Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Baseball is so sexy, and I’m not talking about the men.
Pure athleticism is what makes this sport so captivating.
There’s beauty in every position. The catcher’s incredible mobility and strength.
The pitcher, throwing baseballs faster than most highways allow cars to drive.
Infielders with their quick reflexes. Outfielders, who can rocket the ball across the entire field.
“Man, I love this sport!” Adri cheers, whipping a Pilots towel in the air above her head. “Best asses ever!”
Snapping a photo of the field, I send it to my dad. “You need help, my friend.”
When I told Trevor I was studying for the baseball certification exam, he decided it was his civic duty to tell me that baseball players are usually married or in long-term relationships, as if I was only taking the exam to find a man.
He couldn’t have been more wrong.
I’m here for the way baseball makes me feel.
The electricity that crackles along my spine every time the ball connects with the bat.
The roar of blood that fills my ears when someone makes an amazing stop.
The players’ proud smiles that I can’t help but mirror as they make their home run lap.
The way each player wears their heart on their sleeve, beating so hard, I practically feel it in my own body.
My watch lights up with a text, and I grin.
Daddio
I’m so jealous. Take me next time! Work or fun?
One of my many bullet points to discuss earlier with Cade went unanswered, but the biggest is what happened with Jon, and how we should announce his new representation.
Thankfully, my family doesn’t know about Cade’s and my history.
Dad and Myles might not care, but Mom would blow a gasket if she knew.
My professionalism is her main priority.
An unintelligible garble of sound leaves my lips when Cade darts to the right, stopping a ball from rocketing into the outfield. “Yes!” I squeal, writing on my legal pad. Incredible speed!
“Your boy is doing well,” Adri says, red lips slanted into a smirk.
I attempt to pinch her thigh, but she pulls down the white Pilots jersey she’s wearing as a dress. “Adrienne,” I hiss. “Someone might hear you.”
Worries of being overheard disappear when I notice every agent is absorbed in their phones. Cade kindly offered to upgrade our seating, but as badly as I wanted the best seats in the house, I declined. I’m his agent, not his friend. Professional boundaries are important if this is going to work.
Adri fans herself with a scorecard. “I meant your athlete, of course. Nothing more.”
I roll my eyes. “I should have let you die of boredom.”
My notepad is filled with notes from the last four innings, questions for the Pilots’ general manager, and praise for Cade’s game.
Maybe it’s not the worst thing to already know what kind of player Cade is.
Sitting in the stands between Mallory and Kenneth is how I spent my evenings during college baseball season.
“Remember when you got injured during soccer playoffs your freshman year?”
Adri nods, fingers ghosting over her hip. “Coach almost benched me during the championship game. Why?”
I follow Cade’s movement as he jogs to the dugout with his arms extended like an airplane, the Pilots’ celebratory dance. It’s barely noticeable, but there’s a slight dip in his gait as he crosses the field.
“No reason,” I say. I don’t like thinking my player is possibly injured, especially while he seems so okay, but Cade has always been like that. You think you know him, but then you realize he hides other parts of himself. It’s always sunshine with him.
“Daaaamn,” Adri whispers, scrunching her curls. “Hottie alert.”
Although I’m on the clock, Adri calling someone hot is the real deal, so I sneak a peek over my shoulder and immediately wish I hadn’t.
Smoothing my slacks, I straighten as Andy takes a seat behind me. “Hey, Turner.”
Back when we were interns at Permian, Andy was my friend.
After we signed our contracts, I confided in him about the way Trevor excluded me.
The next day, Trevor told me if I had a problem with him, I should say it to his face.
I went from being in hot water with my boss to being scalded every time I entered the office.
Even now, it’s painful to walk into work.
Without turning around, I point at Adri. “This is Adri. Adri, this is Andy Walker.”
The moment she hears his name, her eyes dart to me, and I can practically read her mind. I am not shaking this asshole’s hand. He’s the snitch.
My lips quirk up. Just a quick shake.
She scowls. Fine. Only because I love you.
“Hello.” Andy’s easy-going charm deepens his voice. “It’s nice to meet you, Adri.”
In true Adri fashion, she wipes her hand along her leg and looks him up and down. “I’d say the same, but that wouldn’t be true.”
I bite down on my lip to suppress a laugh and focus on the game. Adri doesn’t care who she offends, and it gives me the boost I need to get through the next four innings.
A hard-fought Pilots win has the stadium buzzing. My hands are still tingling as Adri and I make our way down to the players’ area with our arms looped. She knows I’ve been denied entry before, but having a witness to my shame might kill me.
