Her hand slides into mine, small but strong, and the contact sends a current racing up my arm. She holds my gaze with such unwavering confidence that I have to remind myself we’re standing in public, surrounded by teammates and thousands of fans.
“Did you see all the press, man?” Austin asks, breaking our connection. He knows all about my father’s political agenda hitting the news this week and his expectations suffocating my dreams.
“Yeah, I’m just keeping my head down. They are nothing but vultures.” The words leave my mouth before I realizewhat I’m saying. “The worst of the bunch are the ones from the local entertainment trades.”
Austin winces, and when I look back at Jess, the warmth has vanished from her face. Her eyes, molten with attraction moments ago, have cooled to ice.
“So, what brings you into the dugout for our annual USC alumni game?” I say in an attempt to recover, desperate to see that smile again.
“I’m an entertainment reporter from one of the local trades,” she says, her words precise and sharp. Each syllable drives the stake deeper into whatever was building between us. Her eyes, which had undressed me minutes ago, now look at me like I’m something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
Fuck me.
“Right. Um…”
“Don’t worry, this vulture isn’t here for you anyway.” Her voice drips venom as she brushes past me. “I’m covering Sal Ruzzi, the alumni actor pitching against you today.”
The contact of her shoulder against mine should feel like a victory after the electricity between us moments ago, but instead, it feels like goodbye.
Sorry, man. I didn’t know, I mouth to Austin.
Austin watches her stomp over to the bench before turning back to me. “It’s fine. She’ll get over it.”
He redirects my attention, and we line up to watch our first baseman approach the plate. I grab a bat and go through the motions of warming up, but my focus keeps drifting back to Jess. God, even angry, she’s stunning, maybe the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I watch as Austin introduces her to the team, pointing outplayers, and then I hear her ask about the unusual number of reporters present. My stomach tightens, knowing they’re here for me—or rather, for my father.
“No idea,” Austin tells her. “I didn’t think alumni games pulled any press, but maybe Sal is more of a draw than I realized. I mean, that got you here.”
“Well, I’m a baby reporter sent to cover the shit stories, so I doubt that’s why any of those folks are here.” She gestures across the field. “I mean, fucking Michelle Shocklam is here. She’s one of the top political journalists out there. I asked my editor if she knew.”
“Well, maybe she’s got a crush on Sal. Or me. You never know.”
Austin’s joke falls flat as Jess becomes absorbed in her phone. Her expression transforms from concentration to shock, and her hand flies to her mouth. I look away, my stomach sinking, knowing that she’s discovered the reason for the heightened media presence.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“What?” Austin asks.
“Logan Carmichael is supposed to be at this game. That is why the reporters are here. That’s what Michelle is doing here.” Her voice rises with indignation. “I can’t believe that piece of shit is coming to this game.”
Austin catches my eye. I offer a shrug in return. I mean, she’s not wrong, but I still flinch internally from the harshness of her tone. He might be a piece of shit, but unfortunately, he’s still my father.
“He’s not coming,” I say, the words heavy in my mouth.
Jess’s head snaps up, and her eyebrows knit together. “How do you know?”
“He’s my father.”
And just like that, whatever spark that ignited between us in that tunnel is extinguished completely. The first strikeout of the game—and it’s not even happening on the field.
one
. . .
Jess
“Of courseI’ve got the exclusive! It’s like you don’t even know me!” I flash my most charming smile as I begin walking backward, away from the semicircle of industry men in expensive suits. They’re nodding appreciatively at what I just said about journalistic integrity, but I catch the way Marcus Delgado’s eyes track up and down my body before returning to my face with unmistakable interest. His wink is so obvious it might as well have come with sound effects.
