Page 11

ARIANA GRANDE & CYNTHIA ERIVO

“W as it my imagination or did Jamie and I dance last night?” The sunlight was entirely too bright as I made my way out of the tunnel and onto the field. I was fairly certain I went easy on the alcohol, on account of the routine work I had planned for today. That was until Jamie actually showed up at the bar last night. After that, things got a little fuzzy.

My strained question drew a snort out of Tiffiny as she walked beside me.

“Had I not known the history between you two I would have said you did everything but dance.”

For fucks sake.

“Don’t you fucking dare…”

“Girl, that was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen two people do with clothes on .”

Groaning, I threw my hands up to my face. How much alcohol had I consumed? I thought everything that happened last night was all a dream. A glorious, steamy sort of dream. Or maybe I was stuck in an outright denial that we had come this close to kissing.

“That dancing was almost Dancing with the Stars worthy. Or a porno. Except that was a hell of a lot better acting than any porno I’ve ever seen.” She outright deserved an elbow jab to the ribs for that side note.

I vaguely remembered doing some heavy grinding against Jamie last night. “Jamie was paying rapt attention to whatever you were saying to him.” I rolled my eyes. “And look. Mr. Hunky Pants seems to be eagerly awaiting you today too.”

My stomach did a funny topsy-turvy thing. Or maybe the alcohol was ready to make a reappearance? I glanced out towards the guys on the field and happened to catch Jamie maybe glancing in my direction.

“You mean Mr. Grumpy Pants. The man hates being here and hates what I make him do every damn day. It's like pulling teeth to even get him to smile.” I ignored the fact that I got Jamie to smile no less than seven times last night. But who was counting?

“I don’t know, he was doing some semblance of smiling last night with you.” Heat hit my cheeks. It felt like my best friend could read my thoughts. Tiffiny’s fingers danced along the brim of her ball cap as she adjusted it. “Maybe you just need to do some of that mattress mambo dance with him instead.” I gave her another swift elbow in the ribs to which she responded with a backhand against my shoulder.

“There’s no fucking way–”

“Cadence, for the last few years all I’ve heard from you is how hot Jamie’s butt is and how luscious his biceps are. Among other things. Now’s your chance to finally see what he’s really like under the uniform.”

“Oh right.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure ownership would be thrilled if I went up to him and offered, ‘Oh hey Jamie, wanna come back to my place for private dance lessons?’.”

“See? Now we’re on the same page.”

“Absofuckinglutely not.” Stopping mid-step, I turned to her. In the time that I’ve known her, I knew she was not going to drop this subject until she’d proven herself right. It was an admirable quality to her, but I didn’t have enough of my brain cells working this morning to fight back. “Aside from the fact the man is a baseball god, ownership would have a fucking field day. No man is worth me losing my job over. Not even the hottest man in baseball.”

“Hey well if the man ever looks at you again like he did last night, you’ll be on your knees. You’d be saying ‘Tiffiny was right’ but I have a feeling that your mouth will be full with–”

I was about 2.3 seconds away from slapping that smug ass look off her face. Just because she played the mascot and didn’t speak during games, it didn’t mean she didn’t have two tons of attitude. Even with her being my friend, it wasn’t below me to put her in a headlock. Her only saving grace was Ender who managed to step between us.

“Hey, Tiffiny.”

“Get bent.” She spat with such venom. Rather shocked at her visceral attitude change, I cocked my brow at her in silent question. My eyes flickered between the two. Typically, she was always a bit hostile to the players. But for some reason, Ender pulled a vicious kind of vitriol from her. Almost constantly. But today was especially wicked.

“Nice to see you too.” From the tone of his voice, I could tell he was even taken by surprise. He looked a bit apprehensive to continue the conversation, lest he receive another verbal snap. Proverbially licking his wounds, he turned to me. “Um…hey Cadence. I have to grab my water bottle, but I’ll be right out.”

Once he was out of earshot I shot a look at Tiffiny. “The fuck was that about?”

“None of your fucking business.” Muttering her response, she stormed out the last few feet of the tunnel and onto the field. The way she stomped off left me scratching my head. Was it a full moon or something? Practice was going to be real fucking awkward if I was going to have to deal with Tiffiny, Ender, Jamie, and whatever the hell happened last night.

