Chapter 14 #2
The first baseman is mid-dance with a cute guy wearing a black cowboy hat, and he shoots daggers towards Isaiah for the interruption.
But then Isaiah motions towards the door again and instantly Cody is at the table with his teammates. “Dean Cartwright is here? They couldn’t have picked a different bar?”
“What’s going on?” I look around all four of them for an answer.
“Daddy over here beat the shit out of that one”—Isaiah points to a group of men with eerily similar builds to the ones I’m with—“last year when we played Atlanta.”
“I didn’t beat the shit out of him.” Kai takes another pull from his bottle, eyes locked on the inches that separate me from his catcher.
“You cleared the benches after delivering a right hook to Dean’s jaw that knocked him on his ass.”
“It was your throwing arm, Ace. Do you know how much money that’s worth?”
Kai pops his shoulders. “He deserved it.”
“What did he do?” Kai’s eyes finally flicker up to meet mine at my question.
He doesn’t answer right away, so Travis cuts in from beside me.
“Cartwright had an illegal slide into home while I was covering the base. Took me out by the knees. It was dirty and it pulled me out for the rest of the game.”
My head whips back to Kai. “You punched him for that?”
“Of course not.” He takes a leisurely sip of his bottle. “I hit him with a pitch the next time he was up at bat. I waited for him to charge me at the pitcher’s mound, then I punched him.”
A laugh bursts out of me because, well, Kai doing anything like that seems entirely out of character.
A ghost of a smile tilts from behind his bottle. “This was before Max.”
Ah. Of course it was. He told me he was a different man then, but I like seeing this bit of fire in him. And the way his jaw flexes when his attention falls to the minimal distance that remains between Travis and me tells me it’s still in there.
The table is small, the bar is crowded. I’m not standing any closer to his catcher than he is to his brother, so even though I like this side to him, he’s being really fucking dramatic.
Travis pops off the table. “I’m grabbing us another round.”
Cody and Isaiah turn their backs to us, facing the dance floor once again to entertain themselves by checking out every woman who walks by, but Cody also does the same to a couple of the cowboys. Kai takes the opportunity to slide around the table to my now unoccupied side.
He leans on his forearms, sipping his beer, and he doesn’t look at me when he tries to casually throw out, “Travis is a good guy.”
Here we go. “Yeah. He is.”
He nods, still refusing to look my way. “Close to your age too.”
“Well, that’s too bad. As I said earlier today, I’m into older guys.”
His eyes flicker up to mine. “He likes you.”
He’s a good actor.
“Does that bother you?”
He exhales a humorless laugh. “Isaiah asked me the same thing.”
“And what did you say?”
Kai straightens to his full height again, deliciously overbearing as he stands over me. “I told him it would only bother me because you’re here for Max.”
“And is that the truth? Because of Max?”
The corner of his lip lifts in a smile he’s trying to suppress. “If I were to tell the truth, I’d say it bothers me enough that I’ve been spending my entire evening watching you and plotting a way to get Monty to trade him.”
I huff a laugh, a smile on my mouth mirroring his. “And you call me ridiculous.”
“I’ve had my moments. I was a different man before Max came along.”
“A man who punches other players mid-game.”
“A man who protects his teammate.”
I raise a questioning brow. “A man who now wants that same teammate traded.”
“Well, we all have our limits now, don’t we?”
“And I’m yours?”
His eyes trail my face, once again landing on my lips. “I think you might be.”
Fucking make a move, Kai.
I know he wants to. I can see it from the frustration that’s grown all night, but it’s as if he’s decided it’d make more sense if I were into Travis or any one of his teammates I’ve danced with, so he’s held back.
And I’m worried the boys’ little game of forcing his hand has only revealed that Kai is no longer selfish enough to take what he wants.
That concern is only amplified when Travis returns to the table, the necks of bottles laced between his fingers. As he sets them down, Kai leaves my side, making his way back to the opposite end with his brother.
“So, are we leaving or staying if Cartwright and his teammates are here?” Travis asks.
“Staying.” Isaiah pins him with a look, a slight slur to his speech already. “Fuck that guy. He was a prick when we were kids playing travel ball and he’s an even bigger prick now.”
“Well, if we’re staying, I’m dancing.” Cody holds his hand out for mine.
The boys turn to look at their pitcher, waiting for him to step in, but all he does is trade his finished beer for a fresh one.
As one song ends and the next begins, one of the outfielders spins me into the next teammate’s pair of awaiting arms.
Only this time the person who grabs me isn’t one of the guys from the team. It’s Dean Cartwright—the player from Atlanta.
“What’s your name?” he asks, one hand on my lower back and his mouth far too close to my ear.
I swallow, looking around the dance floor for a familiar face, but I’ve had a fair amount to drink and he’s spinning me a little too fast to catch a good look at anyone. “Miller.”
A slow smile spreads across his lips. “Aren’t you going to ask me mine?”
“I already know yours.”
“Figures.”
His lips spread in a slow smirk that I’d assume most women would classify as sexy.
But the overly cocky thing doesn’t do it for me anymore.
Now I’ve got a smoking hot but unsure man on my mind, and I can’t think of anything more attractive than the idea of him finding his well-deserved confidence. Especially with me.
I go to pull out of his hold, but his grip only tightens.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I just want a dance. I’ve been watching you all night and wondering what the hell you’re doing here with the Windy City Warriors.”
I stare him straight in the eye. “My dad is the field manager.”
His brows lift. “Monty’s daughter? I had a deal fall through because your dad wouldn’t sign me.”
“Makes sense. He’s always had good taste.”
His laugh is genuine. “Snarky little thing, huh?”
“Can I go now?” I ask, trying once again to unsuccessfully pull myself from his grip without causing a scene.
“One dance, Miller Montgomery.”
It takes me a moment, but I resign. “Fine. But only if you tell me why the entire team hates you so much.”
His smile is devious as we begin to move once again. “I’ve known the Rhodeses since we were kids playing travel ball. May or may not have slept with one or two of Isaiah’s girlfriends in high school.”
“Isaiah doesn’t have girlfriends.”
“He used to. And it was a real easy way to knock him off his game before we played.”
I can’t hold in my disbelieving laugh. “So you’re just a shitty person, huh?”
“I’m a competitor. If something as trivial as that could make my opponent have a bad game, that’s on them.”
“You’re kind of the worst, you know that? I hope the pitch Kai hit you with was a fastball straight to the nuts.”
A smile slides across his lips. “Thanks, doll.”
My head is on a swivel, looking for the team, and I finally find them all gathered at a table, eyes locked on us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”
“You know my schedule already? Sweet of you. My stepsister is staying close by. Thought I might get her out of the hotel tonight. You might know her actually—” Dean’s attention drifts behind my shoulder.
“Oh wow.” His hand falls further south, fingertips draped over the top of my ass.
“I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace before. ”
“I’m playing nice, but don’t you dare let that hand slip any further.”
He simply smiles. “I should’ve said I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace until tonight .”
Huh?
I can feel Kai’s presence long before I see him. When he makes it to us, he pushes Dean’s chest into the crowd, breaking the hold he has on me.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”