Page 14 of Taking the Pitch (Love & Baseball #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

amelia

Fuck, my head feels like it’s going to pop right off my neck. Shutting my car door and opening the back hatch for Bruno, I clip his leash on and wait for him to hop out of the back before stabbing the close button on my compact SUV.

If it wasn’t for the interview being today, I would have called and told Gladys or Irene I wouldn’t be making it today. But here I am, later than normal, but here, running up the steps of the library with Bruno hot on my heels to avoid being completely drenched, making my migraine worse with every step.

Once I reach the landing, I wrench the door open and dart inside. Dropping my oversized bag to the floor, I grab the towel I tucked inside and throw it over Bruno before he can shake everywhere. Getting him dried off to the best of my ability and cleaning up the slight puddle we made in the entrance, I fold the towel over my arm and proceed to the children’s room.

Walking in, I see a couple of the dogs are already settled into their beds, the sounds of licking echoing throughout the space as they dry themselves off more. I unclip Bruno’s leash and stow my stuff in the back room, laying the towel over the back of the chair to help it dry.

“Millie, there you are. I was just about to call you,” Gladys says from the office door.

Slowly turning around because I’ve moved way too fast for my body’s liking the past few minutes, I face Gladys. “Sorry I’m late. I have a terrible migraine and if it wasn’t for the interview, I wouldn’t be here at all.”

“Oh dear, well, as soon as the interview is over, don’t you worry about anything and just go on home. I know how bad these can get for you,” she says softly. “Why don’t you sit in here with the lights off until the reporter gets here?”

Mustering a small smile, I thank her and slump into the chair. Folding my arms across the desk, I lay my head down as Gladys flips the lights off and leaves the door cracked. My eyes immediately take solace in the darkness, and the pounding in my head eases slightly.

A few minutes later I hear Judd’s deep voice just outside the door, making my heart rate skyrocket and the pounding in my head increase. I haven’t seen him since the gym, and I don’t know how I’m going to face him today. It’s one of the reasons I have a migraine. I’ve been playing out different scenarios in my head about how today could go. I’m also incredibly behind on my next novel and I’m falling further behind every day. At this rate I won’t make my deadline, which will put me behind all next year. I had panic attacks all night about it.

Just another perk of my anxiety.

Yay me.

The door creaks open and light from the library leaks in. Squinting my eyes, I look up and see Judd’s tall silhouette in the doorway. He closes the door behind him until there’s just a sliver of light sneaking through. “Hey,” he whispers, coming over to crouch next to me, resting a hand on my back. “Gladys said you had a migraine. How bad is it?”

My eyes glide over his barely visible face, but even in the dark I can still see how handsome he is…asshole.

Filling my lungs with Judd’s signature christmassy scent, I decide to downplay just how much pain I’m in. “I’m fine, just a little headache. Already feeling better.” The lie feels thick and sticky on my tongue, but to drive the point home, I roll the office chair back and stand. “See? Feeling…” The words die on my tongue as the dark room tips on its axis.

Judd grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me back down into the chair before I topple over. “That’s what I figured. Mills, there’s no way you can do this interview today,” he says, using the nickname I secretly love. The name only my dad used for me. Tears prick at my eyes, and I will them away, blinking rapidly. Thankful that we’re in the dark.

Judd takes his phone out of his back pocket. “I’ll be right back. Sit tight and whatever you do, don’t try to get up,” he tells me before stepping out of the room.

I’d roll my eyes, but honestly, that would even hurt too much at this point. Every movement is too much and I’m wondering how I’m going to drive home after this. A wave of nausea hits me, and I pull a slow breath through my nose. I’ve officially hit the point of no return. Nothing but an ice pack, a dark room, and a massive amount of Tylenol and ibuprofen can help me now. I’ve taken meds for my migraines off and on throughout the years, but they really don’t seem to work any better.

I’m reclining back in the chair, trying to breathe through the nausea when Judd comes back in and crouches back down in front of me. He places his hand on my knee, and I’m surprised at how quickly the spot warms under his touch. Looking down at him, I have to convince my hands not to reach forward and run my fingers through his thick, dark hair.

“I’m taking you home. I called Jules and rescheduled the interview. She said to tell you she hopes you feel better soon.”

I blink slowly at him while my brain processes the information he just told me. “Jules? Julie? The reporter? Wait, how? You know her?” Apparently, full sentences are no longer a thing for me today.

“Yes, Julie, the reporter. We go way back to my rookie year. I was one of her first athletes she interviewed after she graduated.” He shrugs and I know there’s more to the story than he’s letting on. An irrational streak of jealousy burns through my stomach, increasing my nausea.

