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“Not a thing.” Danny chuckles.
“Sorry we’re late,” Whitley Paul says from behind us, and I turn around.
Behind her are all five of her kids, Gwen York, and Marks, whose name I just recently learned was Zane.
I quickly look at Chloe because if Zane Marks is here, he’s not in California.
She gives me an it’s okay look. It doesn’t feel okay, though.
Danny nudges me. “They’ve got a guy in California.”
“Two,” York says from behind me, and I turn to look at her. “You good with Marks crashing at your place for a couple of days if he needs a break from Pope and Whit’s place?”
“Of course.”
I turn and smile at the sound of Francesca’s voice and see her, Fawna, and Dromida in front of me.
“But, bitch, we miss you.”
“No reason to stay away.” Danny chuckles. “But we’re rolling out Friday.”
“You’re sitting with us Friday, Saturday, and Sunday then.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Whitney laughs. “I called dibs last night.”
“Not for nothing, Mrs. Pope, but she ditched us to hang with you all at Monday night’s game. I’m not sure my fragile ego will come back from a whole week.” Fawna pouts.
I laugh and glance at Dromida. “Hey, D.”
She smiles back and quirks a brow, tipping her head ever so slightly to Marks.
I lift my chin. “I’ll get details if I can.”
She winks at me.
“About what?” Fawna asks, glancing between us.
Francesca wraps an arm around her. “I’ll tell you over there.”
The announcer comes over the sound system, welcoming everyone. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the home of the Jersey Jaguars! This is Cole Johnson, and I’m thrilled to be here with you tonight, broadcasting live from the banks of the Delaware River, in the heart of Trenton, New Jersey, at the brand-new complex, Revolutionary Field. Let’s welcome our hometown men to the field!”
“Intermission.” Fawna points to me before they head to their seats.
“There is no intermission in baseball,” I call after them, but they don’t hear me.
Danny leans over. “Isn’t that Roman’s family over there with the Steel crew?”
I glance over and see them all looking in our direction. Hudson waves his foam finger at me, and I wave back. I turn away just in time to see the Jags coming out of the dugout. I stand along with everyone around me and cheer with the rest of the stadium, which is even more full of Jags fans tonight than last time.
I look over and smile as I see Aggie all caught up in the moment, clapping and cheering, too. I want to tell her one day that she has the best mom in the world, because she does. It saddens me that I don’t remember the woman who showed her how to be that.
When I look back at the field, something happens in my chest. My heart, an irregular beat? I hold my hand over it as Roman jogs out to second base, confidence exuded in every step. His uniform fits him perfectly. From his biceps to his broad back, his thick thighs, and even the slope of his muscular calves. Basically, every bulging muscle. And that ass of his? It’s spectacular. And I’ve never been an ass girl. Just one more thing I need to add to my ever-growing list of things I want in a man—a list that I’m not sure I ever truly had until Roman Hart moved in next door.
You’d think, after all the bases we’ve rounded, I wouldn’t still be fantasizing about him. But those fantasies? They’ve just intensified. The thoughts that have been swimming in my head for the past few days are ridiculous. Like, who am I, and what has happened to me? Those thoughts, they happen randomly, like right now. The way his hair peeks out from under his ball cap is even X-rated, reminding me just how it felt in my hands and against my thighs.
I am so screwed.
Last night, I fell asleep with his words on replay in my head.