My chest tightens when I spot the security guard. “I don’t need to meet Cade tonight. I’ll email him or—”
“Nuh-uh. Look at me,” she orders, pulling us to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “You’re gonna go in there and talk to your client. Do you hear me? You’re the best agent in that room. Having a great set of tits doesn’t negate that fact.”
It’s impossible not to smile at the compliment and her undying loyalty. My boobs are pretty great.
“You may be a menace, but you’re my menace. Thank you.”
Her hip bumps mine. “Any time.”
At the door, the guard assesses my badge. “Turner?”
“Shaylene Turner,” I say. “Yes.”
After a brief pause, he opens the door. “Go on in. Cade told me to expect his agent.”
I almost trip over myself as I walk into the restricted area. Being taken seriously fills me with triumph, and I have Cade to thank.
Adri presses her lips to my cheek. “You’ve got this. Find me when you’re done.”
The bustling room is saturated with stunning women and partners, adorable children, and proud family members.
I find a small table in the corner and take a seat.
My first postgame discussion with Cade has to go well.
He’s bigger, faster, and stronger than he was in college.
My notepad is filled with praises I didn’t want to forget.
I’m debating how to ask him about his hip, when mint invades my senses and I lift my head. Dejected hazel eyes clash with the celebration around us, frozen on the legal pad in my hands.
“Nice game,” I say, standing quickly.
He blows out a slow breath. “Not really.”
Ready to prove him wrong, I tap on a note about his height being an advantage and smile up at him. “In the third inning you—”
“Missed two grounders. Back to back. It was bad. There’s a lot to work on between now and the next series, especially if I want to keep everyone happy. So, tell me everything I did wrong.”
Defensiveness sharpens his tone. And if I’m right, fear too.
“Why would you think I’d do that?” I ask.
As if bracing for impact, his spine straightens. “That’s your job, isn’t it?”
My mouth falls open. Who is this man in front of me?
“Cade—”
A hand slices between us, and I jump back. Tattooed vines and flowers are inked into the thickest forearm I’ve ever seen, but nothing could prepare me to find one of my favorite pitchers grinning at me.
Holy shit.
Dawson Huber leans against Cade. “Wow, rookie. She’s even prettier in person. This is your—”
“Agent.” The word leaves my lips so quickly, I worry I should repeat it for good measure.
Dawson’s smile should shrink, but it widens. “You’re Shay, right?”
And here come the hives. “Yes. His agent.”
It takes a beat for Dawson to recover from his moment of shock, but then he extends his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Shay. Don’t see many female agents. Pretty badass if you ask me.”
His normalcy relaxes me, but fear drums quietly beneath my skin. “Thank you.”
As if sensing my unease, Dawson scampers toward his family.
“Please tell me I’m overreacting,” I say, watching Dawson launch an adorable round-faced child into the air. “Does he know about me? Us?”
Cade bows his head. “Sort of. I told him there was someone that things never worked out with. But that’s all, I swear.”
“You clearly showed him a picture,” I hiss. “He recognized me!”
For the first time tonight, his smile shifts from plastic to real. Like my Cade.
“Kind of hard not to brag when it comes to you, Agent Shay.”
A blush blooms under my darkened cheeks, but I glare at him. “He can’t say a word. People can’t know about us, Cade. Losing my job would—”
“You won’t lose anything,” he promises. “Dawson won’t say a word. I’ll make sure of it.”
His assurance doesn’t completely alleviate my stress, but what other choice do I have?
“Hey, Cade!” someone shouts. “You coming out tonight?”
“Not tonight, Marc. Gonna head home.” He drops his head to meet my eye. “Thanks for coming, Shay ba—” A tiny smile tilts. “Agent Shay.”
My eyes dart around the room. Every player looks like they could sleep for twelve hours, but Cade’s exhaustion seems different. It’s one of the first things I noticed when he walked into Permian a week ago. Even when smiling, there is something hollow about the curved shape.
After college baseball games, we had BYOB—Bring Your Own Breakdown—nights.
Together, we broke down every high and low in a way that kept his spirits up.
By the end of the night, pink sticky notes were scattered all over the ground.
When I headed home, the sting of the harder notes was nearly nonexistent.
It wasn’t until junior year that I started staying the night after.
People saw Cade as the golden baseball player and nothing more, but I only saw him.
I need to tell him that even though we aren’t together and things didn’t end on the best terms, I’m still in his corner. I always will be.
By the time I look up to speak, Cade’s gone.