Page 43 of Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots #4)

Eve dropped onto the couch beside Skylar, visibly less stressed than when she arrived, probably because Douglas and Vivica

had turned the kitchen into one giant art project station, several finger paintings already hanging on a line above the sink.

In other words, the high-energy kids were occupied, and she was free to sip the after-dinner coffee in her hands.

Now that they were alone, Skylar was eager to address the elephant in the room and find out what had led to Eve’s raising

her sister’s kids, but she knew from experience that Eve would drive the conversation around the block until she felt like

parking, so she stayed silent and let Eve dictate the starting point.

“They’re usually not so rambunctious, I swear,” Eve said, sipping her coffee, her French manicure resting against the porcelain

mug, the ends of her long, wavy blond hair curled against the curve of her waist. “They’re probably just so happy to be somewhere

besides my apartment or the office at the lounge.”

“Are they in school?”

“Just registered them for pre-K at Cumberland Elementary. They’ll be joining late, but it seemed necessary. I don’t think

they’ve been social with anyone but each other.” A groove appeared on her forehead. “I’ve only made my way through one parenting

book, but I know they need to be around other kids.”

“I think if you’ve read an entire parenting book, you’re already doing great.”

Gratitude flickered in her eyes. “Thanks.”

“Did your sister have them in any kind of daycare, or...”

“I didn’t have a chance to ask.” Eve smiled and shifted her position, a sure sign she was going to change the subject. “Madden

mentioned you’ve been seeing someone. A hockey player? Serious enough to introduce to Doug and Viv? I thought he’d be here—”

As if the very mention of Madden’s name had summoned him through the door, the Irishman was suddenly ducking beneath the frame

of the entryway, his countenance carved from stone, as usual. He ceased to move when he saw Eve sitting on the couch, obviously

surprised she’d finally decided to pay the Pages a visit. Eve stared at the floor, her knuckles white from being locked around

the coffee mug.

Really? These two had one disagreement and stopped talking? If the Pages did that, no one would speak ever again.

“Do you want me to mediate this, or...” Skylar murmured out of the side of her mouth.

“No.” Eve shook her head, turning to face Skylar more fully. Setting down her mug rather shakily. “No—and you’re totally avoiding

my question.”

“I’m not!”

“Hockey player. Go.”

Skylar felt parts of her heat that had no business warming up in the family living room. “Robbie. Corrigan. He plays for the

Bearcats? Don’t ask me what position—I’ve yet to learn anything about the sport, but he’s...” Oh wow, her pulse was skipping

like a stone going across a glassy pond. “He’s going to teach me.”

Eve studied her with a half smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush in my life the way you’re doing right now.”

“I guess you’re forgetting the time I accidentally pantsed my self in gym class.” Flustered over her best friend’s scrutiny, Skylar gathered her hair into a ponytail, using the elastic on her wrist to secure it. “Robbie is... I didn’t expect him.”

“We never do, right?” After a beat, Eve laughed off what had seemed like a serious statement. “So, Robbie Corrigan.” Eve’s

black satin envelope clutch sat nearby on the coffee table and she reached into it now, her movements ever graceful, taking

out her phone. “Be honest. How much internet stalking have you done?”

“Oh, um. None?”

“I envy your willpower.”

Skylar watched with growing pressure in her throat as Eve punched Robbie’s name into Google and hit search, before she could

protest. Everything that came up would probably be hockey related. No need for this urge to bat the phone out of her friend’s

hand or rush to explain... what? That she was already aware of Robbie’s lifestyle?

Across the room, Madden and Elton had taken a seat at the dining room table across from each other, frosty bottles of beer

in their hands, the wrinkles of tension between them evident. She tried to focus on that instead of Eve’s thumb scrolling,

wondering what she could do to help Elton. After all, she had a lot of experience feeling inadequate, especially when it came

to sports. His time would come—

Eve darkened her phone and set it down in her lap. “How is the competition going? What sort of ass kicking did Doug and Viv

serve up this year?”

“Wait.” Skylar pointed at Eve’s phone. “You’re not going to say anything about the search results?”

“He’s very handsome. And a redhead . Spicy.”

“That’s it?”

Eve opened her mouth, closed it. Reached for her coffee but didn’t take a sip. “I shouldn’t have googled him. But I mean, come on. He’s a public figure. Google anyone with a little fame these days and you’ll find a reason the internet hates him.”

Static popped in Skylar’s ears, her arms tingling all the way to her fingertips. “Just tell me what you saw. I probably already

know. He’s kind of... a partier. But he’s going to...”

Lord.

But he’s going to change.

She almost said that out loud.

“I guess you have to meet him to understand,” Skylar finished, lamely. “He’s great. He saved me from drowning yesterday, for

god’s sake.”

Eve’s spine snapped straight. “He what? You almost drowned?”

“Just show me the phone,” she blurted.

“Skylar.”

“Eve.”

“What’s going on over there?” Elton called.

Madden frowned over a long pull of his beer, his scrutiny directed at Eve, as was Skylar’s.

