Page 35

CHAPTER 35

ROSE

W hat the hell is happening?

First, a player from the opposite team barges into our clubhouse, and the guy bears a shocking resemblance to Logan that tells me this must be the infamous brother.

Then out come Hope and Logan, and Logan is undoing his pants right behind her. Which can only mean one thing—Logan is injured. The replay kinda made it look like that wild ball might’ve hit him near the… well, dangly bits. That must be hurting a lot.

I need to get this strange guy out so Hope can do her work.

“Excuse me,” I call out louder because he ignored me the first time. “I asked you to please leave before I call security.”

“Security?” Lewis Kim turns ice cold eyes back to me, making my shoulders tense. “Please, what are they going to do to me? I’m an Eagle.”

“What are they going to do?” I ask back sarcastically. “They’re going to escort you out of here, and then I’ll personally file a complaint against your team that will get you suspended. How about that?”

“Rose,” Logan warns, now right behind me.

“Ohh…” Lewis elongates the exclamation. “So this is the famous girlfriend.”

“What are you doing here, Lewis?” Logan’s voice is a low growl, danger lurking beneath. A shiver racks my spine.

Lewis puts his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants and rocks on his heels. “That looked like a pretty bad hit so I was worried about you. Are you sure you’ll still be able to give me nephews and nieces?”

Logan takes a step closer that puts him almost beside me, and everything in his body language screams that he’s about to do something unlike him. “What I’m going to give you is?—”

My mind whirrs. There is absolutely no way I’ll let Logan risk a suspension for roughhousing this jerkface, especially because in theory Lewis has done nothing to deserve it.

“Out!” I bark and push at Lewis Kim’s chest. “You’re trespassing and?—”

Suddenly there’s an impact against my sternum.

Air whooshes out of my lungs and I hurl backward.

Except that I don’t go far because I slam into a steel bar—no, not a steel bar. An arm. It twirls me around until I bump into Logan’s padded chest. I gasp into it, my arms curled protectively against my throbbing chest.

“Oops, sorry,” Lewis says behind me. “I just wanted to show you that shoving others isn’t nice. Did I go too far?”

That’s when I get it. I get every warning that Logan has ever given me.

Lewis just shoved me hard enough to bruise. Who knows what else he could do as an oopsie. This guy is freaking unhinged.

“Hope,” Logan says above my head just as he pulls me away from him by my arms. “Take Rose and get away.”

“No,” I wheeze. My heart beats faster than I can catch breath. “Logan, don’t?—”

Hope yanks me away from Logan and wraps her arms around me from behind, tight enough to hurt and also to make me understand that she won’t let me go anywhere. Logan glances over his shoulder and when he’s satisfied with Hope’s work, he nods at her. Then he tosses his mask on the floor and rushes at his brother.

“No! Logan!”

“Mierda,” Hope whispers in my ear.

Logan shoves Lewis so hard that he crashes against the doors. They swing wide and the Eagles pitcher loses his footing, crashing on the floor in the corridor. Voices outside quiet down.

“You wanted to teach her a lesson? I’ll be the one teaching you something, asshole,” Logan growls. All I can see is his back to us but somehow Lewis’s disbelieving expression is clear between Logan’s legs. “Don’t you dare touch my woman again.”

Hope and I turn to statues.

I turn my face toward her in robotic increments. “What did he just…”

“Oh my,” Hope breathes out, a smile forming on her lips.

But then Lewis scoffs. “Your woman?” He shifts to sit up and I can no longer see his face, only how he brushes his hands off. “My sources tell me she’s not really your girlfriend, that all of this is a publicity stunt and yet—” He cuts himself off to stand back up. “Don’t tell me she’s the real reason why you refuse to move back to the Eagles?”

Hope’s arms relax a tad. “What did he just say?”

“I—No, it’s not…” But I don’t even know how to explain when I’m still reeling. How does Lewis knows all of this?

“Is that it?” Logan asks so low that I can barely hear. “Is that why you’re causing this scene? You think this will somehow convince me to form a battery with you again?”

“What can I say, you’re the only one who can make the calls that draw out my full potential.” Lewis takes a step closer. “Don’t you get it? I’m paying you a compliment, little brother.”

“I don’t need shit from you, get out of my face.” Logan pushes Lewis away from him again, less forcefully this time.

“The sources you claimed to have,” I cut in with a loud, firm voice that forces all the attention back on me. “Who are they?”

In looking back at me, Logan creates enough space for me to meet Lewis’s creepy eyes again. He smirks at his brother. “Looks like you got yourself a smart girlfriend this time around—if that’s what she really is.” But Logan blocks me again, getting in the way so that Lewis can’t come back in. “Aww, c’mon, Logan. Your lady friend and I are having a conversation.”

“Go back to your nest, you damn?—”

“It’s Kaplan,” Lewis says over Logan. “Your agent also wants you to do the right thing and come back to play for me, little bro. We’re just concerned that you’re spiraling, and all for some random woman who is probably after your fortune.”

“Screw off, you freaking weirdo. Logan is lucky to have Rose!” Hope shouts at him, making me flinch at the volume, even if the sentiment is touching. I tap her arms and she finally lets go.

“Security,” Logan calls out as some steps approach. “Take this straggler back to his clubhouse and keep him there.”

“Mr. Kim, you’re not supposed to be here,” a stranger’s voice comes from the corridor.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Was just checking that my little brother is okay.” Lewis’s feet shift away from Logan, and the latter finally closes the door.

That’s when I notice two things. One, that Logan is breathing much harder than when he came in after the inning. And two, that we’re not alone—and I don’t mean because of Hope.

“What the hell just happened?” Cade asks behind us and the question makes Logan hang his head.

