Page 36 of Hitting the Gap

Gonzo walked up and wrapped his arms around her. Bailey let out a little squeal as her feet left the ground.

“So what’d you think?” Gonzo asked as he set her back down on the ground.

“Eh, you played alright. I’ve seen better.”

“Better? I hit a home run and nearly pulled my groin, making that snag to take out Carmichael. That’s some fucking ESPN shit and you say alright,” he grumbled.

“ESPN shit,” she mumbled. “I’m pretty sure your ego doesn’t need me to boost it any further.”

“That hurts, Bay.” He slapped his hand on his chest. “The first time you’ve seen me play live in a couple years and I go all out to impress you, and this is what I get.”

“Yeah, it was all about impressing me.” Bailey snorted.

“Of course it was. Well, you and ESPN.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Catch of the day, baby.”

Bailey pushed him in the chest. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side. “Why would I?”

“No idea.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and tilted her head against his chest. She hadn’t realized until this moment just how much she’d missed him. Missed watching him play ball, missed his exuberance after the game, missed the way he hugged her when he was riding the high of winning. “I’ve missed watching you play,” she admitted.

“I’ve missed having you watch.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s nice having you here.”

At the feel of his arms tightening around her, Bailey’s stomach flipped. God, what was wrong with her? This was Gonzo. It was just nostalgia, not desire. But when he squeezed her hip and his hand lingered in a way that made her breath hitch, it sure felt like desire.

“Alright, you guys ready to get out of here?” Gonzo asked.

“Absolutely,” Pete replied. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter 10

Gonzo placed his hand against Bailey’s back and guided her into the bar. He scanned the room, looking for his teammates.

The place was wall to wall people like it was after every game. The owner was an ex-player, so he usually set aside a couple of tables for players. He paused as a server handed out shots to a group of twenty-something guys. With the shots delivered, she dropped her tray to her side and turned. “Oh hey, Gonz, Pete’s already here. They grabbed a table around the corner.”

“Thanks, Jenna,” He smiled at the server, then tried to guide Bailey forward only to be stopped by the group in front of him.

“Gon-za-lez,” shot-taker number one sang out his name.

People around them snapped to attention the way they always did when they realized a player was nearby.

Gonzo raised his arm and smacked the guy’s extended hand. The smack connected exactly right, making that perfect high-five sound he loved. Normally when he made the attempt, the other person shifted their hand and what resulted was an awkward bobble that was just embarrassing.

“Nice game,” the guy said.

“Thanks.”

“Let me buy you a shot.”

“Thanks, but I gotta go easy. We’ve got to head to LA for a game tomorrow.”

“Cool, yeah, of course.” The kid’s head bobbed up and down in agreement, then he turned to Bailey. “You want a shot?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Your boyfriend is fucking awesome.”

Bailey’s eyes widened. “He’s not my—”

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