Home Run Fiancé (Faking It Book 2), page 7
8
Rhys
“All right, that’s it, guys. Get out of here.” One of the few ladies already in the box when I arrived, cuts in front of me and starts shooing the paparazzi out of the box seats section. “You know you can’t be in here. Don’t make me call security.”
I’m more grateful for her than I can possibly express, though I don’t get a chance to tell her. Jake appears out of nowhere and pulls me into his arms while glaring at the retreating cameramen. They stumble over each other in their haste to leave when they see him there.
“Hey. You okay?” he whispers in my hair.
I’m shaking a bit. I didn’t realize I’d be accosted at the stadium. Hadn’t prepared mentally to deal with reporters and paparazzi. When Jake invited me, he told me he’d put me in the VIP box seats where no one is allowed to harass you.
I nod my head against his chest, but then push away when I take in his clean white uniform. The one I’m currently getting my makeup on. Wow. I’m also not prepared for how good he looks in his baseball uniform.
“I’m good. Just a little shocked, but I’m fine.” I smile convincingly.
He scans me from head to toe, then zeros in on my eyes. He must find what he’s looking for when he looks over my head and nods quickly to the lady who helped me. Then he’s kissing me, those big hands holding my head exactly where he wants me. The next second, he’s gone, running back down to the field and climbing over the wall.
“Oohhhie, girl. That was hot.” The lady who helped me steps up next to me and watches Jake’s retreat. “I’m Shelly, by the way.”
Her introduction breaks me out of whatever trance I find myself in. We shake hands and sit together. She introduces me to everyone as the box fills up, and then takes me under her wing to explain exactly how baseball works. I see some of the other ladies giving me a scrutinizing eye, but I ignore it all, focusing instead on learning the game and watching Jake.
He’s good.
Like, so good. He moves with lightning speed to catch every line drive, he throws the ball with a scorching power, and he swings the bat like he’ll send the ball into outer space. No one else on the field compares. I’ve never been one to enjoy sports, but watching Jake play is like watching a master at his form of art, lost in the moment, brilliantly talented. He’s simply beautiful.
Shelly buys us Danger dogs and popcorn. She says it’s tradition and we’d be horrible fans if we didn’t partake of the baseball food. Considering I’ve never had a tastier hot dog, I must agree with her. The seventh-inning stretch comes way too soon and I find myself wishing for the game to go longer.
The Dangers end up winning the game and I wait with Shelly in the box seats. Once the stadium has cleared out, we walk to the players area and wait for our men to leave the press conference. Her husband is one of the pitchers for the team and she’s been going to his games for over a decade. She’s been so sweet I hate to lie to her, but I have to keep up the charade about Jake and me.
When Jake emerges, freshly showered and in dress slacks and a collared shirt, I don’t have to pretend. He takes my breath away and brings color to my cheeks. I have a new level of respect for him that I didn’t before.
“Have fun tonight…” Shelly whispers in my ear and winks at me.
I blush harder and hope Jake won’t notice.
He comes right up to me and pulls me into a kiss. His beard tickles my skin and I itch to run my hands along the scruff. In the back of my mind, I know there’s no camera out, no public persona to keep up, and yet here we are: kissing. His strong hands are around my waist and his cologne hits my nose, intoxicating me in a split second.
“Why are you blushing, sweetheart?” he whispers as he pulls back just enough to see into my eyes.
Which of course, just makes me blush harder. I drop my gaze to his chest, trying not to enjoy the feel of his body pressed to mine. Talk about mission impossible.
He finally lets go, realizing I won’t be giving him an answer. Instead, he laces our fingers together and tugs me down the hall.
“Maybe you’ll tell me at dinner. Got reservations at Craig’s.”
I let him lead me out of the stadium. As we hit the parking lot, I turn around and gaze up at the huge structure with fondness. I had one of the best afternoons of my life and I can’t wait to go back.
