Page 41 of Pitcher Perfect
Women must love it.
Skylar missed the target completely on her next pitch, the ball disappearing into the trees. “Damn.”
“Brought my glove, if you’d rather pitch to a human” came the voice behind her.
Madden.
She hadn’t heard him approaching from the house next door, which had been passed down to him following the death of his aunt.
Skylar’s stomach tied itself into seventeen complicated knots. A familiar feeling, considering this was a familiar scene plucked straight out of her high school years. One she looked forward to reliving on an annual basis during the Page Stakes. Pitching to Madden’s steady glove, experiencing that ripple of approval across his furrowed brow whenever she landed a strike. His quiet strength. The sense of camaraderie.
Just the two of them, no Elton to tease and remind her she was the annoying younger sister. Perfect.
Oddly, her fingers tingled where she held the next ball, the memory of Robbie’s soft bristles making itself known at the least opportune moment.
Not now.
Forcing herself to play it cool, she tossed a smile over her shoulder. “Sure, thanks.”
Madden nodded in that slow, easy manner of his, striding past her to the target, moving it aside and taking its place in front of the towering oak she’d christened the Pitching Tree long ago.
Skylar shook the nerves out of her arm and threw a decent pitch, the imaginary umpire in her head calling itlow and inside.
Retrieving another ball from the bucket, she bobbled it in her hand a moment, trying to work up the courage to start a conversation. Considering how long they’d known each other, exchanging words shouldn’t be so hard, right? There was normally a buffer of some kind. Or they just played in silence in the name of concentration. But this was her week to get his attention, to break free of the patterns that made her nothing more than Elton’s little sister in Madden’s eyes.Seize your chance.
“Is it nice being back in your aunt’s house for the week?” Skylar asked.
Nice job bringing up his deceased aunt. Ask about his absent parents next.
Madden stood and returned the ball, her glove receiving it with aslonk. “It is nice, yeah.” She wasn’t sure he’d elaborate, but after a moment he kept going. “I forget some of the smaller things about her. Like the dishes she kept everywhere for candy. Every once in a while, I find a hair curler stuck in a couch cushion or behind a stack of books.” He hunkered back down, punching the center of his glove. “Good reminders.”
“Those are good,” she murmured, swallowing the twinge in her throat.
Another pitch. A perfect throw back in Skylar’s direction.
Odd how conversation didn’t seem to come easily between them. Obviously, they just needed more time alone. To get comfortable with each other.
Obviously.
“Listen, Skylar,” Madden said, kind of abruptly. “About this hockey fella.”
Skylar froze in the process of dropping into her stance. Madden was asking about Robbie. They’dalreadygotten his attention? Her suspicion that he’d been bothered by Robbie’s interest in her at the game last week had been correct.
Holy shit, it was happening.
She flipped her braid over her shoulder, nonchalant as possible. “What about him?”
“Do you actually like this guy, or what?” He rolled a shoulder, appearing to choose his words carefully. “Something seems off.”
Uh-oh. “Off... how?”
He studied her through narrowed eyes. “Can’t put my finger on it, really.” A thoughtful pause. “You don’t date often, nowsuddenly you’re moving very quickly, bringing him here to meet your parents and all.”
Skylar kept her expression neutral. “Well...” Okay, was Madden jealous or merely skeptical of her relationship with Robbie? He was impossible to read. Why couldn’t he just demand she break things off with Robbie and give him a chance, instead? “I probably wouldn’t have invited him to meet my parents so soon, but Eve couldn’t make it.”
For some reason, Madden’s eyes darkened dramatically at the mention of her best friend. “Right.” He looked down, scuffing the dirt with his boot. “Eve.”
“But I do really like him,” Skylar finished quickly.Tooquickly?
