Chapter 14 #2
I take a few deep breaths before returning to the bar. I lift it off the rack again and sit myself into a deep squat at the exact moment Reese decides she needs to stretch her calves. Hands and feet on the mat, ass in the air and done so facing the opposite wall from me.
Is she fucking with me?
She has to be fucking with me, right?
I barely get through the one single rep, too distracted and too mesmerized by the way her body moves, by the way her ass jiggles. By the way she won’t fucking talk to me.
Giving in, I re-rack the bar for the last time. And I’m still as frustrated as I was when I started my workout, aggressively removing the weighted plates and putting them back where they belong.
“I’m done,” I exhale in defeat. “The place is all yours.”
I don’t know why I announce it. I supposed it’s in the hope she’ll say something to me in return.
She doesn’t.
Reese has moved over to the free weights, but I don’t look in her direction again as I grab my T-shirt, phone, and water bottle and head toward the small locker-room-type bathroom attached to the gym.
I keep my eyes down, locked on my phone screen, disconnecting my music from the surround-sound speaker.
“Emmett,” she says, stopping me before I’ve slipped out of the room.
I can feel how hopeful my expression is when I turn back to face her, eager that she’ll talk to me for longer than one clipped sentence.
There’s an apology in the way she looks at me from across the room. It’s enough to tamp down a bit of the frustration I’m feeling toward her. Because whatever is going on, that look on her face lets me believe there might be a part of her that dislikes her new rules too.
Reese opens her mouth, then closes it again, and when she finally does speak, all I get is a simple, “I hope you have a good night.”
I hate this.
“Yeah,” I force out. “You too.”
With that, I round the corner behind the half-wall that separates the bathroom from the gym.
Hands on the sink, I dip my head.
I need to let this go. Who cares if I can’t remember the last time I was this attracted to someone? Who cares that I can’t remember the last time I was this interested in every word that came out of someone’s mouth?
She’s my boss. It was never going to happen anyway.
Turning on the sink, I splash a bit of water on my face.
I was planning to shower here before heading to my apartment, but knowing Reese is right on the other side of this wall, working out in that tight little outfit, it seems like a terrible idea.
I’ll let my imagination run wild in the privacy of my own shower at home.
I wash my hands and slip my sweat-soaked shirt back on when the creak of the gym door opening grabs my attention.
Did she leave already?
I’m about to go check when I hear one of my players speak.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Harrison says. “I didn’t think anyone else was going to be here. What are you doing here on a Friday night?”
Every one of my senses goes on high alert as I listen in.
“Reese. Ms. Remington. Boss,” she says, no humor to be found in her tone. “Any of those would work.”
It’s hard to hear everything that’s said between them, but what I do catch, I don’t fucking like. He’s patronizing in both his tone and his words.
Everything Kai said about him has already given me a new view of the guy, and I’ve had a hard time with him since. I’ve tried to keep it as professional as I can, but I’m learning I’m not great at that.
Not with Reese and, in a different sense, not with Harrison.
He makes a few snide remarks about how she may want to use smaller weights. He tells her he missed her on the road trip to Detroit. And he once again asks her what she’s doing here on a Friday night.
It takes everything in me not to go out there and rip into him for the way he’s speaking to her, but I also know that Reese would hate it if I jumped in to rescue her when she can handle it herself. So instead, I continue to listen.
“I own the place,” she says simply. “So what exactly are you doing here?”
Harrison chuckles in this demeaning way, and this whole interaction is showing a side to him I’ve never witnessed myself before.
“I left my car here during the road series, so my buddy here dropped me off.” And apparently, there’s two people in there with her.
“I was just showing him around the beautiful facility that you, as you pointed out, own.”
That checks out. I remember parking my truck in the private lot next to his car earlier tonight. Didn’t think much of it until now.
“Is there a bathroom around?” Harrison’s buddy asks.
“Through there,” Harrison says. “I gotta use it too.”
It’s not that I care if he knows I’m here, but I’m real curious to hear what else he might have to say when he thinks no one is listening. So, for that reason, I slip into a shower stall before Harrison sees me.
“That’s your boss?” his friend asks.
He scoffs. “Yeah, exactly.”
“She’s hot.”
Okay. Get fucked.
“Dude, it’s embarrassing,” Harrison whispers. “I play for the one fucking team that’s run by a woman. She’s out of her league.”
All I see is red.
That anger that had begun to tamp down from that last interaction with Reese quickly amps back up. My blood goes hot, and any energy I may have expended on that leg workout comes flooding right back, giving me the overwhelming urge to punch this guy straight in the face.
They finish their business and exit the bathroom, but before they leave the gym, Harrison says one more thing to Reese. “If you need Friday night plans, I know of some ways to keep you busy.”
As soon as I hear the door to the gym close, I leave the shower stall, exit the bathroom, and immediately find Reese already looking in my direction. As if she knew I overheard everything and would have something to say.
“Has he spoken to you that way before?”
She sighs. “Emmett—”
“Reese.” There’s even more anger and urgency in my voice the second time. “Has he spoken to you that way before?”
She doesn’t say anything, but her silence is enough of an answer for me to know that that little interaction was nothing new.
I already know why she doesn’t want to confirm it.
She doesn’t want me to think her idea of trading him has anything to do with the way he addresses her.
And I know by now that Reese would put all of that to the side for the good of the baseball club.
If she felt he was the right player for her team, she wouldn’t dare think of getting rid of him simply because he’s a patronizing little prick.
But I fucking would.
I shake my head, utterly pissed off that I didn’t know about it sooner. Then I look her dead in the eye, arms crossed over my chest when I say, “Trade him.”