Chapter 29
Trevor
Once we’re a few steps from the media room, I pause, flicking a pleading look Patrick’s way.
Thankfully, he understands and lets himself into the crowded space while I stop Kenzie in the hallway.
Taking a deep breath, I tighten my abs, just in case this conversation goes sideways.
I won’t blame Kenzie, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt like heck.
“When we get in there, they’re going to ask a lot of questions—really probing, really personal questions.
I plan on telling the truth as much as I can.
It’s a lot easier down the road if you keep things honest. I’ll try to keep their attention off you and focused on me, but…
” I pause, rubbing the back of my neck. “If this is too much trouble—”
Kenzie’s lips halt my own. Before I have a chance to wrap my arms around her and deepen the kiss, she pulls away, an unreadable emotion in her green eyes.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
Her smile deepens into something so breathtakingly beautiful artists could spend their whole lives trying to capture it and never quite get it right.
“For reminding me what really matters.”
While my forehead bunches, she tugs on the front of my jersey with a gentle, “Come on.”
When we enter the room, flashbulbs flicker like a manic lightning storm.
I’m immediately grateful this isn’t a hallway interview where the reporters and cameras are inches from you, making you feel trapped in a sea of bodies and recording equipment.
Kenzie’s shoulders pitch forward, and she tucks her chin against her chest like she’s protecting herself from a hailstorm.
I place my hand over the small of her back, staying close as I steer her behind the table with two microphones.
The murmur of voices sounds louder than an F/A-18 Hornet, but I ignore it.
I ignore everything but Kenzie, sliding my thumb back and forth over her tank in a reassuring way.
My hands are still dirty from the game, and she’s still wearing her scary-accurate aging makeup.
Once Kenzie is tucked into her chair, I drag the second chair as close as physically possible and sit down beside her.
The urge to wrap an arm around her is a palpable thing, but I settle for resting my hand on her thigh beneath the table where the reporters can’t see it.
My other hand reaches forward to cover the microphone between us.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, my lips a hair’s breadth from the shell of her ear.
Kenzie bites the corner of her mouth. “I’m trying to be, but this is a lot.”
“I know.” I barely resist the impulse to kiss her temple. “If you want to leave at any time, just squeeze my knee twice, and we’re out of here.”
She nods with a shaky exhale. “Okay.”
I take one lingering sweep of her face before turning toward the awaiting crowd and dropping my hand from the mic.
A Waves staff member sets orange Gatorade bottles in front of us while another person repositions the second microphone so Kenzie and I each have our own.
Once they both step out of the shot, I set the smile on my face that won me the moniker “Friendliest Guy in Baseball” early in my career.
“I know you’re all here because I threw out Wade Hensley trying to steal second and for no other reason.”
The group chuckles, and I feel some of the tension leaving Kenzie’s body.
I give her leg a little squeeze and continue, “I’m always open to questions, you know that, but I expect everyone to be respectful tonight. As you know, it’s my job to protect the plate, but it’s also my job to protect her.”
Murmurs go through the group at the thinly veiled threat. Their confusion is warranted. I’ve never been anything but abundantly cordial over the last fifteen years. Though I tried to land the end of that second sentence softly, it came out with a gritty bite.
Dana Whitmore raises her hand, and I nod to her. “Who exactly is she?”
I glance at Kenzie, letting my emotions free in public for the first time. No masking. No keeping everything bottled up. There’s no doubt that every camera is catching the hearts in my eyes.
“This is Kenzie Rogers. My girlfriend.”
Kenzie smiles back at me, her fingers sliding over mine beneath the table.
Questions pepper us from all directions.
“When did you start dating?”
“How’d you meet?”
“Why did you come to the game dressed as an old man?”
“Kenzie Rogers? Aren’t you Aaron Lawson’s former fiancée?”
“Didn’t you jump off the dugout at the season opener?”
A flush pinks Kenzie’s cheeks, and while I usually love that slight blush, it’s making me reconsider doing this without a plan in place. I should make our excuses, tug her from the room, and let the Waves media team handle this tomorrow.
