Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Wild
I wake up with the ghost of her still on my skin.
The room smells like her. Soft, warm, familiar already. For a few seconds, I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, letting it sink in.
Last night was real.
She was real.
I watched her sleep, hair fanned across my pillow, lips parted slightly, completely unguarded.
The sight hits me harder than any fastball ever has.
There was no performance in her last night.
No masks. Just heat, connection, and a closeness that felt too damn natural for something that’s supposed to be wrong.
I’ve never felt this way.
Not the wanting, that part’s easy. I’ve wanted plenty of women.
It’s the falling that’s new.
The way I felt afterward, wrapped in her, both of us quiet and blissed-out, like the world had finally stopped demanding things from us. The way she smiled when she left this morning, lingering in my doorway like neither of us wanted to be the first to fully let go.
I already made plans for tonight.
I don’t want space.
I don’t want distance.
Now that I’ve been inside her, emotionally and physically, being away from her feels wrong. Like I found something essential and immediately lost access to it.
I get ready on autopilot and head to the stadium, forcing myself back into routine. Armor on. Wild Calloway in public mode.
When I walk into Susan’s office, my gut drops.
Susan is there.
And Amelia.
She’s seated beside the desk, tablet in hand, hair pulled back, professional and composed like last night didn’t happen at all.
Disappointment hits fast and sharp, but I bury it just as quickly. I’m good at that. Always have been.
“Morning,” Susan says, studying me closely.
“Morning,” I reply easily, dropping into the chair.
The session starts like any other. Grief, sleep, coping. I give them the truth, just filtered enough to keep the secret safe. Amelia asks a few thoughtful questions, her voice steady even though her cheeks flush faintly when our eyes meet.
Susan leans back, watching me.
“You seem lighter,” she says slowly. “Happier.”
My gaze flicks to Amelia before I can stop it.
I grin. “Sometimes things happen that are out of your control, and you just need to roll with it.”
Susan’s brow dips. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “You’ve told me how many times over the years that maybe something besides baseball could make me happy?” I stand, feeling bold, reckless, alive. “I think I might be on the verge of finding something that makes me as happy as baseball does.”
Susan smiles, genuinely pleased. “Wow, Wilder. That’s amazing. What is it?”
I wink and grab my jacket.
Amelia looks panicked now. Her eyes wide, cheeks flushed, breath caught.
“Oh,” I say lightly as I head for the door. “That’s not something I’m going to talk about.”
I pause, glancing back at her, letting my gaze linger just long enough to make the message clear.
“Not yet, anyway.”
Then I walk out, heart pounding, already counting down the hours until tonight.
Practice should clear my head.
It usually does.
The crack of the bat. The smell of dirt and grass. The rhythm of warm-ups and drills has always been enough to quiet everything else. Today, though, Amelia is everywhere. In my head. In my chest. In the way, my body still feels tuned to her like a frequency I can’t turn off.
Every pitch I throw, I’m thinking about her smile this morning. The way she pretended nothing happened while her cheeks betrayed her. The way she looked at me like she already knew my tells.
I miss her.
That realization hits harder than it should.
“Yo, Wild.”
Kamden’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and for half a second, dread coils low in my gut.
Does he know?
Can he see it?
I turn, forcing my usual easy grin into place. “What’s up, bro?”
He tosses me a towel, plopping down on the bench beside me. “You hungry tonight?”
“Always,” I say.
He nods, like he’s already decided something. “Come over. Grab some beers, order food. Feels like it’s been forever since we just hung out.”
My mind races.
Tonight was supposed to be Amelia and me. Private. Controlled. As controlled as anything between us can be, anyway.
“Uh,” I start, rubbing the back of my neck. “I might—”
“Amelia will be there too,” he adds casually, like it’s an afterthought. “If that’s cool.”
The world tilts.
Excitement pulses through me. Sharp, dangerous, electric. The kind that makes your blood heat and your instincts scream yes, even when your brain knows better.
“Yeah,” I say too quickly, then rein it in. “Yeah, that’s cool.”
Kamden smiles, satisfied. “Good. She’s been working her ass off. Thought it’d be nice.”
“Yeah,” I repeat, heart pounding now for entirely different reasons.
Nice isn’t the word.
This is a terrible idea.
A reckless one.
A thrilling one.
As Kamden heads off toward the locker room, clapping another guy on the shoulder, I stare out at the field and let out a slow breath.
Dinner with my best friend.
And the woman I’m falling for.
In the same room.
Excitement buzzes under my skin, dark and intoxicating.
I’m toweling off after practice when my phone buzzes.
Amelia: I think I’m going to pull out of dinner tonight.
My stomach drops.
I stare at the screen for a beat, then type back.
Me: No.
Three dots appear almost instantly.
Amelia: Wilder, it’ll be too hard.
I grin despite myself, adrenaline kicking in.
Me: Something is already hard.
Her reply comes with a laughing emoji.
Amelia: Be serious.
I lean back against the locker, the noise of the room fading out.
Me: I am serious. I’m capable of acting like we’re just friends. I’m good at keeping the mask in place. We’ll be fine.
There’s a pause this time. Longer.
Amelia: We haven’t even discussed what this is. I don’t want my brother finding out before we even know.
That one hits deeper, but I don’t hesitate.
Me: You worry too much. I’ll see you at Kamden’s tonight.
I slip my phone back into my bag before I can second-guess myself.
Kamden’s place smells like beer and takeout the second I walk in.
“Wild!” he calls, clapping me on the shoulder. “Perfect timing.”
Amelia’s already there.
She’s leaning against the counter, laughing at something Kamden says, hair pulled back casually, wearing a soft sweater that looks innocent enough to fool anyone but me. When her eyes flick to mine, something electric snaps between us.
Just for a second.
Then it’s gone.
Mask on.
“Hey,” she says, calm. Friendly.
“Hey,” I answer the same way.
On the surface, it’s nothing.
Underneath? Everything is vibrating.
We sit around the small kitchen table, beer bottles clinking, Kamden talking about the game, about some idiot play from last season that still pisses him off. Amelia listens, smiling, chiming in like this is just another normal night.
Her knee brushes mine under the table.
Accidental.
Maybe.
I don’t move it away.
Neither does she.
Kamden doesn’t notice a damn thing.
At one point she reaches across the table to grab a napkin, her fingers grazing the back of my hand. Her touch is light, fleeting, but my pulse jumps like I’ve been shocked.
I take a long pull from my beer, forcing myself to breathe.
This is fine.
We’re fine.
Kamden gets up to grab more drinks, and Amelia leans closer, her voice low enough only I can hear.
“You’re enjoying this,” she murmurs.
I don’t look at her. “Aren’t you?”
Her lips twitch. “Hardly.”
When Kamden comes back, everything snaps back into place. Laughter, easy conversation, the illusion intact. But every time Amelia laughs, every time she shifts closer, every time her eyes meet mine for half a second too long, the heat builds.
On the surface, it’s just dinner.
Underneath, it’s a test of control I’m not sure either of us is going to pass for long.
And as I watch her across the table, calm, brilliant, hiding just as much as I am.
I grin, because I don’t want this dangerous game to end.