Page 92 of Wild Pitch
A freaking dorable.
I swoon. I legit sigh so strong that I feel like I’m melting down and have to use both hands to keep my head upright. One day, Cade is going to make a woman very, very happy.
Why can’t that be me?
The old lady gives him a hug that forces him to arch his body, and I hear her bless him like he’s her grandson instead. After waving goodbye, she keeps walking her doggo and the baseball player heads back to my bench to sit again.
“So, where were we?” he asks.
I swallow thick. There’s no way I’m going to remind him of the question I asked. He must have been that worried to make the trip here, yes. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he has feelings for me or anything. He’s just the kind of guy to drop everything for the people he cares about—or even his fans.
And I want… I want to be even more important. I want to be the person he worries about the most.
But I have no right. How incredibly awkward, even underhanded, would it be if I go from “hey, wanna be my dating coach?” to “hey, I’m firing you as dating coach because I want to date you instead.” I never intended this to happen but that’s how it would look.
Then, there’s the bigger issue. The one where Cade has literally one best friend in his entire life who buys him chicken socks, and no one else. It would be cruel of me to demand more than he’s willing or able to give, and then turn the whole work dynamic sour if things go wrong.
That’s when it hits me that it was the exact same reasoning Dawson gave to force me to not feel my feels. And now I’m doing the same thing to myself.
The trail mix churns unpleasantly in my stomach.
“Hope? Are you okay? You’re making a weird face.”
I’m lightheaded as I raise a hand to stop him. “Hold on, I’m processing something right now.”
“Can I have some of your trail mix while you do that?”
“Have at it.” I offer the bag and hold very still as he takes it, his hand brushing against mine.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to let my douche of an ex win. That’s the reason I even approached Cade in the first place. Yet I also know that the second I decide that yes, I do, in fact, have a huge crush on Cade Starr, I’m going to screw it all up. Between work being tricky and me morphing into an upturned turtle with no social skills in front of men I’m remotely interested in, it’s a recipe for disaster. And I really don’t want to mess things up with Cade.
So how do I navigate this?
“Oh. My. Gosh!”
Once more, we turn to the unknown voice.
This time it’s a girl about my age with the tiniest waist I’ve ever seen, in a sports bra and shorts most commonly found in summer than this time of year. In fact, looking at her makes me chillier.
She places a delicate hand on her chest. “Cade Starr?TheCade Starr?”
“Uh, hi,” he says, sounding dazed. And I don’t blame him, she’s very pretty. Button nose and thick lips type of pretty.
“I’m such a huge fan.” Her smile could power an entire country’s electrical grid. It only falters slightly as she spots his socks.
I bite my lips not to laugh. Also because she doesn’t seem to notice me and if she’s part of the fan demographic that isdeeplyinterested in him, it might be best to not call attention to me.
“Thank you.” Cade lifts his cap to run a hand through his hair. “Would you like a selfie?”
My face twitches, this close to grimacing. Why does this smack so different to the old lady?
“Yes, I would love one!” She immediately whips out her phone from her arm holder and hands it over to him as he approaches. He does the exact same thing, crouching lower so he can appear in the frame, and she glues her side to his, boob squishing against him and all.
Yep, that’s why it smacks different.
Once the picture is taken, he straightens out again to return the phone, but she imprisons his hand in both of hers. “Just so you know, I’m a woman who keeps it real so if you’re interested maybe I can give you a call later?”
Cade gives an awkward laugh. “Thanks, I just really have to focus on the season or my agent will kill me.”
