Page 91 of Wild Pitch
“Your roommate told me.”
I don’t even ask who, it doesn’t matter. Shaking my head, I explain, “I did have to go to urgent care but it’s because my dad hurt his ankle playing pickleball yesterday.”
Cade’s eyebrows take off like airplanes. “Oh. Is he okay?”
“Yeah, it just took forever to get checked and then fitted with a cast, and then the prescription for the pain.”
“I’m glad he’s okay.” Clearing his throat, he shifts to sit up straight, his knees now at a normal distance that allows me to unfurl myself from my tiny corner. His turquoise eyes scan me from the baseball cap on my head, my loose hair, my gigantic sweatshirt with the Orlando Wild logo, down to my leggings clad legs, and my comfy sneakers I’ve had forever.
I look shabby, I know that. If I had a heads up that he was coming by, I’d have ran home and made some effort. Maybe ditched the sweatshirt.
“And I’m glad you look okay,” he adds in a quiet voice. That’s when I realize he wasn’t checking me out, but making sure I’m no longer sick.
“Gee, thanks for the compliment,” I say in a teasing manner just to hide my embarrassment at myself. “And you look…”
My attempt at deflecting works like a freaking charm, because he looks like a whole mess. I blow a raspberry and barely manage to stop the ensuing laugh by pressing a hand to my mouth.
He’s wearing his cap backward, and has the dude version of my outfit except for the silliest socks I’ve ever laid my eyes on. They look like chicken legs.
A corner of his lips twitch. “Wait till you see the magic trick.” Then he toes his sneakers off and I really bark a laugh. They really are chicken legs complete with chicken feet.
“Let me guess… Rivera.”
“Who else.” He leans back, turning his face up to the sun. “Wow, this is nice.”
Sure is. I don’t mind that the bench is a bit too small for the two of us, like at all. My thigh brushes against his and his arm is behind me. I have front row view of his neck stretching in the most inviting way, but all I can do is run my tongue across my lips and look away. To my trail mix. I put some more in my mouth just to keep it busy.
“Cade?” I ask while chewing.
“Hmm?”
“You haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”
His arm brushes with my hair as he lifts it to hold the back of his head with both hands. “I was in a meeting with Winters when she mentioned the urgent care thing and I panicked a little. In my defense, I didn’t hear back from you for a whole day.”
He was worried.
Warmth spreads all over my chest.
“But anyway, this was in Beau’s office and while she was giving me your dad’s address, Beau walked in and ruined my plans of ditching.”
“Ditching?” I gasp and smack his rock solid thigh with the back of my hand. “That can get you suspended, you clown.” I pause before asking, “Were you that worried?”
He turns his head slightly towards me, eyes shifting to mine and it feels like they’re pinning me against a wall. His lips part. I lean forward slightly, eager to hear the answer…
When someone else’s voice speaks instead. “Is that Cade Starr?”
We both turn. A little old lady walking a chihuahua stands just a few feet from us, waiting for her tiny dog to finish its business, but her attention trained very much on my companion. Er, friend. I guess. Coworker? Bench partner.
“Yes, hi, ma’am.” His southern manners kick in right away and he sits up straight, tipping his head at her.
“Oh, my goodness.” She looks around herself. “I don’t have any paper to get your autograph. Now my grandkids won’t believe I met you.”
“How about a selfie?” he suggests and it lights up her whole face so bright, she competes with the sun.
I’m not strong enough to not melt as he gets up from the bench in a hurry, eating up the distance in two easy strides. The elderly woman barely reaches his shoulders in height, and as she gives him her phone for the selfie, he crouches in his chicken socks to take the picture as close to her as possible.
Cade Starr isn’t just a nice guy. He’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met in my life, period. When I was alone, humiliated, and about to be scammed out of the most expensive dinner of my life, he swooped in without hesitation and without expecting anything in return. When, at my peak unhinged, I asked him to be my dating coach because I needed help, heagreed without much hassle. Now he makes small talk with a random stranger, even bending down to pet her dog because he can’t seem to fathom the concept of ignoring even canine fans—and it is a fan, all right, going by how it flips its belly up to Cade’s scratches.
