“No. That’s a date thing.”
“We’ve already established that youaremy date.”
“Have not,” I say.
We turn a corner. “You didn’t deny it upstairs.”
“Because the idea of being late is theonlyfate worse than dating you.”
“It’s all coming up Coop,” he says.
I can’t help but laugh. And when he takes my lipstick and phone and puts them in his pocket, I also can’t help but notice how strong and … attractive his hands are.
(And yes, I’m fully aware how strange it is to find someone’s hands attractive.)
The hallways are full of people. Because the sessions are over for the day, it’s easier to spot the non-baseball guests and fans. Yes, the meetings themselves are private, but it’s still a big hotel with plenty of other people staying.
We get our pictures snapped by a couple dozen people, and I try to hide my face.
“Embarrassed to be seen with me?” Coop says.
“More like worried my brothers will flip their lids. I’m not allowed to date baseball players.”
“That’s a stupid rule.”
“You don’t date fans.”
He gives me his most impish smile yet. “Haven’t you heard, Frosted Sugar Plum? Rules are made to be broken.”
“Frosted? Because I’m a bit of an ice queen?”
“Nah, because of the dry shampoo,” he says.
I laugh. “Get over yourself,Buddy.”
“You called me that earlier. Why?”
“You wore a Christmas cowboy hat in an airport with a Rudolph face tattoo.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re Buddy the Elf.”
Laughter bursts from him. “Yes! That is so much better than I thought.”
“Why did you think I was calling you ‘Buddy?’”
“I was worried you were friend-zoning me.”
Heat pools in my abdomen before spreading out to my limbs. But before I can respond or even process what he just said, Coop spots someone up ahead.
“Braden!” He jogs forward a dozen yards and pulls the guy into a big hug. “How are you, man? How’s Las Cruces?”
“Not the same without you,” he says.
I’m not sure if I should walk in without him, or not, but Coop turns to me and waves me over. “Braden, this is my friend, Liesel,” Coop says, “She works for the Firebirds. Liesel, this is Braden, one of my friends from home. He’s a pitching coach for the Double-A team in New Mexico where we grew up.”
We shake hands, and Braden gives me a friendly smile. Coop puts his hand on my lower back as he and Braden catch up. His hand is warm and presses around my spine in a way that gives me goosebumps. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Coop was putting out a vibe to his friend.
