Chapter 10

JOEY

This is stupid. If she wanted to see me, she would have responded to my texts. Yet that fact isn't stopping me from spying on Lynn from behind a concrete pillar in the main concourse while Gunner covers for me down in the clubhouse. It's our pregame downtime, so I'm not technically doing anything wrong by being here, but it's customary to stick to the clubhouse until we hit the field for pregame warm-ups. Instead, I'm out here acting like a stalker.

It took fifteen minutes to hit all the concessions until I found the one where Lynn is stationed tonight. Her dark hair is pulled up into a high ponytail just like the first day I met her, and she's wearing her red apron over a tight T-shirt and jeans while she smiles at customers and hands over nachos and sodas. The crowd is sparse since it's still an hour until game time, and if I don't get my ass out from behind this pillar, I'll lose my shot.

Just as my feet start taking me her way, though, Lynn exits out a side door and starts walking toward me, her eyes trained on the phone in her hand. I stop so I don't run headfirst into her, and I catch her with a hand to her elbow as she practically trips over me.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was—" Her words halt on her lips as soon as her eyes reach my face. "Joey?"

"Hey, Lynn." She's even more gorgeous than my memories made her out to be. There's a deeper tan to her skin, highlighting a spray of freckles across her nose and bringing out the intense caramel tone of her eyes. She's sun-kissed and beautiful, and all I want to do is lean down and capture her lips with mine.

"Hey." She glances down at her shuffling feet.

I know I don't have any more time, so I get down to business. "I wanted to find you to explain what happened last week." When she doesn't run away or punch me, I hurry on. "That stupid bet—I'm so sorry—it was just José trying to prove to Paulie that the only reason he gets dates is because he's a ballplayer. That's it. The only reason I had anything to do with it is that I realized they were going to use you to prove a point, and I wanted to keep them away from you."

When her eyes lift to meet mine again, it's clear she's searching mine for the truth. I hope she finds what she's looking for.

"So why did Paulie say you won?" Her gaze still holds some doubt.

"Because they saw me get your number. That's it. I didn't win anything." I put both palms out as if to prove I'm holding nothing back.

"And you're being straight with me?"

I make an X over my heart. "I swear on Smegma's grave."

The corner of her mouth quirks, and I hold my breath, hoping I've fixed things enough for her to give me another shot.

Lynn watches a few passersby before bringing her eyes back to my face. "And what about the age difference?" There's a challenge to her tone, and it makes me want to smile. She's nothing like the cleat chasers I've wasted time on in the past. They act like demure little kittens and agree with everything you say, to the point of hiding their entire personalities sometimes. Not like Lynn, who wouldn't dare to hide her opinion.

I wisely shake my head, remembering my chat with Gunner. "Age is just a number."

"You're damn right it is," she responds, this time allowing a half grin to form on her lush lips. But her grin drops as she glances back at the concession stand. "Look, can we chat later? I only have a fifteen-minute break, and I heard the athletics team will be wrapping things up downstairs. I want to see if I can intercept someone."

"Absolutely." She heard right. They'll be gathering in the hall downstairs like they do every night while the team dresses and warms up. It's the ideal time to chat someone up. Maybe I can even introduce her to Amy, a therapy assistant I worked with a couple times. "I'm headed that way too. I'll walk you."

She smiles up at me again, and it's like the sun made its way inside Ardent Park to shine on me.

"New girl!" We both turn at the shout coming from the concession stand to see her asshole boss glaring at her. The guy is maybe five-eight with a receding hairline and a bony frame, likely one of those guys who gets off on treating other people like shit because he's not getting laid. "Get your ass back here! We need more hot dogs for when the rush comes!"

I open my mouth to give him a piece of my mind, but Lynn beats me to it. "I'm on break, Ennis. I'll be back in a few."

"No breaks! Hot dogs take priority!"

Lynn mutters something under her breath, and I can feel the adrenaline start coursing through my veins at his tone. This guy is out of his mind. It's like he's on a hot dog power trip.

And when he opens his mouth to bellow, "Now!" I lose my cool.

