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TWELVE

SCOUT

Y ou know you can build a house out of Twizzlers?

They’re kind of like Lincoln Logs, except red. And instead of being made of plastic logs it’s made of candy.

If you lick the ends, you can get them to stick to each other, which makes it easier to create stability in the structure. It’s a great way to pass the time when you’re supposed to be concentrating on anything else.

Plus, at the end you can eat it.

It’s something I learned while reading through the very extensive job description I’d finally been sent: develop strategy, create content, analyze data, manage channels. All the usual roles. It was what I did now.

Except, right now, I only had one brand to oversee. This would add another two: the Jungle Kings, and this new brand—the New York Lions corporate brand, which currently didn’t exist.

I would need to build it.

I’d started working on my Twizzlers house while staring at my screen because it stopped me from flicking between the job description, the New York Lions corporate website, and the Jungle Kings website, and any other website I could read to pass the time.

This would be a bigger role than I’d originally thought. Much bigger.

Full days. Longer hours. More traveling. I’d need to go out to White Plains, for sure.

I wasn’t even entirely sure where White Plains was.

Could I do the job? Maybe.

Did I want the job? I hadn’t decided.

Was I excited about a new opportunity?

It wasn’t the word I would use. Or perhaps I would, but I’d also add nervous, anxious, and apprehensive. Even though I was sure they all meant the same thing.

I’d only been at the Lions for a year. I’d come from a small social brand agency where I’d started as an intern straight out of school. Moving from an office of six people to one where it seemed to double in size every week was daunting.

It took me a month to learn everyone’s names, and a year on, I still saw a new person every day.

It was only now, with one season under my belt, that I felt fully comfortable in my role. I’d worked my butt off. I’d learned from mistakes I’d made and gotten better at my job as a result. All I’d felt coming into my second year was excitement. Excitement about building the team and watching it grow.

Now I’d have to start over, find my feet again, figure out how to do a job with three times the amount of work. Plus I’d never built a social presence from scratch before. The comfort zone I built wasn’t quite so comfortable anymore.

It wasn’t like anyone was forcing me to take the job

Or that I’d even get offered it if I did apply.

Yet a small, tiny part deep inside me was whispering that I’d be letting someone down if I didn’t, and I wouldn’t be given another opportunity like this again.

I should be grateful.

“You’re missing a piece of the roof,” Parker announced, pulling out the chair and sitting down opposite me.

Leaning forward, I peered over the top of the house and spotted the gap he mentioned, snapped off another strand of red licorice, and stuck it down. “Thanks.”

“Is this what counts as work in the social team?” he asked, folding his arms behind his head as he leaned back.

His biceps flexed so impressively I almost forgot what I was doing. I didn’t even think he was doing it on purpose, that’s just how they were.

Giant biceps from years of baseball. I wasn’t sure if his black Lions tee made them look bigger because it was slightly on the snug side, or if the tee was snug because they were so big. Because he was big.

Athletic. Honed. Taut.

Take a picture, Scout. It’ll last longer .

I managed to tear my focus away from his body to his face and watched as the corner of his mouth lifted higher on the left, almost disappearing into the stubble on his cheek.

A crooked smirk, shooting straight at me, that said he knew exactly what I was thinking, or not thinking, because that smirk vanquished all the questions whirling around in my brain and the anxiety in my belly, and replaced it with a heat I’d not felt in a while.

“Yeah. You get to catch a ball for a living, I do this.” I laughed back eventually.

“Fair argument.”

“Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“I’m on my way, happened to be walking past and spotted you,” he looked around the empty dining hall, “and I’m never going to pass up an opportunity to say hello to my friend .”

There was that word again. Or rather, the way he said it.

Like there was so much more to it.

Like it was the beginning of something, a path I hadn’t yet walked down.

“Do they frown on candy houses upstairs?”

“It’s quiet down here.” I shrugged. “I needed to think.”

“With Twizzlers?”

“I like Twizzlers.”

“I see that, and playing with them requires a lot of brain strength,” he teased, leaning forward. The front legs of his chair thudded on the ground.

“It does, actually. You should try it sometime.”

“I might,” he replied, propping his arms on the table. It brought him closer to me, close enough that I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. But I could feel them on me, studying almost. “Scout, you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I answered, but then my gaze flicked up to his deep green eyes, and a sigh escaped me before I could stop it. “Remember I told you about this job they’ve asked me to go for?”

