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“Fine, fine,” Fisher interrupts before I can finish. “You know where the batting cages are. Practice field is free, so just shoot me a text when you’re ready to head out, and I’ll lock up behind you.”
“Thanks, Fisher. I owe you one,” I tell him, taking Caroline’s hand and tugging her to me. “Maybe I’ll come onCall Him Mommy.”
The damn podcast he’s been begging me to come on for the last year, which I’ve declined. Every single time.
“Hey, don’t say that shit cuz I’ll hold you to it.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “How about awe’ll see. Thanks again.”
“Nice to meet you, Caroline. Maybe I’ll see you at a game this season.” Fisher smiles as he walks backward down the hallway.
“Maybe so.”
Once he’s gone, I look at Caroline, who’s gazing around the practice facility with stars in her eyes. “What do you think?”
“Pretty sure this is going to be the best ‘friends who have hot sex and are spending the day together’ ever,” she breathes excitedly.
Even though my stomach drops at yet another mention of how casual this is, I say, “Not sure if that’s really a thing, Bubblegum, but if not, we’ll make it one.”
I try not to let it bother me as we walk hand in hand through the facility, me pointing out random facts that I’ve learned over the last few years from Fisher, and Caroline nodding along quietly as she takes it all in. When we get to the batting cage, I let her pick out which cage she wants.
“This one,” she says, landing on the very last cage in the warehouse-sized room. The place is the size of three Costcos, with at least twenty rows of cages spanning the wall.
I turn the machine on and set it on a fairly low speed since I haven’t actually hit a fucking ball since I was a kid. Ninety-mile-per-hour fastballs are not my thing, only fast pucks. Trust me when I say they are two different things.
“Ready?” I ask, plucking a helmet off the shelf and handing it to her along with a bat.
She looks fucking adorable in a bright red helmet and a matching bat. “Hell yes. This is incredible!”
When she practices her swing, she gets so excited that the bat slips from her hand, almost taking out my entire damn eye with the bat as it flies my way.
I duck at the last minute, and it hits the fence behind me with a loud clink.
Her eyes widen. “Shit, I’m sorry. Shit.” She rushes over, her small hands fisting in my shirt. “I may have gotten a little too excited. Sorry!”
“Bubblegum, it’s fine. Remember that time that guy ran into you and almost knocked you the fuck over the first time you met?”
Her smile turns from a frown, only slightly. “Oh yeah, he was a real asshole. Hot, but definitely an asshole.”
I wrap my arms around her and pinch her butt, finally getting the smile back out of her. “Let’s play. I want to see how hard you can hit that ball. I’ve seen you fling the bat… but I wanna see you hit the ball.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she pecks my lips with a feigned annoyed eye roll and grabs the bat, taking her position. I slip out of the cage and hit the button to start it, and then I sit back and watch…
She misses every single one.
But not from lack of trying. She swings like she’s standing in the middle of a stadium surrounded by fifty thousand people and this is her shot at the championship.
After several minutes, she finally almost clips one. But when it hits the fence behind her, instead of her getting frustrated and giving up, she lifts her chin, squares her shoulders, and holds the bat even higher, ready to go again.
It makes my chest swell with pride. She could easily give up and said fuck it, but nah.
Not my Bubblegum.
Caroline Evans is the girl who looks shit in the eye and says fuck you. And swings again.
“Raise your elbow a little, baby,” I tell her through the fence. She follows my instructions, standing tall as the ball flies down the tunnel toward her.
BAM.
