The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

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The Perfect Game: A Complete Sports Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 38

by Samantha Christy


  I chuckle, arranging the towel over my growing erection. I extend my neck and look up at her. “I can’t help it, Ry. I know what your hands feel like on me. I know what they feel like on every part of me.”

  She uses her fingers to force my head back into position so that I’m not looking at her. Then she proceeds to give me a massage unlike any other. She may claim she doesn’t want to see me again, but her hands tell me a much different story than her words.

  ~ ~ ~

  Being back in the dugout is bittersweet. All the guys are trying their best to make me feel welcome. But it’s still uncomfortable as shit knowing I’m not going out on that field. Knowing I have to stay in the dugout – useless and damaged.

  I look down at my arm and run my right hand along a line from my elbow to my thumb. Sometimes it burns or tingles when I do it, but I don’t mind, at least I’m feeling something there. I know it’s only been a month, but I expected to get the feeling back in my fingers. I thought maybe the doctors were wrong, or that once my elbow started to heal, my nerve would heal right along with it. I’m trying to stay positive. I keep telling myself these things take time. And I’m reminded around noon every Monday through Friday that I am making progress even though it may not seem like it.

  Still, I see the way the guys look at me. They all know it’s more than just a simple bone break. They know I won’t be back for the playoffs, something I might have managed if I were dealing with simply a fracture.

  I pull the stress ball out of my pocket. It goes with me everywhere. When I’m not squeezing it, I’m stretching rubber bands between my fingers, or I’m using the hand grip.

  I watch Caden give the signs to Cole, the pitcher he’s been paired with the most in my absence, and it feels like I’m the other-fucking-woman. They work perfectly together, just like we used to. And when Caden calls time to approach the mound, they even laugh. Just like we used to.

  After the inning, Caden removes his gear and sits next to me. “Cole’s good. One of the best,” he says to me privately. “But he’s not you.” He pats me on the back and then gets up to find his batting helmet.

  I stand up and go to the railing, resting my elbows on it as I peer into the stands. I miss this so badly it hurts. I miss the fans. I miss the field. I miss the camaraderie we have as a team. I miss the good times with my best friends.

  But despite all that, I find myself looking around at the crowd, wondering if Rylee is out there. And for the first time, I realize that when I leave here in a month, there is something else I might miss, too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I come in through the front doors of the hotel, drenched in sweat from my afternoon run. I ran two extra miles today after my PT session. Might as well. It’s not like I have to get ready for a night out. No more Fridays, she told me. I thought Rylee would give in as the week wore on, but she stuck to her guns.

  As I make my way to the elevator, I think I see a familiar face and do a double take.

  “Murphy?” I walk over to a sitting area by the reception desk to see my best friend’s girl parked on a couch reading a book. She has a small suitcase by her side.

  She looks up at me, smiling. “Surprise!”

  I look around to see if Caden is here. I know he couldn’t be because they went home to New York for three days and today they start a series in Kansas City. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a girl fly in for the weekend to see one of her best friends?”

  My heart soars to hear her say that. I’ve never had a chick as a best friend before, but Murphy has a way of working herself into your life whether you want her to or not. And at first, I didn’t want her to. She was nice and sophisticated and … freaking hot. She was also engaged to one of my closest friends. I know myself. It was only a matter of time before I fucked up and made a move.

  But miraculously, that never happened and now they are planning their wedding and she’s become more like a sister to me than anything else.

  “Yes. But why?”

  She just smiles at me and gathers her things.

  I shake my head. “What the hell did Caden tell you? It’s not like I’m wallowing in self-pity down here, Murphy. I’m fine.”

  “He said no such thing. I just miss you and I needed a vacation.”

  I look at her small suitcase. “Just how long do you plan on staying?”

  “I fly out Sunday night. I thought you could take me to the beach tomorrow so I could work on my tan.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “You’re not going to watch the game?”

  “I don’t watch every game, you know.”

  I stare her down.

  She gives me an eyeroll. “Okay, so we can stream it on my iPad.”

  I laugh. I’m pretty sure she never misses a game, even if she has to record them. When she’s not working at the gym, she lives, eats, and breathes baseball just like we do. She’ll make the perfect baseball wife – she has her own responsibilities separate from Caden, yet she’s as passionate about the game as any woman I’ve ever seen. What a change from when Caden first met her and she knew nothing about the sport.

  I pick up her suitcase. “You didn’t get a room, did you? I have a suite. You can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch. It’ll save you a few bucks.”

  Murphy backs up and studies me. “I’m sorry, I was looking for Brady Taylor, the guy who couldn’t care less who spends money and on what.”

  I laugh. “It’ll be fun. Don’t girls love sleepovers? Well, unless you think Caden will have an issue with it.”

  “There was a time when Caden didn’t want you to look at me, let alone share a suite with me. All you ever did was look at my boobs back then.”

  I shrug. “Can’t help it. It’s an unconscious habit.”

  She cocks her head sideways. “You don’t do it anymore.” I’m amused that she says it almost as if she’s upset about it.

  “That’s because you’re like my sister, Murphy, and that would be gross. Plus, Caden would kick my ass.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” she says. “I’m thinking it might be a draw.”