“May I?” she murmurs in my direction.
I give her another supportive squeeze before Kenzie leans into the mic.
“It must be confusing, considering how I’m dressed, and the fact that I did fall off the dugout into Trevor’s arms months ago.” A grin curves her mouth as she glances at me. “Still one of your best catches.”
The smile overtaking my face almost hurts my cheeks.
Kenzie’s focus returns to our audience. “Clearly, I’m not what you’d envision as a pro-baseball player’s girlfriend. For one, I’m an accountant. I prefer to stay home and garden than be in the limelight. Up until recently, my best friend was a cat. The truth is…”
Her face grows serious as she pauses just long enough for my stomach to pitch. “I am Iron Man.”
When the group gives each other puzzled looks, Kenzie laughs into the mic.
“I’m sorry.” She waves her hand in front of her face, unable to contain her mirth as giggles flow out of her. “I couldn’t help myself. This is too close to the press conference scene at the end of that movie.”
This time, I don’t stop myself from kissing her temple.
The way Kenzie grins up at me makes me want to tell her I love her, right in front of everyone in this room and the thousands of people watching this on live-stream. I tuck a wayward strand behind her ear instead.
We spend the next few minutes fielding questions as the reporters grow even more enamored with Kenzie.
When one of the reporters admits he also loves Marvel movies and understood her Iron Man reference, she ends up rambling about her crush on Paul Rudd, only stopping to apologize to me, as if I’d be offended.
I’m not. Plus, there’s nothing better than when Kenzie rambles. It’s my favorite thing.
By the time we wrap it up, they’re eating from the palm of her hand.
Her response to the question of why she jumped on the dugout—an adorable shrug paired with “Alien baby infestation?”—had the room rolling in laughter.
Kenzie’s admission that we met when she started taking care of Banks leads reporters to reference the video I made for Fur-Ever Homes.
Kenzie makes a quick request for anyone watching to help with Princess’s adoption by sharing the video.
When asked about her appearance, she makes up a story about wanting to really surprise me after the game, and that’s why she’d dressed in costume.
“Next time, I’ll be sure to come as myself.” Kenzie directs this toward Patrick, and a ribbon of pride weaves through my ribs at her boldness.
My manager nods, the corner of his lip twitching. I don’t care who I have to talk to or what hoops I have to jump through, I’m getting Kenzie off that banned list.
“One last thing,” Dana says, “you never addressed your former relationship with Waves pitcher Aaron Lawson.”
I lean in close, murmuring, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s okay,” she whispers before facing the room. “Have you ever chosen something because it was in front of you instead of listening to your gut? You foolishly make the wrong choice, blatantly disregarding the warning signs?”
Several reporters nod along.
Kenzie pauses, almost as if she’s deciding how much to reveal. “I’m sure there’s someone perfect for Aaron out there. It’s just not me.”
Before anyone else can offer a follow-up question, I say, “As nice as it was chatting with you all, I’d love to get a shower. I don’t know how Kenzie hasn’t passed out from my stink already.”
Gamely, Kenzie waves a hand in front of her nose, and everyone chuckles.
Once we’re back in the hallway, I say, “I’ll need to do a lot more than shower before I can leave, but will you wait?”
Kenzie wraps her arms around my neck with a growing smile. “With how long you waited for me? It’s the least I can do.”
I bring our foreheads together, allowing all the stress of the day to melt away. “You were amazing in there. It took me a year to get that comfortable in front of the cameras.”
“I credit the alien babies.”
When I chuckle, Kenzie pulls back. “I don’t really understand it, but it’s like I knew it would be okay because you were there. Everything is always okay when you’re there.”
My heart practically vaults from my body as a shaky exhale leaves me speechless.
Kenzie’s affectionate gaze sweeps my face before she rises on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek. “Go shower. You really do stink.”
I’m laughing again as I watch Kenzie toss a flirty smirk over her shoulder before following a staff member toward an unoccupied office. In the three seconds I allow myself to watch her leave, I make a decision. The minute we leave this ballpark, I’m telling Kenzie what she means to me.