“A small accident,” I respond right away, looking pointedly at my roommate. “Right, Hope?”

“Right,” she says right away. “Y’all should go back out to the dugout.”

“McDonald, find something to secure the door with,” Rob Beau, the team’s manager says and my shoulders slump. “Garcia, can you assess Kim quickly? I need to know if he can play the next inning.”

Logan bends forward to pick up his mask. “I’m fine.”

There is no way in hell he’s fine. I’m about to say as much when someone beats me to the punch.

“Are you?” Lucky surprises me by asking, but his eyes are narrowed in a weird way. “Moving to the Eagles, I mean.”

A ripple of whispers travels through the men flooding the clubhouse.

Logan tightens his jaw before speaking. “I am not.” That settles a deep silence among everybody, except for the sounds trickling into the tunnel from the stadium. “I was thinking about it but not anymore. And once this game is over I’m canning my damn agent and maybe even suing his ass,” he finishes in a growl.

My jaw drops. “Wait, you are? I mean, aren’t? I mean—” I shake my head hard.

“Whew.” Lucky lets out a laugh. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, man. You’re absolutely insufferable but no one wants you to leave,” Cade adds. A bunch of yeahs punctuate his sentence.

Logan’s face twitches like he can’t decide which expression best suits the occasion. Like actually, he just can’t figure out how he feels.

“Okay, you guys. The clock is ticking and Hope needs to look at Logan,” I say, waving my arms to herd them out of the clubhouse.

“Can’t I stay back to inspect the work?” Cade whines.

“No,” I respond, pushing at him to activate his feet, and since Cade isn’t a grade-A ass he complies.

“Is it always this dramatic here?” Miguel asks me.

But Lucky palms his back and says, “You’ll get used to it.”

The last one to exit is Beau, and for some reason he’s chuckling. He glances between Logan and me a couple of times before following the rest of his team out to the dugout.

When there’s supposed to be peace at last, my legs buckle from under me and I slide to the floor.

“Shit, Rose.” Logan jumps to his feet from the bench, but his pants are down at his knees, caught by his kneepads, so he can’t really go far.

Beside him, Hope has a Bengay spray in her hand and she tosses it at Logan before running over. “Talk to me, Rosie. What’s wrong? Did that jackass really hurt you?” She kneels in front of me all worried and in a much bigger panic than when she had to take care of Logan’s potential injury.

I prop myself up by my hands, shaking my head hard. “No, I’m fine. I suddenly… Logan, why are your boxers nude color? You look naked.”

Hope presses her lips tight. “Is that why you almost fainted? You thought your boyfriend was naked?”

“I—no, um…”

Logan pulls up his pants enough that he can walk over without tripping, and then to my shock he lowers to sit right beside me against the wall. He sighs. “It’s so they don’t show through the white pants that are too damn thin.”

“That makes sense. No need to flash people.” I bob my head as if that was the most important part of this whole night’s events.

Hope extends her hand out to Logan. “Spray yourself. I’m gonna go tell Beau that you’re just mildly bruised and check on the time.”

“Thanks,” Logan whispers.

As I watch Hope go, intense booing from the crowd filters into the clubhouse, which means we must’ve stolen a base or scored.

A bump on my shoulder gets my attention again, and it’s from Logan shifting to pull his pants back down. I try not to stare, but it’s really weird to see skin color boxers on a guy.

He folds his left leg, exposing a massive bruise on the inner thigh that I wouldn’t define as mild . I watch as he sprays himself, and the medicine makes my nose itch. I sniff and he looks up right away.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” I frown. “The spray is making me want to sneeze.”

“Sorry. I’ll stop.”

“Are you kidding?” I grab his hand holding the can and pull it back over his thigh. “Keep going.”

“But—”

“Logan Kim, I will douse that whole can on you myself if I must.”

He sighs but keeps going, and after a while he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Me?” I blink hard. “I’m not the one who got pelted by a ball going at a million miles per hour.”

“No, but you got Lewis Kim’ed and that’s way worse.”

I fully turn to stare at his profile and he pretends like his sole focus remains on the spray.

I think I know what that avoidance means now. Logan doesn’t want me to peek into his eyes or I might get a glimpse of what’s really going through his head. It must not be pleasant.

“I get you now.”

He tenses and lifts his face. “What?”

My lips curl into a sad little smile that captures his attention, and it’s what makes his finger stop pressing on the spray bottle nozzle. “I understand why you warned me off,” I whisper.

Logan turns his face away and I watch the powerful muscles of his neck as they bulge out. His throat works a heavy swallow. “I told you, I’m screwed up. You don’t need that drama in your life, especially not after your ex?—”

Leaning on my right hand, I twist to hold his jaw and turn his face just a bit. I press my lips on his cheek, right on the bare skin over the sharp line of his stubble. Goodness, he smells so good that I can’t help lingering. When I pull away, I put a little more pressure on his jaw so that he doesn’t turn away yet, and run my fingers over the soft stubble.

“You are so not like your relatives, you silly man.” I smile. “And thank goodness for that.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “I?—”

“Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds,” Hope says, poking her head out of the tunnel beside me. “There’s like thirty seconds to the next inning and Logan’s catching services are necessary.”

“Right!” I squeak, dropping my hand. “You better go.”

It almost seems like Logan wants to protest, but with a grunt, he grabs onto his pants and gets up. I watch from the floor as he bends forward to pull up the garment. He glances at me as he tucks his shirt into his pants, which strikes me as a scene that should be illegal, but leaves after Hope without saying another word.

I grab the Bengay can and shake it a bit. It seems like he didn’t empty it on himself. Pulling my team polo up, I free my chest to spray before the bruise starts forming on my chest.