Page 5 of Pitcher Perfect (Big Shots #4)

Robbie tried like hell not to show the defeat currently lancing him in the gut.

She loved this fucking catcher named Madden. He could tell. When she’d said his name earlier, it was the first time her brown

eyes lost their spite. Speaking about him now was causing her to shift in her seat, fidget with the mug of orange juice. Robbie

was a side character who’d walked into a love story already in progress.

One girl wasn’t going to work out for him. One. So what?

So she was gorgeous and funny and athletically talented and took no shit. So she made jokes about cannibalism without blinking

and the weight of her had felt really goddamn good thrown over his shoulder. So she was competitive and seemed to value her

family, even while poking fun at them.

So what?

The bacon, egg, and cheese bagel was now a ten-ton boulder sitting in his stomach.

He should really get up and make a hasty exit, take the hard lesson she’d given him about his treatment of women and forget

this ever happened. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to stand up and leave. Something about never seeing this person again

was giving him a very distinct burn behind his Adam’s apple. Had that ever happened before?

No.

Plus, hey, he still had ten minutes on the clock. He couldn’t give her dickhead brother the satisfaction of ending the date early, right?

Mostly, though, Robbie just really liked sitting across from her. Skylar smelled like soap and orange juice and her voice had this husky pitch that made him wonder

what she said when she was close to coming. Stay there. Right there. Don’t move. Harder.

Apparently, Robbie was never going to find out.

“What’s your plan?” he prompted, even though he desperately wanted to change the subject. That was the hockey player in him,

though. Embracing the shit show.

Skylar’s chin came up, interest shifting her beautiful features, irritation clearing from her brow. Oh Jesus. She was even more beautiful when she didn’t want to slice off his balls. What had he even said to evoke such a change? Right.

What’s your plan?

“Plan?” she echoed.

“Yeah. For pulling the catcher.”

“I’m not trying to pull him. I’m trying to...”

“Marry him. Have his babies.” Robbie gave her a sympathetic wince. “Hate to break it to you, Rocket. If you want those things,

you have to pull him first.”

“Well.” Skylar twisted the mug in front of her, appearing more than a little thrown. Man, it was so endearing the way she

flushed to the roots of her hair. “There wasn’t a softball league in my town growing up, so I played baseball. It wasn’t until

much later, freshman year of high school, that my parents started driving me the twenty miles to play club softball on a girls’

team, but by then I was one of the guys. Those friend groups among the girls were formed and they were so... good at wearing

the right clothes and sliding into DMs.”

“You preferred sliding into bases.”

That earned him his first laugh from Skylar Page—and it forever changed him. It was as unique as the rest of her. That slightly sunburned nose wrinkled and she gave sort of a mini lurch, no sound coming out at first, but then a tremulous gasp filled the space between them. “That was terrible.”

“It had the desired result.” Every second that drained from the clock now was like an explosion in his ears. “All right, so

you’re not good with men.”

She groaned. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

“Maybe you sense that I’m the perfect person to help.”

Help?

What the actual fuck are you doing? Robbie wasn’t even 100 percent sure yet, the idea was coming to him in flashes, like the goal teasing him with glimpses between

a hoard of shifting defenders. All he knew was that if Skylar walked out of that restaurant and he didn’t have a way to see

her again, he’d regret it more than the time he tried bleaching his hair and eyebrows blond in middle school using Clorox.

He still had the chemical burn on his scalp and a lifetime of nightmares ahead.

Speaking of nightmares, right now, as he looked at Skylar, every crude thing he’d ever said in the locker room was coming

back to him in hideous waves, turning his stomach to soup. He wouldn’t even recommend that Skylar date him. Maybe helping her with the catcher was the only way he could realistically

remain in her orbit. Maybe watching her win another man over was going to serve as punishment for the way Robbie himself had

been treating women lately.

Because he’d been raised a lot better than that, hadn’t he?

Yeah. Talk about an understatement.

His parents were still happily married and living on Long Island.

They wore matching polo shirts to the golf course.

They’d just gotten a pizza oven installed in the backyard and they texted him a picture every single time they used it, their smiling faces cut off and out of frame in some haphazard selfie.

By example, they’d taught him what a healthy, respectful relationship looked like.

To say nothing of the numerous lessons his grandfather Nick had taught him before—

Robbie cleared his throat so hard, Skylar jolted.

Come on, guy. He knew better than to think about his grandfather in public.

He ducked his head to hide the flash of grief.

Bottom line, he’d let his bachelor behavior escalate, drunk on the access to women that his career and gladiator physique

afforded him. And he’d been taught better.

Skylar was squinting a skeptical eye at him. “How would you help me?”

Great question. Just figure out a way to see her again and go from there.

When would he see her, though? She’d just finished telling him she’d be in Rhode Island next week for some bizarre family

Olympics. Two weeks from now, he’d be nothing but a distant memory—

Wait.

Wait.

“Don’t you need a new teammate for the Page...”

“Stakes? Yes.” She leaned forward, then way back in her chair. As if she comprehended where he was going with this line of

questioning but wasn’t sure if Robbie was quite that crazy. Spoiler alert: he was. “Why?”

He spread his arms wide. “Look no further.”

“That punch knocked your common sense loose. Looser , I should say. You’re proposing we compete together, as a team, in the Page Stakes?” She shook her head slowly, one corner

of her mouth lifting with secret amusement. “Honestly? You have no idea what you’d be in for. I should let you come, just

to watch your dawning horror.”

