Chapter 8
Maren
The music blares through the speakers, the bass vibrates though my ribs, syncing with my pulse. I’m not quite sure how to describe it, but seeing something I created from scratch—a figment of my imagination coming to life under the lights on the field—it’s unbelievable.
When Jax and Oscar appeared on the tandem bike, I couldn’t help but chuckle alongside the pride I was feeling.
The crowd went wild, and as silly as the idea felt when I first read the email, it means something bigger here.
It’s a break from the world around us, permission to tap into simple pleasure, be a little less serious, and just have fun.
Each beat in my chest felt like a drumroll, kicking against my ribs, as if the stadium itself was announcing my moment.
As big of an asshole as Oscar has been, he really turned out for the fans.
And not that I want to be looking, but the sight of him shirtless with a light sheen of sweat covering his inked skin is also indescribable, and quite enjoyable.
His muscles flex and my mouth falls open, and when I force my eyes to move away, they’re met with his eyes from across the field.
He smirks, and the silent conversation we are having heats my insides.
Each movement he makes as he pumps his fists in the air on the back of the bike while he moves his lips to the fast beat makes my insides flutter.
He is undeniably sexy, with his dark beard and bright green eyes you can see from across the field, so I can’t look away.
When the music ends and the lights come back on, Jax throws the first pitch of the inning and the sound of the ball hitting the glove thunders through my heart, causing a tear to fall from my eye.
Because I choreographed this inning, I have the distinct honor of watching it from right outside the dugout on the side of the field—me and Orbit—and it is a life changing moment that I will remember forever.
I anxiously waited for the bottom of the inning and watched the other candidate, Lilly’s routine. Like me, she was tasked with a walk up. Her routine was Rikki’s walk up to the catcher’s box and had to include the dancing Umpire.
Not gonna lie, I was a little jealous she got to work with the Ump. His energy is next level, and feels like a slight advantage.
“Manchild” by Sabrina Carpenter fills the speakers, and the roar of the crowd is deafening.
Again the lights go out but instead of the field being lit by cell phone lights, it’s illuminated by giant sparklers lining the field.
Rikki emerges from the dugout mouthing the words “oh boy,” as he sways his hips and walks with swagger to the plate holding a pitcher of water that he dumps all over himself and shakes his head adding to the dramatics.
When he approaches the plate, the Umpire turns and shakes his ass at the crowd, and when Rikki takes his position, the Ump takes his hair in his fist and they mimic the pose from the album cover winking at the crowd.
Again applause fills the air, but not as loud this time. It was funny, but a little too on point, and not as family friendly as they usually aim for.
I look over and see the smile on Lilly’s face fade slightly and based on her expression, I can tell this played out differently under the lights than she planned. A hint of regret and embarrassment flickers in her eyes.
I feel bad for her as I make my way back through the tunnel to the room they secured for us.
Thankfully the room is empty, because the second my hand hits the knob to open the door my phone rings with a FaceTime from Sadie.
“Holy shit, you just killed that. I know you were nervous, but I’m not going to lie, there is no fucking way you are not being offered the job.” Her smile is so big it makes my cheeks hurt.
“Yeah, it felt good. They’re going to have a hard time making a decision.” I smile at her.
“You don’t always have to be so humble, Mare, you know you have this in the bag… we all do.”
“I know,” I said excitedly with a big grin.
“Congrats!” she says just as the door opens and the owner, Horner Banks, walks in.
I don’t even tell her good bye, nerves have me hanging up on her before words can leave my mouth.
“Maren, you are an incredibly talented choreographer. The performance that you orchestrated was phenomenal,” he begins, but his tone is lacking the warmth and charisma he had in our previous conversations.
Games must wear him out… he spends most of the game on the field entertaining.
“Thank you, Horner.” I smile, but he doesn’t smile back.
“I’m going to cut to the chase, because it’s late and you probably want to get home.
” He sighs, and it makes my stomach turn.
There’s still a lot of the game left. I thought I’d hear from him tomorrow.
“Ozzie made it clear in a passing conversation today that there is brewing chemistry between you and Jax, and given our recent situation, we can’t afford another public spectacle. ”
“All due respect, I think you are mistaken. There is absolutely nothing brewing between Jax and I.” My words are assertive, but I can tell by his lack of expression that he doesn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth.
“It’s in the best interest of the Moonshots that we go in a different direction.”
That’s it, no apology, no attempt to soften the blow.
And the blow hits as directly as it was intended.
It felt like someone had knocked the air right out of my chest, leaving the silence of my absent words to linger.
This feeling deep inside me was a wild contrast to the exhilaration building there on the field.
“When you collect your things, Orbit can walk you out.” He smiles a half smile and closes the door behind him.
My heart falls.
The thought of being escorted out of the stadium by a man in an astronaut costume feels more humiliating than the encounter I just had.
Deciding not to wait around for Orbit, I grabbed my bag and keys and headed out the long corridor to the nearest elevator.
The seconds it takes for the doors to open feel like an eternity, and when they finally open, relief overcomes me, just to be replaced by a different thrum in my chest… anger.
The doors to the elevator part to reveal sweat covering every inch of Oscar’s face, rippled chest, and neck.
His tattoos are glistening. He is leaning against the back wall of the elevator with his hands propped up on the rail and a white towel hanging around his neck.
When the doors first open his eyes are on the ground, but quickly shift to me, and the vibrant green pierces my chest.
Why is he down here and not on the field?
“You did a really gre—” he begins, but I have absolutely no interest in whatever he has to say. He just cost me this job.
“Save it,” I scoff.
“What the fuck?” He sneers back, his demeanor quickly shifting.
“Let me save you the breath. Clearly, you have a problem with me. You’ve been an asshole all day, and whatever the hell you said to Horner cost me this job. Lucky for you, I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
I turn and head down the corridor to take the stairs instead and almost run right into Jax.
Why are they all coming down here? The game isn’t over.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, clearly concerned.
“Nothing. It’s just been a long day. I want to go home.”
“Why are you by yourself? Orbit usually escorts guest employees to the staff parking lot on a cart. The lights are not great out there.”
“I didn’t feel like waiting.” I shrug my shoulders and feel the defeat washing over me.
“Let’s go grab a cart. I’ll take you,” he offers, and I have absolutely no reason to object.
However, Jax’s offer has Oscar perking up.
He moves to the entry way of the elevator, and I hear the repeated sound of the beep from him holding the doors open as we turn the corner.
I didn’t look in his direction as we walked away, but I felt the fury of his stare long after we vanished from his line of sight.
“Tell Horner to extend the Mango Men intermission!” Jax yells at Oscar.
Great! Now I’m causing a scene.
I look back over my shoulder and see Orbit pulling around the corner in a golf cart, and feel relief.
“I’m good,” I say, gesturing in Orbit’s direction. “Enjoy the rest of the game.”
I offer Jax a weak smile and see Oscar in the background with a tortured look on his face.
Serves him right.