“Sounds like a messy situation.”
He laughs at my comment. “It was definitely messy.” Our attention gets pulled for a few seconds to a group of guys that are all laughing as they come out of the dugout and onto the field. “Have you gotten all settled in, now that you’ve been here a few weeks?” JJ asks.
“Yep, got all moved in to my apartment. I’ve been exploring the city when I can, finding the best places to blow off steam, if you know what I mean.” I smirk, knowing that he damn well knows what I’m talking about.
“Yeah, I heard all about you blowing off steam.” He chuckles. “Just keep yourself out of the spotlight, and you can blow off all the steam you want,” he adds.
“I can’t help it if the camera loves me.” I strike a pose for the pretend photographer.
“An attitude like that will do nothing but get you into trouble, and being in trouble will forever keep you on Carmen’s shit list,” JJ says.
“What’s her deal?” I ask, hoping that my interest isn’t glaringly apparent.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warns. “She isn’t your type, or better yet, you aren’t hers.”
“I was just wondering why she’s always so pissed off or acting like she’s got a stick up her ass.”
“When you cause problems she’s got to clean up, you aren’t going to see her fun and friendly side. Maybe try doing something that brings you good publicity and see how she reacts.”
“Eh, what’s the fun in that?” I joke. “I’ll be honest, I kind of like seeing her all worked up.”
“Keep those thoughts to yourself.” He barks out a laugh. “She’ll be the first one to put you in your place if you try and come on to her,” he warns.
“I’ll take that as a challenge.”
“Whatever, man, just don’t go pissing her off. You make the entire team’s lives miserable; we’ll make your life miserable. Understand?” he asks, giving me a stern glare.
“Got it,” I tell him. I don’t have any plans on pissing off the rest of my team. I worked my ass off to get called up; no way I want to piss anyone off and have them sending me back down.
I step out onto the field and look around at the empty stadium. It won’t be long and the gates will be opened, and the fans will fill all the seats. I remember back to the first time I ever played in a stadium this large. It wasn’t anything compared to playing for the Lightning, but it was still an incredible experience. I was in college when it happened, now playing here is always special. I’m used to the big lights and the sounds of the massive crowds.
I run a few laps around the outfield as I warm my body up in my pre-game ritual. I’ve fine-tuned what works best for me over the years, changing up little things here and there that help me play to the best of my abilities. The last thing I want to happen is to get hurt bad enough I end my career before it ever has time to really take off. I’ve put in way too many early mornings and late nights staying up to practice to throw it all away now that I have my future and dreams in the palm of my hand.
I wipe the sweat from my face, the afternoon sun beating down on me. I’m hopeful the temps will dip a little once the sun goes down and isn’t shining directly on the field with an evening game. I look over to the dugout and see a few people milling about. A few other guys are out here stretching and warming up. The grounds crew is out perfecting the dirt, lining the field with the chalk lines, and putting in the bases before the game. I notice Carmen talking to a few people I don’t recognize, pointing to different parts of the field, and now my curiosity has piqued. What are they discussing? Is she really having to explain the game and where players spread out to on the field? I pick up my glove, ball, and water bottle and head back toward where she’s standing. I have to pass right by them to head back inside to the locker room so I can get dressed in my uniform and ready for the official warmups before the game.
“Lucas,” Carmen greets me as I approach. The disdain practically drips from her voice as she says my name.
“Carmen,” I greet in return and watch her reaction from behind my polarized sunglasses. I know she can’t see my eyes behind these lenses, which allows me full range of taking in her luscious curves. What I wouldn’t do to get her under me, or on top of me, or hell, against a wall for all I care. There is just something about this woman that drives me fucking crazy. “I didn’t realize giving tours was part of the PR department’s job.” I smirk.
“I’m not giving a tour; we’re going over station placement for the Fan Fun Day that is next week,” she informs me. “Don’t forget. Everyone is required to attend and help. You’ll have a specific job that day, so don’t screw it up,” she says, turning to face me fully as she stands her ground. I take a small step forward, effectively closing the gap between us. I don’t have any intentions of touching her since she’s in her business attire while I’m standing here sweaty in a tank
