39. HOPE
CHAPTER 39
HOPE
S omewhere quiet ends up being this random bar we escape to after dinner at the hotel. It’s lined up with pool tables, dartboards, and old school arcade machines that make a hell of a lot of noise. Rose, who was cleared to travel with us for the next stretch of games, found this place after a quick search of local spots for a night out.
The plan was simple: gather a group, come to this joint, and find some corner where Cade and I could finally have our talk.
The result was anything but: the second a bunch of Orlando Wild baseball players walked in, the locals pounced to take selfies, get autographs, try to get any info they can use for betting, or to get them to join their tables. O’Brian and Miller are in the middle of a pool game with an older couple. Logan is at the bar casually trying to ignore two women who have been trying to flirt with him for the past hour. Lucky Rivera is tearing up the dance floor, even though I wouldn’t have pegged the Boricua for someone who jams to ‘80s hair metal. Rose is next to him, exchanging dance partners halfway through every song—there’s actually a line of men waiting for their turn.
And then there’s Cade.
First, he got caught by a group of elderly men who wanted to talk about ball grips in detail. Then, when Cade managed to excuse himself, he fell in the grip of a small bachelorette party of five very tipsy women. He hasn’t made eye contact with me in a help type of way, and the women have only been chatty, so there’s nothing I can do but sit in my corner at the bar, nursing a glass of lemonade.
My straw makes the gurgling sounds that indicate I’m now trying to suck the bottom of an empty glass. Perfect timing to set it down and take a restroom break. That’s what I get for drinking like three glasses while waiting for Cade to be free.
I also wash my face because the place is hot and stuffy from being so packed, and a couple of women from the bachelorette party walk in right then.
“Do you think Jeff would get mad if I cancel the wedding because I want to propose to Cade freaking Starr right now?” the bride asks her friend with a laugh. They both take the sinks adjacent to mine.
The other woman shakes her head. “No, I think Jeff would abandon his bachelor party and come propose to Cade instead.”
I nod to myself, but the motions of washing my face camouflage it. Cade’s pretty damn lovable so yep.
“Oh my gosh, and did you see his eyes?”
“Did you hear his voice?”
“Did you see his hands ?”
“Do you think his?—”
I rise abruptly, water dripping from my face to my grey T-shirt, and blink at the women through the mirror. The chagrinned looks on their faces tell me that yes, their minds were going in the gutter.
“Ahem.” I turn the faucet off and walk around the presumably bridesmaid to get some paper towels.
“Anyway. Stacy, you should go for him,” the bride suggests.
Stacy sighs so big she deflates. “I already tried. He said he has someone he’s interested in already.”
I trip on my literal own two feet.
Obviously, the attention of the two women turns to me. Credit to the bridesmaid because she makes a move to steady me until it’s clear I’m not really at risk of body injury here.
“Sorry.” I give an awkward laugh. “Maybe I had too much to drink.” Of lemonade but whatever.
“No worries, hun. Love your top, by the way.”
My T-shirt from Target? Sure. Smiling I say, “Thanks, and congrats on the wedding, Jeff’s a lucky guy.”
“He really is.” The bride’s expression grows genuinely content. “But then so am I.”
“Aww. One day I want to have what you guys have,” Stacy says, finally forgetting about me.
The bride begins a pretty speech about how her friend’s special man is surely out there, and this is when I slip out of the restroom.
Until a hand pulls me into a dark threshold right next to it.
My squeak is drowned by Cade’s voice. “It’s me. Sorry. I just couldn’t find another way.”
No complaints from me, especially when he’s got me pressed up against him. Both of his hands are wrapped around my wrists gently—in fact, I don’t even know if he notices how they’re lightly caressing my forearms. I splay my hands on his chest and feel the steady beat of his heart underneath.
My eyes are getting used to the weak light and I start to make out the curl of his hair that’s fallen on his forehead as he looks down at me. Somehow his eyes stay brilliant even in the dark.
“Hey,” he says like a sigh.
“Hey,” I return in just the same way. I bite my lip for a second and release it to add, “I heard that you apparently have someone you’re interested in. Is that so?”
“Who said that?” I can’t suppress the little shiver that the grave timbre of his voice causes with just those words. He shifts his hands to slide up my arms and behind my shoulders, until they’re splayed at my back and pushing me closer.
I open my mouth to respond but that’s precisely when the two women walk out of the restroom, chitchatting about something wedding related. Impulsively, I use my hands to cover Cade’s mouth while they pass, and I feel his lips stretch into a smile against the palm of my hand.
And here I am, jealous of my own hand.
Once the coast feels clear, I start moving my hands until Cade grabs hold of one again, the one against his mouth, and he presses a deliberate kiss into my palm.
My breath hitches.
“This is what I wanted to talk about.” His thighs push against mine and next thing I know, he’s walking me backward into a wall. My back flips on a light switch and I blink hard against the harsh white lighting, but at least thanks to that I now know we’re in a cleaning storage room.
“Cade,” I whisper. “We can’t be here. Staff will kick us out of the bar when they find us.”
“So you think we’ll be here long?” His eyebrows rise and he gives me a hot little smirk.
I splutter. “Well, no—I mean—It’s just?—”
I freeze when he leans down, but it’s not to kiss me. His lips brush the shell of my ear as he whispers, “Relax. I actually got permission from the bar owner to be here.” Then he flips the light off again, leans an arm against the wall behind me, and…
Doesn’t move.
