I don’t know how I’m going to prove myself in a room that already doubts me.
But as Susan gives my arm a reassuring squeeze, it becomes painfully clear that this just got a lot more complicated.
Susan exhales slowly, clearly trying to adjust the moment, then turns slightly so she’s facing both of us.
“Amelia,” she says gently, “this is Wilder Calloway. Our star pitcher, and, until about thirty seconds ago, the poor guy I was about to volunteer to give you the full stadium tour.”
Up close, he’s worse.
Broader. Taller. The kind of presence that makes the room feel smaller without him even trying. His eyes flick to mine, curious now, assessing, like he’s trying to figure out which box to put me in.
Intern.
Kamden’s sister.
Problem.
“Wilder,” Susan continues, “I initially called you up because I wanted you to give Amelia a tour of everything, but considering your friendship with Kamden…” She hesitates. “Maybe I’ll just do it myself.”
“No.”
The word is out of my mouth before I can overthink it. My pulse stutters, but I straighten my spine anyway, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“I’m a professional,” I say, meeting her eyes first, then his. “My brother has nothing to do with this. I’ll talk with him later, but I won’t allow him or anyone to stand in the way of how this is going to work.”
Silence stretches.
Then Wilder’s mouth curves into a slow, surprised grin that softens his face for just a moment, like I caught him off guard.
“Well damn,” he says. “Just as badass as your brother.”
Heat creeps up my neck, but I refuse to look away.
Susan studies me for another second, then nods. “Are you sure?”
Hell no.
“Absolutely,” I say anyway.
“Alright,” she exhales. “Wilder, I know you need to get out there, but if you two could quickly pick a time and place, I’ll let you get to it.”
His gaze drops, slow and deliberate, running from my face down my torso and back up again. The attention sparks something dangerous low in my stomach, completely unwelcome and entirely inappropriate.
“I’m free after the game,” he says. “I’ll meet you outside the locker room.”
I nod quickly. “I look forward to it.”
I don’t.
Not one bit.
“Actually,” I add, the words tumbling out before my nerves can stop them, “I’ll need to speak with Kamden after the game. Can we do it after that?”
His grin returns, smaller this time, paired with a quick lift of his chin. “Whatever works for you, doc.”
Doc.
Susan reaches into her pocket. “I’ll give her your number?—”
