The Trade(24)

Does it make me a complete asshole wishing that I wasn’t reading the situation wrong and that there really was something special blooming between us?

Probably.

Maddox’s voice rings in my head, the bastard’s statement making me feel physically ill every time it repeats itself.

The last thing you should want is an affair splashed across the papers.

Despite the strong desire to talk to Natalie, I’d never consider having an affair with a married woman. It’s not in my blood. Not to mention after reading today’s article, the last thing I need is for my name to be associated with an affair.

Pot(ter) calling the kettle black? Old footage of Cory Potter reaming our very own Rebels has surfaced. Disgusting. Dirty. Cheater. All flagrant words to describe his teammates. Is this the reason he wasn’t standing up for his team when there was a brawl on the field this past season? Is this why he had the lowest second-half batting average of his career? Makes you question, is he not hitting on purpose? Does he still think the same way about our beloved black and red?

Breaking through my thoughts, Milly asks, “What’s going on? You’re never like this. Your swing is lacking pop, your shoulder is dipping every other swing as if you’re exhausted, and there’s no power twisting through your core. This is not the Cory I molded.”

Giving in, I drop my bat and grip the back of my neck, frustration swallowing me whole.

“I can’t get her out of my head, Mills.”

“Her?” Milly’s brow creases and then realization sets in. “Natalie?”

I nod. “Yeah. I’m fucking losing my mind. I saw her the other day at the Rebels event and I swear, it was as if the room was pulling us together. I tried to stay away, I told myself to keep talking to my teammates, but the more the night progressed, the more I felt the need to go to her, at least just say hi so I could catch a small glimpse of her smile.”

“Cory . . .”

“I know.” I lower my body to the ground, where I stretch out my long legs along the turf and lean against my hands behind me so I’m propped up, in position to watch Milly’s reaction. “It’s really fucking bad. But it’s all I can focus on.” I shake my head. “I don’t know. I need to clear my head. Remove myself from the situation and take a deep breath.”

Milly takes a seat on the bucket and tosses a ball in front of her, her lips twisted to the side.

“Why don’t you come to St. Croix with us?”

“What?” I ask, unaware Milly was going to St. Croix.

“The boys like to go on vacation right before the season starts, a way to get in one more relaxing moment before they’re required to report to spring training. This year, they picked St. Croix. We leave in two weeks. You should come. It would be the perfect time for you to relax and forget about everything.”

“Who’s going with you?” I ask, the idea of hanging out on a beach before spring training sounds incredibly appealing, especially since I feel like I’m living in purgatory, Natalie always on my mind.

“Knox and Emory. Jason and Dottie. And then I think their friend Holt was supposed to come, but his wife is ready to pop with their second baby, so they had to cancel, leaving a room open. I’m sure they’d love to have you come along.”

I mull it over. “Is this some couple’s bullshit thing? Being the third wheel isn’t going to make me feel better.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “No. It’s nothing like that. It’s literally us relaxing, drinking, swimming, and having fun. The past few I’ve been on have been super chill. The more I think about it, the more I know it will help you clear your head.”

“I’ve never been to St. Croix,” I say, knowing what my answer will be.

“It’s a tropical paradise, has bright blue water to swim in, and some breathtaking snorkeling locations . . . at least, so I’ve heard. We’re staying at the best resort on the island, and it’s right on the water. We have boat tours planned, sunset sails, massages, and lots and lots of drinking in our near future.”

Smiling, I say, “You had me at snorkeling.”

Returning the smile, Milly stands and waves at me to do the same. “Now that your head is clear, let’s get back to work. You owe me a bucket of solid hits. No way are we leaving this batting cage with the half-assed effort you’ve given me.”

I pick up my bat and get into position, thankful that Coach Milly is back, ready to whip me into form. She’s compassionate, a good listener, and a damn good—tough—coach. I wouldn’t expect anything else from my little sister.





Chapter Seven





CORY





“I’m excited you’re coming with us,” Carson says as we make our way to our gate. “Jason’s going to freak when he sees you.”

“You didn’t tell them?”

Carson shakes his head, his hand clutched tightly to my sister’s hand. “Nah, thought it would be better to see Jason’s reaction in person. I’ve never seen a grown man outwardly weep over another grown man like Jason does when you’re around. He said one of the things that eased his mind about being traded to the Rebels was that you were on the team. He idolizes you, man.”

“As if you don’t,” Milly snorts next to him.