Before I know what I'm doing, I stalk over to the counter and lean in, towering over this asshole. "Hey. Pipe down!" When he rolls his eyes at me, I put a finger in his face and drop my voice. "First of all, she has a name. It's Lynn. Not new girl. Lynn. Second, she already told you she's on break, so why don't you get off your ass and roll some hot dogs yourself until she gets back? Third, stop treating your employees like shit. You got that?"

His expression doesn't change, despite the fact that I'm in his face and could easily reduce him to nothing but a bloodstain on the concrete floor. Not that I would, but he doesn't know that. "And what are you going to do about it?" he asks with a greasy sneer. "Some of us are here to work. Stop hitting on my employee, go buy another Miller Lite, and watch the game, you loser."

My nostrils flare at that, and I briefly reconsider the importance of remaining employed and staying out of prison. But this guy isn't worth it. Still, I'm not about to let him continue treating Lynn this way. That's not up for debate.

"Uh, Ennis," a young blond guy says from beside him.

"Not now, Remy," Anus—that moniker is beyond fitting—bites back.

I take a breath to tell this asshole where to go again, but the blond kid interrupts, saying, "Ennis, that's Joey Martel. Shortstop for the Arrows," in a stage whisper.

Ennis's eyes widen for a split second, and I almost laugh before he schools his expression and pastes the sneer back on. But he's not looking at me anymore. His eyes are trained over my shoulder. "Trying to go over my head to tattle, new girl? Stupid move. My uncle is the Director of Operations for Ardent Park. Looks like you're barking up the wrong tree, girlie."

When I turn again to reassure Lynn that I've got this, the only thing I see is her back as she darts down the concourse and away from all of us.

I take off after her, yelling over my shoulder at the douchebag, "We're not done here!"

"Lynn!" I easily gain on her as she takes the stairs up to the mezzanine. "Wait!"

"Just leave me alone!" she calls behind her.

I draw even with her, but she keeps running, taking the stairs like she regularly trains with our team. "No! I can fix it!"

"You've done enough already," she spits as she pivots on the landing to reach the next set of stairs. When I grab her arm, she skids to a stop, whirling on me. "I told you I can take care of myself, Joey!"

"He was treating you like shit. I was just trying to help." A few fans in Arrows gear stare as they pass by, but I'm beyond caring.

"No, you were trying to take over. I never asked you to do that, and now I'm probably going to lose my job!" She rips her arm from my grip, and I let her go. Shit.

"I'm sure I can fix it." I don't make a habit of using my status to pull strings, but I won't hesitate in this case. Hell, all it would take is a word from Gunner to Elizabeth's bestie, Skye, and Lynn could have any job in the stadium she wanted. Within reason, that is. Skye's boyfriend owns the entire Arrows franchise, and word on the street is that Bronte Hughes will do absolutely anything for his woman.

"Don't do anything. Please," Lynn begs, and my jaw locks at the hurt look on her face. I did that to her. Again! "Just leave it alone. Just leave me alone."

I'm fucking everything up. Dammit!

"Lynn," I plead. "I couldn't just stand there and listen to him talk to you that way." She's got to understand.

She closes her eyes and exhales, and when she opens them again, I can see her slipping through my fingers. Her calm, matter-of-fact tone seals it. "I don't need you punching anyone in the face or stringing anyone up by their nuts because you're offended on my behalf. That's not your right. It's mine, and I was handling Ennis just fine on my own until you stuck your nose into it."

"I'm sorry, okay?" What else can I say? My intentions were good, weren't they? She's got to see that.

But her head is still shaking. "This isn't going to work."

Panic seizes hold of my chest, even though I knew this was coming. "How can you say that?"

She exhales again with a sad smile. "Because it's not supposed to be an uphill battle, and I feel like we've been fighting longer than we've even known each other. Just…let it go. It's not meant to be."

"But…" I step closer, but she backs up out of my reach.

"Goodbye, Joey. Please don't text me, and please don't track me down again."

"I…"

She clasps her hands in front of her chest as her brow furrows. "Promise me."

She looks so earnest and distraught—and still so beautiful. This is my fault. And since nothing I do seems to be right, I figure the least I can do at this point is precisely what she asks.

I take a deep breath and let it out. "I promise."

Lynn hurries up the rest of the staircase and disappears around the corner before I can say another word.