Page 41 of Nailed at Home Plate

“Perfect. Text me the details and I’ll pick it up on my way over.”

“I–”

“Fuck, right. I need your number.” Blinking, I pulled out my phone and handed it to him. His strong hand brushed mine before his calloused fingers glided across my screen to put in his digits before he texted himself.

Holy shit I had Jamie Rheems’ number.

Holy shit I had an actual date with Jamie Rheems.

Holy fucking shit I was probably sleeping with Jamie Rheems.Again.

I was left in a happy daze for warmups. The guys kept giving me curious looks since I was a bit more aloof than normal. Maybe also a bit sore in some places. But it was totally worth it. Did they suspect something?

Thankfully Jamie kept his distance. But there were plenty of looks from him in my direction. Not that I was staring at him at every free moment in utter disbelief.

We were walking into dangerous territory here. How dangerous remained to be seen. Mine and Roman’s dating life was too short to even bring it to the attention of HR. Jamie wasn’t even technically a permanent member of the Sillys roster. The fact that he was in the majors might overly complicate things. But this was only day one. Er, well, technically day thirty, but day one post-coitus, if we were being technical.

Did adults even ask to be partners with someone anymore? High school was easy, you just sent them a note with “Will you date me, circle one: Yes or No”. Or was nothing assumed until you moved in together?

For fucks sake, Cadence. You’re barely twenty-four hours into this. Stop overthinking it all.

Right. I was supposed to be watching the game to make sure Jamie hit his dance cues. But how could I concentrate on visual nonsense when there was so much mental nonsense going on inside my skull?

My view of Jamie’s butt as he squatted over home plate was as good of a draw as any to bring my focus back on the game. Thanks to last night, I’d seen that delicious ass firsthand. For fucking fucks sake, I really needed to get the naked thoughts of Jamie out of my brain or else the combination of the summer heat and my fluster was going to give me a heat stroke.

I did notice that Jamie looked a little more enthusiastic tonight with the Sillys. Not a single grumble. His leg would pop out with dramatic emphasis when Ender would let a creative pitch sail over the plate.

Despite his overall reluctance to this whole dancing thing, Jamie’s head bobbed to the music in between batters. For this debut game, he wasn’t going to be in any of the big dance numbers. I wanted to ease him into being front and center with the Sillys. To see how he did in front of the crowd with a few signature moves. So far, he was goingabove and beyondwhat we planned on. Which was honestly nothing.

The moment he tossed off his catcher’s mask to catch a pop fly stopped my heart. He’d done it dozens of times when playing in the majors. But there was just something about a luscious man wearing a backwards ball cap in baseball uniform, after having an epic night of sex, that made my body tingle. His electric yellow pads only added to the chaos. Who knew yellow could be so sexy?

He looked like his old self again. Maybe with a bit more of a spring to his step. The knee wasn’t giving him any issues. Yet I held my breath. He stillneeded to bat. That was the biggest point of contention as to why he ended up with the Sillys.

Chewing on my lower lip, I sat on the edge of my seat as he stepped up to the batter box for his first at-bat as a Silly. The man had the absolute audacity to look in my direction andwinkat me with a tip of the brim of his batting helmet. It was like a direct shot to my heart and inner fangirl.

The ladies around me must have been fellow Jamie fans, as there was a chorus of shrill cries of excitement. Part of me knew it was just for me and yet the other part was still in disbelief that I had a fucking date after the game with JamiefuckingRheems. Hell, I had sex with JamiefuckingRheemstwicein the last 24 hours.

I really needed to stop picturing the catcher naked.

I tried to suppress the overwhelming heart palpitations as I watched him take his stance next to home plate.Come on Jamie, you can do this.I repeated the mantra in my head until I heard the ball hit the catcher’s glove.

STRIKE!

Dammit.

The man was eager for that ball. He had to be careful and wait for the good pitches. His cleats shifted in the dirt. He was antsy at the plate. Nerves had settled in. He took a step back to do his usual calming routine: hit the tip of his bat on the toes of his cleats before he adjusted his belt. Dear god, why was all of this so much hotter with him in a Sillys uniform?

I knew the Sillys crowd was a bit different than the raucous and judgy majors crowd, but he still needed to keep his head down and concentrate.

Another pitch.

A sharp crack pierced the crowd's ambient noise.

It gave way to hearty cheers as Jamie made a beeline for first base. My ass popped up off the plastic stadium seat as my heart slammed to a stop in my chest.Oh, please let him at least get a base hit.If his hit ball was caught or he was tagged out, it wouldn’t move his batting average in the right direction.

I only exhaled when I saw his bright yellow cleat hit the dusty white bag of first base. My eyes stayed glued on his form as he did this unexpected but fun one-footed spin on the bag before he continued to the next base. I shouted at him to stay at second. The ball had bounced its way into the green grass of the outfield but was quickly making its way back in-field.

Jamie arrived at second and stopped at the bag just seconds before the ball hit the second baseman’s glove. The ump did a little booty wiggle before he waved his palms in opposite directions to designate “safe”. I bounced up and down and screamed my damn head off.

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