Page 9

CHAPTER NINE

SILAS

I was no stranger to pressure or never letting anyone see me panic or break a sweat. When I had a baseball or a bat in my hand, I had to show that I had it all under control, no matter what kind of turmoil was simmering in my gut. I’d need that poker face even more as a manager, but after spending my entire life playing this game, I could handle it.

This, I had zero preparation for.

The woman who’d haunted my dreams and starred in all my dirty fantasies as of late was standing right in front of me. What happened between us wasn’t supposed to leave that hotel room, even if my mind drifted there all too often.

All I’d had of her was a pen name and a collection of books after we parted ways. It wasn’t even her real name, although now I was pretty sure she’d given me her actual first name after her boss referred to her as Rachel.

Writing an article about me would mean more time with her, something I’d wished like hell for a month ago. At the last minute, I’d scrambled to figure out a way to keep in touch after she left, but I hadn’t wanted to lead either of us on. Or the chickenshit in me hadn’t wanted to start another relationship that would inevitably end in failure.

I’d asked for her pen name instead, thinking that would give me something to go on if I ever grew the balls to find her but would still keep her at a comfortable distance.

I’d known then that more time with her would have only made things worse, but whether it was luck or fate or the universe simply laughing its ass off at me, I now had no choice.

“We’d like to get started right away so the article can coincide with opening day.”

My head swooped back to Gayle. I nodded, clearing my throat as I tried to reset myself, and hoped like hell neither Kent nor Gayle noticed our long handshake or the way I stared at her a little too long for an introduction.

As much as I tried to shake off the disbelief, I’d needed a minute to recover. I just prayed it wasn’t an obvious minute.

“The Bats have a lot to offer fans this season, and we are going to make sure to get you as many fans as possible.” Gayle waved her finger between Rachel and me. “You both can work out how you’ll meet. Kent, I’ll introduce you to some designers as they talk.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll start right away, Gayle.”

“That’s why she’s the best,” Gayle gushed as she squeezed Rachel’s shoulder.

I watched Kent and Gayle make their way to the concession stands before I stepped closer to Rachel.

“So, this is…” I started, lifting the baseball cap off my head to run my hand through my hair.

“Yes, it certainly is.” Her shoulders drooped with her long exhale.

“I didn’t expect to see you…here.”

Or period. I’d wondered if she’d seen any of the early press about me and what she’d say, but while I didn’t do anything wrong by deciding to keep my job and my full identity close to the chest since she’d done the same, I’d never anticipated actually having to explain.

“I’m sure,” she laughed, shaking her head. “This is my day job. I’m a writer for a PR agency when I’m not R.M. Dioro.”

“I never thought you had another job.”

“You saw me on a rare day off. This job pays the bills more than feeds my passion,” she said, flashing me a real smile, reminiscent of the ones from the day we’d first met. I remembered that smile, and that inclination to do anything just so I’d see it again pulsed in my fingers. But unlike our first meeting, I wasn’t free to give in.

Not here and not anywhere.

“Makes sense,” I finally said, my gaze snagging on that fucking beautiful mouth as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“And I didn’t know this was your job,” she said with a little chuckle as she looked around. “Or what your old job was. Explains why you said you used to train so much and were so happy to be eating tacos.”

“Yes, I was. When you play, you have to stay in shape. This job suits me since managers can let themselves go a little.” I patted my stomach.

“You didn’t let yourself go, not even close,” Rachel said, her eyes darting to the floor for a minute before they came back to mine. “I mean… I don’t know what I meant.”

That adorable blush stained her cheeks as she ran a hand down her face. My gaze traveled over the V neck of her silk blouse as memories I shouldn’t have been entertaining right now—or at all—ran through my brain. How she tasted, the sounds she made. The sweet way she’d said not getting to know me had been my brother’s loss.

The odd but very strong pull between us was still there, but as we were both at work and being watched, there was nothing either of us could do about it.

“I was just as surprised as you probably were when I noticed you.” Her smile faded as her gaze came back to mine. “But we have to keep it professional because?—”

“No need to explain.” I held up a hand. “I get it. When can you meet?”

“Well,” she said on a long sigh. “Gayle is going to want to see a first draft very quickly. Would you be able to talk tomorrow?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a white card. “That’s my card with my cell and email. Send me some times you’d be available, and I can set us up with a video chat link.”

“I’m free tomorrow. What about meeting in person?”

What was I doing? Torturing myself, most likely. I wouldn’t take it any further than a conversation, but if Rachel fell back into my life, I couldn’t walk away again without knowing her. The real her, not just skimming the surface like we’d both done with each other that day.

Other than the sex. That was deep and raw and so unforgettable I could barely think of anything else.

“Um, sure. We could do that. I would have to figure out a few things at home to give you a time to be able to come back here.”

“What if I came to you?” I raised my hands when her eyes grew wide. “I mean, closer to your neck of the woods.”

Her lips curved when I gave her a smile.

“I live in Park Slope. It would probably be easier for you if I came?—”

“How about a nice public place where I could give you whatever you need from me over a decent meal? PR hasn’t made me New York famous yet. And I should get to know Brooklyn as much as I can.”

She studied me for a long moment before she nodded.

“We could do that. Do you like Chinese? There’s a great restaurant about a block away from me. We could talk, and then I could head home and start on your article right away.”

This was getting much too close for professional comfort. Why couldn’t I just agree to a video chat or have her come here?

Maybe it was the gentleman in me not wanting to inconvenience her, remembering how she took care of her sister while she worked what I now knew were two jobs.

Or it was the confused caveman in me who didn’t want to share her—at least this last time I’d get to talk to her. But you couldn’t share someone who wasn’t yours and whom you didn’t really know. After I’d learned just how much I didn’t know her, the best thing to do would be to keep it all business.

“I’ll text you when I get back to the office, and you can text me back with the address, if that’s okay with you.”

“Sure. And one thing, don’t be nervous.”

“Nervous?”

She gave me a little eye roll when I squinted back at her.

“This isn’t like a hard-hitting journalism piece meant to expose all your secrets.”

Her smile turned playful, and I had to remind myself this was as close as I could get, and tasting her mouth one more time wasn’t an option.

“It’s my job to make you and the team look good and to show you in the best light possible.” She leaned in closer. “And I would never use anything you told me before. That is all off the record and doesn’t count unless you want it to,” she whispered.

“I know you wouldn’t, but I appreciate that,” I whispered back.

I might not have known much about her in her real, daily life, but we’d connected enough for me to sense the kind of person she was.

The kind that I couldn’t get out of my head, the kind that drew me in from the minute our eyes locked and made me regret watching her drive away because I was too scared to figure out a way to make room for anyone in my life but me.

Meeting her would be a tease, but I couldn’t resist. Rachel would be an itch I could never truly scratch, because if I got too close to her, I’d only want more—and there was no more for me to give.