“Staying.” Isaiah pins him with a look, a slight slur to his speech already. “Fuck that guy. He was a prick when we were kids playing travel ball and he’s an even bigger prick now.”
“Well, if we’re staying, I’m dancing.” Cody holds his hand out for mine.
The boys turn to look at their pitcher, waiting for him to step in, but all he does is trade his finished beer for a fresh one.
As one song ends and the next begins, one of the outfielders spins me into the next teammate’s pair of awaiting arms.
Only this time the person who grabs me isn’t one of the guys from the team. It’s Dean Cartwright—the player from Atlanta.
“What’s your name?” he asks, one hand on my lower back and his mouth far too close to my ear.
I swallow, looking around the dance floor for a familiar face, but I’ve had a fair amount to drink and he’s spinning me a little too fast to catch a good look at anyone. “Miller.”
A slow smile spreads across his lips. “Aren’t you going to ask me mine?”
“I already know yours.”
“Figures.”
His lips spread in a slow smirk that I’d assume most women would classify as sexy. But the overly cocky thing doesn’t do it for me anymore. Now I’ve got a smoking hot but unsure man on my mind, and I can’t think of anything more attractive than the idea of him finding his well-deserved confidence. Especially with me.
I go to pull out of his hold, but his grip only tightens.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I just want a dance. I’ve been watching you all night and wondering what the hell you’re doing here with the Windy City Warriors.”
I stare him straight in the eye. “My dad is the field manager.”
His brows lift. “Monty’s daughter? I had a deal fall through because your dad wouldn’t sign me.”
“Makes sense. He’s always had good taste.”
His laugh is genuine. “Snarky little thing, huh?”
“Can I go now?” I ask, trying once again to unsuccessfully pull myself from his grip without causing a scene.
“One dance, Miller Montgomery.”
It takes me a moment, but I resign. “Fine. But only if you tell me why the entire team hates you so much.”
His smile is devious as we begin to move once again. “I’ve known the Rhodeses since we were kids playing travel ball. May or may not have slept with one or two of Isaiah’s girlfriends in high school.”
“Isaiah doesn’t have girlfriends.”
“He used to. And it was a real easy way to knock him off his game before we played.”
I can’t hold in my disbelieving laugh. “So you’re just a shitty person, huh?”
“I’m a competitor. If something as trivial as that could make my opponent have a bad game, that’s on them.”
“You’re kind of the worst, you know that? I hope the pitch Kai hit you with was a fastball straight to the nuts.”
A smile slides across his lips. “Thanks, doll.”
My head is on a swivel, looking for the team, and I finally find them all gathered at a table, eyes locked on us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”
“You know my schedule already? Sweet of you. My stepsister is staying close by. Thought I might get her out of the hotel tonight. You might know her actually—” Dean’s attention drifts behind my shoulder. “Oh wow.” His hand falls further south, fingertips draped over the top of my ass. “I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace before.”
“I’m playing nice, but don’t you dare let that hand slip any further.”
He simply smiles. “I should’ve said I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace until tonight.”
Huh?
I can feel Kai’s presence long before I see him. When he makes it to us, he pushes Dean’s chest into the crowd, breaking the hold he has on me.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Chapter 15
Kai
I’ll admit, I’ve been wallowing like a little bitch all night. I know that Isaiah is only messing with me, trying to force me into acting like a deranged caveman by throwing Miller over my shoulder or some shit. But all it’s done is reinforce what I already know—I don’t have the luxury to be the kind of guy she would want.
There’s been an infectious smile plastered on those red-painted lips all night. She’s hardly left the dance floor. She’s fun and magnetic and I want her to pull me into her orbit, but I’ll wake up tomorrow and remember who I am. A single dad with no time on his hands to chase around a twenty-five-year-old.