Page 47 of The Virgin Game Plan (Rules of Love 2)
Laughing, I toss my head back. “Looks like ‘this baseball thing’ did work out. Which means now you have to talk to the press about baseball,” I say lightly, then turn serious, getting to the heart of the matter. “The trouble is, Holden, it’s not just that you don’t enjoy talking to the press. It’s clear from how you talk that you actively dislike them.”
“Ouch,” he says, and he winces too.
I pat his shoulder in sympathy—his very strong and muscular shoulder. “So I think we have to deal with whether it makes sense to be that straightforward. That honest.”
He stops in front of a bakery, leveling me with an intense stare. “I don’t want to be a liar, Reese. That’s not who I want to be.”
His green eyes are etched with strength, with certainty. This matters to him. The kind of person he is is important to him. That is so damn sexy.
“It’s a balancing act. You want to be yourself, but you want to present your best self,” I say.
He bristles. “I feel like honesty is part of my best self.”
“But it might not be the best approach with the media.”
He’s quick to answer with “That’s why I’ve been so focused on ‘No comment.’ Because I don’t want to pretend to be someone else. I don’t want to talk to the media then have it be twisted. And I don’t want to talk to them and spout platitudes that feel like lies.”
His concerns seem legitimate given what happened to him with that reporter. And I want him to know I understand where he’s coming from. “So, you want to present a better image to the press, but you also don’t want to feel like a liar?” I ask.
“Exactly. That’s not who I want to be,” he says with a new intensity, like he’s delivering an impassioned speech, as we resume our pace through the terminal. “I wasn’t raised that way by my parents. I was raised to be open and honest and forthright.”
“And those are all good things,” I reassure him, touching his shoulder again.
His gaze drifts down to my hand on him. “Are you going to keep doing that?”
“Should I stop?”
“No. Please don’t,” he says in a low voice. “But fair warning—that makes me want to do the same to you.”
“I wouldn’t object.”
He brushes a strand of hair off my shoulder, and sparks flame all over my skin. I’m this close to becoming a bonfire, so I return to safe ground. But ground that I enjoy traversing—the getting-to-know-you terrain.
“What are they like? Your parents?” I ask as we head outside, toward the railing by the bay, stopping there and wrapping our hands around it. I take a sip of my macchiato as he answers, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing his ink.
“They’re definitely honesty is the best policy kind of people. Another truism of theirs is If you tell the truth, you don’t have to keep track of a lie. More than anything, that’s why I struggle with the so-called Crash Davis School of Public Relations.”
That says a lot about him. It yanks the window wide open onto Holden Kingsley, and I like the view. A whole helluva lot. “You’re a lot like your parents.”
“I hope so. Hell, they’re why I have this tattoo,” he says, his gaze drifting down to the elegant tree on his forearm.
It’s a strong, sturdy tree, more stylized than realistic. “Tree for family,” I say, getting the meaning instantly.
“Exactly. I got it when I was drafted.”
“Right before you started in the minors? Why then?” I ask, curious to understand him even more. Every conversation reveals more of the onion of the man, as Tia put it.
“It was the next phase of my life. And I wanted to stay centered. To make sure I didn’t lose sight of my goals. It’s easy to be distracted by fame or riches. Though, to be fair, I had no idea if I’d have either,” he says with a laugh. “Or success, for that matter.”
“So you did this,” I say, tracing the trunk of the tree lightly with my free hand, “to stay focused.”
His green eyes swing to my fingers on his skin, then back up to me. “Yes. Have to keep my eye on the prize.” It comes out a little rough, a little gravelly.
There’s another layer to his words, as if they carry over to me. Like maybe I distract him from the prize—career, family, success.
Or perhaps I’m reading something into nothing. Perhaps I’m wishing to see something that isn’t there.
But still, knowing how close he is to them will help me keep my eye on the prize of helping him.
My brain cycles through various approaches for Holden with the press. But I’m not entirely sure yet, so I keep asking questions. “They sound like great people. You’re still close to them, aren’t you?”
