Page 35 of Pitcher Perfect
Skylar cleared the confusing twinge from her throat. “I was just pondering.”
He leaned back against the dresser on the opposite side of the room, crossing his arms, his biceps and triceps competing for attention. “Care to share?”
“Uh...”Stop looking at the V.“I was thinking about the competition tomorrow. I’ve done this event before and on the surface, it might sound kind of silly. But it’s not. It’s actually pretty hard. We need to have a game plan.”
“I’m going to be blindfolded. You’ll lead me through the headphones.”
“I—” She wrinkled her nose. “Why are you automatically the blindfolded one?”
“A couple of reasons.” He uncrossed his arms in order to count on his fingers. “One, there’s no way I’ll be able to sit still duringanycompetition. Just thinking about it makes me squirm.” He shuddered. “And two, you could step in a gopher hole and twist your ankle or some shit and I wouldn’t be able to handle it, especially considering I’d be the one giving you directions.”
Okay,thatshe hadn’t seen coming. As soon as his words sank in, her right eye started to twitch. “You’re worried I’m going to get hurt?”
He studied her in silence. “Why do I feel like I just stepped in it?”
“Because you did.” Slowly, Skylar skirted around the edge of the bed in his direction. “Remember when you asked me on a date during the baseball game? Same thing, Redbeard.” Stopping in front of him, she poked him between those hard pecs. “If we want a chance to win, you have to quit treating me like less of a competitor because I’m a girl.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but...” His attention dragged along the curve of her right hip and back up her center to the notch of her throat. “I can’t pretend you’re not softer, shorter, and a hell of a lot prettier than me.”
A warm, unexpected wind wafted through her chest, but she couldn’t help but be skeptical. After all,softandprettywere adjectives that hadn’t been used to describe her many times in her life. She wasn’t sure she totally liked them, either, despite the giddy rush currently sneaking through her bloodstream. “Is this another round of flirting practice?” she asked, suspiciously.
“Nope. Those are just facts.”
“W-well,” she said, floundering momentarily. “Keep your flirtations to yourself, unless we are actively engaged in practice, as set forth in the schedule.”
“My bad, Rocket.” A corner of his lips twitched. “Bottom line is, I would like to be blindfolded. I’m indestructible. I can tape up and play on anything short of a broken limb.”
“So can I. I have.”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but...”
A light bulb went off in Skylar’s head. “The problem is you don’t trust me. As a teammate. Not yet.” Her attention hit a snagwhen Robbie stroked five fingers through his beard, as if settling in to listen to her explanation. What was the texture of that beard? What would it feel like against her cheeks and chin if—no,whenthey kissed? They were going to kiss, eventually. She’d blocked out a whole hour of time on Tuesday for exactly that. The fact that her blood pumped faster at the thought was alarming, to say the least. “Um. I think the best thing we can do to prepare for tomorrow is establish trust. As teammates, I mean.”
“As opposed to...”
“Trusting you as a man. Or a boyfriend. It would be a cold day in hell.”
He shoved off the dresser, his face a mask of disbelief. “Excuse me? Are you implying that I wouldn’t be a trustworthy boyfriend?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m stating facts, just like you.”
“Jesus, Skylar.Myfacts were flattering.” He paced right, then left, spearing her with a hard look all the while. “Granted, I haven’t been in a serious relationship, but if I was, if I liked someone enough to make her my girlfriend, I’d make sure I was all in. I wouldn’t do it halfway. When I commit to something, I do it a thousand percent.”
“All right.” Guilt somersaulted into her belly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Shouldn’t havesaidit? Or shouldn’t have assumed I’d be a ratbag boyfriend?”
A small hesitation, followed by a wince. “Said it,” she whispered.
“Wow.” He shook his head slowly. “A man recounts a hookup to his teammatesonetimeand he’s branded for life.”
“One time oreverytime?”
“Semantics.”
“Semantics,” she echoed, mimicking his baritone. “Let’s tablethe discussion on the ethics of locker room talk for now. My point is we need to build some teammate-style trust. Otherwise, how are you going to have any confidence in my instructions tomorrow?”
A red eyebrow zipped upward. “You’re letting me do the blindfolded part?”
