Page 106 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“I am not stubborn!” I defend, half-heartedly. “What have you told him?”

“The truth,” she answers. “Some days you were better than others. Some days you struggled. Some days you were PMS-ing and cried when you ran out of lavender coffee syrup and couldn’t figure out how to buy it.”

“I did not cr—OMG. There is no auto-ship, is there?!” Tiffany shakes her head.

I scoured that coffee shop website the day after the syrups arrived to see what other flavors they had but I couldn’t find any mention of them for sale. They must have been bottling them just for him.

“He sent the syrup. What else?” I ask narrowing my eyes at her.

“Did you ever wonder why your car magically stopped telling you that it needed wiper fluid? Or why the doorman stopped being rough with your packages? Daddy Miller was on the case.”

“Why would he do all that?” I wonder out loud.

“Maybe Lola is a slightly dumber Phoebe,” I hear Raven whisper, earning her a glare.

“Bunny,” Carina says, patting my hand, “he did it because he loves you and wants to take care of you.”

“But I made him give me space,” I reply.

“You did. And he did. As much as he is capable, anyway. He took care of things behind the scenes while you took care of you,” she shares.

I don’t know what to say to this information. I can’t believe that even when I was pushing him away, Brady was holding me close. He did things to make my life easier while for all he knew, I was off deciding not to be with him anymore. God, how selfless is this man?

“I love him,” I say.

“We know,” they all confirm in unison.

“I need to tell him.”

“You will,” Carina assures me. “But it’s going to have to wait until the team gets home.”

She’s right. There is nothing I can do about it now. They guys have another game in LA. If they win, they come back here for a final game to determine who is going to the World Series. It’s a lot of pressure and the last thing Brady needs is me adding to it. I’ll bide my time and continue our routine until I can talk to him face-to-face again.

ChapterFifty

• BRADY •

The team squeaked by with a win in LA over the weekend, but lost last night at home, knocking us out of the World Series. We made it further than last year, but it sucks to be this close and not reach your goal.

Adding to my frustration, I haven’t heard from Lola today. I wanted to text her first thing this morning, but I waited in case she wanted to say something about the loss. Now, I feel like an idiot because she might be wary to reach out if she thinks I’m upset.

Instead of stewing at home and waiting for her to reach out, I decided to let my frustrations out at the batting cages. Considering our season is over, the stadium is pretty much vacant aside from office staff and essential personnel.

Getting into a good rhythm, I don’t hear the door open until a loud squeal reverberates, jerking me out of the zone. I rush to the wall and hit the shut off button when I see someone hit the deck. Peeking up at me from her spot on the floor is none other than the woman I was trying to block out of my mind. Before I can say anything, security comes running in. They skid to a stop when they see me.

“Mr. Miller. We’re sorry to interrupt your workout,” one of the men stammers. “You didn’t happen to see a woman come through here, did you?”

“Hello, gentlemen,” I greet rolling my lips to try to stop from laughing as I lean against the side of the cage. Lola stares up at me wide-eyed. There is netting blocking her from their view as she puts her finger to her lips, signaling my discretion. “I can’t say I’ve seen anyone here who doesn’t belong.” The men nod and survey the room a final time before moving on.

When they leave, I turn back to my girl. “Hey there, rule breaker,” I say with a smirk, pushing off the chain link to offer her hand up. She takes it and dusts herself off, whipping her head around the room. “The coast is clear,” I chuckle. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Tiffany told me she could get me into the stadium. She didnotmention her methods were less than legal,” she huffs.

“Why did you need to sneak into the stadium?”

“Because Kent said that’s where you were.”

“You could’ve called, ya know? Or at least texted. I would have let you in. Properly. Or met you at home.”

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