Page 133 of Wild Catch
Shouldn’t you be resting?
Me
I can rest better while looking at your face
My Rose
Oh
Okay
I like that
My face stretches into a grin. The worst part of it is that I mean it—it wasn’t just an empty line to flirt with her. Between being cooped up in my apartment with internet, a TV with cutting edge sound system, and a million books, I’d rather be with her. There’s no need to pretend like that’s not the case any longer.
After much protesting on her side, instead of buying lunch for us and coming to my place, we agree that I’ll go to the facilities. What eased her is that I have a couple of team meetings to attend, even if I’m on the injured list, so it’s not like I’m going out of my way just to see her.
Let’s face it, though, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m actually not mandated to attend the team meetings in person for a week.
I hop on my Maserati and don’t even put the top down. I only remember that I could’ve done that when I’m already parking at the ballpark, like the fact that my mind now feels fully free means that I don’t have to compensate for that by driving in the open wind. I doubt that my claustrophobia is fully cured, but I sure as hell feel different.
My watch says that I’m way too early to whisk Rose away for lunch, but I figure I can at least drop by her cubicle for a little make out session. At the entrance I veer left into the admin offices, where I normally veer right toward the team area. The closer I get, the more my pulse climbs in anticipation, but when I get to the marketing area, the place is deserted and I stop at the entrance cursing my timing.
“She’s in the big meeting room with everyone else.”
I glance over my shoulder. Audrey Winters stands a few paces away, a stack of manila folders in her arms. I won’t even ask her how she knows who I’m looking for because at this point there is a giant, neon sign hanging over my head that saysI’m wild over Rosalina Mena.
Instead, I motion at her folders. “Need help?”
“I’m good, but thanks for offering.” For some reason, she starts smirking. “I can see why Rose chose you.”
“Sorry?”
“You’re a good one, Logan. I trust that you’ll stay good to her?” She tilts her head, a challenge clear in her expression. I get the feeling that she’s capable of inflicting great harm on anyone who hurts her friends.
“Always,” I respond, solemn and with my whole damn chest.
“Good.” She nods at me, and continues going. I watch her retreat, long blonde hair swinging behind her. Where Hope is straightforward and headstrong, and Rose is clever and sweet, this one is confusing. She reminds me of the me before Rose.
Or maybe I’m just so damn in love that I’m starting to see funny things that I didn’t notice before.
Shrugging my good shoulder, I change direction to the big meeting room and thanks to the fact that all the walls around the admin area are made of glass, I spot Rose easily. It’s the curls—I’ve started to be able to pick her out in a crowd of thousands at a packed ballpark.
I hide my grin behind my hand as I lean against the wall outside in the corridor. But Rose also notices my presence and it stops her mid sentence. That stupor leads to other heads turning my way.
I raise my hand for a wave.
Rose pushes her chair back and scrambles around the large meeting table. With everyone watching, she opens the door and pokes her head out. Her voice sounds breathless when she speaks, “Logan! You’re early.”
“I wanted to see you.”
“But…” She glances back.
“I can keep just seeing you from over here. Or I could go if that bothers you.” I resist the urge to cringe, realizing only now how annoying I must be coming across.
“No, it’s just—” She bites her lip.
“Oh, for goodness’s sake. Let him in,” says Dave Rogers, Rose’s boss. “It’s not everyday that we can get a player’s input while we brainstorm.”