The guys were out on the field doing some warm-up stretches. Today was the last day before Jamie’s big debut. With his performance last night, there was a flicker of hope within me that he wouldn’t crash and burn as epically as I thought he would. I was easing him into it, and I’d be right in the dugout to encourage him.

As I walked towards the outfield, Truitt and Camden were mid-stretch, but I was fairly certain they were sneaking in a nap on the warm grass. Usually, when we all went out as a group, they were the ones that partied the hardest. Sliding my sunglasses down onto my nose, I pinched the bridge of my nose in a vain effort to quell the headache that was brewing.

I definitely had my hands full today.

If I could, I’d be on the grass right next to the guys, snoring away in the early sunlight. I wasn’t really in the mood to attempt to nail down a new routine for tomorrow’s game and play babysitter to everyone. So, we were going to go in, nice and easy with a few run-throughs of tomorrow’s dancing interludes. The last thing I needed was for someone to get maimed at practice. And by everyone’s apparent current attitude, I would be the one doing the maiming.

Thank fuck some semblance of the routine managed to nestle into the brains of the team. Even after a night out at the bar, they pulled out three mostly flawless run throughs from out of their asses. But it was a hell of a rocky start. For a while there I felt like I was trying to teach cats. Inbred cats. Inbred cats that had spent the night festering in tubs of beer.

After practice, I was in desperate need of painkillers and an entire jug of electrolytes. I escaped into my office to eat lunch and maybe a quick snooze on my couch while the guys did their fieldwork practice.

Instead of zonking out after picking at my lunch, all I could do was pace. The guys had enthusiastically suggested that since Jamie did such a great job last night, that maybe he needed one more session of pointers before his big day. Apparently, everyone had seen us dancing together the night before. And the guys thought it was a good idea for Jamie to have another round of solo dance lessons after practice today.

With me.

My heart had been in my throat, choking me out like a morally gray character in a dark romance ever since the guys brought it up in conversation. Me, alone with Jamie? Last night had been a tipsy fluke. All of our practices and dance outings had been with the entire team and me. Never Jamie and I alone . I hadn’t even come close to mentally preparing myself for such an endeavor. Now I only had minutes left to pull my fucking shit together enough to get through an hour or two of just me and Jamie.

Even though I was losing my shit over it, one-on-one lessons were probably a smart idea. Jamie had only shown minor improvement in the group setting of choreography practice. He blossomed at the bar last night when it felt like we were the only two people in the entire building.

I hoped that without eyes around, Jamie would be more willing to comply with the private lesson. Maybe this would be a repeat of last night. And maybe, just maybe, if and when we did get close, we wouldn’t be interrupted .

The look on his face as he sauntered back onto the field looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. Great. Tiffiny had been blowing smoke up my ass. She probably got our dancing chemistry confused with whatever she’d been reading in her cartoon cover romance book at the bar.

“Hey Jamie, I’m glad–”

“Let's just get this over with.”

His unenthusiastic mumble made me bristle. I felt that little balloon of hope deflate with an exaggerated raspberry noise as it zoomed around my insides. Of course. Last night had just been an alcohol-induced hallucination.

Even though his attitude was back in the toilet, something about it felt… wrong . Almost as if it was forced, maybe? I eyed him suspiciously as he avoided my gaze with his arms crossed defiantly across his chest. There was a tenseness in his toned biceps. If it had been any other moment in time, I would have admired them for a moment longer as I fumbled with the speaker and music.

I made my way back over to him and slowly held out my hands. Maybe he was just in a bad mood. Maybe he was all choked up on his nerves about tomorrow. Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to fight fire with fire this time. He’d been so open to my tutelage last night. Jamie stood there, looking at my hands, almost as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I thought we could just keep this fun. Like last night.” I reminded him as I managed to pull his hands out from the knot of his arms across his chest. My mouth went dry as sober me did my best to not go out of the way to feel up the star catcher.

There was a hard set to his jaw as he reluctantly unwound his arms and let me take his limp hands into mine. Tiffiny’s mocking voice about getting on my knees to get him to cooperate somehow seeped its way into my brain. With a hard swallow, I dismissed the idea. This Jamie looked like a man who wouldn’t be bothered by oral stimulation at the moment.

