Chapter Two #3
She nodded as she turned to walk back to the building. “I forgot something important.”
She ran toward the door, vaguely hearing Courtney shout, “What did you forget?”
Ashton didn’t answer, but she knew exactly what she forgot. She forgot to ask Razor the most important question. And if she was right about the answer, that was the key to getting Razor on their team.
* * *
Razor had waited until she knew they’d left before returning to the front desk.
She sat on the edge of the counter, going over the schedule with Riley.
The girl was smart as a whip, and she’d been gunning for more responsibility.
Razor decided to train her as a shift supervisor and go over the expectations of the position.
Suddenly, the door to the parking lot crashed open and startled everyone. Ashton stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. She looked flustered. She looked determined.
She looked…hot.
Her eyes locked onto Razor, and she marched over so fast, Razor barely had time to stand up and step back.
Out of the corner of her eye, Razor noticed Riley clasp the clipboard to her chest and slowly walk to the other end of the counter.
With nowhere to go, Razor planted her hand on the smooth surface and willed her heartbeat to slow as Ashton stood toe-to-toe with her.
“I just have to know one thing.” Ashton’s chest heaved with the gasps of air she sucked into her mouth, drawing Razor’s eyes down to her breasts.
A shiver ran down Razor’s spine, and she gulped.
Surprise registered in her brain at such a visceral, physical reaction to someone she hadn’t seen in years.
She forced her gaze up and waited to hear the question weighing on Ashton’s mind.
“Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“Playing. Feeling that rush of adrenaline when the pitcher strikes out the last batter with the bases loaded. Coming up clutch at the plate with two outs and down by one. Being on the field. Being part of the team.”
Razor opened her mouth, but Ashton cut her off.
“If the answer is anything other than yes, I’m calling bullshit.
You were totally engaged with that pitcher.
Giving her advice, catching the ball like you hadn’t missed a beat.
I remember watching you in San Diego. You had that same drive and passion with the team. ”
“It’s different now,” Razor admitted.
“Is it?” Ashton closed the space and whispered, “I saw you when we left your office. That wasn’t the look of someone who was too busy. That was the look of an athlete who wants to play, but for reasons I don’t understand chooses to let the opportunity pass her by. Admit it.”
Razor closed her mouth. There was a desire for something in Ashton’s gaze that prevented Razor from speaking a coherent thought right now.
She stumbled back and took a breath before confessing, “You’re right.
I do want to play. All of those things you just said—I miss them so much it hurts to think about. But I can’t do it again.”
Ashton’s intensity from earlier dimmed somewhat, and when she spoke her tone combined compassion with understanding. “Tell me why you would turn down this opportunity if it can give you what you want.”
Razor fought back the emotion and knocked her fist on the counter.
“It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it for me, then.”
“Simply put, I don’t think I can play for Nancy again.” Internally, Razor was relieved to give voice to why she wouldn’t pick up a glove again. Even if it wasn’t the entire explanation.
“Well, you won’t be playing for Nancy, you’ll be playing for Courtney,” Ashton said matter-of-factly.
“But if I’m to work with Summer, Nancy will be the coach I’ll be interacting with most, and if we butt heads, it can affect our team in other ways.”
A smile crept onto Ashton’s lips, and Razor realized what she’d said.
“You called it our team. Does this mean you’re reconsidering?”
Razor groaned and shoved her hands in her hair. Damn, this woman was so frustrating. How had Ashton gotten her to slip up so easily? So fast? It made no sense.
“Tell you what,” Ashton continued. “Come to practice tomorrow. Hit a few balls, do some drills with the team. Catch for Summer. See up close and personal how special she is. And if you still want to stay on the sidelines, we’ll go our separate ways. Deal?”
Razor eyed the offered hand, then relented and clamped it firmly in her own, staring intently.
“Okay. One practice. Nothing more.”
Ashton smiled, all smug. “We’ll see about that.”
Razor felt a pull in her chest. Slowly, she brought Ashton closer to her. Ashton sensed the shift and quickly pulled her hand out of Razor’s grasp.
“Practice is at four o’clock sharp on the field. Bring your gear, and don’t be late.”
As quickly as she came in, Ashton rushed to leave, but not before turning one last time and mouthing Thank you before heading out into the cold.
Razor turned and leaned her arms on the counter.
“It’s just one practice,” she mumbled. But in her heart, she knew it was so much more. And she smiled.