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Alison extended her hand and smiled at Mila with all of the trademark grace that Troy had come to expect from her. “Mila, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you from your brother.”
He smiled to himself. He’d have to thank her later for throwing in that comment. He was always grateful for any chance to raise himself in his sister’s estimation from “dorky older brother” to “guy who talks about how awesome I am to my favorite celebrity.”
Mila tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes a bit as she looked back and forth between Troy and Alison. After a moment, a mischievous expression took over her pixie features and she said, “Okay, well, I see Olive over there. I’m gonna go hang out with her. See ya later, bye!”
The last sentence was tossed over her shoulder as she took off toward the snack bar, and was spoken so quickly and mashed together so completely that, to Troy’s ears, it sounded more like “seeyalaterbye.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what to tell you. She was really excited to meet you, I swear. I don’t know what got into her.”
Alison returned his laugh. “I know exactly what got into her,” she replied. “She was bitten by the matchmaker bug.”
Troy smacked his palm to his forehead. “See? This is why I need you around. Someone has to interpret from teen girl to English.”
She sidled up to him, and her fingertips brushed his arm. In a low voice, she asked, “Is that the only reason you need me around?”
He reached up and brushed a stray lock of her hair away from her forehead. In a tone that was low, matching hers, he replied, “It’s not even in the top hundred.”
She flushed at his reply, and he had a powerful urge to kiss her. In fact, he would’ve, if not for the gathering crowd. He didn’t want to make a scene.
Of course, for his part, he would’ve shouted from the rooftops that they were seeing each other. He would’ve gathered the entire town for a festival in the town square to celebrate it and then capped off the festivities by giving her the longest and most passionate kiss in the world.
But he didn’t know if she was on the same page with all of that, and above all, he was determined to do what was best for her in any way he could, large and small. If that included refraining from locking lips at the batting cages in front of a crowd of people, as much as it was difficult to hold himself back, he would damn well do it.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of training to do.”
“I’m actually really nervous.”
“Nervous? Why?”
“Because what if I’m really terrible at it?”
“You’ve never gotten behind a bat before?”
“Well, not since… I don’t know. Maybe elementary school PE class.”
He nodded decisively. “Oh, well then there’s no what if about it. You’re going to be terrible. Just accept it.”
She threw her head back in a deep laugh. “What happened to you being the best teacher in the world?”
He winked. “Oh, I am. If you’d decided to put yourself in anyone’s hands but mine, you’d be terrible for a lot longer.”
She leaned up and whispered in his ear. The words playful but the tone held an underlying seduction. “I’d never put myself in anyone’s hands but yours, Mr. Valentine.”
Damn. He didn’t know if thinking about baseball was going to be enough.
When they stepped up to the plate in their cage, he said, “OK, now position your feet shoulder-width apart. Bend your knees, but keep them soft and supple. Extend your hips out behind you.”
She turned to him, her lips trembling with the obvious effort to tamp down a smile. “I’m so sorry. I swear to God, I’m taking this seriously. It’s just that every single word you just uttered sounded like a double entendre. And there are so many jokes running through my mind about what that was actually instructions for, instead of how to bat.”
He sighed. “I know. It’s a minefield. How are we going to solve it?”
She winked and said, “Hmmm…maybe some hands-on training might be in order?”
She turned and took her stance at the plate, glancing at him over her shoulder while she waited. He stepped to her, laid his hands lightly on her waist.
She smiled softly, her eyes flickering with a steady low burn. “Yeah,” she whispered. “This feels right.”
Shit, yeah. Thinking about baseball definitely wasn’t going to work.
