Page 9 of The Strike Zone

Whatever Tanner was about to say died on his lips and his eyes widened at something over my shoulder. There was absolutely no way he could have been any more obvious when I turned around to see what he was looking at and found Scout walking toward us, a laptop clasped to her chest as she typed away on her phone.

Fuck. She looked so pretty.

I hadn’t seen her properly since last season. I wasn’t counting the ice-skating fiasco from Christmas when she’d been with Rangers Douche, and I also wasn’t counting the week she flew down to Spring Training, when I mostly ran in the opposite direction whenever she was near, just in case she wasstillwith Rangers Douche.

But I wasn’t running now.

Even from thirty yards out, the swell of her tits bouncing in the white tank top she was wearing woke my dick up. The Lions shirt thrown over the top did nothing to help, either, because all I could think about was her wearingmyLions shirt.

She’d cut her hair since last month. Instead of the long blonde waves I always dreamed about wrapping around my fist, blunt ends stopped just above her collarbone and brushed along the sliver of golden skin peeking out between the material. No matter, I’d make it work. And I don’t know how, but it made her cheeks seem even rounder and her lips more kissable than ever.

And they’d always looked really fucking kissable.

“Hey, Scout,” crowed Tanner in a way that made my jaw clench, especially when his hand shot in the air with an overexaggerated, mom-style wave. I’d have kicked him if it wouldn’t have been obvious.

Her head shot up, her face immediately flushing pink as her gaze darted between us. “Oh hey, guys.”

Her eyes stilled on me. I’d never seen a shade of blue like it, as though an artist had mixed the color of my favorite pair of Levi’s with the glow in the sky right before nighttime arrived, especially when they twinkled.

“Hey, Parker.”

I held my breath as she passed us, just in case she decided to stop and talk, but instead she walked on by without another glance, without me waiting to say hey back to her.

Shit.

Once more, Scout Davison made me forget myself.

I’d never felt more like I was back in high school than when Scout was around. Except in high school, I never became tongue-tied. I’d owned the hallways.

My shoulders were on the verge of slumping when Tanner nudged me.

“She’s into you,” he said as we watched her walk off toward the elevator banks.

“You think?”

“No doubt. Of course she is. You know my motto—you’re Parker Fucking King. Get it over with before the team meeting. Ask her out.”

I rubbed my hands together. Okay. Yeah. I was Parker Fucking King. I could do this.

I’d already waited too long to talk to her, and over my dead body was Jupiter Reeves going to be proved right. I wouldnotbe friend-zoned.

If I ran, I could hit the elevator button for her before she reached it.

“We’re talking about Millie when we get home,” I called behind me before I took off down the hallway.

Here goes nothing.

“Scout,” I called as loudly as I could, but not so loud that it made every single other person in the corridor turn around. I should have picked a better time. “Scout, wait up.”

She stopped and turned, blonde hair flicking in her face.

Pushing it out of her eyes, she glanced up from her phone, wearing a confused expression. “Hey, Parker, what’s up?”

I slowed. What is up? I hadn’t thought this far ahead. Not enough to come up with a valid answer to one simple question without me looking like a total dick, at least.

Instead, I came to a stop in front of her, curling my hand around the peak of my cap before shoving both hands deep into my pockets.

“Um, hey.”

---