Page 104 of Elevator Pitch

“Get your ass in the locker room,” Dalton Ryatt yells at Valdez. Dalton has good rapport with the guys, and at times, he’s the only one who can handle a hothead. Sometimes I worry he might make a better head coach.

Valdez doesn’t lower his head but holds it higher, as he steps away from the wall. But he can’t let the situation rest and turns his head, spitting at the cement floor inches in front of Adler’s feet.

“Pendejo,” Valdez mutters. Asshole.

Adler struggles beneath the hold of both Kip and another catcher, Cyrus Sawyer.

Dalton shakes his head as he follows behind Romero. As they leave, all the air seems to exit the tunnel.

“Coach, you need to do something about him,” Adler addresses me.

“I’m handling him.” But am I? One bad pitch doesn’t ruin a game. But repeatedly bad throws? That player needs re-coaching or to be let go.

“Are you calm yet?” Kip asks Bolan, stepping back and holding up a hand near Bolan’s chest, prepared to hold him back again if necessary.

“Yeah. I’m good.” But the edge in his voice suggests he’s anything but calm. We could use a few more minutes in this tunnel to settle him down, not to mention give time for Valdez to clear out of the locker room.

I don’t want to be babysitter to a bunch of grown men, but I can prevent shenanigans from happening in that room. I’ll need to be more vigilant and discuss this new infraction with my coaching staff.

I’d like to offer encouraging words to Bolan. Tell him that Valdez didn’t mean what he said or that he won’t go near Bolan’s wife, but I can’t make those kinds of promises.

Instead, I say, “Let me know what you need. For Ruth.”

Bolan stares at me. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re worried about her. Him getting anywhere near her, I’ll file a restraining order myself, if you need me to.”

Bolan bitterly huffs. “Yeah, I don’t think that will be necessary. He’s just talking shit. But that shit needs to stop.” My catcher still looks rattled by Romero’s words despite trying to dismiss them.

While I think his sudden marriage feels a bit too coincidental to the start of the season and a need to clean up his reputation, I don’t question my men’s personal lives unless it interferes with the team.

Romero has disrupted this team enough. He’s crossed the line to foul territory and there might be no coming back.

Chapter 32

[Vee]

Ross greets me at his door in a pair of joggers and a white T-shirt, but we don’t get much further than this entryway before his hands cup my face and he kisses me. His tongue rushes forward, slinking against mine as the kiss deepens.

“How are you feeling?” he mutters against my mouth.

“Good?” I giggle. Then, I realize he means my headache from last night. He already messaged me this morning to ask how I was feeling. “Better.”

That answer satisfies him, and his mouth returns to mine, the kiss overwhelming. My tote slips from my arm, landing with a thud on the floor before I wrap my arms around his neck, leaning into the kiss more. Ross presses forward, pinning me against the front door, his large body flush with mine.

“This is quite the greeting,” I tease, unprepared for such a welcome to his house and wondering what’s gotten into him.

Ross stares into my eyes a second before leaning back and gently pulling me from the door by holding my hand. “Want a drink?” Still holding onto me, he leads me into his kitchen, and I stop near the large island, in the spot where I’d spent a few days finding inspiration to write within his home.

“This is where the magic happened.” I whisper for some reason.

“What magic?”

“Words.”

Ross stops abruptly as well and steps behind me. His arms wrap around my waist, and he presses his face into my neck, peppering me with kisses there. I tilt my head, the tender touch exciting.

“What do you mean?”