Page 61 of Fastball Fever
"Well…I've never had much luck resisting you."She finally smiles, almost shyly."I would love to sleep with you tonight—only sleep—in your arms."
I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty
Spies 'R Us
Yesterday, we received the results of the drug testing.It was THC that Jared used to dope us.Every player on our team showed signs of marijuana in their system, just enough of it to prove what Amy and I had suspected.Now, we simply need to catch Jared and his cohort in the act.
None of my teammates know yet what's going on.It's better that way for now.I've got my team's backs, and Amy's on board too.We've been strategizing for hours, huddled in her office with the blinds drawn and voices kept low.
"We need to prove he's tampering with the bats," Amy says.Her usual look of determination is adorable and sexy."The drug tests are only part of it."
"But we need to catch them red-handed," I remind her."Got any ideas how?"
She leans back against her chair, slapping her pen down on the desk.A self-satisfied smile curves her lips."We set a trap.After the game."
"After?"I sit up straighter."Tell me more, Coach."
"If we blow the lid off the drugging scandal now, Jared won't be able to play."
"You're a genius, Amy."I smack a big, wet kiss on her lips."But I need to whup him so badly that he'll be humiliated forever—before everyone hears about his cheating."
The plan is simple but risky.We'll leave a batch of our torpedo bats seemingly unattended in the equipment room tonight after everyone's gone.We trust Phil and Ray, so we brought them in on our scheme.They suggested using several wifi spy cameras that also have audio capability.Jared and his cohort won't even see the cameras.Each one is the size of a pea.
While Amy and I are busy on the field, Phil and Ray will be monitoring the feeds from their phones.If anything goes down, Phil will call Amy on her phone.She's keeping it muted but with vibration on.
"I still think I should hide in the equipment room," I tell her, rolling a baseball between my palms.
Amy shakes her head."Too risky.If Jared spots you, our whole plan falls apart."
She's right, but I hate feeling like I'm not doing enough.This is my team, my career on the line.I've faced fastballs coming at me at ninety-nine miles per hour, but somehow this waiting game feels more dangerous.
"But Amy, what if he doesn't take the bait?"
"He will."She slants forward, her hair falling loose from her ponytail."Jared's too arrogant not to.He thinks he's untouchable."
There's more than baseball at stake between us, and we both know it.We could get into serious trouble if we're wrong about this.
"Ready?"Amy asks, standing up and smoothing her clothes.
"Baby, I was born ready."I wink so she knows I'm joking, though she's smart enough to figure that out on her own.I set the baseball down and follow her out to the field.
The afternoon practice drags.I'm going through the motions, my mind split between the upcoming game and our trap.Every time I see Jared across the field with his team, I want to run over there and slug him in the gut.He catches me staring and smirks, tapping his bat against the ground.The bastard thinks he's won already.
"Focus, Braddock," Amy calls out from the sidelines."Eyes on the ball, not the enemy."
She's right.I shake it off and drill the next few hits, sending balls soaring.My teammates whoop and holler, their energy infectious.They have no idea why I'm suddenly locked in, but they feed off it anyway.For a few glorious minutes, I forget about Jared, the marijuana, all of it.I'm just playing ball, the way I used to before this mess.
After practice ends, Amy and I set up our trap, carefully arranging the torpedo bats in the equipment room so they look casually stored.In reality, they're perfectly positioned for the cameras.Phil shows me the feed on his phone—crystal clear video of the entire room from three different angles.
"We'll catch the son of a bitch," he whispers, giving my shoulder a squeeze."Don't worry."
"Thanks, Phil."His support means more than I can express, and I don't even try to come up with anything better to say.I doubt he expects me to, anyway.
As I head to the locker room to shower, I spot Jared lingering near our dugout, pretending to tie his shoe.My muscles tense, ready for confrontation, but I force myself to keep walking.Any acknowledgment now could tip him off.
In the locker room, I take the longest shower of my life, letting the hot water pound against my shoulders.My mind races through every potential scenario for tonight.What if the cameras fail?What if Jared doesn't take the bait?What if he's already figured out that we're onto him?