“The one stopping you from dating me?” His lips rolled tight as he tried to hold his grin. “Sure, how could I forget?”

He was playing with me, but it I didn’t stop my shoulder dropping. “Oh—never mind.”

“Davison, I’m teasing.” He reached over and nudged my clenched fists. “Come on, tell me. I promise I’m a good listener.”

“I got the job description yesterday, and I’ve been reading up on it. It’s way bigger than I thought it was, more hours. More work. It’s doing things I’ve not done before.”

His head tilted left. I could see from the look on his face that he was having a hard time figuring out why I didn’t sound more excited, because it really was an awesome opportunity. “Is that not a good thing?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Parker picked up a piece of Twizzler and stuck it into the roof, like a little chimney. “You don’t sound so sure.”

“It’s a big step up. I’ve only been here a year.”

“But can you do it?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

He was silent for a minute, sticking down another piece of Twizzler, this time into a little path in front of the house. “Scout, if they didn’t think you could do it, they wouldn’t have asked you. I’ve been with the Lions since before Shepherd took over, and I speak from experience about what it was like before, and the difference it is now. I can tell you that Shepherd only hires the best. He has no weak links here.”

I glanced up as a couple of the team PTs wandered over to the coffee machines. I half expected them to tell Parker to get to practice, but neither of them seemed to notice he was in here.

“Shepherd didn’t hire me.”

“But he hired whoever hired you. Therefore, he hired you,” Parker shot back. “Scout, what’s got you worried about this? You’re awesome on social. We have so many more followers since you took over. Plus, you’re funny. You kill it with replies to our haters.”

My brows knitted together.

It was true, I did like to reply to the Lions haters, and a couple of times they’d been pulled out by bigger social channels like MLB.com or ESPN, but I was part of a team, and they could have come from anyone.

“Um, Parker? How do you know someone else didn’t write them?”

He shifted forward slightly, just slightly, but it was enough to make my heart rattle against my rib cage, especially when he pinned me with those bright green eyes of his. “Because I like you, and that qualifies me to know which ones are yours and which ones aren’t yours. I know.”

“Oh.”

“So I’m saying with my qualifications?—”

“Of liking me?”

“Yes. In my qualifications of liking you, I can wholeheartedly say that you will be awesome for this job. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“You’re a Lion. We were born out of adversity. We rise to a challenge, and we usually come out on top. If we don’t, then at least we tried. If you don’t want to apply for the job, then don’t apply for it. But don’t not apply because you’re worried you won’t be able to do it.” He sat back again, his eyes darting to the doors before back on me. “I have no doubt that you can.”

My cheeks burned at his compliment. “Thanks, Parker. I appreciate the support.”

“Hey,” he shrugged, “what are friends for?”

Smiling, I picked up one of the packets of Twizzlers and thrust it at him. “Want one?”

“Thought you were never going to offer.” He grinned, easing one out and biting down on it with straight white teeth, shining through his perfect smile as he stared at me.

It should have had my nerves in a tizzy with how intense it was, but perhaps my nerves at figuring out this job description had all been used up because I did nothing but smile and stare right back as the pair of us chewed down on our Twizzlers.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?” he replied.

“Why didn’t you ask me out last year?”

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. “Because I’m an idiot.”

“Seriously—”

“Yeah, seriously because I’m an idiot.” He grinned again, though taking in my raised eyebrow, he leaned forward. “I guess the long version is that last season was hard. Ace started so badly, and we’re a team. The two of us play so closely together, and he was hurting. It was hard when he got benched. I wanted to give him all my support. If I’d asked you out, then I would have wanted to spend all my time with you, when Ace needed me and the boys. Then when he started pitching again, and I went to ask you out, you were dating Rangers Douche.”

I blinked a couple of times. “Oh.”

“So, I waited.” He stayed there, once more holding my gaze, until he pushed out of his chair. “I need to head to practice before my coach sends out a search party.”

“Okay.”

“I’m okay with waiting for you, Davison. I’ve already gotten good at it. Once you have the job, and you’re ready to date me. I’ll be here.” He winked.

My mouth dropped.

By the time he’d disappeared out of sight, I still hadn’t closed it.

It took a lot to shock me into silence, but Parker King seemed to have been managing to do it for the best part of a month.

And when the afternoon rolled around, a box arrived on my desk filled with Twizzlers and a note signed, For your next construction project, I realized how truly screwed I was.