Page 93 of Most Likely to Score
“I want to try this Irish soda bread you were raving about, and yes, I think I would pay to see you step dance.”
“Good news. You don’t have to pay to see me dance,” I say, since I want to share my family and our traditions, old and new, with her.
“So we’re doing it? An Irish step dancing class?”
“You bet we are,” I tell her since it’s a gift to learn all about her family, and I want her to know about my family, too.
After we finish, the waiter brings a plate of fortune cookies, and Jillian grabs the one pointed at her, cracking it open. Her eyebrows wiggle as she reads. “Ooh, this is a good one.”
“What does it say?”
“It says, ‘You have the hottest guy in the city wrapped around your finger.’”
“Sounds less like a fortune and more like the truth.”
“I speak no lies.”
“What does it really say?”
She takes a breath. “It says, ‘Good things come to those who wait.’”
I scoff. “That’s kind of vague.”
“I don’t know. I waited for you.”
“Did you?”
“You know I had my eyes on you for a long time.”
“I had my eyes on you for even longer. So much so I was always getting naked in front of you. Why didn’t you have your eyes on that?”
She laughs. “I’m making up for lost time,” she says, then tips her chin at my cookie. “What’s your fortune?”
I break the cookie and fish out the white strip of paper, reading the words aloud. “‘May your life be as steadfast as the mountains and your fortune as limitless as the sea.’” I nod, taking in the sentiment, letting it roll around in my head. “I like that. In fact,” I say, folding the slip of paper and tucking it into my wallet, “I’m keeping it with me.”
“Like a good luck symbol,” she says knowingly.
“You know luck and me are like this.” I twist my middle and index fingers together.
That’s why before every game, I follow my ritual. I eat a pomelo, whether home or away. So far, it’s been working. We’re only a few games into the season, but we have a winning record.
The record that matters most to me, though, is the one I have with Jillian. Every night I tell her I love her. Every morning, too, and usually several times during the day.
What can I say? I text her a lot. Many are naughty. Many are not. But she’s never far from my mind, or my body, since I’ve convinced her to spend nearly every night with Cletus and me. I have a big appetite, and I find the one streak I don’t want to break is having her every damn day.
That’s what I plan to do tonight.
Out on the street, I pull her in close and kiss her as we wait for a Lyft. Someone walking by mutters my name. Maybe that someone takes a picture. Maybe it’ll show up online. Maybe it won’t. Whatever happens is all good because I don’t have to worry anymore. I’ve learned the best way to rehab a reputation is to be a good guy and to fall in love with a woman who makes you want to be even better.
40
JILLIAN
My boss was right. Being involved with a ballplayer means you’re under scrutiny. A lot of gossip papers wanted to knowwhy her?Let the press speculate. I know what I have—a guy who declared his intention for me, and then declared it again and again and again. I have a guy who has a heart as big as his hands.
And, well, a certain other part.
I do love when he uses that part on me.
