Page 29 of Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots #4)

Breakfast was a quiet affair.

The inside of Skylar’s head was not.

She stared down at her planner, which sat open beside her bowl of overnight oats. Already this morning, she’d pitched to the

tree for an hour, showered, paced, and, most of all, tried to figure out what to tell everyone about Robbie.

He wasn’t coming back, meaning she no longer had a teammate.

Calling Eve to act as a temporary replacement was not an option. Not with everything she had on her plate, the imagined weight

of which had kept Skylar awake half the night, trying to think of ways to help. She also knew getting Eve to accept any form

of help would be the biggest obstacle. Eve didn’t take assistance very well. Waiting for Eve to ask for that help would be

hard, but Skylar knew from experience there wasn’t another choice.

For now, the only option was to compete solo in the family competition. An unprecedented twist in Page Stakes lore, to be

whispered about for years to come.

Elton would have a field day with this. She could already hear her brother’s smug comments. No doubt, everything out of his

mouth for the next two days would be variations of I told you so . Her parents were allergic to expressing sympathy, so they’d feed her a bunch of platitudes, like What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger . Or You’ll be smarter next time. You’ve been given the gift of insight.

The other four people at the dining room table—Elton, Madden, and her parents, three of whom were wearing Brown University

T-shirts—were beginning to notice her silence, so Skylar took a tasteless bite of cold oats and scribbled something unnecessary

into her planner. She tried not to think about what Robbie was doing right now. Or who. It was approaching 8:00 a.m. , meaning he was probably spread-eagle in a tangle of women, sleeping with a smile on his face.

Had he even enjoyed the time they spent together?

Or had he spent the whole time dreaming of wild nights in Boston?

Sensing eyes on her profile, Skylar turned to find Madden watching her with brows drawn, his own breakfast untouched in front

of him, as well. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say, Are you okay?

Skylar nodded. Tell them your news , she mouthed.

He thought for a moment, then gave a curt shake of his head. Looked away.

The clock ticked.

The silence continued.

They were all waiting for Robbie to appear. According to the laminated schedule that had been posted on the refrigerator this

morning, today’s challenge was the swim across the reservoir—and it started early. As if on cue, both her über punctual parents

checked their waterproof watches and exchanged a knowing glance, clearly beginning to grow stressed by the missing competitor.

She’d run out of time.

“Um.” Skylar closed her planner. “I guess you’re wondering where Robbie is. I might... well, I might have some unfortu nate news about that, but I’m not complaining . Okay? I can compete by mysel—”

The screen door of the house opened and in walked Robbie.

In a Boston University T-shirt.

Disbelief streaked through Skylar, followed by relief. Gratitude.

Warmth. It swept downward from the crown of her head to her feet.

“Good morning, you family full of lunatics,” Robbie said conversationally, approaching the table. So casual, but his eyes

were locked on Skylar, as if trying to get a read. “Miss me?”

“No,” Elton responded, without his usual venom. He was looking at Robbie’s shirt, his forehead puckered in thought. Skylar

was staring at it, too, with a growing knot in her jugular, her hands dropping into her lap and curling into fists. Silently

as possible, she attempted to take a giant breath but found it difficult to draw air. In a house filled with Brown paraphernalia,

here was Robbie rocking BU merch, her school being represented for the very first time in this home. She’d never even worn

anything from BU around her parents, except for her softball uniform, wanting to avoid reminders of their disappointment.

“Nice shirt,” Madden said, lips quirked behind his folded hands, though his tone was hard to read. Was that approval or sarcasm?

“Thanks.” Until now, Skylar hadn’t noticed the stack of plastic-wrapped shirts Robbie carried under his arm, but when he started

dealing them around the table like blackjack cards, Skylar officially couldn’t breathe. “I bought one for everybody.”

“Oh.” Her parents traded a startled look. “We’re—”

“Big Brown fans. Which is cool, but there are no rules against supporting two teams, right? I mean exceptions have to be made when your kid is the star pitcher. You going to eat that, Rocket?” Before Skylar knew what was happening, Robbie scooped her off the wooden bench, sat down, and settled her sideways in his lap, proceeding to down her entire bowl of overnight oats in exactly four bites.

In just thirty seconds, her world turned itself upside down.

Or right side up?

No idea.