Skylar and Eve dove for the phone at the same time—and she had to hand it to the blonde, she was quick; but she hadn’t grown

up in a family of freakishly competitive athletes. It was no contest. Skylar had the phone in her hand in a blink.

“What’s your password?”

“I’m not trying to keep what I found quiet,” Eve strangle-whispered just for Skylar’s ears. “I just wanted to show you later

when you’re alone and you can process it without everyone watching. Maybe you know about it already.”

“Know about what ?”

Eve sighed, hesitated, then punched in her four-digit password, lighting up the screen and revealing a blue-and-white list of search engine results.

“There’s a website where women share bad experiences with men, okay?

It started off as a way to help women protect one another from violence, which we shouldn’t have to take into our own hands, but here we are.

There is also a fair amount of ex bashing, so it’s not perfect.

That seems to be what women are doing with Robbie, although.

.. he appears to be an ex-boyfriend to no one.

It never gets that far.” Eve tapped through a few screens.

“There’s a whole page dedicated to him.”

“Dedicated to who?” Elton wanted to know. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eve and Skylar shouted back without taking their eyes off the phone.

Even though Skylar desperately wanted to take the device and throw it in the lake.

Oh... my God.

Her eyes skimmed over rows of ugly words and phrases. Serial player. Don’t trust a word out of his mouth. Manwhore. Don’t get played.

Forgot my name after we slept together. Twice.

Holds weekly whipped cream bikini parties.

The worst part was the picture.

Robbie at what appeared to be a nightclub with two beautiful women on his lap, a third one pouring a shot of tequila directly

into his mouth.

It was like someone had taken a shovel and scooped everything out of her chest in one go.

Skylar could only hand the phone back with numb fingers and try to keep her features schooled, not sure if she should be more embarrassed or devastated.

It was one thing to know Robbie lived an unapologetic bachelor lifestyle up until a couple weeks ago.

.. and quite another to see it in vivid color on the internet.

There was nothing wrong with being sexually active.

That was his choice. But seeing the images, the words on the screen, only reminded her of how he’d bragged about his conquests.

How content he’d seemed pursuing one-night stands, organizing threesomes on a whim.

Could he be happy and fulfilled without those things?

“Okay,” she whispered. “Um...”

“Look.” Eve shoved the phone back into her purse. “Everyone has a past. You have to trust your own judgment of him.”

“Yeah,” Skylar forced past dry lips, her ears and face and throat on fire. “Thanks for showing me.”

Eve started to respond, but the kids bounded over like matching whirlwinds, throwing themselves onto Eve, even as Vivica jogged

in their wake shrieking for them to wash their hands before they touched anything. Before Skylar could rouse herself from

what felt suspiciously like heartbreak to help her friend, Madden was there, plucking Landon off Eve, holding the child stiffly

for a moment with his legs dangling, then settling him onto his feet with an awkward head pat. “Do you need help with...

anything?” he asked Eve.

Why did she look so thrown by the simple question?

Was Skylar missing something? Had Eve’s disagreement with Madden continued without her being aware of it?

“No, we’re fine, actually. Better than fine.” Holding Lark in her arms, Eve stood up, stooping with some difficulty, bending

her knees to clutch her purse with a hand that was already semioccupied. “But it is getting late, so I think we’ll head out.”

She hustled Landon toward the door, nodding as he whined to be carried like his sister. “Thank you, Doug. Thank you, Viv.”

On her way out the door, she looked back at Skylar with undisguised regret. “Skylar... call me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Skylar creaked. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

Activity took place around Skylar after that, but she was only partially aware of voices and movement.

Dishes being dried. Art supplies being cleaned up.

Madden pacing and looking out the window.

Elton reading off dating profiles out loud to get Vivica’s opinion.

And Skylar just sat there, unable to feel her legs.

Am I getting played?

What am I doing?

If Robbie was there right now, she’d probably be reassured, but he wasn’t. All she could see were those incredibly confident

women on his lap, and the insecurities she’d made great headway in overcoming the last week started to bleed back in. If those women hadn’t stood a chance with Robbie, how could she?

“Skylar,” a deep voice prompted. In a way that suggested they’d been trying to get her attention for a while. Madden. He’d

sat down on the coffee table in front of her, his hands clasped loosely between his knees. He tilted his head to search her

face, his right knee brushing hers, maybe accidentally? She didn’t know. Didn’t know up from down in that moment. Only that

she desperately needed a grounding presence and Madden was there now, taking up space. “I was wondering if... you want

to get a drink with me.”

Her first instinct was to laugh.

Really.

Really?

She’d carried a torch for this man since high school and he’d never done more than humor her, treat her like a kid.

One he cared about, but still. Now that she was over him, he finally asked her out?

The irony sucked on top of everything else.

It was too much, but... maybe that’s what she needed.

Too much. To be overwhelmed and distracted and dammit, she refused to sit there in a pathetic fog of inadequacy and doubt, waiting for a man who up until very recently was throwing whipped cream bikini parties.

And suddenly, she was dissecting everything he’d said about his last trip to Boston, putting together timelines and.

.. holy shit. Was she setting herself up for this kind of constant worry?

No. Hell no.

“Yeah. I’ll go get a drink, Madden. Sure.”