Page 10

10

Knox

His question caught me off guard. While I’d recently started to realize I was developing feelings for Stratton, I hadn’t given much thought to what might have been going through his mind.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he looked around and shook his head. Likely noticing we were out in the open and someone could possibly overhear us.

“We can talk in my room,” he said as we walked toward the hotel entrance.

The doors slid open, and we made our way over to the elevators. A couple followed us inside, ensuring the ride up remained silent.

Once we were finally locked in his room, he grabbed a small bottle of vodka from the minibar and tossed it back. “Want one?” He shook the now empty bottle.

“Nah.” I picked up a water from the counter and twisted it open before asking, “What did you mean by ‘this changes things’ for us?”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know. If I’m going to be a dad, I need to focus on the kid. Not …” He trailed off, staring at his feet.

I stepped closer to him. “Not what?”

“Not messing around with a teammate.”

Logically, I knew messing around was what we were doing. My position on the team was temporary, and when Long came off the IL, we’d likely go our separate ways. But what we were doing had started to feel like more than hooking up—at least it had for me. I had no idea how Stratton was feeling.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Do you want to be with her?”

His head jerked back. “What? No. That night was a one-time thing. Hell, I can’t even remember her name.”

I crossed my arms. “Are you planning on never dating again if you end up having a kid?”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “No.”

“Okay. If you’re not getting back with her and don’t plan on staying celibate for the next eighteen years, what exactly needs to change between us?”

He dropped onto the bed. “Nothing, I guess. I just thought you wouldn’t want to get caught up in my drama.”

“I get where you’re coming from.” I sat next to him and flashed him a smile. “But what you need to understand is, if I don’t want to do something, then I won’t do it. If I wanted to end …” I hesitated, trying to think of the best way to describe our situation, but came up empty. “End this, I’d tell you. But don’t make assumptions and use that as an excuse to stop hooking up. Unless that’s actually what you want to do.”

He placed his hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbing back and forth. “Is this still just hooking up?”

I let out a breath. “That’s how it started out.”

“And now?”

“We have a lot of fun together, and I’m not just talking about the sex stuff. I look forward to seeing you every day and spending time with you, which sucks because I know this isn’t permanent,” I admitted, choosing to be honest about how I was feeling and knowing we only had a short amount of time until Long returned.

“Because you might get sent back to New Mexico?”

“There isn’t really a spot for me once Long comes back.”

He sighed. “I hate thinking about you leaving.”

“Me too.”

We sat in silence for a moment, then he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “The other guys are going to have questions tomorrow about why you left with me.”

“Are you mad?”

He shook his head. “Not mad, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not worried about them suspecting something.”

I squeezed his leg. “Odds are they’ll have forgotten about it by the morning, but if someone does ask, I’ll tell them about my friend who had some woman claim he fathered her baby, and I was just giving you some advice.”

He lifted a brow. “You had a friend knock up a one-night stand?”

“No.” I chuckled. “But I can be very convincing.”

He grinned, and I caught the way his eyes instantly dropped to my mouth. He wrapped his hand around the side of my neck. “Oh yeah. I could use some convincing that you really want to keep doing this.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” I breathed, my heart beating faster as we both leaned in.

Our lips brushed softly before I tangled my fingers in his dark hair and pulled him closer. My tongue explored his mouth, which tasted faintly like vodka. I couldn’t get enough of him.

Pushing him back, I straddled his lap, and he groaned against my mouth. The kiss turned hungrier, and I tugged at the hem of his shirt, desperate to touch his bare skin. He flipped us over, so I was lying flat on my back. Our breaths came in quick pants as we removed each other’s clothes, not rushing, but not exactly taking our time either. My fingers skimmed over the hard muscles of his chest and abs as I arched my hips to grind against him .

“You drive me crazy.” He nipped my jaw and slid a hand between us to wrap his fingers around my aching dick.

At that point, I couldn’t think of anything other than how much I liked being with him, and wishing our situation was different so we’d have more time to get to know each other better.

As soon as I walked into the hotel’s restaurant, the scent of coffee and bacon hit me, and my stomach growled. It was buffet-style, so I grabbed a plate and loaded it with scrambled eggs, roasted potatoes, crispy bacon, and some fruit.

With my breakfast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, I spotted my teammates gathered around a long table near the back and headed their way.

