Chapter 7

Mackenzie

Brooks Elliott smellslike the ocean, and it's making me want to go dance on the beach under the moonlight.

With him.

Except not with him, because I can still barely talk.

But you did talk!my inner cheerleader reminds me.

As soon as we exit the house, his date veers off to talk to Luca. The look she's giving Brooks suggests she's not going to be heading back to the bedroom with him anytime soon.

Totally worth all the humming. Another high five for me.

"Fireballs' biggest fan, eh?" Brooks nods to my breasts, and I realize he's actually looking at my Fiery Forever button—isn't he?

Or is he?

Is he checking out my breasts and pretending he's looking at the button?

After I cock-blocked him?

No.

Definitely not. He wouldn't do that.

He would not hit on me, because first of all, he was just trying to score with another woman, and second of all, the universe would basically implode if a baseball player truly hit on me, because I am the biggest dork in all of existence when I'm around my idols.

Yet, even though we're surrounded by players and their girlfriends and wives and dogs and wanna-be flings, I feel like we're entirely alone.

And the weirdest thing is happening.

I'm breathing okay. And I can almost talk like a normal human being. "Number one." I tap my button. "Always number one."

Maybe Sarah was right.

I need to get over myself and do this.

It's not like the team can get any worse than last year.

Oh, shit. Oh, hell. I need to knock on wood.

Dozens of freaking baseball players, and not a single wooden bat in sight.

"You know Tripp and Lila?" he asks.

"Through Sarah." Need some wood. Need some wood.

And I'm not talking about the wood in Brooks's pants. Which no one will be knocking on under my watch.

Maybe him hitting on me would be a good thing? Because I definitely won't sleep with him.

Ever.

My team needs that much from me.

He tightens his grip on my arm as he pulls me out of the way of a cluster of women leaping back from a spilled drink near the firepit. "You have strong feelings about the new mascot costume?"

Double-triple dammit, does he know that was me last night? "Anyone who cares about the Fireballs has strong feelings."

"Wait. Are you the one leading the charge on social media to bring back the dragon?"

"Fiery. For. Ever."

He pauses and studies me like he's trying to decide what I'd do in the name of my favorite mascot, then smiles, and oh, god, he has the cutest smile. With one side of his mouth hitched a little higher than the other, eyes beginning to crinkle in the corners like he's spent thirty years on this earth doing nothing but smiling, and his light brown hair mussed, though I refuse to think about why.

"You let me know if you need any help. I might be new, but I like the dragon best too."

The tension that built as he started his questions melts away, and my shoulders sag in relief as I nod vigorously.

Yep.

Totally going to swoon.

Even knowing he's trying to sabotage the team by getting laid, I am not immune to him offering to help in my quest to bring back Fiery.

I still won't sleep with him, but maybe I could lead him on a little so he only wants to hit on me?

No. Bad Mackenzie.

Not only would I like to not die of hyperventilation, but my dads and Sarah would probably like that too.

Probably. "Do you want a Fiery Forever button?"

"Duh." He winks. "Don't tell anybody, but I helped the meatball escape last night."

I suck in a surprised breath, because first of all no, he didn't, which I know, because I was there, and second, I can't believe I got away with it.

"My hero," I manage faintly.

"I don't know who thought that thing was a good idea. I mean, is it a meatball, or is it a giant round flaming turd? It should be on hemorrhoid commercials, not representing a baseball team."

"That's exactly what I told Tripp and Lila!"

We share a look, and oh my god, I'm sharing a look with one of baseball's hottest sluggers.

"Mackenzie!"

A different feeling floods through me as Sarah breaks through the crowd. I wave, then throw myself at her for a hug.

She's laughing as she squeezes me back.

"I got lost playing hide-and-seek with Cooper," I blurt.

Hide-and-seek.

Sheer genius, or complete madness.

Probably both.

Either way, I've managed to stop Brooks from making a huge mistake without also revealing myself as the same person who jock-blocked him last night.

Sarah pulls back, glances at Brooks, then at me, and she's known me for way too long, because I can see realization dawning.

Her lips twitch. She tries to squeeze them together, but I know what's going on.

She knows.

She knows I was keeping him from getting laid.

We've been best friends for over a decade. And while I didn't know until two years ago who her parents are—hello, Hollywood royalty—she knows when I'm plotting something.

"Curfew," Beck says as he joins us. He claps Brooks on the shoulder. "Rest up, slugger. We're counting on you. Thanks for a great party."

Brooks is staring at Beck's junk. "Is that…a steak in your pants?"

We all look at Beck's pants. Both pockets are bulging.

"The steak's under his shirt." Sarah taps one of his pockets. "Pretty sure these are cookies."

"Hey. This one's vegetables." Beck taps his other pocket.

"He eats a lot," I tell Brooks, like it's natural for me to explain the habits of an underwear model to a baseball slugger god.

