Page 9 of Nailed at Home Plate

How the hell was I supposed to follow this? Was I supposed to do what she was doing? Was I supposed to go the opposite way because she was facing us? There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the nonsense. Maybe I could kind of half-ass it until it was time for fieldwork. Exactly how much time did the team waste on such pointless exercises?

I could only stand there, metaphorically scratching my head. Nerves were starting to churn in my gut. It had been quite some time since I did training in which I had no idea what the fuck was going on. It was almost as if it was like the first day of school.

The group did a little spin and then a single clap. All I could do was offer up a panic clap a few moments after theirs in a vain attempt to sort of follow along. Which only brought all of their attention back to me. The music cut off sharply.

“Mr. Rheems if you weren’t aware, you arerequiredto participate.” Her words sliced through the sudden quiet. She did tell me to follow along, but how could I when I had no idea what the dance moves were? I had no fucking clue how this all worked.

“Dude, just move. Even if you fake it.” The man to my right whispered under his breath. His dirty blonde beard was neatly trimmed. Which made it easy to hide the fact that he was talking to me.

“Don’t fuck it up or else she will make us do quiet yoga again.” I cocked my brow as the younger guy in front of me turned around to share that interesting little tidbit. What kind of fresh hell was this place?

“Kellan is right.” Cadence interrupted, loud enough for everyone to hear. Fucking hellandshehad super hearing? For a woman who had so much authority she sure couldn’t look me in the eye as she scolded me. Her face was pointed in my direction, but her eyes were off to the left. There was a telltale bit of mirth to her smirk. “Personally, I like quiet yoga days.”

I almost jumped from the resounding groan that echoed through the guys. Like Cadence, I didn’t mind yoga. It sure as fuck was better than dance practice. But the yoga she threatened them with had to be some wicked sort of hell for this ice queen to procure such a response from the team. Maybe it was safer just to attempt to dance. I didn’t want a reason for my teammates to be pissed at me from the get-go.

The music started again after a drawn-out, steely, indirect stare from Cadence. A shiver went down my spine, almost as if her eyes were glacier-like.

Despite her clunky demeanor, she moved with effortless grace. Her body was toned like a dancer. She was a brightness in the crowd of heather gray and navy blue. A goddess on the ball field.

Why the fuck was I haphazardly swaying to music and musing about my new coach’s body? But she was much more appealing to look at than a bunch of sweaty men shaking their asses. Much more appealing…

My foot tangled with my other and I tipped forward before catching myself. If I wasn’t careful, I’d end up with another fucking injury. An injury that would be more embarrassing than just being an old-as-dirt baseball catcher. This dancing stuff was more dangerous than having 90-mile-per-hour fastballs chucked at my head.

What was it about this woman that had me all tangled up in my thoughts? And limbs for that matter. She was like a perplexing enigma that moved with such effortless grace. With a sway to her hips that would even make a blind man take a second look.

I glanced at each of the guys, trying to gauge how they felt about her. From what I could tell, no one was ogling her with wagging tongues, waiting for her to bend forward so they could get a better view. Despite her chilly output, she held the guys’ attention. She had to be a hell of a woman to keep this bunch of guys in line.

My trail of thoughts had turned aggravating again. Why was she so stuck in my brain? It had to be from her piss-poor attitude andnotabout how good her wider-set curves looked in spandex.

After the less-than-ideal breakup with Vanessa, I promised myself no more relationships. Not even a tryst. It wasn’t fair to bring a woman into this life on the road, no matter how willing she was. Because it was the overly willing ones who were the gold diggers or who wanted to share the spotlight.

I hated the spotlight. I wanted to be as far away as possible from it. I wanted someone who didn’t want it either, someone who was understanding and genuine. The women I encountered previously were the farthest things from it.

Sure, there were decent ones in the bunch. My colleagues in the majors somehow managed to find incredible partners and some of them…not so much. Some of the younger guys were there to party and enjoy all the other various nonsense that came with it.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried. Between my teammates trying to set me up on dates to managing a few on my own, it never ended well. The demands of my career were the biggest contention. Even if I needed to blow off some steam, I wasn’t going to sleep with a woman for fun.

Call me old-fashioned, or my southern North Carolina charm, but I needed to have a connection with someone if I was going to take them to bed. Sex wasn’t just a physical thing for me. It was mental. Emotional. Just like baseball. Whatever that switch was that most men had that focused on getting off with the next hot thing, I didn’t have it.

Although it didn’t mean I wouldn’tlook.

I would admire an attractive woman as much as the next guy. Especially ones with soft pink curves…

That mental distraction somehow put me in the way of the guy in front of me with messy black hair and deeply tanned skin. He spun around with his arms out. Ducking away from the man tornado, my face avoided the brunt of his helicopter as he backhanded my shoulder. Which only sent me stumbling forward into the next row of players doing the same motion.

There were a few shouts of surprise and grumbles before the music came, once again, to a sudden stop.

“Mr. Rheems! Seriously. Is there a problem?” The hips that distracted me in the first place were cocked to one side, with her hand perched on the tasty jut of her hip bone.Move your fucking eyes elsewhere, Jamie.

“Uh…no.” My gaze shot up to hers, completely called out on multiple fronts. All eyes turned to me along with some chuckles as the guys took the interruption to grab water or wipe the sweat off their faces.

“Good, because I’d hate to bring you front and center.” There was a playful chorus of “oohs” from the peanut gallery. “Alright, guys, from the top!”

On second thought, maybe retiring wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

Don’t Blame Me

TAYLOR SWIFT

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