Page 38 of The Brickwall and the Bombshell

“Baseball players and their nicknames, right?” she asks, giving me an easy out. Some reporters might start pushing further at this point, digging into my past or bringing up other nicknames I’ve acquired over the years, like the one she keeps throwing in my face, but she doesn’t. Just congratulates me on a great game and lets me go.

The ice bath is calling my name tonight. I need a good rub down on my thighs and some treatment on my knee. Thankfully, tomorrow’s game is a late one in Seattle, so I’ll have almost twenty-four hours turnaround to recoup as much as possible.

I’m just coming out of the treatment room when I see Greer and her cameraman packing up.

“Greer,” I call out, getting her attention and watching her cheeks tinge a light shade of pink when a few pairs of eyes turn her way.

Put the woman in front of a camera and thousands of viewers and she’s a pillar of strength and confidence. Make her the center of attention in a room full of baseball players and she turns into a blushing beauty.

And it is beautiful.

I’d like to see how far that blush goes.

“Don’t leave without me,” I instruct. There’s no way in hell we’re having a repeat of last night. She’ll be leaving when I leave and I’ll walk her to her car and then follow her to my house.

She nods, brushing a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and then turning back to her cameraman, probably making an excuse for why I asked her to wait on me.

I figure it’s better for everyone to know now that she’s mine and I’m glad to see Jason Freeman still lingering around and noticing. This will make my future conversation with him a little easier. When he catches me looking at him, he gives me a smirk, like I’ve just initiated the beginning of a game, but I have news for him. He won’t win this one.

“Was that necessary?” Greer asks between clenched teeth when I approach her.

“Yeah,” I confirm, ready for this fight, craving it. “I didn’t want you to walk out by yourself.”

She continues organizing her bag, getting her laptop in there just so. “Brian was going to walk me out, but now I feel like the entire clubhouse is watching us.”

“They were going to find out we’re together one way or another. Seems like getting that part out of the way tonight was a good idea. Besides that, Freeman was waiting in the wings to stake his claim on you and there was no fucking way that was happening.”

She whips around, her long hair almost slapping me in my face and giving me a healthy dose of that sweet scent I’m starting to crave.

“Listen,” she says, her eyes darting around to make sure no one can overhear our conversation. “Just because I agreed to this fake relationship doesn’t mean you have the right to dictate my life, got it?”

I nod as my eyes lock with hers, struggling to fight back a smile. “I got it, Reporter. But I also need you to understand that I protect what’s mine and whether you like it or not, where everyone else in this world is concerned, you’re mine, at least for now. Got it?”

Her nostrils flare and she breathes deeply, her chest rising and falling.

To anyone watching, we probably look like we’re about to start going at it right here in front of everyone. Buried under the fight and stubbornness is a shitload of sexual tension. Greer will probably never admit it, but she wants me. It’s written all over her face and in the heat of her eyes.

She wants to tell me off right now, tell me to go straight to hell and fuck off, but she knows I have her between a rock and a hard place.

My cock strains against the zipper of my jeans and I’m thankful I dressed before coming out here. If I was still wearing sweats, I wouldn’t be able to hide the bulge.

“You ready?” I ask, taking her bag from the table and motioning toward the door.

She stands her ground for a moment longer and then she inhales deeply, then exhales, smoothing her hands down her slacks. The slacks that hug her tight ass and make her legs look even longer than they are. I’ve seen her in skirts and dresses, and those always get my attention, but there’s something about her in this pant suit that turns me the fuck on.

I’m going to have to get that under control before we get home.

“Let's go,” Greer says, typing something out on her phone and walking ahead of me.

We don’t say much as we walk down the corridor and out to the gate that leads to where she parked her car, but I notice Greer watching. Her eyes dart to every dark corner and once, she glances over her shoulder, only to find me right behind her.

As much as she wants to fight me right now, I feel the way her body relaxes when I place my hand at the small of her back.

You’re good.

I’ve got you.

When we reach her car, she stops and her body tenses.

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