Page 26 of Wild Pitch

I’m not even going to entertain his comment about Monroe. So what if they all think I’m whipped? I know I’m not. I probably won’t even text her when I get back tonight.

I’m a fucking liar. I’m definitely texting her. I want to hear about her day.

I didn’t get nearly enough time with her after we had sex in the outdoor shower. We went back inside like it was just a regular day, chilled on the sofa, and I brought her to my bedwhen she fell asleep in the middle of the movie she chose. Next thing I knew, I was out the door again. This job makes it impossible to nurture any type of a new relationship, which is just another reason I don’t bother with them. How can I learn enough about a person to know whether they like me for me, when I can’t even spend more than a day at a time with them? It’s hard to know who’s genuine and trustworthy, and who’s just playing you because they want money or notoriety. So, I’ve leaned into that. Embracing that reality has been the easiest way to avoid getting hurt or hurting anyone else.

But with her? Things are different. I can’t deny that anymore.

I don’t know what Monroe is thinking about what happened between us, but I can’t stop wondering if she’d be open to seeing where this thing could go. I’m not saying I’m ready to wife her up, but I also know that my feelings toward her have shifted since she’s been here, and I feel like hers have done the same.

An hour later, the boys and I walk through the doors that lead to the hotel bar. As usual, we’re swarmed by women that are dressed to the nines for a night out. I’m thankful that we aren’t in Daytona, because at least here, we aren’t as much of a hot commodity. But nonetheless, it only takes about three minutes before an attractive blonde sits on the empty barstool next to me.

“You looked kind of lonely over here,” she says, prompting me to smile politely. I immediately notice all the ways sheisn’tMonroe. Her golden hair is cut into a long bob with blunt edges. Her hazel eyes have flecks of green, but I couldn’t see myself falling into them like the deep blue pools that have captivated me on more than oneoccasion. Her lips are pink and full, but the thought of kissing them makes me sick to my stomach. Not because she isn’t gorgeous—because she is.

But she’s not Monroe.

Ace was right. I’m down bad.

“Is that right?” I answer. “I figured I’d stop in a for a few minutes before I hit my room.”

She turns in her seat, crossing one leg over the other before tilting her head. “Well, I’m glad you did. I spotted you when you walked in and just had to come introduce myself. I’m Chloe.” She extends a manicured hand my way, and I quickly shake it before busying myself by pulling the label from my bottle of beer.

“Riggs,” I offer. She already knows who I am. I can tell. This happens all the time. Girls pretend like our meeting is just some random run-in, then act surprised when I tell them what I do for work. I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing when I’m being bamboozled. It doesn’t exactly feel great, but I’ve continued to benefit from it by fucking around with them, so I can’t blame the women for doing it.

“What brings you to Philly, Riggs?” she asks, brushing my calf with the toe of her stiletto. The gesture would normally be the green light I need to know that we’re on for a night of fun, but instead, I jolt out of my seat in an attempt to get away from it.

“I uhhhh,” I fumble, trying to think of an excuse, because I need to get out of here without hurting her feelings. In an act of quick thinking, I stuff my hand into my pocket, fishing out my phone and waving it in the air. “I have to take this call!” I yell triumphantly.

“It’s not even ringing,” she says, raising a dubious brow.

Fuck.

“It’s on vibrate,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. I pretend to press a button before bringing it to my ear. “Hello?” I say to absolutely nobody before turning back to Chloe. “It was nice meeting you. Have a great night.” I don’t even give her a chance to reply before I’m hauling ass out to the lobby of the hotel.

As soon as I’m inside the elevator, I breathe a sigh of relief, letting my tense shoulders sag as I ride up to my floor. I try not to think about the physical reaction I had to being touched by a woman who isn’t Monroe, because I don’t want to sort through the reality that maybe I’m further gone for her than I thought. I’d like to say it’s just the way our kinks line up, resulting in mind-blowing sex, but since that kiss at the charity event, the thought of any other woman has affected me the same way. I don’t want them anymore.

I want her. In any way that she’ll have me.

Ifshe’ll have me.

I understand that there’s a lot about Monroe Decker that I don’t know. And to be honest, I get that, because my behavior hasn’t earned me the privilege of being trusted with her backstory. But I want it. I want to know why she hasn’t dated anyone since I’ve known her. Why she ran from me after refusing to give me any personal information in Boston. Why she got upset with me the night of the charity event when I didn’t compliment her…and why, minutes later, she morphed into the picture of positivity in front of my colleagues.

I’ve never been more frustrated by another person inmy life. And I’ve definitely never been more intrigued by one, either.

I want to know her. Like, reallyknow her.

I wave my key card over the lock, pushing my way into my room. The only thing I want to do right now is take a shower and text Monroe. I hope it’s not too late. I bet she’s snuggled up on the sofa, surrounded by snacks, with her website pulled up on her laptop and a movie playing in the background. I love how she’s made herself so comfortable in my space. Sometimes I forget that our relationship is fake, and she isn’t really a permanent fixture. Although, I don’t think either of us can deny that it’s feeling more real by the second, whether we expected it to or not.

I shower quickly, dry off, and throw on a pair of black boxer briefs before sliding into bed with my phone in hand.

RIGGS:

How was your day, Mayhem?

I send the message, toss my phone onto the mattress next to me, and stare at it for a few seconds before picking it right back up. I don’t know how this girl managed to turn me into a giddy teenager, but she did. When she doesn’t reply right away, my mind starts wandering until I can feel the panic and doubt slowly creeping in. While things didn’t seem awkward between us before I left, maybe she’s not responding because she’s had more time to think about it and doesn’t like what we did.

Fuck.What if she regrets it and it sends us right back to square one, where we can’t even be in the same room together without arguing?

Maybe I took it too far on the beach. Monroe is astrong, independent woman and I threw her over my shoulder and fucked her like a caveman because I couldn’t stop my possessive side from taking over. But when I saw her lying there topless where anyone could see, I lost control. I just wanted to mark her so that everyone knew she was mine…even though I’m not sure she wants to be.

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