Brooks winces. "Yeah. I know. Sister. Huge fan."

"Like the kind that knows my underwear size?" Beck asks.

"I need to go see a guy. About a thing. And not talk about your steak, vegetables, cookies, or underwear. Ever. Again." Brooks gives me a half-smile. "See you around, Mackenzie. Let me know if you ever want tickets."

He turns and saunters away, and did I say Cooper Rock has a great ass?

Because he has nothing on Brooks Elliott.

Holy. Butt. Cheeks.

"You talked to baseball players!" Sarah whispers as she tugs me to follow the crowd of women leaving the party.

Ashley—or was it Ainsley?—is a couple people in front of us, so I slow my steps and pretend I'm checking my pockets to make sure I didn't leave anything, except my dress doesn't have pockets.

So basically, I look like I'm checking my hips to make sure I didn't add any extra pounds.

"Hey, Mac, you feeling better?" Cooper Rock says behind us.

I jump.

Then nod vigorously.

He meets my gaze.

Glances back to where Brooks is entering his house.

Then slides me a grin and a wink. "Good. Nice chatting. Thanks for that laundry trick. Later, taters. I need my slugger sleep."

Sarah pulls me behind a palm tree near the driveway. "Mackenzie, did Cooper Rock help you cock-block Brooks Elliott?"

"I'm not listening to this." Beck turns his back on both of us and pulls his steak out from under his shirt. It's wrapped in aluminum foil, and he peels back one corner and lifts it to his mouth. "There's a code."

"Cooper smelled good so I asked what detergent he used," I lie.

Sarah winces.

Beck makes a noise and takes another bite of the steak.

"But I talked to Cooper Rock! With words and everything."

She's shaking her head as she pulls me into another hug. "And Brooks Elliott. I'm so proud of you!"

Beck holds out a fist. "Give it up, Mac."

I bump him. My heart's doing that erratic thing where it's fine one minute and racing the next, and I should probably get checked out to make sure I'm not having a heart attack.

Sarah pets my hair as she pulls back. "You feel okay?"

"As well as I should."

"Did you talk to Brooks about the virgin thing?"

"Ninety-eight percent positive it's true." And if not, it should be. He's super awkward.

Like, how does a guy get to be a god on the field but can't even talk to a woman in private? First the janitor last night, and tonight—well.

It's none of my business.

He could talk to me, but it's not like he's trying to score with me. I'm the weirdo who was humming baseball songs in his closet, and there's no way those vibes I was getting off him mean he was hitting on me, and even if they do, I already know he has zero taste in women.

He just wants to get laid.

I happen to have the right equipment.

Cooper has a point—it has to be hard being a thirty-year-old virgin. But if he held out for New York this many years, he can give the Fireballs a single season.

My phone dings with a text.

It's from Fiery the Dragon, which means it's really from Cooper.

I'm looking into that thing. What kind of donuts do you like? I'm having them flown in from my brother's bakery. Meet me on the beach in the morning, and we can have another conversation where we don't look at each other while you tell me what you learned.

Sarah taps my phone. "You told Cooper."

"Someone on the team needed to know."

Her eyes are round, like she's not sure if she should be horrified or extra proud of me that my first conversation with a baseball player was about the state of use of another player's penis.

"I know, okay? I know it's crazy. But after I told Cooper, he put me in Brooks's bedroom, and then Brooks came in with that woman while I was hiding in the closet, and I let him get half-naked. And they touched. And kissed. And she had her hands down his pants before I started humming. If he can't hit for crap tomorrow, then we know it's true."

Beck shifts uncomfortably and takes another huge bite of steak.

I might be going too far. It takes a lot to make Beck uncomfortable.

Sarah's face is contorting. "Humming?"

"Please don't ask more about the humming. Plus, he called her the wrong name at least once, so he shouldn't be sleeping with her anyway." I stick my lower lip out like a toddler, then jerk my head toward the driveway. "Can we go? I really want to get to the ballpark early tomorrow, and I need to make new signs first."

"And you're meeting Cooper Rock for breakfast."

"Not alone. I couldn't deny Beck donuts. Especially from Cooper's brother's bakery. So, you're coming with me, right?"

Beck shoves more steak in his face, which could either mean he's really hungry—basically his default setting—or it could mean he's avoiding the question because he doesn't want to take part in plotting another man's cock-blocking.

Sarah frowns. "If the team wins tomorrow, are you prepared to have breakfast with Cooper every day this season?"

"That is so not fair."

"Mackenzie. You know I love you. But this is possibly going a little too far."

She's probably right.

But I'm saving judgment on if I'm being crazy until tomorrow.

If Brooks hits it out of the ballpark again, then fine.

I'll let Cooper decide what's best for the team.

But if he strikes out all day, Operation: Guard Brooks's Innocence is on.