Page 48 of The Catch

"I heard you have avoided doing something like this for a while."

"I never had a good reason before." I shrug.

"But this is a good reason?"

I smile, say nothing, and lift a shoulder in a dismissive move.

She leans close and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "How will I ever pay you back?"

"Okay, let's keep rolling!" Mark calls.

I stand and offer her my hand. She stands close to me.

I cock my head. "You don't have to pay me back."

"I agreed to an invoice afterwards."

"Right." I laugh, take her hand, and lead her back to the kitchen island. "For now, I'll settle for you wearing my jersey at a game."

We finish cooking and sit down at a big table on a set right next to the kitchen. We pretend to eat, then the whole production team shares our food with us and celebrates our work. They praise her cooking skills and the ease with which she carried the show. I smile away her attempt at saying I had something to do with that.

It feels like we're theitcouple that hosted a holiday meal. Right before she attends my Christmas game as my guest, wearing a jersey with my name on it.

My poor heart— it had ropes around it before. The snap I felt earlier was one of them tearing apart. I need to be careful, or every bit of cord will give way until I forget why I put them there in the first place.

Chapter 17

Ames

The Strike's stadium is huge. Hordes of people move towards the different doors, in a sea of blue for the Strike and red for the opposing team. Instead of following them, I show my phone to a guard and I'm allowed past a corded-off section. As if she knew I'd be intimidated, Evie offered to meet me at the staff's entrance. She prepared everything, and now I'm on my way to a special entry.

She sees me as soon as I go into the building, and flashes her badge to the guards to let me in.

"Benefits of the job." She gives me a quick hug. "Come. I have a surprise waiting for you."

Evie guides me through the massive building like she owns the place. We pass people with badges and reporters waiting for their chance, until we reach an elevator that takes us up several floors.

She smiles. "When was the last time you came to a game?"

The elevator is covered in mirrors. She wears a pencil skirt and a jersey with Logan's last name on the back. I wear jeans with mine. I French tucked my shirt, but my eyes are stuck on the word printed across my shoulders. SANTIAGO.

I bite the inside of my lip. "I'm pretty sure the last time I was at a game was in college when my brother still played."

"Your brother used to play football?"

I nod. "That's how we met Saint."

The doors open and I follow Evie through a long, wide hallway. On the outside wall, large windows let the light in and provide a lovely view of fans pouring into the building, and the city around us. On the side facing the field, shiny white walls are decorated with SEATTLE STRIKE painted in the team's blue, in big blocky letters. Numbered doors mimic the look, blending into the wall.

"But do you like the sport?" Evie asks. "Not that I can judge too hard if you don't. I never cared for football, until I got an internship with the Strike."

"No, I can't say I like it. Too stressful. I hate that there's always a loser, you know?"

"Yeah, I hate seeing them feeling bad when they lose." She sighs. "Okay, we're here."

She opens the door to the suite. It's smaller than I imagined, with a couple of rows of seats by the windows, where up to fifteen people could hang out and watch the field below. A small buffet table waits tucked into the corner, brimming with drinks and food. A high table with chairs stands near the other wall, in sight of the large TV broadcasting the game.

"Have you met the rest of the gang yet?" Evie takes me all the way to the chairs at the front, where two people wait for us.