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“Hey,” he said, leaning to one side, then the other, blocking my view of Avery as I tried to look around him. “Let’s not hulk out, okay?”
I gritted my teeth and fought the urge to ram him out of my way with one shoulder and continue my path to the bar.
“You were busy, and they’re just talking.” Emerson appeared behind me and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve been keeping an eye on her. And she’s not dating, remember?”
The tight knot in my chest loosened and I unclenched my fists. Fuck. Avery deserved so much more than an idiot who lost his temper all the damn time. I had to be better than that.
I took a breath and let it out slowly, forcing my brain and my heart to calm. “I’m fine.”
With a nod, Mason stepped to the side. Emerson gave me another pat on the shoulder, and then they were gone.
I pushed down the last embers of anger and slowly headed toward the bar.
“Nope, my dating sabbatical will last until March. No matter howmany times any of you ask.” Avery’s laugh floated on the air and engulfed me. “I’m 100 percent committed to my timeline.”
My shoulders slumped. That admission shouldn’t surprise me, but I swore there had been signs at Christmas that hinted at her being interested in more. At the time, I was sure she was feeling the buzz that I felt every time we were together. But I had promised myself that I’d give her the time she needed, so I’d do that.
“Hey, Blondie,” I said, finally approaching.
She spun, and her face lit up. “Chris.”
Fuck. My heart lurched at the happiness that radiated from her. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I swore the smile she reserved for me was different from the one she gave the rest of the world.
War eyed me over her head, his expression unreadable. He and I weren’t that different. Hotheads who were the bane of the PR team’s existence. We typically joked about it when we bumped into one another. But we wouldn’t be laughing much more if he didn’t walk away now.
As if reading my mind, he dipped his head. “Nice meeting you, Avery. Have fun with Dragon.” He lifted his glass to me, then turned to Hall. “Come on, Playboy, let’s go.”
“Can I have two Easy Outs, please?” I asked the bartender as he passed.
A moment later, he popped the caps and slid them across the bar.
“They stock Easy Out?” she asked, holding her bottle up and examining it like she hadn’t seen the label fifty times or more in the past nine or ten months.
“Requested them for you.” I pushed the mostly full Coors away, knowing she wasn’t really a fan.
She hit me with another knee-weakening smile. “You’re always so good to me.”
“Come on.” I slid an arm around her back and led her back to a booth.
And that’s where I stayed for the next three hours, content to listen to her talk to me or any of the dozen people who stopped by throughout the night.
We watched the ball drop on the TV over the bar, and at midnight, Ipulled her in for a hug. When I pressed my lips to her forehead, I silently promised that this year would be the year I’d get to call Avery Wilson mine.
January
“Damiano,” Tom Wilson called across the cages where I was working my shoulder. The slider from hell was still haunting me. And although I wouldn’t pitch full games for a few more weeks, I wanted it worked out before we left for spring training in Clearwater.
I walked to the fence and raised my chin, but Wilson didn’t leave the doorway.
“My office before you leave.” Without giving me a chance to answer, he spun and strode away.
I shook my head. For Avery, I was putting all my efforts into getting along with Coach, but the man made himself hard to like.
“Dragon?” In the cage next to me, Mason was working on his swing. Now that Miller had retired, Mason would need to carry the team bats. “Do you ever worry that he’ll ask you about Avery?”
Worry was probably the wrong word. I assumed that he’d eventually ask me about her. But it wasn’t a worry now, because there wasnothing to tell at this point. I thought his daughter was amazing, and she thought I was a great friend.
“Don’t stir up shit, Dumpty. I’m not worried about him.” With a frown, I shook my head, then got back to work. I threw a couple more sliders, feeling a little better each time. I’d finally gotten to the point where I could pitch without flinching. When it was time to clear out for the day, I headed upstairs to Coach’s office.