  “Come on. Let’s head on up so I can shower and give you a proper hug.”

  ~ ~ ~

  I throw on some clothes and towel-dry my hair before joining Murphy out in the living room.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” I ask.

  “Maybe I should ask you that,” she says. “I mean, I did kind of crash your party here. Did you have any plans?”

  I raise my arms out to my side. “My dance card appears to be empty. I’m all yours.”

  “What about the physical therapist?”

  I shake my head. “I told you. We’re just friends. It was a one-time thing anyway.”

  She chews on her lower lip as she studies me. “But you didn’t want it to be.”

  “Whatever. It is what it is,” I say, pouring myself a drink. “On to the next one.”

  I slam down the decanter a little too hard, spilling liquid out the top.

  Murphy walks over and uses a napkin to clean up my mess. “Maybe she would like to join us.”

  I laugh. “Not a chance. She said she wouldn’t go out with me unless . . . Wait, you’re brilliant.”

  I pull out my phone and type out a text to Rylee. Normally I don’t care to have the numbers of the girls I date. But Ry is more than that. She’s my physical therapist. And I think she just might be my friend.

  Me: I think I have just the thing to change your mind about going out.

  It takes her a few minutes to reply. All the while I stare at my phone, wondering what she could be doing late on a Friday afternoon if she’s not with me.

  Rylee: I doubt that.

  Me: Remember how you said we’d need a chaperone?

  Rylee: I was kidding, Brady. What, did you enlist Lenny or one of the A-team guys to be a third-wheel or something?

  Me: No. But what if I told you the chaperone was the home run girl?

  Rylee: Ca
den Kessler’s fiancée is in town?

  Me: The one and only.

  Rylee: I’m not going on a double date, Brady.

  Me: Caden is in Kansas City. If you were a good team therapist, you’d know that.

  Rylee: I do know that. I guess I just assumed they’d be here together. I mean, what is Murphy doing in Tampa without Caden? Wait, did you set this up just because I said I’d like to meet her?

  Me: She just showed up at the hotel. I knew nothing about it. Scout’s honor.

  Rylee: Why do I get the idea you were never a Boy Scout?

  Me: Very funny. You’ve got me there. But seriously, I did not have a hand in this. Murphy was asking what we should do tonight and I just thought of you. Like I told you weeks ago, I think you two will get along great. And you DID say you wanted to meet her. I’m trying to be nice here, Ry.

  Rylee: Okay, fine. But I still can’t go out tonight.

  Me: Why not?

  Rylee: I just can’t. Just leave it at that.

  I find myself having an emotion that I never have. Ever. I see red. I see some goddamned guy named Stryker. And I try to push it to the back of my mind.

  Rylee: But I might be able to meet up with you guys tomorrow night if she’s still in town.

  Me: Tomorrow would be fine. Can you be here at six? I’ll take you both out for dinner and drinks.

  Rylee: I think I can manage that.

  Me: Great. See you then.

  I put my phone away and turn to see that Murphy was watching over my shoulder. She gives me a smug smile.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I saw that,” she says.

  “Saw what?”

  “I saw your jaw tighten when she said she couldn’t go out tonight.”

  “You’re seeing things. I think planning your wedding has turned you into some love-crazed woman.”

  “Or maybe it has fine-tuned my senses. Come on, Brady. Admit that you like the girl.”

  I throw my hands up. “I like the girl,” I say. “I like a lot of girls, Murphy.”

  “Yeah, but you like her more. Don’t you?”

  “Are we in seventh grade?”

  She smirks at me before she walks over to pull her suitcase into the bedroom. “I’m going to shower the travel grime off, then you’re showing me the town.”

  “It’s not like you’ve never been here,” I call out after her. “You came down for a whole week during spring training this year.”

  She peeks her head out of the bathroom. “You’re right, I did. And I barely left the hotel room.”

  I laugh thinking of how giddy Caden was the week of her visit. “That’s my boy.”

  “No, that’s my boy,” she says, closing the door.

  I listen to her sing shamelessly in the shower. It’s unnatural for two people to be as fucking happy as they are.

  I walk in the bedroom and put her suitcase on the bed for her. I stare at the bed and think about what Rylee and I were doing on it just a week ago. Then I glance over to the closet where my Bumbershoot shirt sits, folded neatly on a shelf.

  Some people are just not meant to be happy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I open the passenger door to let Murphy in. She laughs at me. “There is no way you are fitting in the back seat of this car. But thanks for the gesture.”

  She slips into the back of Rylee’s SUV as I take my place in the front, but before I put on my seatbelt, I forge an introduction. “Rylee Kennedy, meet Murphy Cavenaugh.”

  Rylee turns around in her seat and shakes Murphy’s hand. “I’m so happy to meet you.” She holds up her arm, displaying a #MurphyStrong wristband. “I’m a big fan.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Murphy says. “I haven’t seen one of those in a while.”

  After Murphy rose to fame as the girl who got hit by Caden Kessler’s ball and then stole his heart, she was publicly humiliated by her ex who had been trying to extort money from Caden. After she bravely showed her face, refusing to let the ex get the best of her, fans printed t-shirts, hats, and wristbands in her honor.

