Page 54 of Under Pressure

“It was friendly. Either I stayed with him or I found a hotel,” I tell her defensively.

Her smugness is obvious in her reply. “I didn’t say it wasn’t. Your brain went there all on its own.”

“It probably won’t happen again. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I highly doubt that’s how he sees you.”

“Yeah, well. I doubt he wants some random girl hogging his guest room.”

I assume that would make dating hard. Or hooking up. Whatever it is that Beck does. Most likely the latter, if the few articles I’ve read in the last few days mean anything. Though . . . he did make a point of explaining that he isn’t doing that anymore.

It doesn’t matter, I remind myself.

“Random girl? Maybe you’re more tired than you’re willing to admit because that’s insane.”

“We’re done talking about this, okay? I’m good, and I’m getting all this shit sorted as soon as I can. For now, just focus on school. I have to update Eli.”

“Don’t worry about him. I already told him.”

My brows jump. “You talk that often?”

“It was a simple update, Quinn. Don’t be dramatic,” she drawls, throwing my words back at me.

A couple of minutes later, we hang up, and I go back to my texts. There are a few new ones, all from the same number.

Beck

Going out on the field in 5. Got the front desk at home to add you to the list of visitors so you can go up without issues whenever you’re ready. Door code is 6719.

If you’re not done at the shop till later, I can swing by and pick you up. Need anything?

The texts are all very domestic. Like this is our usual routine, and that’s tripping my mind up a bit. Nothing about this is normal. We don’t shoot messages to each other during the day, and I don’t help myself to his multi-million-dollar condo whenever I please. Having my name on a list reserved for those close to him unsettles me. What have I done to deserve that?

Hesitating to reply, I distract myself by flicking on the TV andfinding the game. It hasn’t started yet, so I’m forced to watch two guys in suits sit at a desk and gossip about the team. At first, they recap the earlier games in the season, going on and on about their win-to-loss ratio. Apparently, the Havoc have a very good one. Better than it was the prior two years.

It all sounds incredibly boring until I catch a familiar name. Finn Avery is one of the pitchers—I think everyone in Vancouver knows that—and also the guy Callie went out with on a date a few months ago. It wasn’t a real one, as far as I’m aware, but some sort of test for his best friend, Aubrey. Hers is another name that I’m familiar with after hearing it a few times around Blank Page and from Beck’s mouth last night.

There seem to be quite a few people in Beck’s life, both personally and professionally. It’s intimidating, if I’m being honest.

The guy on the left, who opted out of a tie and instead has his dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, nods along with his partner before steering the conversation. “I think Shore is hoping for at least six innings from Avery this afternoon. Anything less and the bullpen’s going to feel it. If we’re being brutally honest here, this team would already be number one in the division if the reliever’s arms were stronger. They’ve got the hitting power to win the majority of the next two series, even with Asher Vaughn still out of the lineup.”

“You don’t think they’re feeling that loss, though? Sure, they’ve managed to carry the weight behind him, but Vaughn is a massive asset to the team this season. Roman Shore was asked about when we should expect him back, and this is what he had to say.”

The second guy nods, and the screen swaps to a camera capturing an interview. The lighting is much dimmer wherever they are. A hallway, maybe. There’s a green and grey wall behind the black-haired man with black hoops in the top curve of his ear. He’s older than I am, in his forties, if I had to guess.There’s an authority to him that makes me think he’s the guy in charge of the team.

“Yeah, we’re playing it by ear. No confirmed date at the moment. Once I know more, you’ll be the first to know,” he says, voice calm, in control.

Someone close by asks, “Is it an injury? Should we expect Velasco to stay on the lineup for a while longer, or are there more moves coming?”

“We haven’t gotten there yet.”

“Do you think Asher will be back by the end of the home stand?”

Even I’m getting annoyed with these questions. It isn’t surprising in the slightest to see the strain in the black-haired man’s expression. Luckily for me, the interview cuts off, and we pan back to the desk.

“They’re playing it close to the chest, so for now, we’ll have to wait and see. But we do know that Velasco has been holding his own so far. I personally hope to see Asher back on the Havoc bench as soon as possible.”

“That makes two of us.”