Before Robbie walked into the house, she’d been exposed and unsteady and lonely, ready to reveal a weakness to people who

didn’t tolerate them, already at her usual deficit of Didn’t get into Brown . Half a minute later, there she sat in the sun, her entire body surrounded in warmth and support, reassured as she watched

Robbie unapologetically eat the remainder of everyone’s meals. He’d stunned them into silence.

He’d stunned Skylar.

Frankly, at that moment, she didn’t care if he’d slept with half of Boston last night.

She laid her head on Robbie’s shoulder and closed her eyes, anyway.

“Did you already get your pitching in this morning?” he asked, rubbing the middle of her back. As if no one was watching.

As if they were the only two people at the table.

“Yes.” Skylar studied him a little more closely. “Is that a black eye?”

He hummed. “My last one was beginning to fade. Had to get a replacement.”

“I’ll be happy to replace it next time,” Elton voiced from across the table. “But, uh... welcome back. I guess. I wasn’t

looking forward to watching my sister try and swim both legs of the race.”

“Today’s challenge is swimming? And you’ve got a Long Is land kid on your team?” Robbie winked down at Skylar. “It’s in the bag.”

It was probably better they didn’t have any time alone between breakfast and the hike to the lake for the swimming challenge.

While Skylar helped clean up breakfast and tried to pretend her hands weren’t shaking, Robbie quickly changed into swim trunks

in her bedroom. Elton and her parents headed outside, Madden lingering by the sink, looking like he wanted to speak with her.

Yet all she could do was watch her bedroom door, waiting for Robbie to emerge. Robbie, who’d definitely been with other women

last night—nay, every night of his proud bachelor life... and still, she could only wonder if they would continue her lessons or if he’d forgotten

about them in a blur of beautiful babes.

Skylar shook herself.

Focused on Madden.

Stop getting distracted from your goal.

“Um...” She folded up the dish towel in her hands. “Why didn’t you want to tell them about the Yankees? It’s good news, Mads.”

“Right. Yes, ’course it is. I will share it, eventually.” He coughed into his fist. “Did a lot of thinking last night, though,

and I’m wondering, do you think it’s an opportunity to help Eve—”

“Ready to go,” Robbie said, entering the kitchen the way a runner slides into home base, wrapping an arm around Skylar’s waist

and hauling her up against him, bending her backward slightly and planting a kiss on her mouth. Mere inches from Madden. And

that’s what she should have been thinking about.

Madden’s reaction. Not the delightful friction of Robbie’s beard on her chin.

The way he could lift her so effortlessly onto her toes and didn’t hesitate to be physical with her.

So confident she’d want it—and she did. Mouth so good.

Good, good mouth. Mmmm. “You didn’t answer me before. Did you miss me?” Robbie asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Now ask me the same question.”

“I forgot the question.”

“Ask me if I missed you.”

“Did you?”

“I got a speeding ticket on my way back to you.” His fingers threaded into her hair, gently tilting her head and slanting

his lips down in the opposite direction, groaning into a slow, thorough kiss that turned her legs to mush. “I hassled someone

into punching me to distract me from missing you and it didn’t even work.”

Goose bumps. Everywhere. What is happening to me? “That’s a shame.”

“Look at me. Look.” He framed her face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “After practice, I raided the BU

campus bookshop for merch. After that, I went to my apartment and Mailer was having a party. But I left, Skylar. I saw a couple

of random butts and I left right away. I didn’t even appreciate those butts. I just wanted to get back here to your butt. You believe me, right?” Not waiting for a response, he rolled their foreheads together. Kissed her hard once, twice.

“I slept in my car at the end of your driveway. I didn’t want to come in and wake you up. Actually, that’s a lie. I did want

to come in and wake you up, but I was feeling some kind of way, missing you like that, and I would have ended up on top of

you. I’m fucking dying to be on top of you, Skylar. You dying for that?”

The fog parted momentarily. Madden. Oh my God.

Was he still standing there, hearing all this?

Skylar’s head swiveled right.

They were alone. How long had they been alone?

Who was Robbie benefiting with this speech?

“He left when you said you missed me.” He searched her eyes. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes.” Nine avenues of thought merged into a traffic jam. “Wait, I have so many questions.”

“About last night? Ask.” He dropped his hands from her face and backed up, straightening his shoulders as if swearing on a

Bible in court. “Ask me anything. I recorded my drive on my GPS so I could show you I was on the road. Not partying—”

“No. No, I believe you about that.”