Tipsy Cadence was a little more willing to bring Jamie up against her. Nervous and irritated as fuck Cadence was a lot less enthusiastic to take that step. So instead, the both of us made this infinitely more awkward, like two middle schoolers at a dance kept an arm’s length away from each other by an overly watchful teacher.

Even though he agreed to this, the man was anything but a willing participant. He was grumpier than ever. There was no heart to his dance moves. With my head clear, all I could focus on was the fact that Jamie Rheems was just inches away from me. I could feel the warmth and strength of his hands, yet they seemed reluctant to grab a hold of me like last night.

He knew I was a tough bird. I wasn’t some wilting flower. I worked with a bunch of completely insane baseball players. I could survive a firm grip of a man as we danced together. Instead, Jamie’s hands almost hovered over my body like an unnerving tease. Maybe he was pissed at me? Annoyed that I coerced him into this nonsense? His body language was keeping my thirsty bitch of a body at an imaginary arm’s length.

“Come on, man. You can do this. Don’t be afraid to grab onto me.” My mouth went dry, but I was desperate at this point. “Anywhere you want.” I caught the subtle pink tinge on his cheeks, even in the light of the early evening. His fingers did the tiniest little flex against me, almost as if he was battling something deep within.

What was he fighting against? What was he so unsure of? Did he want to touch me? Did he feel awkward?

“I’m good.” He refused to meet my eyes and his reply back was soft. Why was he so adamantly against this? I thought we had a breakthrough. We were this close to greatness barely 24 hours ago.

I even played some of the songs we danced to. Nothing. Not even a budge. He was fighting this with every fiber of his being. Did he forget all that? Did he even realize that this was the last stop? That he had to get his shit together or else this was the end of him in Philadelphia ?

By the end of the first hour, it was a wonder if I had any molars left. I was gritting my teeth so badly to stop me from saying anything that would get me into trouble. I had to gauge my words carefully.

“Where’s the Jamie from last night?” I managed to eke out in a vain attempt at some humor to lighten the situation. My voice didn’t sound at all as confident or as amusing as I hoped. “I’m pretty sure you shut some of the guys up with your moves at the bar.”

They always said that you get more flies with honey. I was trying to land me a juicy one. But to my disappointment, he didn’t look flattered or encouraged in the least bit.

“That Jamie and this one both don’t dance.” He said flatly. Oh boy, hold me back. This Cadence is ready to go off.

“Well, that’s unfortunate because since you’re on the Sillys you have to dance.” I tried to hide my irritation with a laugh, but I don’t think it came across. No paycheck was worth working with this kind of bullshit. Even if I had a crush on the man. But if he kept up with this nonsense any longer, he was going down a few notches on my crush list.

“Last I checked, only the mascots danced in baseball.” He misstepped and landed on my foot. I grimaced. Whether his stepping on my foot was purposeful or not, it only added to the souring mood.

“Last I checked, you weren’t in the majors anymore.” I shot back icily and immediately regretted the words. That got a visible wince out of him. It was harsh, but considering the only weapon I had were my words, and not a slap across his handsome face, it got me the same reaction .

“This is such bullshit.” Jamie spat out as he violently pulled away from me. His attitude was going to ruin every decent thought I ever had of the man.

“Yeah well…” I shouted after him as he grabbed his stuff with haste. All I could hear were Topper’s words in my head. That Jamie’s success here fell on my shoulders. “Maybe you should stop being so…so fucking selfish !”

Jamie paused in his steps as he headed toward the dugout. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be so full of himself. Despite his gruff attitude about his situation, his fieldwork and batting practice participation was flawless. I bet those coaches didn’t have to deal with such bullshit. And yet I was going to be the one who got shit for it. The one that ruined everything.

“Maybe there are some others who have our necks on the line too.” I choked out. As distressed as I sounded, I wasn’t worried about me, I was worried about my favorite baseball player crashing and burning into a horrific ball of flames all at once instead of retiring with the highest respect.

Lingering for just a moment, my heart shot up to my throat with hope that maybe I had struck a nerve. Instead, Jamie adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder before storming off towards the dugout. The fucking audacity. The longer I stood watching him retreat, the more I let the anger build into toxic fumes inside of me. Oh, that was fucking it. The fuck with my crush. The man was just demoted. Big time.

I’d had it with Jamie Rheems.