Page 22 of Stealing Forever (Bridge Point Bears Baseball #1)
“You need us to watch Sailor for you tonight, Coach?” Gareth jests while we’re all in the locker room.
The game is over, our first win of the season against our rivals at their stadium, and it feels pretty damn good. After a closing speech in the locker room, I dismissed my guys and told them to go have some fun—they earned it.
“Yeah, she can hang out with her uncles while you go have a little fun of your own with the nanny,” Austin jumps into the conversation.
“You’re not Sailor’s uncles,” I grumble, shaking my head at Austin. “And I’m not going to have some fun with Sailor’s nanny. ”
“Does he have amnesia?” Jensen rubs at his neck with a towel before tossing it to the side and pulling his shirt overhead. “Because the whole world just saw him kiss her, and now he’s trying to act like he doesn’t have feelings for her.”
Fuck. It’s that obvious.
“Oh, the world saw it alright.” Austin laughs, staring down at his phone. “Guess who’s viral again.”
“AGAIN?” I boom, ripping the phone from his hand. “How does this happen so quickly? Who the hell recorded it this time?”
“Coach, there had to have been twenty thousand people there today. At least.” Gareth looks at me like I’m the world’s biggest moron. “I’m sure at least a third of them captured it on video.”
Not knowing how to use whatever platform Austin has pulled up, I tap on the screen, and a heart appears across it.
“Scroll,” he instructs.
“How the fuck did this happen so fast?” Every other god damn video is of mine and Hailey’s kiss.
“Does he not know how the internet works?” Jensen deadpans.
“It just—it—” What the fuck. “I kissed her thirty fucking minutes ago!”
Fucking viral again ? It feels like a violation of privacy—our first kiss captured on video, hundreds of times, at different angles.
But I’m the dumbass who impulsively kissed her publicly.
Very publicly.
Thrusting the phone back at Austin’s chest, I walk out of the locker room.
“Coach!” Austin laughs uncontrollably.
“Maybe she won’t care!” Gareth calls with encouragement, but I ignore them all and stomp my ass directly into the sea of fans all trying to file out at once.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Hailey.
Her sweet voice filters through the phone after the second ring. “Declan, hey.”
“Hey. Where are you guys?” Her side of the phone is as loud as mine is, clueing me in that she’s still at the stadium.
“Trying to get out of here,” her voice raises slightly. “Do you want to meet somewhere?”
I lower the rim of my hat, shielding my face as a group of passing women seem to recognize me. “Yeah. Take Sail back to the hotel and I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”
“Do you mind if Hartley comes?”
With my head lowered, I weave through the crowd. It’s practically survival of the fittest to get through this mess. “Not at all, sweetheart. See you guys soon.”
About thirty minutes later, I make it to the hotel’s restaurant.
It was a nightmare getting through the foot traffic downtown, and I’m borderline hangry when I arrive.
Spotting their table near the window, I’m happy to see Sailor already has a plate of macaroni and cheese in front of her, and Hailey and her sister have been served some sort of blended fruity drink.
“Don’t worry, it’s a virgin,” Hailey blurts as I slide into the seat next to her sister. I try not to laugh. I wouldn’t give a shit if she was enjoying a drink right now—not after this long day.
Does she know about the newest viral video of us?
As I walked to the hotel, I searched through YouTube since I know how to use it, and of course, people are going crazy.
I can’t believe this happened again.
“Hi, I’m Hartley.” The blonde next to me holds out her hand. “I believe you’re pretty well acquainted with my sister, who sometimes has no filter.”
I laugh, sliding my palm into hers. “Hi, Hartley, I’m Declan. Nice to meet you.”
Her handshake is firmer than I expected it would be.
Hartley looks similar to her sister, but with major differences.
They share the same eyes and smile, but Hartley has more of a button nose while Hailey’s is straight, and Hartley’s hair is quite a contrast to Hailey’s red.
Physically, Hartley is petite and a little shorter, but if I remember correctly, she’s a ballerina, which would attribute to her smaller frame, I’m sure.
“Cute kiddo you have. I can see why my sister is fond of nannying for you. That, and the VIP box seats don’t hurt either.”
