The Trade(107)

“What? No.” He shakes his head and brings my hand to his lips where he kisses my knuckles. “They can’t do that. I’m not really sure what’s going to happen. I got an email from Gregory before I walked in here; I have to head in early tomorrow to talk about it.”

Still feeling nervous, I say, “I really hope I didn’t ruin us.” I flip his hand over and draw light circles on his palm. “When I first started talking to you, I never thought you’d be interested in me, let alone want to date me. I didn’t even think I was ready for a serious relationship, but you proved me wrong and I’d feel so awful if I ruined everything by being careless.”

“You didn’t. I promise,” he says, cupping my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There’s a knock at the door and Cory stands from the couch but presses a quick kiss to my lips before grabbing the room service. While he makes small talk with the staff, I pull my legs in tight to my chest and look out at the window that overlooks the city. I hear what Cory is telling me, I can see it in his touch and words, but there’s something in the back of my head that keeps bothering me, something I can’t quite place. And for some reason, I think it’s going to hurt me as well.





Chapter Twenty-Five





CORY





I can’t fucking sleep, not with my stomach churning with uncertainty while Natalie is curled up into my chest, clinging to every inch of skin she can.

I can feel it, deep in my bones. I’m going to let her down.

With every breath she takes, every drawn-out inhale and exhale, it feels like the air filling my lungs gets smaller. My chest constricts and a light sheen of sweat coats my upper lip as I think about tomorrow.

That article . . . fuck. It’s way worse than I let on.

The small steps of progress I made with the team, yeah, fucking vanished in an instant. I could see them all recoil when the article came out. I saw the way they looked at me. It’s not that they think I’m a traitor, but it’s the fact that I wasn’t thinking. That I’ve made this team a laughing stock when they want to be taken seriously.

Here he is, the big contract of the year, playing first base for the Rebels and his girlfriend is wearing a goddamn Bobbies shirt.

It’s insulting to them, to the organization, and to the fans.

Management is livid. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Coach Gordan’s face so red. The front office is scrambling, and that’s why I have to go in early tomorrow. And the guys, well, fuck, even Marcus gave me a side-eye with uncertainty.

I don’t fucking blame any of them though.

The only person talking to me at this point is Jason, but he’s not the one I need to win over; he’s not the one I need on my side. I need my infield teammates on my side the most. They say the pitcher and the catcher are the unit on the field—well, I’m at the fucking helm. My players need to trust in the fact that if they make a stellar play, they can count on me to catch the ball at first and do everything humanly possible to guarantee that out. How can they possibly trust I’m going to do my job on the field if they can’t trust me off the field?

It’s impossible, which will only lead to shitty play and another piss-poor season.

I don’t want that. I can’t have that. Not after being traded. I want to prove something to Baltimore, have them know it was a huge mistake letting me go, and then prove to the Rebels fans that even though I was a Bobbie for life growing up, I’m now a Rebel at heart.

But at what price?

I roll out of bed and order more room service while Natalie is still sleeping. Sipping coffee I brewed in the kitchenette, I lean against the counter and take her in from afar. Naked and beautifully draped in a white comforter, she looks picturesque with the sun only just peeking through the window. Her caramel-colored hair touches her bare shoulder and is slightly wild from my fingers running through it a few times last night. I can still hear her moans, feel the way her pussy clenched around my cock, begging for more. I can smell her sweet scent on my upper lip. I didn’t want her to visit, but fuck, having her here, feeling her, it made the stress, the anxiety temporarily fade away.

But now that it’s a new day, the anxiety has returned to the forefront of my mind. And I have to face it. Find a solution.

There’s a knock at the door and I quickly pull the food cart inside the room, keeping the door closed for the most part so Natalie isn’t exposed. I tip the staff member and then send him on his way. When I wheel the cart in farther, Natalie stretches her arms over her head and then opens her beautiful eyes to spot me. Giving me that devastating smile, she flops her head back on the pillow, hair scattering everywhere and says, “Good morning.”

“Morning, beautiful.” I climb onto the bed and bury my head into the crook of her neck, giving her a hug and sinking into her warmth. Fuck, I want to stay here forever. I don’t want to face the crushing reality outside that door. “I ordered you some food. I would love to stay and eat with you, but I have a meeting I have to get to before practice.”

She sits up, holding the blanket across her breasts while she rubs her eyes. “You should have woken me up. I could have spent more time with you.”

“I wore you out,” I say, kissing her nose and pulling away. “You needed some sleep.” I notice the beard burn across her chest and wince. I scratch the side of my jaw and say, “Are you sure you don’t mind my scruff marking your skin like that?”