  I turn to Rylee. “So you’ll show your support for Murphy, but not the team you work for?” I tease.

  “What are you talking about? I love the Hawks.”

  “Then how come you don’t wear t-shirts or hats?”

  “Brady, I wear a polo shirt with the Hawks logo every day at work.”

  “Only because you’re required to. When is the last time you’ve been to a game?”

  “I might have caught one just last week,” she says.

  “You did?” I say, surprised. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  She shrugs.

  Because she went with Stryker, that’s fucking why.

  “So where are we going?” she asks.

  When I tell her what restaurant we’re going to in Clearwater, she scolds me with her stare. “That’s an expensive place, Brady.”

  “The rules don’t apply tonight.”

  “Rules?” Murphy asks from the back seat.

  “Rylee has a rule that I’m not allowed to spend money frivolously. She’s all about being responsible and saving for the future.”

  Murphy laughs. “Oh, so that’s why.”

  “That’s why what?” I ask.

  “Rylee, you’ll be happy to know you are rubbing off on Brady. He wouldn’t let me waste money on a hotel room when he has a suite.”

  “Oh,” Rylee says, studying Murphy in the rearview mirror.

  For a split second, I think she looks at Murphy the way I look at Alex, but then she forces a smile.

  Murphy covers her mouth. “Oh my gosh, that didn’t come out right. We didn’t … he didn’t … I mean, Brady slept on the couch.”

  “It’s fine,” Rylee says curtly, eyes laser focused on the road in front of her.

  “I’m very happily engaged, Rylee,” Murphy says. “I don’t want you to think … I guess I should have kept my big mouth shut.”

  Murphy apologizes to me with her eyes. But she doesn’t need to. I’m amused by Ry’s reaction. She’s jealous. But what’s even more surprising is that I like it.

  “Brady helped get Caden and me together,” Murphy says. “Did he ever tell you that? He and Caden flew out to Iowa when I fled New York, and Brady made a very convincing argument for me to come back.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?” Ry says, looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

  “It’s true,” Murphy says. “Beneath that rough and roguish exterior, Brady Taylor is actually quite charming. But he only brings it out for those he truly cares about.”

  I give Murphy a cease and desist look, but she ignores me.

  “I happened to see a picture of the two of you at dinner last week,” Murphy continues. “And he looked like he was being very charming.”

  I’m beginning to get the feeling that Murphy has ulterior motives here. She’s playing matchmaker. Maybe she thinks Ry can fix me or something. But she’s wrong. There is a lot more than my arm that’s broken. And not even the best physical therapist in the world can help me.

  “There was a picture of us?” Rylee asks.

  “Someone must have snapped it at the restaurant,” I say. “Don’t worry, no one could tell it was you.”

  She looks relieved and I wonder if she’s worried about her job, or worried about someone seeing her with me. Someone named Stryker.

  We pull up to valet parking and exit the car. Onlookers watch us enter the restaurant and I think of how lucky I am to be escorting these two lovely ladies.

  We get seated along the windows in the back overlooking the pier.

  Rylee looks out the window longingly. “I love Pier 60.”

  I momentarily wonder why she loves it. Does she walk the pier with other men? Then I remind myself that I don’t care. That I can’t care.

  “My dad taught me how to fish when I was young,” she says. “We had the best times together. So, now when I want to feel close to him, I go fishing. Pier 60 is really
long – good for fishing.”

  “I’m sorry,” Murphy says. “Did you lose your father?”

  Rylee nods. “About four years ago.”

  “I lost mine when I was twelve. But sometimes, it feels like it was yesterday. Every kid deserves to grow up with a father, you know?”

  Rylee sighs and looks down at the table. She must really miss him.

  The waiter comes over and I order a bottle of wine. I don’t miss Rylee’s smile. She knows I didn’t order the most expensive bottle.

  “What looks good?” I ask them as I peruse the menu. I glance up at Rylee. “And don’t say the sandwiches. You are not allowed to order one tonight.”

  “I was thinking about a burger,” she says.

  “That’s a sandwich,” I admonish.

  “It is not,” she says.

  “What do you think, Murphy,” I ask. “Is a hamburger a sandwich?”

  She looks at the menu. “Well, it’s not listed that way. It’s under handhelds.”

  “Right. You eat it with your hands,” I say. “Like a sandwich.”

  “You also eat chicken wings and corn on the cob with your hands,” Rylee adds. “Do you consider those sandwiches?”

  Murphy laughs. “I think you’d better concede this one, Brady.”

  “One of these days, I’m going to get you to order the prime rib. Or the chateaubriand,” I say to Rylee.

  “That’ll be the day,” she says.

  “When’s your birthday? Surely you’d order it then.”

  “January 21st,” she says.

  I frown thinking it’s well after I go home. “Maybe we can celebrate it late, when I come back for spring training.”

  The waiter comes to take our order before she can answer. But I get the feeling I might not have gotten one anyway. Rylee is so unlike the other girls I date. She never wonders when she’s going to see me next. Never asks questions about the future. Of course, this isn’t a date. She’s only here because of Murphy.

 

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