“So. What did you think?” Jake stares at me over the candlelit table, his face animated as he talks about the game.
I open my mouth to gush about the experience and then Jake’s voice replays in my head. The words he said at Asher’s house about not getting emotionally involved with him. Almost laughable, they were so ridiculous. My greatest fear going into this fake relationship was being known publicly. Now my biggest fear is exactly what he warned me against: falling for him.
“It was a little boring, to be honest.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. His face falls, the light leaving his eyes, and I want to snatch them back. Guilt pulls at my stomach and I wonder if that’s who I’ve become. A chronic liar. I’ve been lying to Asher and now I’m lying to Jake.
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I, uh, just thought being seen at my game would be a natural progression of our, um, relationship.” Jake looks down at the menu and I feel the loss of his gaze like a physical thing. I don’t know when he became more than a paycheck to me, but I hate that I’ve just hurt him. He doesn’t deserve that. I just don’t know how else to protect myself.
The server comes to take our order and the silence hovering over the table when he leaves is palpable. I’m scrambling to figure out how to fix this, conflicted as to whether I even should fix it. Maybe I should be pushing him away more. The fact that his reaction is getting to me means I’ve become attached. And that can’t happen.
This isn’t real. This won’t last longer than another month at most.
“So….” I look around and paste a smile on my face. “I had a Danger dog today. That was interesting.”
He looks up at me, anger simmering in every line on his face. I shrink back in my chair and the smile slides off my face.
“Listen. Why don’t we just get our food to go and get out of here, huh? I’m pretty tired and I’d like to get home. We’ll pose for some pics outside for the press and we’ll call it done.” His deep voice cuts like glass.
His rejection hurts, the words severing all the goodwill and friendship we’ve built over the last two dates. But then again, I suppose I hurt him first. It’s only fair we both bleed.
I nod once and put my napkin on the table. “Would you excuse me?” I push back from the table and walk as fast as I can to the restroom where I sink onto a chair only the fanciest of restaurants have in their bathrooms and close my eyes. A wave of sadness threatens to come out in the form of tears, but I breathe in and out until I’ve pushed it back. I have another video to edit anyway. I could use an early night at home to get things done. I can’t be neglecting my own business while helping Jake with his.
When I have everything under control and the serene expression I try out in the mirror looks semi-believable, I go back out. Jake’s standing by the table, putting his wallet in his pocket. He sees me and grabs the takeout bag. Without a word, we walk to the front of the restaurant to go home. The absence of his hand holding mine is like an ache. He pushes the door open and only then grabs my hand.
The first flash goes off as I look over at him. He’s smiling at me, pretending to be in love with me, but I know him well enough now to know his expression isn’t sincere. His eyes are flat and the smile is pinched behind that thick beard of his. A heavy weight sits in my chest as I come to terms with him only pretending to like me for the cameras. But I’m nothing if not determined. I lean closer and look up at him adoringly, doing my very best to act like the besotted girlfriend he’s paying me to be. The saddest part of the evening is I’d look at him that way for free if only our feelings could be real.
I like Jake Kersh. The man and the baseball player.
He was right to warn me not to fall for him. I’ve never been in love, and while I’m not sure I’m there now, I’m smart enough to know there’s plenty I don’t know. And these feelings I have for Jake are confusing.
He walks me over to his car, opening my door and helping me get in. His body heat makes me squirm in my seat as he leans over me to buckle my seat belt, his hands making quick work of the job, but not before he’s touched me, setting off fireworks in my body. He pauses right before he withdraws, his face directly in front of me. If I just lean forward an inch, my lips would be on him.
We stare at each other and I can’t say what I see in his eyes. He’s so good at guarding what he’s thinking. I’m afraid I’m a novice when it comes to that. I have no doubt everything I feel for him is reflecting in my eyes, my secrets out there for him to see.
His hand comes up and with one careful finger, he brushes a hair out of my eyes, his rough skin trailing down my temple and behind my ear. My heart stutters, but before I can bridge the gap, he’s gone, shutting my door and rounding the hood to the driver’s side.
