Page 24 of Fastlander Fighter

Okay, Sloane. She wasn’t avoiding a pop-off because she was submissive. Sloane dragged her fiery gaze back to the game and cracked her knuckles like he remembered she used to when they were young. It wasn’t a nervous habit, but one that appeared out of frustration.

Feisty. He liked that in a woman. In fact, he thought it was downright sexy.

She was holding her own right on the outskirts of the Asshole Squad, and she wasn’t looking to him to come save her, which said two things. One, she’d been up against the fence for a while and was used to facing off on her own, and two, she didn’t need him like that.

That thought stirred up something confusing inside of him, but before he could explore it, the umpire blew his whistle and called the game.

Captain strode straight for the open gate on the fence near the dugout, needing to get to Sloane.

“Hey, Cap!” Ruger called.

When Captain turned around, Ruger threw his glove up into the air and tried to catch it. Missed. His scramble to retrieve the glove drew a surprised chuckle from Captain. Kid was kinda funny.

“Go on, pay attention to Coach,” he said, gesturing to where the coach was gathering the kids for a post-game talk.

“Okay! Don’t leave!” Ruger took off, his little legs motoring ninety to nothing toward his team.

He pursed his lips against a smile and shook his head as he readjusted his ball cap and made his way off the field.

Sloane was waiting for him right by the gate, her hands clasped around the strap of her purse and a slight frown on her pretty face. Her dark hair was pulled into a curled ponytail today, and she wore a skintight, strappy red tank top that showed off her gorgeous curves. She looked so damn pretty in the sunset light, but that frown drew a snarl up his throat. What was his problem?

“You good?” he asked.

“Um, Ryan said he wants to talk to us after the game.”

“Mmm, did you tell him he’ll be late to happy hour if he wastes his time chirping at us?”

The frown softened, and she huffed a soft laugh. “He’s a lot. I’m sorry. He thinks we’re dating, but I tried to explain we’re just old friends. He doesn’t like the idea of me moving on, and so he gets overbearing.”

Captain leaned his forearms on the fence and glared at Ryan, who was talking angrily to Naomi on the other side of the bleachers. Probably playing the victim somehow. He knew men like Ryan. Captain wasn’t impressed.

“I’ll handle it if you want to get Ruger loaded up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to deal with it. It’s not your job.”

“I don’t mind. I can make him understand we’re just friends.” Lie. He was lying to her, but she was human. Humans were easy to lie to.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at him with those gorgeous ocean-blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault, Middleson. I live in a Crew of monsters. Your ex is a jealous rat. This doesn’t bother me at all.”

She huffed a relieved sound, cocked her head, and pursed her lips as she looked up at him. “I think you’re pretty great.”

That was the moment he lost all control of his poker face. She thought he was great? His heart pounded like a drum against his chest cavity. She was so fuckin’ pretty, her smile all soft and truth in her voice as she complimented him.

Ooooh she might be a human, but she was the dangerous kind.

He cleared his throat and forced his attention back to the team meeting. “You’ll get over that feeling.”

Sloane went quiet beside him, and from his peripheral he could see her clutch the strap of her cross-body purse tighter.

Ryan was heading this way, and with a sigh, Captain pushed off the fence. “Ruger did good tonight.” That was his goodbye as he made his way to head off Douche-Bucket.

“Thank you for coming out,” Sloane said softly. “I mean for Ruger. You made him really happy tonight. I appreciate it.”

Captain turned and offered a small wave. “See you around, Middleson.” Yep, using her last name was his way of creating distance so he could figure out his roiling feelings.

She was pretty, and interesting, and Ruger was a breath of fresh air to be around, but Sloane was right. This—talking to Ryan about being in her life—wasn’t his job.

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