Robbie scratched his beard. “Your family is that fucked-up, huh?”

“My dad wakes us up with a trumpet. He keeps a local nurse on speed dial, just in case any of us require medical attention.”

“I’m in.”

“What... is wrong with you?”

“Same thing that’s wrong with you. I’m competitive to a fault. I don’t care if the prize is a Pepsi can, I want to win it.”

With you. “And in the process...” He tried to shrug off the warning twist in his chest, but he didn’t quite succeed. “We make your

catcher a little jealous. Let him see who and what he’s missing.”

Skylar studied Robbie’s face long and hard, probably double-checking that she wasn’t being had. Then she stared off into the

distance, cogs turning behind her incredible eyes. “Do you think... that would really work? I mean, he did seem a little jealous when you sexually harassed me at the baseball field.”

“Christ. Talk about a wake-up call,” Robbie muttered, the words “sexual harassment” echoing in his ears. “We’ve only got about

two minutes left, so I’ll lay it out for you. I’ll come to Rhode Island and help you win this guy...” Speaking of nurses,

he needed one to treat the burning in his esophagus right about now. “I owe you. I want to make up for what happened this

morning.”

Skylar tilted her head, as if maybe she was caught off guard by his earnestness, but still not quite sold. On him or the idea. “What would I tell my family?”

“That I’m your... love interest. Obviously. That’s how we’re going to make this assho— the catcher, I mean, jealous.”

Briefly, she covered her face, clearly in disbelief to be considering this proposed charade.

“Even if I could convince my parents that I’m suddenly the girl who brings home her boyfriend, who I’ve never told them about, do you really think Elton is going to buy that?

What about Madden? You think they’ll buy the story that we had some miraculous turnaround in our relationship after thirty minutes in a coffee shop where neither one of us drank coffee? ”

“I can be convincing.” He cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Can you?”

She hissed a sound. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, innocently.

“Prod my competitive side.”

Robbie almost had her. He was this close to being allowed to go with Skylar to Rhode Island and help her win another man. Sure, he’d get to spend time with this amazing

girl and beat some baseball players’ asses. Watching her pine for another man would be fucking awful, but there was no turning

back now. He wasn’t lying when he said this morning had been a wake-up call and he not only wanted to leave this girl with

a better impression of him, he wanted to remind himself of the person Grandpa Nick had helped raise. Someone who treated everyone

with respect.

When had he gone so far off course?

“Moment of truth, Skylar. Are you in or out?”

She glanced toward the street, her teeth furiously chewing her bottom lip.

Were his palms sweating? Yeah. Profusely. After all, she could say no to this asinine idea and walk out the door without looking

back. Frankly, it terrified him how easily she could do that. In fact, she probably should do that, because she had exactly zero reasons to trust him.

Give her one.

Without giving himself the opportunity to talk himself out of it, Robbie took the wallet out of his back pocket and slid an old photograph out of the billfold.

He hesitated only a moment before setting it down in front of her, making sure his voice was even before he started talking.

“This is my grandfather Nick. He is... he was the most important person in the world to me. I swear on his memory that I’m going to help you do this. I’ll take it seriously.”

He tried not to be obvious about the long breath he had to take. “I also swear on his memory to mop the floor with your brother

at the Page Stakes.”

Skylar snorted on her way to burying her head in her hands. “God knows I’m not getting Madden’s attention on my own,” she

murmured, almost to herself.

Robbie carefully put the picture back in his wallet and waited.

Dug his fingertips into his thighs as she started to speak. “I—”

The door of the coffee shop flew open. “Sky, let’s go,” Elton barked from the entrance. “Time’s up.”

She stood on reflex, then seemed annoyed about it.

Robbie stood, too, intending to walk her to the car, no matter which decision she made. Wanting every last second, if this

was going to be the final time he saw her.

“Hey,” he started, stepping back so she could lead the way to the door—

“Look.” She wet her lips, looking up at Robbie. Paused for a five count, as if trying to read his mind, then whispered, “Maybe

this is the worst thing I’ve ever agreed to, but I’m in.” She snuck a peek at his lips. “Might as well lay the groundwork

now, right?”

Robbie heard the words coming out of her mouth, but he was still somehow completely caught off guard when Skylar fisted the front of his fleece and drew him down for a kiss.

A quick press of warm, plush lips against his own, a moment of lingering where she searched his eyes, tick, tick, tick, followed by her elevating onto her tiptoes to kiss him more fully.

.. except this time he was ready. Barely, thanks to his fucking heart drumming in his ears, but he managed to cup the back of her head and savor the second lock of their mouths, the featherlight alignment of her athlete’s body against his, the dizzying waft of soap and orange juice, the twitch and rise of his dick, the sifting of his fingers through her hair, the levitation of his body into the sky—

She sank her teeth into his bottom lip and tugged, giving him a warning look.

“If you mess this up, I will mess you up.”

“Understood,” he managed, winded.

“I’ll be in touch.”

With that, she turned and sauntered out of the shop, right past her bewildered brother, who was splitting his shock between

Skylar and Robbie, but Robbie was reeling too severely to gloat for once in his life. All he could do was stare at Skylar’s

retreating form and attempt to ground himself, until Elton finally allowed the door to swing closed, street sounds cutting

off abruptly, leaving only the pounding of Robbie’s pulse.

“What a woman,” Robbie whispered, rubbing the center of his chest.

He’d just signed himself up for hell.

But Skylar? She was worth it.