I take a shaky breath and force a smile to my face. Cameras flash, capturing every single moment and I have to keep up the facade of a happy, lovestruck girlfriend. I’ll fight to keep myself from falling for Jake, but I already like him enough to make sure I give him what he needs: a steady reputation and his transfer to Texas. I can at least give him that. If my heart is in tatters by the end, I’ll figure it out then. When he’s gone and can’t see what an idiot I am.
9
Jake
I won’t lie. Her words killed me.
Every time I saw Rhys, we had a better time than the last. I was coming to enjoy every loud word that came from her mouth. I certainly enjoyed seeing her in her crazy, sexy outfits, the way she carried herself like she didn’t simply walk, she glided. I didn’t understand her at all, but I wanted to. I wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her eyes dim sometimes when we were together, what dreams she had for the future. It felt like she let me in one minute and then shut me down the next.
“It was a little boring, to be honest.”
Like a dagger to the heart. She thought the baseball game—the one I bled, sweat, and lived for—was boring.
For a second there, I thought we could be friends. Maybe even more than friends, if I’m being completely honest and quite a bit ridiculous. But that? That was a deal breaker.
I should be happy to have something concrete to kill the fondness I was beginning to feel for her. Instead, I was snapping at everyone who dared talk to me. I went straight back to the hotel after the last two away games and went to bed, tossing and turning, unable to get the rest I needed to tackle the next day. I should be focused on trade talks with the Sliders, but I spent more time analyzing every single conversation with Rhys, trying to figure her out.
At the home game tonight, I thought I’d seen her in the crowd. Instead, it was some other brunette with a flower wreath thing in her hair. I had no idea that was a thing outside of the ’70s but there she was, looking exactly like the girl who wouldn’t leave my thoughts.
Which is why I’m sitting here staring at my phone, trying to talk myself out of contacting her. But the pull is too strong. I need to talk to her. And really, shouldn’t I just reach out and make sure she’s okay? That’s what friends should do for each other.
Jake: Saw some other girl wearing flowers in her hair today. Did you start a trend?
The phone goes dark as I sit there waiting for a reply. I don’t know why I expected an immediate text back, but that’s irrational thought for you. Disgusted with myself, I throw the phone down on the couch and walk into the kitchen to make a late night snack. All I have is turkey lunch meat and one slice of bread. It’ll have to do.
I hear a faint ping and just about beat my 60-yard-dash record to get to it. I snatch my phone off the couch cushion and see a message waiting from Rhys.
Rhys: Your girlfriend IS quite stylish…
I don’t even think, just peck out a reply, my heart beating wildly.
Jake: And beautiful. I see why they’d want to copy you.
As soon as I hit “send” on my reply I cringe. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s the truth, but I doubt she wants to hear that from me. I’m just some old baseball player she agreed to help out of a sticky situation. She’s probably calling Asher right now to complain about my inappropriateness.
My phone rings and I nearly drop it. Speaking of the devil.
“No…” I moan.
I sink down onto the couch and stare at my phone like it’s a snake about to bite me. Asher’s going to kill me. I’m sure of it.
I jab the answer button and put it to my ear.
“Hey, Asher.” Better to bite the bullet and get this conversation over with. I’ll apologize until I’m blue in the face.
“Yo, Jake. Just got off another call with Bobby. He’s really impressed with what he’s seen so far this preseason, but he still mentioned your ‘pension for being in the press.’ His exact words, not mine.”
I let out a silent exhale and lean back against the couch cushion. This isn’t about Rhys. Asher’s call is about what I’m supposed to be focusing on, not playing with fire with literally the only girl who’s off-limits.
“I suggest you propose to Rhys as soon as possible. If we can have that happen, I think it’ll ease his mind. We need him to sign you in the next few weeks or it might not happen this year.”
