Page 72 of Bad Run

Reed, Blake, Cam, Talia, Heath and his wife Grace, Nico with his girlfriend Savannah, and his mother, aunt, and cousins lean in with excited smiles, ready to hear our story.

All eyes are on me, and I hate it. Being the center of attention is my least favorite thing. My heart rate shoots through the roof. I decide to rip off the band-aid and move this along so we can get the hell out of here.

“Gwen is the woman from the night of the World Series,” I confess.

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Cam says.

“Yeah, lurker,” Nico teases.

Gwen looks up at me with her aqua eyes, curious about Nico’s comment. I don’t need Gwen to know how obsessed I’ve been with her these last couple of months.

“I knew it!” Reed interrupts.

“You were so obvious, Mr. Moony Eyes,” Blake teases, batting his eyelashes.

The table erupts in laughter.

I point to the corner of the restaurant. “Shut it, or I’m going to make you sit over there alone.”

Blake scrunches his nose in disgust. “Rude.”

“Ignore him. Please continue,” Talia says.

“And don’t bullshit us,” Cam says.

“Yeah. If you want us to have your back, then you owe us the truth,” Nico follows up.

I glance down at Gwen. “Do you trust me?”

She nods. I look back at my friends and tell them the truth.

How Gwen and I met and hooked up the night we won the World Series and then lost contact, and I was surprised to see her at the stadium weeks later. I’m marrying Gwen to help her get the promotion she deserves.

I also fill them in on the story we plan to sell to Ted, the team, and the media, as well as the plans I have arranged for tonight.

Every single one of them is on board. Not that I had doubts. My teammates have my back, and now Gwen’s.

Sadness washes over me for a second as I realize how much I miss my family. But it’s quickly replaced with gratefulness. My teammates are my best friends. These guys would do anything for me, and I for them.

My brothers in baseball.

As promised, Gwen trusts me to tell my friends the full story. I find it interesting that she doesn’t bring up how our marriage is temporary.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always. There’s no one else I’d want to pretend marry,” she whispers, her pretty aqua eyes shining.

Her cheeky comment irks me, grating on my skin like sandpaper.

Needing to shove that irritation away, I place a tender kiss on her forehead, relishing the way chills race up her spine and the skin on the back of her neck pimples.

Pretend marriage, my ass, little witch.

“Same, babe.” I smirk, placing my hand on hers and running my thumb over her ring again.

Hope you’re ready for the truth to set you free.

twenty-four