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A shadow fell over the both of us, and we looked up together to see a hulking Optimus standing over us. I had to blink a couple of times to focus with the light, but I finally managed to make out the serious expression on his face. He nodded his head to where Ham was standing at the end of the cage chatting with Har. “He needs to go back to the club before he rips out his stitches.”
“I know,” I answered, completely aware as I itched to walk over there and drag him out.
Which I would have done had I not been desperately trying to avoid him.
My head was still reeling from this morning.
My heart trying to keep up too.
If I talked to him again right now, I’m not sure which would lead the conversation, and I was kind of scared for both.
Op reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, jingling them in front of my face and pulling my attention back to him. “I’ll give them to Chelsea. You convince him and drive him home.”
“Op—”
He raised his brow, the simple gesture from a man like Optimus enough to make me shut my mouth. I may have been upset and angry at the club for keeping so many secrets from me, but that didn’t change how much I respected this man. He was the president of the club for a reason, and he deserved to be listened to.
I huffed an annoyed breath out my nose, and he nodded, assuming that meant I was agreeing—reluctantly before he turned and walked away. With an irritated sigh, I leaped off the picnic table and stomped toward the batting cages, ignoring Chelsea chuckling behind me. Yanking the gate open, I slammed it closed behind me.
Both Harlyn and Ham looked up from their celebrating and high-fiving as I walked toward them.
“Hey, Har, maybe it would be okay if we give Meyah a turn?” Ham reasoned with the eight-year-old, who pursed her lips tightly as if she might refuse. She eventually sighed, pulling off the helmet and handing it to Ham with the bat.
“Okay, I’m gonna go challenge Dad to a game of Putt-Putt.” She came toward me, stopping right in front of me and folding her arms across her chest. She was Op’s daughter, there was no fucking doubt about it. She knew she held a certain type of power and a level of respect within the club. She was a princess, and trust me when I said she fucking knew it. “Don’t be mean to him.”
I had to stop myself from laughing because I knew she was dead fucking serious.
She held my gaze for a few long seconds.
“Harlyn,” I heard Op’s deep voice call, the both of us looking over to see him hanging on the fence. “Leave Meyah alone. Come on. I’m ‘bout to kick your butt at Putt-Putt.”
Harlyn scoffed loudly. “Think again, old man.”
I was quickly forgotten, her competitive nature coming out as she ran for the exit while her father gave me a pointed look before turning away to follow her.
“Meyah!” Ham’s voice sent butterflies fluttering around my stomach.
I took a deep breath, turning my attention to where he stood, the baseball bat resting on his shoulder at the end of the cages. He flicked his chin up. “Come on, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I walked toward him, shaking my head. “I’ve got my orders,” I told him as I walked closer. The cages had five different square fenced boxes at one end, each with home plates in them, so multiple kids could practice at once. Not today, though, because the club had booked out the entire place. I stepped into the fenced cube where he was waiting. “Op said you need to go back to the clubhouse before you rip your stitches out.”
He raised his eyebrow but didn’t move, even hearing the orders from his president. “You hit one pitch, and I’ll go.”
“You’re kidding, right? Did you not hear me? Op said you ha—”
“I heard you,” he cut in, taking a step closer to me. “And I’ll go. But I just want to see you hit a pitch first. I’ll even give you a few pointers.”
I gritted my teeth, holding my ground and wondering when he got so damn fucking annoying. Had he always been like this, and I’d just seen it differently before? So much of a smart ass, so self-assured? Did it only annoy me now because I was trying to fight the attraction and not think his playful nature was cute?
And kind of sexy.
Argh!
Goddammit.
I wasn’t going to let him win. Certainly not when I knew the whole club was paying attention to us. I wasn’t stupid. They might be playing with the kids and talking amongst themselves, but their eyes were and truly focused on our interaction.
“One pitch and you get in Op’s truck, and I take your ass back and dump you at the clubhouse?” I finally bargained, fighting the urge to just turn and walk away when a smug smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