No, I am not jealous. I have nothing to be jealous about.

“Alright Sweetheart, grab your stuff and let’s head out.”

Hold up. “Uh, what?”

“I’m taking you home. Grab what you need and let’s get Bruno and get you home.”

I blink slowly at him, trying to ignore the flip my stomach does when he says home . “But I drove here,” I tell him.

He chuckles lightly and leans down, bracing himself on the arms of the chair, towering over me. “I know, but there is no way I’m letting you drive home like this.” Judd reaches up and cups my face, running his thumb over my cheek, eyes gazing into mine “I would never forgive myself if I let you drive home, and something happened to you.”

Oh.

“But, uh, what, what about my car?” I ask, trying to wade through the migraine induced fog.

Judd lifts a shoulder and removes his hand from my face to stand. “We can come back and get it tomorrow.”

Panic eats at the edge of my pain, making the thumping in my head worse. “No, I, I can’t leave my car. What if I need it? I’ll just drive, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.” I honestly don’t know if I’m trying to reassure him or myself at this point.

“It’s not really a big…” he trails off. “It’s an anxiety thing, isn’t it?”

I nod and drop my gaze, grateful for the millionth time in the last five minutes the room is dark enough to hide my reddened expression. Judd’s fingers pinch my chin and lift my face to look at him. “What have I told you, Amelia?”

I stare at him blankly, not knowing what he’s talking about.

He sighs and traces his thumb below my bottom lip. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Now that I know being without your car gives you anxiety, I’ll figure out how to get your car back to the apartment after I get you home. Okay?”

I nod again, and he releases my chin and holds out his hand to me. “Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, I take Judd’s hand and he pulls me up. After tucking the towel back into my oversized bag, I grab Bruno’s leash and clip it back on him before we say our goodbyes and head back out of the library. Judd has me wait at the entrance while he pulls his Jeep up to the bottom of the stairs, trying to keep my movement to a minimum. I think he’d carry me if I let him. Which I won’t because that would just be embarrassing.

Tempting, though.

I’m soaking in a hot bath with my Epsom salts and an ice pack behind my neck, trying to remind myself why I’ve been avoiding Judd in the first place. I’m not doing a very good job. When we got back to my apartment, Judd asked if he could come in to help me get settled. The short car ride made me even more nauseous than I was to begin with, so I just waved him in as I unclipped Bruno’s leash and headed to my bedroom.

Judd found me sitting on the edge of my bed, staring into my bathroom. When he asked what I needed, I told him I usually take a hot bath with an ice pack behind my neck and that I was just trying to psych myself up to get my bath ready. He left the room and came back with one of my blue moldable ice packs. He handed it to me and asked how hot I liked my baths.

When I told him ‘Hot enough to make a man cry’, he just laughed and rolled up the sleeve of his sweater and went into the bathroom. I laid on the bed with my ice pack while I watched him run me a bath, checking the water frequently and adjusting the nobs to make sure it was just right.

Fun fact: it was perfect.

Before I got into the bath. Judd asked if I needed Bruno or if he was okay to take him with him to go get my car. The rain had stopped by the time we reached our building, and according to his weather app, it wasn’t supposed to start up again until later tonight. He said a walk would be good for both of them. It had been a few days since I had been able to take Bruno for a long walk, so I told Judd to take him. With a wink and a promise to be back soon, I watched the man I don’t want to have feelings for take my dog with him to go get my car so I wouldn’t worry about it being left in the library parking lot overnight.

I feel like an absolute bitch for running from him the other day. I think I owe him an apology.

With the bathwater getting cold and my migraine now at a more tolerable pain level, I flip the drain and get out of the bath. Toweling off, I wrap the towel around me and move into my bedroom. I walk to the dresser and grab the softest pair of leggings I own and a camisole and pull them on. Not wanting to wear a bra, I snag the hoodie I borrowed from Judd on Halloween night and pull that on too, so it’s not obvious I’m braless.

Grabbing the ice pack off the side of the tub, I walk into the kitchen to swap it out with a new one. My stomach lets out a growl, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything since convincing myself to choke down a slice of peanut butter toast and a banana this morning. Looking at the time on the stove, and deciding it’s close enough to dinner time, I open the fridge to find a yogurt, two eggs, and a bunch of random condiments.

Take out it is.

Taking my hair down from the claw clip and laying out on the couch, I tuck the ice pack behind my neck and pull up the website to my favorite Chinese food place. I’m ordering hot and sour soup and trying to guess what Judd would like too when I hear the jingle of my keys on the other side of the door. The door pushes open and Bruno jogs in. When he sees me laying on the couch, he wiggles his body and comes over to greet me, snout crinkled in a smile.

