Page 2 of Wild Catch
I really thought that was all it would take to make me happy. Ben checks all those things and when he started to take notice of me, I thought I was set—that I had finally found the man of my dreams with whom I could start my own family.
Except there’s been one major obstacle: we work together. Ish.
I’m the social media manager for the team, which is fancy-speak for I create content, edit it, and post it on social media. It’s nowhere near as simple as it sounds because there’s a hierarchy of command I have to follow that includes my boss, the rest of the marketing team, along with the company guidelines, and it’s precisely the last ones that throw a wrench in here.
It’s not like I’m banned from dating withon the team, but it’s true that there aren’t many women in the organization and there are exactly zero public couples. Whoever goes first is probably going to get an amount of scrutiny that neither Ben nor I are interested in.
Thus, we’ve been dating in secret for almost a year.
And I repeat that:a year.
But I’m in this to build a life together—not to store a few titillating encounters in hidden corners in the back of my mind, to look back on them fondly from the rocking chair in a retirement home.
Based on the fight we had last week, I’m not sure that Ben is on the same page.
“See you at home?” Hope’s voice snaps me out of it.
I jerk my face up to offer her a smile, and she’s so busy herding the last of the guys that she doesn’t notice anything amiss about it.
How I wish I could tell anyone about what I’m going through with Ben. My roommates and I aren’t on pajama-party-every-night level, but I’m sure they’d have really good advice considering that both of them also work for the team.
And more than everyone, I wish I could tell my mom. She’s my best friend and confidante, my rock, the one person on this earth who sincerely cares about me.
I’m pretty sure none of them would have approved of a relationship where I’m kept a secret from the beginning, though. Which is why I think my only move left is to brave this with Ben, come as it may.
From there the plan was born: go to Ben’s fancy apartment downtown, set up a feast on the table complete with candles and rose petals, toss more petals on the beautifully made bed, lie on said bed and petals in my most show stopping lingerie set and…
Tell him that if he wants this to continue, ithasto be official. No more being afraid. No more keeping us like a dirty secret.
Speaking of. There’s Ben rounding the corner behind everyone else.
My heartbeat flutters higher and higher at the sight of him, like a butterfly lifting into the sky. He hasn’t noticed me yet because he’s chatting with someone but it’s okay, he’ll definitely notice me when he finds me on his bed later.
Something gets my attention in the corner of my eye and my heart stops. I’m momentarily stunned by the contrast of feelings before my brain kicks in.
It’s Logan Kim, the main catcher of the team, and inarguably the top looker. He’s the one that Ben is chatting with as they walk over. Unlike Ben, though, Logan’s eyes are on me. Or rather, they shift from me to Ben, and back to me. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but he fixes a cocked eyebrow my way that speaks volumes.
I don’t know what expression I had on my face that gave me away, and I try to wipe it. But I know it’s too late and Logan Kim literally just realized I have a thing with the team’s star pitcher.
I’m supposed to head the opposite direction and now that the corridor is clear, I pick myself up to do precisely that. As I approach, Ben’s words drift to my ears at last and he’s so into his tale of how one type of pitch felt compared to another one during practice, that he doesn’t even notice when I walk by.
The farther I get from them, the harder my heart beats. I place a hand on my chest, willing it to calm down. I’m not sure if it’s because I just gave myself away to the unofficial captain, who happens to be the most shrewd guy on the team—or if it’s because my plan is officially a go.
I hop in my blue Toyota Corolla and do a few breathing exercises I’ve seen Hope do after her intense workouts. Turning the vehicle on, I figure that I still have to go to Ben’s to receive the catering order. Maybe I can watch a show to unwind as I wait.
See? The Logan Kims of the world are the reason why it’s imperative that Ben and I become public.
I don’t think he’s a blabbermouth like Lucky Rivera, but Logan is pretty by the books. It’s that quality what has made him the leader of the team, and I have no doubt he’ll pay more attention to Ben and I from now on. The second he catches us in one of those hidden corners that Ben likes, we’re toast.
I brave downtown traffic at rush hour while listening to my dad’s favorite salsa singer, Oscar D’León. I didn’t get to meet Dad, but Mom passed along enough of his idiosyncrasies that I can still feel him in my life. This is one—apparently Oscar calmed him down, and now he does the same for me.
The catering bags await outside Ben’s apartment door when I arrive, which is slightly annoying because they’re early. I take a deep breath and start humming Llorarás, one of Oscar’s most famous songs, and gather all the bags to bring them inside. The food and I are going to wait who knows how long, so I end up putting it in the fridge.
That only burns me ten minutes at most. Whipping around, I take in the dark of the apartment and flutter about turning lights on, fluffing pillows, lowering the thermostat five degrees so I’m not sweating through my makeup anymore. I finally chuck the cardigan off and flop on the couch, grabbing a couple of cushions to I make myself at home.
I palm around searching for the remote, but maybe being so comfortable finally makes my adrenaline crash because my body slacks, I become one with the soft velvet, and close my eyes without ever turning the TV on.
*
