Page 103 of Off Limits: The Firsts

I glance around to the pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting for my response, and wonder where the hell Easton’s agent is. None of this makes sense to me and I need him to help me make sense of it.

The image of Easton’s signature flashes in my mind.

I learned a long time ago that front offices rarely do things that seem reasonable to the public, but in the long run make perfect sense. My dad’s voice rings loud in my ears and I’d give anything to call him right now and ask him what to do but the gentlemen waiting impatiently across the table from me wouldn’t think too highly of that. In fact it would only serve to undermine my credibility.

My stomach churns. There’s too much at stake.

For Easton.

And for me.

The whole situation feels off somehow, and I can’t help but think it’s because I’m still rattled by Easton’s confession this morning.

You’re too close, Scout. My dad was right, I am too close.

“Ms. Dalton?” Cory prompts.

What if what’s best for the team, for you, and for the player are all different things?

It’s Easton’s voice I hear now. His question from this morning comes back to haunt me.

What. Would. You. Do. Scout?

“In your informed opinion, is Easton Wylder completely rehabbed and ready to return as a contributing player to the Aces’ line-up?”

“First Santiago and now the carpet. Take it easy there, turbo, and save some energy for the game tonight.”

I glance over to Drew as he tightens a spike on his cleat while I wear a hole in the carpet of the locker room. “What the fuck is taking them so long?”

“Maybe that lady friend of yours is spilling your deep dark secrets.”

I halt midstride and glare at him and his half-cocked smirk.

“You think those of us who know you well don’t know you’ve got the hots for each other? Dude, the way you look at her is enough to make me get a boner.”

I roll my eyes. “Fuck you.”

“I got you to laugh and stopped you from making me dizzy watching you walk back and forth like a caged animal.”

“Whatever.” As soon as I say it, I realize I’m already pacing again. Shit. All I can do is hang my head and laugh at proving him right.

“My job here is done.”

“Such an asshole,” I mutter.

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.” He pats me on the back. “She better hurry the fuck up because if I have to see Santiago behind the plate one more night, instead of your ugly mug, you’re going to owe me more than just a round of beer.”

“Agreed,” I laugh as he heads into the tunnel and out to the dugout where I want to be.

My phone rings.

I can’t get to it fast enough.

“Finn. I’ve already got my jersey on. Tell me I’m good to go.”

“Easton.”

“Sweet.”

“Easton.” His voice is harsher. It begs me to stop moving. “I just got word.”

“Finn?”

“You’ve just been traded.”

The End