The baseball stadium for the New Mexico Warriors is beautiful. Maybe it’s the rush of it being the team’s first game or my first time covering it, but I am quite literally bouncing around with energy as I get myself set up.
I prepare to record videos of the guys walking into the stadium and to ask them what their favorite song is. It’s been a hit online with other teams and should be a guaranteed viral video if the guys can come through like I know they can.
I’m still doing an article for the school paper, but I’m taking this position to another level if I want professional organizations to recognize me.
As I wait for the team to arrive, my mind drifts toward what’s coming after the game tonight.
I’ll be rooming with Ryker.
There’s no way I can stay with Mackenzie, because not only do we not know each other well enough for me to be comfortable around her, but because of my nightmares. I’d hate to wake her up with my screams and be forced to explain what happened.
It’s embarrassing. It was a long time ago, and I should be over it. I shouldn’t still be afraid of something that didn’t happen.
However, if I’m going to spend the night with someone, I want it to be Ryker. He makes me feel protected whenever I’m near him.
Even though I told him to stop messing with my head earlier, which, for the record, shocked the hell out of me. But I’m done. I can’t do the back and forth anymore, not when I have feelings for him. It’s like giving him permission to play with my heart and then put it back together whenever he pleases.
I finally spot the team bus pulling up to the curb and jump up excitedly, going to my phone to start the video.
Noah’s the first one off the bus, smiling in my direction when he sees the tripod set up.
“Captain Noah of the Rockland Coyotes’ baseball team, what is your favorite song?” I ask him, using the clear and graceful tone I was raised to speak in. I’ll admit, it’s come in handy when working in PR.
Noah tilts his head to the side in thought, then snaps his fingers. “‘Jumpman’ by Drake and Future gets me pumped up every time.”
I give him a thumbs-up, letting him know he can keep walking. Next up is Cuddy, who is a natural in front of the camera. He lowers his sunglasses and winks.
“My favorite song,” he starts, tapping his chin in thought. “I’m an open Swiftie, so I gotta go with ‘Style’, Taylor’s version, of course. A fucking banger.”
I giggle while giving him a thumbs-up, and he blows the camera a kiss before strutting on by. Ryker is next and he steals the breath out of my lungs. He’s in shorts, revealing tattoos on his legs I hadn’t seen before—one on his calf and the other on his thigh. My mouth waters and I drag my eyes up his body, noting how his gray T-shirt clings to his muscles, showing off the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm.
To top it off, his hair is in a half-up, half-down style that only he can pull off.
I wave him over, and he scowls as he approaches me, knowing he can’t escape this.
“What’s your favorite song, third baseman, Ryker Lewis?”
Ryker taps something on his phone, then takes off his headphones. His eyes drag up and down my body as if he forgot he was on camera.
I’m wearing a team jersey that Coach gave me on top of jean overalls with cut-off shorts and my Converse. I could never wear something like this back home, and it makes me love wearing it that much more.
“Whose jersey are you wearing?” he asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
I scrunch my nose at him and turn to show him the back with my first name on it. “My own.”
Ryker just grunts in response, but I don’t miss the hint of relief in his eyes.
“Favorite song, Ryker the biker?” I remind him.
That earns me a glare, but I’ve come to like them. I sort of enjoy bugging him, and I want to see him crack.
“‘Part of Your World’.”
“Like…as in from The Little Mermaid?” I ask, perplexed. That is not what I thought he would say. At all.
He shrugs, seeming not to care. “I like it.”
My mouth hangs open, speechless, as I stare at this man who gives off bad boy vibes like no tomorrow, yet his favorite song is from a Disney movie.