9. Chapter 9
“What’s going on with them?” Jess whispers, tipping her chin across the room to where Max is standing at the bar with that reporter, Sienna. Standing a polite distance from one another, they are both holding drinks, clearly talking but not looking at each other.
“What do you mean?”
She squints. “I don’t know, but there’s definitely something weird going on.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because Max completely lost his game the second she showed up on the course.”
“Oh?” That piques my interest, since JB mentioned something earlier, but I don’t have enough information to tell Jess and feed her inner gossip bloodhound. “What happened?”
“She showed up on the ninth hole, and the second Max saw her, he tripped over his own feet. Considering he's built like a giraffe, that's a long way to fall. His swing was a mess after that.”
“And that’s what you’re blaming coming third on?”
She nods.
I laugh, shaking my head. “You came third because Austin can take direction and plant his legs in the right position.”
She scoffs. “Oh, please. This has nothing to do with Austin’s thighs and everything to do with my partner getting tongue-tied over a bespectacled reporter.”
“It’s okay to admit defeat, Jess. It’s a ProAm. It’s not that important.” As the words leave my mouth, I realize what a hypocrite I’m being. I literally let my partner finger me to make sure we won.
Jess rolls her eyes. “Easy for you to say. Hooking up with your partner sure helped your competitive edge.”
“Jess,” I warn, brushing against JB slightly as I sit back. He’s beside me, completely unaware of our conversation because he’s too busy talking to Austin about how rats laugh when they’re tickled. He gestures so broadly with his fork that he nearly takes out a candle. Not that he notices.
I smile, watching this man who seemingly has boundless enthusiasm for anything.
“—they can also be trained to play hide-and-seek. Apparently they enjoy it—” JB continues.
She knocks me with her elbow, drawing my attention back to her. “I'm just saying, it probably helped.”
“JB.” Max passes a beer to each of the players, then takes a seat next to Austin. Sienna is still at the bar, watching him.
Interesting.
“Are you guys talking about rats again?” he asks.
“Maybe,” Austin says.
“How many times do I have to tell you, JB, nobody wants to hear this.”
JB takes his friend in with a mock snarl. “Did you know rats will free trapped friends before eating chocolate? That’s the kind of loyalty I expect from a teammate, but I keep getting disappointed.”
Max barks out a laugh. “Oh, please. You really think your teammates have a problem with loyalty? After Tate took the L for you so you could meet your caddy crush?”
Caddy crush?
Max’s eyes connect with mine for just a second before he glances back at JB.
“I wanted to hear more about the rats,” Austin interjects. “Did you say that rats can make their eyes vibrate?”
“Only when they are happy,” JB mutters.
Just as Max is about to respond, Sienna takes a seat next to him but makes no effort to greet us. Max glances at her sideways, clears his throat, and sits up a little straighter. Jess kicks my shin under the table. I kick her right back.
Seemingly aware of the tension, JB’s demeanor changes.
“Hey, Max. You ready for tomorrow?” he asks, diverting attention away from Sienna.
Max takes a sip of his beer and nods. “I am, but I'm not playing until Wednesday.”
“Good point.”
Without warning, I feel JB's hand slide over mine, and I let him take it, holding back a smile. His fingers interlock with mine just as his thumb starts to move in a slow, small circle on the back of my hand, and my heart flutters.
“Do you still have to travel with them even though you aren't in the rotation for that series?” Jess asks.
“Yup. You never know if the starting lineup might change,” Max answers.
“Wait, so you have to sit in the dugout for four hours and do nothing?” She falls back onto her chair and blows out a breath. “That's brutal.”
Max shrugs, and for a split second his eyes go back to Sienna. “The dugout’s not that bad. I study the players, their stances, their reactions to pitches, and I think about what I would be doing if I were on the mound. It’s my job.”
“Where are you guys off to this week?”
“Mhm. We’re heading to Cincy tomorrow. After that, we’ve got New York, then Seattle. Later in the month it’s Houston, Denver, and Phoenix.”
“Sounds familiar,” I say.
Because of the tour, I’m only here for another two weeks. Wyndham is our next stop. Then I’m in Tennessee the week after. Missouri after that, then Oregon... Our schedules don’t intersect at all, and before this morning, I would’ve been okay with that.
Now, as JB’s thumb strokes my palm, I’m not so sure.
Whatever is going on between us has no chance of lasting past this weekend, and that thought... well, it's not something I want to think about because for the first time in my life, I want something I don’t think I can control.
