Page 105 of Wild Pitch
“I meant it earlier.”
“Meant what?”
“Thank you.” That works like a rope that pulls me back to face him. He has his right elbow over the edge of the tub, chin on his forearm as he watches me. “I really don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“I—Well—” I raise my hands to tuck my hair behind my ears, except it’s gathered in a ponytail and I look like a fool. I lower them again. “You’re wel?—”
I get interrupted by the beep of my watch, signaling that fifteen minutes have passed. And then the worst happens.
Cade starts to get up.
Water sluices down his body, his skin gleaming as his muscles work with the movement. I try not to stare but I’m not strong enough. Instead, I drink it all in, his wide shoulders, his firm chest, the cinematic eight pack, the defined V that starts at his outrageously narrow hips and disappears down his underwear.
Oh my gosh. He’s in his underwear. I need to lift my eyes right freaking now.
I do, right in time for him to step so close that I can feel the cold radiating off his skin. His expression is blank but his eyessearching. They roam all over my face, leaving tingles in their trail. For a wild second they settle on my lips—and the traitors part. I don’t know if it’s because I want to tell him to kiss me or if I’m just shocked.
But then his eyes rise to mine and slowly, like molasses, his lips lift into a smirk. That gesture alone sends a stab of need through me, traveling like heat all over my body until my toes curl in my sneakers.
Cade lifts a dripping hand, and one of his freezing fingers runs across my cheek for a second, then farther up behind my ear where he hooks a strand of my hair I wasn’t aware of.
“See you later, my lady in shining armor,” he whispers with a deep voice.
I steel myself against the shiver but his smirk deepens. Cade steps away and bends to pick up his clothes, and I’m ashamed to report that I do look at his perfect bubble butt. Without a glance back, he walks away leaving me a mess.
CHAPTER 34
CADE
“Do you hear me?” Kim demands from the shower stall next to mine, loud enough so I can’t use the excuse of the water spray, or the noise all around us as a hoard of naked men soap themselves up and chitchat like school kids.
“Yes, honey,” I respond as I rinse my hair.
From my other side, Lucky asks, “Who’s the wife in this relationship?”
“Starr.”
“Kim.”
This gives Lucky great amusement, and good for him. I’d punch them both if my hand wasn’t so valuable.
Sighing, I turn my face into the cold spray for a moment, gathering myself to speak in a civilized manner. “Yes, Kim. I will do more stretching at home before bed, and I will eat extra protein too. Quit nagging me. I don’t give you shit every single day.”
He’s lathering himself with dedication as he says, “That’s because nothing you say is going to make me a better player than I already am.”
I stare at him, and I even feel Lucky step around me to also stare him down. Kim just shrugs those tatted shoulders of his.
“Wow, that’s cold, man.” Lucky shakes his head and returns to stand under his shower.
“Point taken, Mr.-All-Star-Top-Pedigree-Dog,” I enunciate every word in a deadpanned way. “But one more annoying word out of your mouth and I’ll drop this bar of soap right at your feet when you’re not noticing.”
Kim raises soapy hands in defense. “Hey, soap bar jokes in the showers are a step too far.”
I flip him off and finish showering. In the end, I don’t make him slip to his demise because I’ve never been a fan of getting in trouble with the law. It’s just too much hassle.
That’s also why I’m still thinking about whether to press charges against the three women or not. The punishment so far might already be enough. They’ve been banned for life, and thanks to the media, they’ve also been immortalized for posterity as part of the select Florida Women club of very public mughosts. I can’t imagine that would go well with their employers and families.
The Orlando Wild organization left it up to me to press more serious criminal charges and I haven’t decided. I have no proof that one of them has stalked me longer than the recent incident, so I think without that the case for a restraining order is weak. Lou said he’d back me up either way, but that also going on my first season as a starter pitcher with this hanging over me might have mental repercussions. I’ve never felt more like just a jock with a high school diploma until this moment.
