Page 33 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
“How’s everything? How’s Becky? I hear you guys have some exciting news.” I brace myself for him to share how wonderfully excited he is to bring new life into the world, though he’ll probably cheat on Becky too, and divorce her as soon as the kid is potty-trained.
Or becomes a teenager.
Depends on how long it takes till he’s caught sticking his dick someplace else.
He chatters on about the pregnancy, serving up details that I don’t care about.
“How wonderful that the baby is the size of a honeydew melon.” My phone buzzes, thank God, and a quick check of the screen tells me my Lyft is here. “Dad, I have to go to an event for work.”
“Are you free tomorrow? I’d love to talk more. Maybe invite you to a ball game.”
Right. That’s what I want to do. Go see baseball with my pops. Grab some popcorn and peanuts and talk about which pitcher has the best fastball.
Ugh.
“Sure, call me tomorrow.”
Hanging up, I do my best to put him out of my mind.
I arrive at the Legion of Honor, the museum hosting the event, and it’s a whirlwind of canapés and conversation.
I join Adriana, and we network our hearts and feet out, meeting clients, talking to athletes, and chatting with everyone. I’m on for three hours with her. When the event starts to wind down, she shoots me a smile, grabs her purse, and pats her big pregnant belly.
“On that note, this baby and I need to curl up with our full-body pillow and crash. You’re welcome to take off anytime or to hang and eat more shishito peppers and ricotta toast.”
“It’s hard to beat those shishito peppers,” I say.
She narrows her eyes and faux hisses. “I’m jealous. I can’t eat anything yummy without getting heartburn. Oh wait, I can’t eat anything without getting heartburn.”
“My mistake. What I meant to say is the peppers were awful and the ricotta was dreadful,” I say, with an exaggerated yuck face.
Adriana nods wisely. “That’s what I thought you said.” She gestures to the exit. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.”
I spend another half hour circulating, chatting and not stuffing my face. The food is great, but my job here isn’t to scrape together enough apps for a meal.
When the soiree continues to wind down, I spot some late arrivals.
One of them looks like the third baseman for the Cougars.
Crosby Cash.
Right behind him is Chance Ashford, the closing pitcher.
Then, my heart stops. All the air in my lungs rushes out.
Dark hair. Broad shoulders. A strong back I dragged my hands down. Clothes can’t hide the muscles. The man is toned everywhere.
But can that be him?
There’s no way that can be Holden.
There’s no way I’m running into him already.
It’s an optical illusion. That is someone else.
Then he turns around, scans the room, and his eyes lock on mine.
This is not a drill.
There’s an entire orchestra playing in my chest, hosting a concert celebrating his return.
Years seem to melt away.
And I know. I just know.
He doesn’t have a girlfriend.
He says something to his friends, and then he walks toward me.
12
Holden
What the hell?
The text from my agent lands on my phone as I finish my four-mile run a block away from my gym, sweat-soaked but full of adrenaline, and now vinegar.
I stare at the note one more time, willing it away.
* * *
Josh: Dragons just nixed their manager. Hiring a new one for the start of the season.
* * *
I heave all the sighs in the fucking city as I dial him. After a quick exchange, I dive into the deep and murky end. “Opening Day is literally tomorrow. I just returned from spring training.” I drag my hand across my jaw, annoyed as fuck. “What kind of club does this? Fire the manager right before the season starts? Wouldn’t this have been better, say, before spring training?”
“It would indeed,” Josh says diplomatically, with a light laugh. “But these are the growing pains of the reorganization and the new management. They’re trying to make changes. They have deep pockets now, thanks to the new ownership structure. We need to remember that, Holden, and we need to remember that too because they were able to fork over some good money for you.”
“Fine. I get it.” I take a deep breath, settling myself. He’s right. As annoying as it is, the Dragons ponied up when it came to negotiations. The contract I snagged this year will go a long way toward changing my family’s life. Hell, it’ll pay for my brothers’ college. Times two.
“I’ll do everything to get an answer from them quickly,” Josh says, reassuring me as I reach the gym. “And listen, now that you’ve called, I’m getting some bites for sponsorships, but . . . here’s the thing.”
I stop in my tracks outside the door, bracing my hand on the brick wall. Here’s the thing is the prelude to a kiss of death. “What’s the thing?” I ask.
