a chick, don’t you?”
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly very aware of how thin the ice is beneath my feet. “Maybe.”
He laughs and slaps my back. “About damn time. I was starting to worry you’d turned into a monk.”
“Hardly.”
“I’m glad to see you getting back to yourself,” he says easily. “Have fun and don’t let her get too attached.”
He laughs again, already turning toward the showers.
The sound sticks with me longer than it should.
I feel like shit about the lie by omission, about the way my stomach twists when I think about Amelia sitting in those stands, trusting me in ways Kamden doesn’t even know exist.
But I’ll take the win.
On the field.
And the one waiting for me tonight.
I shower fast,like if I slow down even a second I’ll lose my nerve.
By the time I pull on clean jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, my apartment doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It feels like a loaded weapon. Every surface charged with the fact that Amelia Bronwyn is about to walk through my door.
I’ve never been nervous about a woman coming over.
Excited? Sure.
Hungry? Always.
But this is different.
There’s a knock.