“Hey buddy, did you have a nice walk with Judd?” I croon to him. He wiggles his butt faster in response, so I take that as a yes.

Judd comes in next with an arm full of bags. Peaking over the bags, he sees me laying on the couch and gives me a grin. “You look better. How’s the pain level?”

I return the smile and give Bruno one last scratch before sitting up, pulling my feet up and resting my chin on my knees. “Better. Manageable,” I tell him, watching him go into the kitchen to set the bags he’s carrying on the counter. I’m about to ask him what he has in the bags when the smell of Chinese food hits my nose. I inhale a deep breath, and my stomach rumbles in response.

Judd pauses amid unloading the bags and stares at me, eyebrows raised. “Was that your stomach?”

My face heats and I mumble a ‘Yes’ from where my face is hidden behind my knees.

“Well, it’s a good thing I called Charlie and asked her what you normally eat when you have migraines and don’t feel like eating.” I sit in stunned silence as I watch him pull out a large container of what I’m hoping is my hot and sour soup, along with various other containers.

Looking up from the food, Judd tilts his head at me and says, “Tell me where the bowls are and I’ll dish you up so you don’t have to get up.”

Where the hell did this man come from? I’ve never had anyone offer to get me a plate so I can relax on the couch.

Feeling awkward that he even offered and not really understanding why, I rise from the couch and walk into the kitchen, grabbing a plate and a bowl from the cabinet and set them down next to the containers and handing the plate to Judd. “I can do it, but thank you. You are a lifesaver. I was actually just getting ready to order food from here when you came in.” Grabbing the soup container, I lift the lid and pour a generous amount into my bowl. Feeling Judd’s gaze on me I look up and see him staring. “What?”

Caught in the act, Judd shakes his head and laughs. I spy a little red poking out from under his beard, like he's embarrassed. “Nothing,” he says, grabbing a container and dumping some onto his plate.

“No, not ‘nothing’. Why were you staring at me like that?”

Grabbing a smaller container, Judd opens it and reaches in, grabbing what looks like barbecue pork and putting it on his plate. He shakes his head and smirks. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re short?”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can be a jolly green giant,” I grumble, bumping him with my hip, which hits him mid-thigh. Chuckling, he moves, and I dig out spoons and forks, setting them on the counter. Grabbing a spoon and napkin, I turn to leave when he stops me.

“Wait,” he says, rummaging around in a reusable bag I recognize from my car. “Here, chug this before eating,” he tells me, handing me a light blue sports drink.

“Why?” I question, setting my bowl down to twist the top off, taking two big gulps.

“The electrolytes help ease headaches.” Pointing a fork at me, he adds. “You’re probably dehydrated, drink up.”

I roll my eyes but do as I’m told because he’s not wrong. I have a tendency to forget to drink anything other than coffee when I’m on a deadline. Finishing the bottle, I hold up the empty container and shake it, showing him it’s empty.

“Good girl.”

I roll my eyes again and grab my bowl, trying to quiet the butterflies that took flight in my stomach at those words. The only women who like that are the ones I write about…right?

Turning away from him, I stop at Bruno’s food bowl and scoop his dinner into his dish before I head to the couch and take a seat, grabbing the remote from the side table. “Want to watch a movie or something? I mean, no pressure. We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I babble.

Smooth Amelia.

Plate piled high with more food than I could probably consume in two meals, Judd grabs a napkin from the food bag and comes into the living room, joining me on the other end of the couch. “Sure, what do you have in mind?”

I shrug and flip on the TV. My recently watched list pops up.

“Do you like The Office? ”

Judd snorts and holds up a finger to me as he chews his mouth full of food. “Does telling you I dressed up as Gold Face for Halloween two years ago answer your question?”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen,” I tell him, pointing my spoon at him.

Chuckling, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and swipes across his screen until he finds what he’s looking for. “Here,” he says, handing me the phone.

I take it and look at the picture. Judd is dressed in a suit with a gold tie, wearing what looks like a wig, holding up plastic handguns in each hand with a wide smile across his glittery gold face.

“That is epic,” I say, handing the phone back to him. Our fingers brush when he takes it back and I pull my hand back quickly when I feel a little zap. He must feel it too because he’s staring at me with what I assume is a matching expression to mine.

Judd clears his throat and puts his phone back in his pocket. “Must be static from the next storm rolling in,” he says before going back to his food.

That has to be it, because there can’t be any other reason why, I tell myself.