He doesn’t need to know that this is making my mouth water or anything, if that’s what he’s targeting, and it feels more imperative than ever that I teach him a lesson.
My hands search in the narrow space between us for the waistband of his jeans. I find the belt loops and pull him to me. “Talk, you said?”
“Ngh.”
“Those aren’t words, Cowboy.”
His snort brushes my hair, but just when I think I won the game, he turns his face and softly, tortuously, scrapes his teeth around the upper part of my ear. The violent shudder that leads me to hide against his chest confirms who won.
Chuckling, Cade cinches his arms around me, this time in a hug that feels ever so sweet in comparison. I sigh into his T-shirt and bring my arms around his waist, settling my cheek against his heart and drinking in the scent of aftershave on his clean skin. A day’s worth of travel among noisy, stinky men makes this so worth it.
Too soon he starts pulling away, and the areas of my body no longer in contact with his feel cold. As I collapse back against the wall, Cade leans his arm on it again to look down at me.
“So, we need to talk, darlin’.”
“So you said,” I grumble, annoyed that I’m no longer wrapped around him like velcro.
“About that kiss…” he starts but the silence stretches for too long.
“Don’t tell me you regret it,” I blurt out.
I catch the silhouette of his head tilting. “Not for a second. I’ve been trying really hard to not do it again right here and now.”
I would definitely not mind that, but… “Then?”
“Did you see the guy sitting two chairs away from you at the bar?”
“Huh?” My nose scrunches up in confusion at the abrupt topic change. “What guy and why does he matter right now?”
“He matters very much.” Cade’s voice is soft, serious, increasing my confusion. “He’s been checking you out all night, trying to gather his nerve to talk to you.”
I shake my head. “In case it’s not obvious because it’s way too dark in here, I’m going to verbalize that I’m confused as hell.”
“Hope, do you know how freaking annoying it feels to see guys salivating over you and not knowing if I should try to protect you—if I even have the right—or if I should tell you to go for it because I’m supposed to be your dating coach, but actually feeling greener than The Hulk on the inside?”
I suck in air. “Jealous?”
“Out of my damn mind,” Cade says in a growl, leaning into me again and this time lowering his forehead to mine. His free hand grips my hip. “But—” he says with difficulty. “It doesn’t matter what I want—what you want is what matters. So who do you want me to be, Hope?”
My eyes widen. My pulse has been a flutter of butterflies at my throat from the beginning, but now turns positively violent. “What—What do you mean?” Something like the sound of waves crash into my ears, and my chest rises and falls rapidly.
Slowly, his hand shifts until his fingers find my jeans’s belt loop. “Do you want me to turn back to being just one more player you sometimes have to ice? Or to keep being your dating coach until you find someone better?”
“Someone better?” I hiss.
“Or…” He swallows so hard that I can hear it over the crashing waves. “Do you want me to change roles from dating coach to dating you?”
“That’s unfair,” I all but wheeze out with what’s left of my voice. “You should also say what you want.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought it was obvious,” Cade says, laughter laced in his voice. But then he removes his arm from the wall and digs his fingers in my loose hair, arching my neck back as he bends lower. His lips stop a millimeter from mine, I can feel the gentlest brush as he speaks, “I want you, Hope. I don’t want to hand you off to some other asshole, even though I’m definitely not good enough either.”
“Hmm.” The admission imbues me with a boldness I never knew I possessed, and I bring my arms up over his shoulders and around his neck. He stills as I give him a little kiss, just the softest suction of his lips, and say, “So if I choose option two you’ll be my wingman with the bar guy?”
His other hand grabs my hip tighter. “Sure.” The word comes out through gritted teeth.
Chuckling, I rise on my tip toes to press my lips against his. I mean it to be a brief kiss, something sweet, but I guess I should know better than to challenge a professional athlete.
Next thing, we’re up against the wall making out as hard as if our lives depended on it. As if each other’s mouths were the oxygen we need to stay alive. For the first time since we arrived to this bar, I’m really thankful for how noisy it is outside because Cade and I aren’t being exactly discreet. Between moans and the sounds of lips sucking, it’s a wonder we really don’t get kicked out of the bar.
Somewhere in there, I remember that I haven’t really answered his main question. Gathering all my willpower, I push at his chest with enough strength that he gets the hint. The loud kissy sound as we separate is almost embarrassing, but not more than our harsh breathing.
“To answer your question,” I say while panting like a dog, “I don’t want to go back to how things were. I can’t.” I close my mouth and shake my head, trying to clear it. But my lips tingle and my whole body’s flared to life. “I can’t go back to being near strangers, or to also feeling like She-Hulk because you’re getting someone else’s attention.”
“Wait, wait.” My eyes are now used to the lack of lighting and I can see his teeth through his smile. “You also get jealous?”
I shift my weight to the other leg. “Maybe. Is that gonna be a problem?”
“Oh, not at all.”
“Good.” I lift my chin and look him dead in the eye. “Because you’re fired as my dating coach, and hired as my da—Eek!”
The man lifts me up. Straight up cinches his arms under my butt, making me grab onto his shoulders. And he’s laughing like he just won the freaking lottery, instead of scoring the most awkward girl in all of the land.