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"Can I be honest with you?"
"Aren’t you always?"
She had the decency to offer him a guilty shrug before continuing her line of thought. "Ok, when they first started talking about you as captain, I didn’t see it. You have that whole Bad Boy of Baseball reputation, the ultimate Maverick. I just thought maybe you weren’t the…the leader type. But I definitely see a different side of you now. A softer side."
"Soft? Oh great, that’s exactly the look ball players are going for."
"You know what I mean. Even you can admit that you’re a lot more relaxed and carefree off the field than you are on. Plus, you’re kind. You don’t get your kicks from hurting people."
Landon’s gaze narrowed in on her. "Hurting? Who are you talking about? This ex of yours?"
She blew him off. "No, nobody specific, I just mean, the way you are with kids and fans. Most of the players are not that nice, and when they are, they’re so fake about it. I honestly expected you to be more like that, based on your reputation. So I’m just kinda confused. I totally get intensity and focus on the field, but why the fighting and the arguing and breaking stuff? Has the ump ever once changed his call because you argued with him?"
Landon grunted, then an awkward silence lingered long enough for Katie to start formulating an apology.
"Shit, I don’t know why I do it," he finally said. "I guess because I’ve always been rewarded for that kind of stuff. Not at home; my dad reams my ass every time I step out of line. But everyone else? They’ve always loved it. I get ejected from a game in high school and every girl in school wants to comfort me at the after party. I get into it with the mascot at a college game, the video goes viral and suddenly I’m fielding calls from agents left and right. Two months later, I’m in the minors where they love that shit. Anything to draw a crowd. Hell, even in the pros they eat it up. The big wigs at the clubs always sit me down before they sign me, give me the speech about how they’re taking a chance on me because they see potential despite my reputation as a troublemaker. That I need to be toeing the line. They give a shit what I do when I’m hitting above thirty percent."
He put his ice cream down and ran a hand through his already messy hair. He was so sexy it took her breath away. So sexy she wanted to run over and comfort him for the pain she’d just caused with her questioning. She hadn’t really been expecting an explanation for his behavior, but he’d given a pretty revealing one. She needed him to know that she understood.
"I get it," she said. "Even as a baseball fan, I had no idea until I started this job how much of a show it really is. Especially nowadays with social media and WAGs and reality television. You’re not a player, you’re a brand, and I see it getting to the point where a player’s skill may not be the deciding force. If he has two million Instagram followers, is that more valuable to the team then his ability to hit or field? What if his wife has fifty million? Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, but some days I wish I was still blind to that whole part of it. I miss baseball with my dad, when it felt like it was just about the game. There was a…a purity."
When she finally quit rambling and looked up at Landon, he was sitting on the countertop, hands braced next to his thighs, eyes locked somewhere on the kitchen floor, his only response a tiny nod and a grunt that he’d heard her.
She fumbled to clarify herself. "I guess what I’m trying to say is I see how easy it must be for you to get caught up in all that hype because, well, you kinda have to. It comes with the job of being a pro baseball player. But that’s a show, Landon. That’s not who you are. I’ve seen that for myself."
"Or maybe I’m just not that way when I’m around you."
Heat flooded Katie’s veins, but she cooled it with another big bite of ice cream before she shot back, "Come on, you can’t tell me I’m the only person that’s noticed this about you. Stella Rhodes certainly did."
The name had kinda tumbled out, but once it was out there, Katie couldn't help but gauge his reaction.
Landon’s dark brows came together. "Who? What Stella? The photographer?"
"Yeah, that Stella," she shot back dryly, along with a look that said,you're not fooling me, bub.
"What about her?" he asked.
Katie gave a half shrug as if she couldn’t care less. "She just mentioned last night that you’re way different off the field than on."
It was Landon’s turn to lift a shoulder. "Huh, I guess. We only did that one photo shoot. We got along fine."
Katie’s eyebrows shot up. "Really? Because she very clearly insinuated that she’s seen you naked and been to your apartment."
"Half true," Landon admitted. "She insisted on doing the portrait shoot at my place. Said she gets better energy from people in their personal space or whatever. Yeah, she got me down to my underwear for some of the photos, but I’ve done more risqué shots for a deodorant ad."
"Okay, whatever you say," she said around another bite of ice cream.
"I didn’t fuck her if that’s what you're asking."
His blue eyes lasered in on her until Katie understood why rookie pitchers notoriously dreaded Landon Ryan’s turn at the plate. She didn’t hold out more than a few seconds.
"Fine, not Stella then, but you’ve dated your fair share of women. Surely at least some have gotten to know the sweet side of Landon Ryan."
"Yeah well, ‘dated’ doesn’t necessarily equate to ‘getting to know.’ Especially not when it’s a relationship put together by your publicists."
Katie’s eyebrows shot up, her next bite of ice cream forgotten. "Are you saying you’ve been in a contracted relationship? With who?"
"Oh geez."
