Page 15 of Play the Field

“I have no idea, but I doubt she’ll be rude enough to interrupt you.” It was a guess. But I’d known Cat since elementary school and I knew her mother didn’t raise her to be rude. Even if she wasn’t the best to me at the end of our relationship, I knew she wasn’t a monster.

Standing from the bench, Bri nodded. “Consider it done. I’m not going to hug you goodbye so we avoid raising suspicions.” In a matter of seconds, Bri had transformed into a spy. And this was her most important mission.

She stepped out of the dugout, fixing the tuck of her jersey as she walked across the grass toward Cat. Waving, Bri tried to look friendly. They’d known each other in school, through me and a couple of seasons of Varsity softball. I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t totally unbelievable that Cat would be willing to have a random catch-up with Bri.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as Bri approached Cat. Even from here, I could see how awkward Cat felt. Her hand rubbed the back of her neck like she was still sore from her last game.

My chest tightened at the shit.Time to go.

Grabbing my bag, I said goodbye to the team and pulled the brim of my cap lower. I hadn’t bothered changing out of my cleats, instead letting the metal chock dig into the sand.

I lowered my gaze to the ground, knowing it was risky to meet her eyes. Taking off toward the parking lot, I could feel Bri resisting the urge to check on me. But even from the corner of my eye, I saw Cat stand from her place on the bleachers.

As politely as she could, she tried to brush past Bri. But the wall of muscle wouldn’t budge, redirecting to some other friendly chatter.

The sound of my cleats clicking against the old asphalt of the parking lot felt celebratory. There was no way Cat could catch up to me at this point.

Relief truly set in when my small Corolla was backing out of the lot and moving down the road toward town. Only then did I let myself look in the rearview where I could see the miniature-sized Bri and Cat still at the field.

But now, Bri’s hand held Cat’s shoulder. From this distance, it was impossible to tell where their conversation had led. Luckily, I knew Bri would fill me in on all the details later. I just needed to get home, shower, and open the shop.

The hot water felt incredible on my body, and a part of me thought I might never leave the old shower ever again.

Duty calls.I sighed as I turned off the water and stepped out of the tiled stall.

I’d hardly played at all this morning but my body felt tense from seeing Cat, like I’d played all nine innings without a break.

Once I was dry, I quickly threw on loose-fitting jeans and an oversized t-shirt. Tossing my hair into a loose top knot and leaving the other half down, I checked myself in the mirror. Business was about to slow as the end of the summer approached. So looking done up was becoming less and less of a concern.

Not that anyone really cared what the dorky bookstore owner looked like anyway.

I grabbed my tote bag, placing my laptop and my current read inside, before heading down the apartment stairs. Checking my pockets, I made sure my keys jingled before I let the door slam shut.

But as I looked up from my bag, I stopped in my tracks.Shit.

Outside Cleo’s Shelf, Cat Collins was pulling on the front door. She was trying to open it despite the sign obviously reading: “Closed”.

The sound of my apartment door clicking shut was enough for her to lift her head and meet my gaze.

My heart stopped beating as I looked into her green eyes. It had been years since I looked at them this close, close enough that I could slap her… or kiss her.

“Cleo.” She swallowed hard, her nerves suddenly bubbling up into her throat.

Shaking myself out of whatever haze she had put me in, I walked past her. “No.” I cleared space for myself near the door and started turning the lock. Whether or not I wanted Cleo here, I certainly wasn’t about to havethisconversation on the street outside of my business.

As I pressed past her, I could smell her familiar scent. Something about it had matured, the musk of her sweat a little less sweet. But something in me still recognized her.

“Please.” Cat turned toward me, not relenting on the space she was taking up in front of my bookstore’s door.

Pushing it open, I didn’t hold it – hoping it would slam into her face and she’d take the hint.

But before the door’s auto-close spring could work its magic, Cat slammed her hand against the glass and followed me inside.

I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.I’m gonna have to clean the door now.

Nonetheless, I pressed toward the counter as the familiar smell of bookstacks filled my nostrils and mostly replaced the overwhelming musk of Cat’s presence.

She moved toward the counter where I was setting down my tote bag. “Cleo, seriously. I’m trying to talk to you.”

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