I sit up straight. “No way, man. It’s gotta be this year. I can’t leave Damon by himself taking care of Mama.”
“Then I suggest you hang up and call Rhys. Make it happen.”
Asher clicks off and I bounce my knee up and down thinking about what to do. I know I should plan to propose tomorrow, but there’s something so weird about faking an engagement. I mean, fake dating is weird too, but I can easily convince myself we’re just getting to know each other and simply posing for a few pictures. Getting engaged is something else entirely.
Jake: Hate to move up the timeline but are you available to be proposed to tomorrow night?
The little dots hang there. I know she’s read my text, but a reply doesn’t come until several minutes later.
Rhys: Sure. Tell me when and where.
Jake: I have an afternoon game tomorrow. How about I pick you up afterward around six? I’ll call a few places and see where I can get reservations.
Rhys: Okay.
Not exactly a ringing endorsement or a jump-for-joy response, but what can I expect when it’s all planned out and totally fake? Talking with Rhys has blown away some of the black cloud that was hanging over my head since our last date, but now I have a lead weight in my stomach. Something’s off. And I think it might be this ridiculous plan to propose. Or maybe the entire fake-relationship idea.
This is what I wanted though, right?
It’s all going according to plan.
I’m sweating like a sinner in church.
The music’s so loud I have to almost shout for Rhys to hear me.
There’s a party in the back room that’s spilled out into the main restaurant. My guess is there’s an open bar based on the behavior and noise level of the party.
It’s more of a club scene than a restaurant. Unfortunately, it was the only reservation I could get on short notice.
It’s all horribly wrong.
What idiot would propose to his girlfriend under these circumstances? It should be a private affair, with special meaning for the couple. Not a last-minute idea in front of strangers who don’t even know us.
And yet here we are.
Rhys looks just as uncomfortable as me, though she hides it better behind a serene smile. She’s dressed in a simple black cocktail dress, her hair pinned back on one side with the rest cascading over her shoulder. She doesn’t fit in here. She’s too young, too innocent to be surrounded by the sleaze of Los Angeles.
While we wait for our food to arrive, I indulge in thinking about how I’d propose to her if this were all real. We’d be outside, somewhere where the sun would shine on her, backlighting her face and hair. She’d have flowers somewhere on her, because it’s Rhys. I’d have asked Asher’s permission beforehand. I’d tell her how amazing she is and how much I look forward to a future with her. She’d give me all her real smiles and nothing about our reaction to each other would be fake or rehearsed or hidden away.
“Jake?”
Rhys’ voice startles me and pulls me from my daydream. She’s looking at me, eyebrows drawn together.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” I reach across the table and cover her hand, wishing I could tug her up out of her chair and haul her out of here.
She smiles shyly. “I was asking if you were okay. You seem pretty distant.”
I feel like there’s pressure building up in my chest. I’m on the fast track to a huge crash and even though I know it’s coming, I don’t slow down. I just press on the gas.
“Can I just propose now and get it over with?”
Her smile falters and then it’s back, glazed over with a sheet of ice this time. She shrugs.
“Yeah, sure.”
I grab the velvet box out of my suit jacket pocket and stand up. Her eyes track my movements, her breath picking up even as she tries to appear nonchalant. I know what she feels. My hands are shaking and I just might puke. This isn’t how I ever envisioned this moment.
I get down on one knee and open the box. Rhys’ gaze drops to the ring and then her eyes widen comically. There’s only one thing that isn’t messed up with this proposal: the ring. I bought a large three-carat diamond and set it in an antique gold ring from the 1800s. I barely knew Rhys when I picked out the ring, but when I saw it, I couldn’t see anything else ever being on her finger. I knew then it was only temporary, but I couldn’t stop myself from buying it.
A real smile tugs at my mouth. The annoying sounds of the restaurant fade away and all I see is Rhys. The most beautiful woman is sitting before me with tears in her eyes, expecting a fake proposal.
