The Trade Page 4

“It’s true. Don’t the fans have a tally of how many bench-clearing fights the team gets into every year?”

“Yup.” I stuff my hands in my pockets. “One of the first things they said to me when I stepped into the locker room was that I better be able to throw down.” I shake my head. “That’s not the kind of player I am. Never will be.”

Milly steps in and says, “Even though you’re in your thirties, Mom and Dad would still kill you if you ever got into a fight on the field.”

I chuckle softly. “Yeah, Dad would be at my car in the players’ parking lot, arms crossed over his chest, waiting to rip me a new one.” I drag my hand down my face. “I don’t know. I’m hoping next year will be better. I dropped in on the team out of nowhere. At least next season we’ll spend some time together during spring training. I’m hoping we’ll be able to bond during that time.”

“At least you have Jason who was just traded as well,” Carson says. “You’ll be able to rely on him, since he’s pretty much infatuated with you.”

I see him off to the side, chatting with Knox Gentry and Knox’s girlfriend. I don’t know much about Jason Orson, but what I do know, I like. He’s the reason we’re at this event right now, a fundraiser for his foundation, The Lineup, which raises money to support kids with disabilities to participate in baseball. His brother, Joseph, has cerebral palsy and has been a part of Jason’s career from the very beginning. Before the fundraiser baseball game, they showed a video of Jason and Joseph together. In high school, Joseph filled in as a pinch runner, out on the field with his walker. Jason would hit him in, giving Joseph that chance to cross home plate.

The whole montage brought a tear to my eye and the mission of Jason’s foundation rang true to my heart. That’s what the sport should be about. Giving back. I slipped him a personal check after the game, because I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my money than put more smiles on the faces of kids just like his brother.

“Yeah, there’s that at least,” I say, feeling like all the life has just been sucked out of me. I hate talking about my fucking team, more than anything.

Sensing my irritation, Milly says, “You know, Emory’s friend Lindsay is single . . .”

“Jesus Christ, Milly.” I roll my eyes.

“What?” She chuckles. “She is and she’s really nice. She has a little boy who’s incredibly sweet. Loves baseball.”

“I’m sure they’re great people, but you know I’m not ready to be a father figure with my schedule. And I also don’t—”

A bout of laughter echoes through the event space, drawing our attention. I turn to see where’s it’s coming from. I look past shuffling waiters, a few Bobbies and Rebels with their accompanying guests, and spot a girl with shoulder-length, caramel-colored hair standing next to Joseph, hand in his, and a beautiful smile gracing her face.

Wow.

Stunning.

Her smile doesn’t just stretch across her face, but curves up to her eyes, lighting them up so beautifully that it’s impossible to look away. And her infectious laugh, sweet but not fake, the perfect tone and length.

Just from her smile and the sound of her laugh, my body reacts to her. Pulse speeding up, a thrill of excitement shoots down my spine, and in that moment, I realize I want to know who this girl is.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” Carson says, pulling me back to the conversation with him and Milly. “Do you want anything?”

I shake my head and try to be coy. “No, I think I’m going to mingle.”

“Okay.” Carson takes Milly’s hand in his. “Come on, wife, I want to get you liquored up so you’re loose with your panties tonight.”

“Dude,” I mutter, backing away quickly before things get out of control.

I hear him laugh as my mortified sister follows closely behind. I love Carson like one of my brothers, and even though he says massively inappropriate things about my sister to me on the regular, it still makes me happy. I know he’s comfortable around me. Carson hasn’t had the best family life, so knowing we can be there for him, be the family he needs, it means a lot to us.

Turning toward the group of people congregated around Joseph, I take a deep breath and start heading in their direction, practicing in my head what I should say, trying not to sound awkward and intruding.

I’m a few feet away when Jason comes up to my side and grips my shoulder.

“Cory Fucking Potter, I have a boner right now just thinking about how you’re here.”

Jason is . . . an interesting guy. A total talent on the field, but an odd guy in real life. A mother hen, obnoxious, and loves gaining a reaction from people. I’ve spent a few hours with him, and I already know he’s different from anyone I know.

“If you’re asking me to take care of that boner for you, I’m afraid that goes past my realm of friendship. Maybe Knox is interested.”

Jason laughs and the sound feels familiar, as if I just heard it.

“Knox wants nothing to do with my boner. Already asked.”

“Jason,” a feminine voice chastises. I turn just in time to see the girl with the smile walk up to us. “Can you please not talk about boners at the event?”

He shrugs and says, “I blame the booze.”

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