“Hartley!” Hailey gasps, looking mortified.
“What?” She shrugs. “Those were amazing seats.”
“Well, you’re welcome to utilize them at any Bears game. Door’s always open,” I promise. “Did you ladies order?” Picking up the menu, I scan through it, my stomach panging with hunger as I look over my options.
“Not yet,” Hailey responds. “We were waiting for you, but Sailor was hungry, so I ordered hers.”
Our eyes meet across the table. “Thank you.”
Her lips upturn in a smile, and the urge to get up and kiss her burns bright within me. Like every inopportune time, though, that feeling is interrupted.
“Hello, sir.” A waiter approaches the table with his order pad in hand. “What can I get you to drink?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to order a beer, but there’s only one thing after a long day in the sun that I should be drinking. “I’ll stick with water.”
“Is the table ready to order dinner?” the waiter asks, glancing at us.
“Ladies?” I question, and both Hailey and Hartley nod their heads in unison.
I wonder if that’s a twin thing.
“Ravioli, please. With a Caesar salad,” Hartley takes the lead with ordering, then hands her menu to the waiter.
Hailey orders next, and I try to focus on the menu, but it’s impossible when her voice sends my heart into a frenzy. “I’ll do the grilled chicken breast with scalloped potatoes and a house salad, please.”
“Dressing?”
“Vinaigrette.”
“Excellent,” the waiter approves. “And for you, sir?”
“Sirloin, please, medium rare.”
“Mashed potatoes and asparagus are served with it, unless you would prefer to substitute for a side salad?”
“However it comes is fine. Thank you.”
The waiter nods and finishes jotting down everything. “Very good. Your meals will be out shortly.”
A round of thank you’s circulates through the table, and he walks away, leaving me with the Shea twins and Sailor.
“So, Hartley. Hailey told me you’re dating one of the guys from the Rebels?” I make small talk as I pick at a roll from the breadbasket on the table. What I want is to talk to Hailey alone, but I know that won’t happen until tonight.
“Yeah, Owen Marsh.” She pops a piece of bread in her mouth and doesn’t elaborate. Not that I need the details.
The rest of our early dinner moves quickly when the entrees come out, and before I know it, it’s time for us to say our goodbyes.
Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s barely seven—no need for both of us to call it a night so early.
“Why don’t you and Hartley put that hotel credit to good use and head over to the spa?” I suggest to Hailey as she scoops the rest of Sailor’s macaroni into a to-go box.
Hartley squeals. “I love that idea.”
“Are you sure?” Hailey asks hesitantly. There are unspoken words behind those green eyes of hers, and I wonder what they’re really trying to say.
“Sure am.” I nod as I take the leftovers from her hand. “You deserve it. Take the night off—enjoy yourself.”
“I hear this hotel has rooftop bowling,” Hartley tells her sister with enthusiasm.
“I can confirm that. There’s a bar up there, too.” I was up there last night with the guys for a few hours, watching as they played. Thank God they’re better at baseball than they are at bowling.
“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” Hailey finally relents when Hartley laces their hands together and pulls her from her chair.
“Have fun.” I smile, then stand too, and go help Sailor up.
“Bye, sweet girl, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Hailey kisses the top of Sailor’s head, then is pulled away by Hartley.
“Where’s she going, Daddy?” Sailor asks while we weave our way through the restaurant hand in hand.
“To spend some time with her sister. What do you say we get you in the bath, and I’ll order some ice cream to the room?”
“Yes!” she shouts as we enter the lobby and a few nearby hotel guests look in our direction.
The excitement in Sailor’s step fuels my own, and I realize it’s been far too long since we’ve had a relaxed, unstructured night together.
Swinging into the hotel's gift shop, I let her pick out nail polish, and the cashier lends a helping hand by also grabbing something called a top coat for it. I also pick up a pair of overpriced pink fuzzy slippers in Sailor’s size, and she picks out a bag of Cheez-Its and a red Gatorade.
Hailey may be off getting pampered at the spa, but I see no reason why Sailor can’t have a little spa evening of her own.
There’s no time like the present to learn how to paint pink glitter on ten small fingers and ten small toes.