My head flinches back at his harsh words. I’ve dealt with men like him enough times that I wasn’t expecting him to start spewing rainbows and butterflies in my direction, but I didn’t think he’d make it so vulgar.
I open my mouth to respond and diffuse the situation, but I don’t get the chance.
“You would do well to watch your words,” Ryan’s murderous voice says from behind me.
FOURTEEN
STRIKE TWO
RYAN
I’m not focusedon a single word Annie’s asking me right now. I’m giving her generic answers about how my training regimen is doing what it should and that our win was a team effort.
Blah, blah, blah.
I feel bad that I’m not giving her my full attention. She doesn’t deserve me being so distracted. Annie’s covered all the Suns games with Sports24 since before I was called up from the minors. And her background as a D1 athlete turned sports journalist is inspiring. She knew what she wanted to do in life and didn’t let anyone tell her she couldn’t do it.
Instead, all my attention keeps drifting over the cameraman’s shoulder to catch glimpses of Isa. She’s intently focused on the crowd. Like she always is. I love that about her. I love that she’s so dedicated to her job. It also doesn’t hurt that she looks damn hot in her pantsuits. She looks like she means business and not to get on her bad side. Which only makes me want to rile her up more.
I hear my name shouted from somewhere in the crowd in a less-than friendly manner. I internally roll my eyes. It’s probably a fan from the opposing team who’s annoyed we won. The usual suspects.
Get over it, man. It’s just a game.
I nod and smile along with Annie’s questions until I see her eyes flick toward the stands. I subtly follow her gaze, catching sight of the man who’s drawn her attention.
“You’ve never even played baseball! It’s a man’s sport! What makes you qualified for your job? I can do better!” he shouts. It takes everything in me to hold back my scoff. Sure, she hasn’t played baseball, but she was a D1 collegiate softball player. I’d argue she’s tougher than me.
It’s common for the athletes to get heckled, but it’s not nearly as frequent for that aggression to be directed at the broadcasters. I clock the exact moment his words get to her. Annie’s smile turns false. It’s too bright, to the point where it looks like it’ll start to crack around the edges. I’m half expecting her to break out into hysterical laughter.
My gaze drags back over to where Isa was standing and see she’s now approaching the man from the crowd.
Oh, hell no.
“Thanks so much, Annie, but I should really go hit the showers,” I rush out, cutting the interview short.
“No, thankyou, Fletch,” she replies, the relief to be wrapped up evident in her eyes. “Great game again.”
I hustle around behind the cameras to ditch the mic and earpiece with the sound techs in record time before I stride over toward Isa.
“Well look at you. You belong in someone’s bed, not playing dress up and acting like a bodyguard. Leave that to the men.”
I didn’t realize it was possible for your blood to both chill and heat at the same time, but that’s what happens at this creep’s words to Isa. Chilled at the implication but heated with rage.
I step up behind Isa, my chest barely brushing against her back. “You would do well to watch your words,” I grit out.
Isa turns to face me, eyes wide. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“I, um, only meant that she doesn’t look like what you would expect from someone working in security,” he stutters out.
This man is digging himself a grave with every word that comes out of his mouth.
I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow at him in challenge. “And what would someone like that look like?”
He blinks at me, eyes widening. “Well…” I narrow my eyes at him as he trails off. “A man,” he coughs out.
I turn my head to look at Isa, taking my time to rake my eyes over her body. In a respectful way, of course. I look back at the man but hitch my thumb out in Isa’s direction. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t think she’s a man. And for your information, she’s damn good at her job. You’d do well to understand she’s just as capable as a man, if not more.”
The man nods his head frantically, chastised. “Say, Fletch, think you could sign this ball for me?” he mumbles out, a ball extended toward me in his shaking hand.