I pull my hand away gently, folding my napkin as an excuse as I try to gain some composure.
“You okay?” JB asks quietly.
I give him a small smile because that’s all I can muster at the moment.
As the music starts, players, managers, and guests start to fill the dance floor, but I don’t move.
Max holds his hand out to Jess. “Wanna dance, partner?” he asks.
Jess looks between him and Sienna, who’s currently pretending she’s busy looking at something on her phone.
“Nah,” Jess says before holding her hand out to Austin. “I’d rather dance with the rookie instead.”
Austin nearly falls out of his chair in surprise. “Me?” His eyes dart around the room as he points a thumb at himself.
“Yeah, you.” Jess gets up and makes her way around the table. As Austin stands, she threads her hand through his arm and leads him to the dance floor. “Now, if I wanted to get a shelf like yours, what kind of squat routine am I looking at?”
Once they are out of earshot, Max elbows Sienna and offers her a sly smile. “Wanna dance, Specs?”
Specs?
When did he give her that nickname?
It takes her a second to respond, but she accepts his hand nonetheless, and they head off onto the dance floor too.
That just leaves JB and me.
“Dance with me,” he says, pushing his chair back and holding his hand out with an exaggerated, almost comical bow.
I can’t say no. I don’t want to either.
So I put my hand in his, ignoring the ache radiating in my chest.
He leans in as he walks me to the dance floor. “I didn’t get to tell you the best rat fact.”
“You didn’t?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Did you know that rats sleep in cuddle piles? They’ll often choose to sleep pressed against their favorite companion rather than be alone.”
“Oh.”
“Wanna be my favorite companion?” he asks.
How? How can he be so easy and breezy about everything?
When he’s found us a spot on the dance floor, his hands land on my hips, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer.
“What’s wrong, Coach?”
“Nothing.”
He takes his hand from my waist and places a finger under my chin, tipping it up so I look at him.
“Mhm. Then why do you have the same facial expression as Larry when I tell him there are no more hot dogs left?”
I huff out a breath and mutter, “You make everything sound so simple.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No,” I stress.
His brow furrows, and for the first time since I’ve met him, he’s quiet, silently waiting for me to explain myself.
“You’re leaving for Cincinnati tomorrow.”
“And?”
“And then you're heading to New York. I'll be in Missouri by the time you're back, which means...”
I don't finish the sentence. Mainly because I don't know how to, but I also don't want to admit that somehow I might've fallen for a guy I've only known for three days. A catcher for my dad’s favorite baseball team, no less.
JB's grin grows wide, and he pulls me closer, so our bodies are touching.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Tell me you want me without telling me you want me.”
I groan, rolling my eyes, and when I try to push him away, he doesn’t let me. He just holds us in place, so we sway to the music.
“I want you too, Whit,” he husks out. “I have since Larry told me you were competing in this ProAm last month. Probably longer, if I’m being truly honest with myself.”
He pulls back enough so our lips are inches apart. His eyes drop to my mouth and he leans down just an inch.
My breath catches as I keep my gaze on his lips.
I want him.
He leans a little closer, and right before our lips connect, I step back half an inch.
I can’t do it. I can’t let everyone see this.
“Whit.”
I shake my head.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
I can’t let myself want you. I can’t let everyone see how much. I can’t let myself believe that this could be more than a weekend.
“I just can’t, okay?”
JB’s jaw flexes as his eyes move over my shoulder to the people around us. Jess... Austin... Sienna... Max...
“Oh.” His face softens, and my chest tightens because I know he’s somehow figured it all out.
I close my eyes, not wanting to confirm it.
I feel him lean down, just close enough so only I can hear him.
“Come with me,” he says as he takes my hand.
I’m almost tripping on my own feet as he weaves me through the people, but I don’t question it. I just follow him.
He finds a quiet hallway and then pushes through a service door before pulling me through behind him. The second the door swings shut, he moves me back against a wall, and his mouth is on mine.
With a hand on my jaw, he tilts me back, kissing me as though he owns me.
At this point he just might.
The way he takes control makes me so hot.
With one hand grasping his jacket, I slide my other hand around his neck and pull him closer, so his thigh is pressed between my legs.
The second I feel him, I shamelessly rub against him, needing the friction. He answers with a growl and presses his hard length against me.
I want him so badly.
“JB.” His name is all I manage to get out as his lips close against mine.