Page 70 of Playboy Pitcher

“That’s what you get for trying to be someone you’re not,” I huff through the windup, the ball leaving my hand along with my frustration.

“If you mean a moron, I agree. Because that’s who would throw spinners like that on gameday.”

“What the…?” Caught off guard, I spin around and see a flash of a blonde ponytail and swinging legs. “Mal?” She grins and my heart drops back into my chest. “Jesus Christ, would you stop doing that?” As she laughs and hops off the guard rail onto the field, I narrow my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sick…” Covering her mouth, she offers up one hell of a weak cough, then looks up to see if I’m buying it.

I’m not.

Plus, I don’t have time to babysit some asshole’s latchkey kid.

“Look, I’m not in the mood for company today.”

“Late night?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

I don’t need this shit right now.Scrubbing a hand down my face, I nod. “Something like that.”

Picking up one of my discarded baseballs, she tosses it in the air and catches it before throwing one hell of an impressive straight-line pitch right into my glove. “You should probably lay off the Annies right before a game, dude. Screws with the wrong mojo.”

“What the hell…?” I stare at her, unsure if I should laugh at her bluntness or be offended by it. “No. It’s not like that.”Liar.“Mostly.”

She arches an eyebrow. “No mojo?”

Snorting, I throw a shitty curveball. “No Annies.”

“I see…” Folding her arms across her chest, she circles me like a shark smelling blood in the water. “So, you got a girlfriend or something, LaCroix?”

“Or something.”

Mal stops beside me and cocks her hip. “What’s she like? Wait, let me guess,” she says, holding up her hand and gazing toward the sky as if waiting for divine intervention. I guess it hits because she grins, and all I see is a mouthful of braces. “Tall, thin, and eats twigs and berries once or twice a week.”

I roll my eyes. “Will you stop?” Laughing, she hands me another ball. I should end it here, but for some godforsaken reason, my mouth keeps spitting out words. “Complete opposite, actually. Not my type at all. She’s stubborn, sarcastic, and stubborn…and…”

Her grin widens. “You already said that.”

“It bears repeating. We have somewhat of a working relationship, but…” Dropping the ball back in the bin, I remove my ball cap and rake a hand through my drenched hair. “Jesus, why am I telling you this? You’re just a kid.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why you’re telling me. Iama kid.” Stretching out her skinny arms, she tilts her head. “Who the hell amIgoing to tell? Even if I did, who’d believe me anyway?”

Maybe it’s the heat getting to me, but the kid has a point. “She’s a very private person,” I admit, gripping my cap. “And last night, I thought we kind of had a breakthrough.” I offer a weak shrug. “We got close.”

“Did you kiss her?” she asks, drawing the words out with a wide grin, and I can’t help but laugh.Nowshe sounds like a teenage girl.

“Yeah.”

“Do you love her?”

Whoa, pump the brakes.That’s one blasphemous four-letter word I won’t tolerate. “Watch it, Mal,” I snap, my smile fading. “Don’t get carried away. I like her. More than I should. But love is a word I’m not sure I’ll ever say.”

“Why?”

“It’s too easy to use as a weapon. The minute it’s out there, you’re vulnerable. People can twist it around just to hurt you. Once you say it, you can’t take it back.”

Mal blinks at me, cocking her head side to side, as if I’m some battered piece of roadkill. “Dude, what girl messed you up?”

Okay, that’s enough of this. If I want to be picked apart and dissected, I’ll let the team shrink slap a few labels on me for the low, low price of five hundred bucks an hour.

Signaling to the equipment manager, I turn to leave, giving Mal a short and sweet exit. “This has been, well, it’s been something. But I have to hit the showers.”