Page 78 of Elevator Pitch

“You’ll find it.”

“Is that your idea of a pep talk?” I tease.

“It can be any kind of speech you want, sweetheart. Just as long as you’re still talking to me.”

I melt a little into the pillow at my back, slouching down further beneath the bedcovers.

“Good game today,” I remind him, needing a change of subject.

“I didn’t see you there.” Ross now knows my seats are to the right of the dugout, off center from home plate, and roughly behind the WAGs—wives and girlfriends.

Laurel went to the second home opening game. I gave a set of tickets to Cassandra although I told her I wasn’t speaking to her. She only laughed and told me I could make her my maid of honor at my second wedding. She’s a funny one.

“Next one,” I promise him. As he said, he’ll be gone for a week with away games.

“And you’ll be sleeping at my place while I’m gone,” he reiterates, like it’s a done deal.

“We’ll see.” I sound like I did when my girls were little, giving them the canned response when the real answer was not going to happen.

“I’ll share my address with you. And send you the code to enter the place.”

Something about the ease in which he shares both these things with me settles deep within my chest. Because Ross is showing he trusts me. He’s telling me where he lives and offering me a key.

And his blind faith has me eventually accepting this generous invitation almost as easily as when I first agreed to sleep with him.

Chapter 26

[Ross]

If Vee won’t sleep in my bed with me, maybe she’ll sleep in my bed without me, which shouldn’t sound as nefarious as it does. I don’t have an ulterior motive. Having Vee in my life is the only win I need. There is just something about the idea of her in my bed that makes me rest easier. Like she’ll be safer or more comfortable or whatever the word would be to account for this feeling of wanting her in my home.

With back-to-back road games, Vee and I will be separated for another seven days, and we’re in a fragile place. She doesn’t trust me or the feelings I’ve confessed to her. I’m strictly in the friend-zone.

So, I’m surprised when a text comes through first thing in the morning as I’m walking to the locker room pre-game to our match up with Milwaukee.

If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on a change of view.

Nothing makes me happier than envisioning her in my home, and I’m quick to respond.

Mi casa es tu casa. Or mi cama es tu cama. I chuckle to myself as I repeat what she once said to me. My home is her home. My bed is her bed.

When she only responds with a smiley emoji, I’m crestfallen.

Then minutes before the game begins, waiting on warmups to start, another text from Vee comes through.

Can’t figure out the remote. Want to watch the game.

My chest swells again. Chandler never watched the games, and even when she attended them in person, she was more interested in being seen and who she would see than the game itself. Vee is actually invested in the games for me.

With quick instructions, I explain the remote.

Got it. Now, get your eyes on the ball, Coach.

With a chuckle, I click off the messenger app and slip my phone into my pocket. When I glance up, Kip is watching me.

“You called her, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” I brace to defend myself. “Why?”