As uncomfortable as that was, it got us here. It’s what drove me into the surf with Alex trailing behind. It’s what encouraged her to suggest we work on our mental hangups—together. It’s what led me to realize I love Alex right before her kiss and her words settled all the itchy, insecure parts of my soul.
She stares at the ground as she shakes her head. “It’s not. I’m going to be better. I’m going todo betterby you.”
I’m about to do something reckless—like grip her chin to draw her attention back to me—when something fast flies in my peripheral vision.
I only have half a second to react, but that’s more than I need. Roughly shifting Alex into the crook of my left arm, I reach out my right hand to catch Rhett’s foul ball before it hits her in the back of her head. Alex gasps as it smacks against my bare palm with a sharp slap. I hiss, dropping the ball to shake out my throbbing hand.
“Are you okay?” I ask, dipping my chin until soothing eucalyptus fills my nose.
Alex tilts her chin up, her lips parted with a shaky breath. It would only take a slight shift for me to capture her mouth with mine. Electricity collects at the base of my spine as all my muscles tense.
“Alex?” My tone is rougher than a brick wall, my restraint a hair’s breadth.
“That was great!” a boisterous voice brings me back to the field. “I got it all.”
Alex and I look toward the bearded cameraman watching us through a viewfinder as reality crashes in like an uncoordinated percussionist knocking over cymbals. Alex is still in my arms—albeit for a very good reason—but now would be a good time to let her go.
Reluctantly, I release my grip, allowing my palm to trace an affectionate sweep over her lower back before I fully step away. The way Alex sways into my touch makes my chest burn.
I clear my throat. “Are you okay, Ms. Stevens?”
“Yes.” She nods, her fingertips shaky as she accepts a microphone from Steve. “Thank you…for your quick reflexes.”
An almost-cocky smile settles over my mouth—the one I usually use for interviews. “I’m well known for my reaction times.”
I see the exact second Alex restrains her snarky response, and I cheer internally, watching her fire return. Alex resets, pulling her mouth into her reporter’s grin, the microphone poised beneath her chin.
“Still rolling,” Steve prompts.
Alex waits a few beats before asking, “How are you feeling about today’s game against the Phoenix Rattlers?”
I answer the question, but I’m already looking forward to after the game, when we can drop all the on-camera posturing and just be us.
Though we won against the Rattlers several times during spring training, they’re putting up a good fight tonight. We’re well into the sixth inning before I even get on base. The corner of my mouth kicks up, even though I’m one-for-three, because Alex will tease me about it later.
Removing my elbow and shin guards, I make small talk with their first baseman. “Hey, Matty.”
“Jackson.”
I almost snort while handing the batboy my batting gloves. Matt Walker is almost as personable as Shane, except he has players coming through his position. At least Shane is all by himself in right field, so he can grumble to his heart’s delight without his bad mood affecting anyone else.
“Nice day.”
Matt grunts.
I step several feet away from the base, leading off toward second while Colton hits a foul ball down the third baseline. As I stride back to touch the base, Matt smiles at me—or at least Ithink it’s a smile? His teeth are showing too much, the grin wet and freakishly wide.
Whatever it is, it’s wholly unnatural.
“I saw you catch that reporter earlier.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle, keeping my face neutral. No need for everyone to know it was the highlight of my day. “I was just at the right place at the right time. That ball would have knocked her out cold.”
“I would have liked to see that,” he says as I lead off again.
Colton sends the next pitch into the net behind the plate.
“What did you say?” I ask, my pulse thick in my neck.
