The Trade(92)

Start a fucking Twitter fight? Really? That’s what’s going to win over these fans? Yeah, I won’t stoop that fucking low and that’s what I told Gregory. I will grow the goddamn scruff, but when it comes to winning over the fans, that will be with my bat and glove, not a fake attitude.

Respect the game, always.

“Hang in there,” Marcus says. “There’s already buzz among the players about your work ethic and the power they’re seeing coming off the bat. Once we’re in Florida, you’ll have more time to bond with the guys. You’ll be surprised how much team bonding we do. Things will turn around.”

I give him an appreciative smile and pick up my burger wrapped in lettuce. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Can I give you one word of advice though?”

“Sure, anything,” I say.

He nods at my burger. “Don’t eat that rabbit shit around the guys. You’ll be creamed, man.”

I laugh out loud and nod. “Got it.”





“Okay, why are you in such a good mood?” Natalie asks, as I sit down next to her on my couch. Without even giving it a second thought, she straddles my lap and starts playing with the hem of my shirt.

I asked her over tonight and told her to dress casually, which she did in a pair of leggings and a cropped hoodie. Her hair is wavy, just the way I love it, and her face is free of makeup, another way I like her. Her midriff has been visible all night and I swear she wore that crop top on purpose to drive me crazy. I’m about 80 percent positive she’s not wearing a bra under it. I’ve been dying to inch my hands under it to find out.

Placing my hands on her thighs, I say, “I think I made a friend this week.”

“A friend? Really?”

I nod. “Yeah. Marcus Gomez.”

“The third baseman? Isn’t he the family man of the team?”

I squeeze her side. “Look at you researching the Rebels.”

“Well”—she draws a circle over my stomach—“I have to know who my man is playing with.”

“Your man, I really like the sound of that.”

She leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips. “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yes, I am,” I answer. I’m leaning into the couch, completely relaxed as Natalie sits on my lap, wondering how I got this lucky.

“Tell me about your friend.”

“Not much to say. We went to lunch the other day, and now we’re training in the cages together. He’s really cool, down to earth, and has the same mentality as me when it comes to fighting on the field. He also told me the guys have been noticing me and the hard work I’m putting in. They’re appreciating it.”

“So the Rebels aren’t as dumb as I thought they were.” She winks and I laugh.

“Guess not.”

“Well, I’m really excited for you. That makes me happy that you have a friend. I was kind of worried since all of the press has been—”

I stiffen and say, “Have you been reading those articles?”

“I . . .” She bites her bottom lip. “I know you told me not to,” she says in a hurry, “but I need to know what they’re saying in case I need to help you.”

Anger boils inside me, but not because Natalie read the articles, but because she feels like she needs to worry about me. I don’t want her worrying. I want her confident that I can handle this, that I can handle whatever is thrown my way.

Smoothing my hands over her thighs, I say, “I appreciate you wanting to make sure I’m okay, it just shows that beautiful heart of yours, but please don’t read those articles, okay? They’re trash, made-up, and all they’re going to do is feed the worry you already have.” I bring my hand to the back of her neck and lower her forehead to mine. “I can handle it, okay?”

“I know, but you also don’t have to go at it alone either, Cory. That’s what I’m here for, someone you can lean on when things get tough. Don’t think you need to be strong around me all the time.”

But I do.

I’ve always been the strong one, the guy who takes on the worry for the family, for his friends, and I always find the solution. When my brothers were having a hard time starting their business, I helped them find solutions on how to make it better and cater to the right people. Now they have three facilities and are running one hell of a training brand. When Milly was doubtful about Carson, I mentally held her hand through the landmines of a relationship, even though I’d never really been in one before. I take on the challenges and I will continue to do that even with Natalie.

Instead of saying anything, I swipe my mouth across hers. I hear the slight intake of air before she moves her lips across mine, her hands falling to the hem of my shirt again. I could do this for hours, just this—her rubbing against my lap, hardening my cock with each pass, her lips glued to mine, her moans filling the silence of my apartment. To me, this is a slice of heaven.

“I’ve missed you, missed these lips,” she mumbles while kissing my jaw. “This scruff, it’s . . . sexy.”

It’s funny that she’s saying she missed me, because she saw me two days ago, but hey, I’m not going to complain. If she wants to miss me, by all means, let her miss me. “You like it?” I ask. “Doesn’t hurt your lips?”