Glancing around, I noticed Stratton hadn’t come down yet. Or maybe he’d already eaten and gone back to his room.

“Morning, Singleton. Sleep okay last night?” Davenport’s question sounded casual, but I noticed something in his eyes I couldn’t quite read.

“Sure did,” I replied, taking a seat.

As always, I’d slipped out of Stratton’s room last night shortly after we’d had sex and gone back to mine without anyone noticing. And as soon as I’d crawled into bed, I’d passed out.

Neal grinned at me from a couple of seats away. “What was up with you leaving the bar with Stratton?”

I swallowed a bite of eggs. “Just wanted to make sure he was good after that bombshell last night. Had a buddy of mine go through something similar a while back. Figured I could pass along some advice.”

“So, you’re the designated life coach for the team now?” Latham chuckled and popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “You can give me whatever title you want. I’m just trying to be a good teammate.”

“Uh-huh.” Davenport smirked. “You sure you don’t have a little crush on our catcher?”

I shrugged. “He should be so lucky.”

That had the guys rolling.

“All right. Let’s stop giving him a hard time. Stratton probably did need someone to help him keep his shit together,” Payne said.

A few minutes later, the man we’d been talking about strolled in, his dark T-shirt clinging to the broad chest my hands had been all over the night before. It took everything in me not to stare at him.

The energy around the table changed from lighthearted teasing to concern for a guy many considered a friend.

“You doing okay this morning?” Payne asked as Stratton pulled out the empty chair next to me. “Last night’s news had to be a lot to take in.”

Stratton nodded. “Yeah. The whole situation is complicated, and who knows how it’s all going to play out. For now, my focus is on our team and making sure we continue winning games.”

“Well, we’ve got your back, no matter what,” Latham said.

Stratton gave him a small smile. “Appreciate that.”

The conversation turned to our upcoming game and how we all planned to spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon before we needed to head to the stadium.

I continued to eat, trying not to react when Stratton squeezed my knee under the table. It was a brief touch, but it showed he wouldn’t keep trying to put distance between us like I felt he had the night before. And for now, that little bit of reassurance was more than enough.

It was the top of the ninth, and we were beating the Padres 5-2. Everything was working tonight. We were playing clean defense, several teammates reached base, and Torres had been lights-out on the mound.

I’d already gotten two hits and a walk earlier in the game, and it was my turn at the plate again—this time with the bases loaded. We had the lead, but if the Padres rallied, they could make things interesting, so we couldn’t hold back.

Glancing toward our third base coach, he gave me the sign to swing away.

I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders to stay loose, and took a practice cut before settling into the batter’s box.

The first pitch came in high and tight, brushing me back a step. I didn’t think it was intentional because their reliever had been struggling with his command since the start of the inning.

The next pitch was a fastball right down the middle, and I didn’t hesitate to swing. The bat made solid contact with the ball, and I watched it sail through the air as I took off for first. The right fielder tracked it to the wall, but it soared several feet over his head.

A grand slam.

I slowed a bit, and when I rounded third, I knew I was sporting a huge grin. Stratton, along with Davenport and Latham, who had also been on base, were waiting for me at home. The second I crossed the plate, they pulled me in for congratulatory hugs.

“That was a hell of a hit.” Stratton smacked my ass, smiling almost as big as I was. “You’ve been on fire tonight.”

Back in the dugout, I received more high-fives and helmet slaps. Finally showing my teammates what I was capable of felt good.

During the next play, I walked to the large cooler and filled a paper cup with Gatorade. Stratton stood beside me, waiting to get his own. I started to move away, but he stepped closer.

No one was next to us or looking our way and the cameras were once again focused on the action on the field.

“You looked good out there,” he whispered. “And I’m not just talking about the swing.”

My face flushed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the running I’d done or his words. He was always cautious—worried others might find out his secret—so his flirting, however covert it was, showed he was letting go a little bit, and I loved it.

But he wasn’t done.

“You might want to save some of that energy for later, though.” He winked and turned back toward the bench like he hadn’t said anything.

If things between us were a game, his wink would have been the scoring run. But it wasn’t a game. It hadn’t been for a while, and from our conversation the night before, he didn’t see it that way either.

Tonight, I finally started to believe I belonged in the majors.

And maybe I belonged with Crew Stratton too.