“So I fisted her ass in both my hands, slammed her against my front door, and right there in the hallway, man, her hands go for my di—”

“Hey, boys,” I chimed in just before one of the players went into a graphic story about his latest sexual conquest.

“Ms. Grey.” The players’ eyes roamed up and down my body, sending a painful shiver through me. Baseball players are douchebags. I never thought I’d find myself here, behind the scenes and working with these rowdy, testosterone-injected jocks. But the coach was an old family friend and I couldn’t exactly say no, and for a former ball player he was a decent guy—married since he was twenty-one to a wife he adored—he kept his nose clean and was never known for any destructive behavior. I only wished that the other ball players in my life were like him.

“Prepared to play the best game of your lives tonight?” I stopped, nailing them with my eyes so they knew I meant business.

“Sure thing, hot stuff.” The player winked. I groaned inwardly just as my eyes landed on a soft, sympathetic gaze caressing mine.

“Show the woman some respect, asshole.” Cash socked him in the shoulder, then turned. His eyes nailed mine, and I felt my lungs empty like rapidly deflating balloons. I still didn’t know how I managed to keep my wits about me yesterday. Then last night while in bed, his dancing dark brown eyes and his cocky mouth ran through my head, the image so vivid that for a few moments I thought I could reach out and touch him.

The things Cash Greenwood made me feel didn’t at all sit well with me. He was arrogant, conceited, and without a doubt a total manwhore, just like all the other players on the team. I remembered the headlines when his buddy Rodriguez had been caught getting lucky with a fan in the locker room a few years ago. That was a shitstorm, and so was he. And considering they say like attracts like, I was pretty sure Cash enjoyed the same excesses. He was just lucky that his escapades were yet to be caught on camera.

“Mornin’.” Cash’s body pressed up against mine, his fingers trailing across the skin at my wrist like a kiss. His kiss. What would Cash’s kisses feel like? I could just imagine my fingers tracking along that rugged jawline, his broad palms splayed across my back when he pressed his lips to mine. I quickly snapped out of my reverie.

“All right, Ms. Grey?” Cash breathed against my neck and sent an explosion of flames through every last nerve ending I possessed. His breath was warm and tempting, almost intoxicating in its allure.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I swallowed, taking a single step back and averting my eyes from his. “And good morning, Mr. Greenwood.”

“Enjoy the game?” His lips hovered just inches from mine, close enough to send waves of arousal pounding through my blood.

“I told you, I don’t like—”

“I know, I know, but I’m hoping I can change your mind about that.”

“Doubt it. I’ve spent too many hours of my life in the dugout. I know what to expect, and it’s not for me.”

“Spent a lot of time in the dugout, huh?” He tipped his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as he worked over my words.

“Grew up in one.”

He arched an eyebrow. “So…you must have someone in the family who played ball?”

“Maybe.” I grinned, turning on my heel and retreating down the long hall that led to the field. I hadn’t meant to reveal that bit of information about growing up in a ball field, but that doesn't mean I had to reveal anything else. I never told anyone about my childhood. The chaos that surrounded it was already too much for me to bear. I wasn’t interested in rehashing any of it.

“Delilah!” Cash called, but I kept walking, pretending I couldn’t hear. Don’t let him see you sweat, because if you turn around right now he’s going to see the cheesy smile on your traitorous face. I turned the corner, stepping up into the rows of seats and taking my place next to the dugout. I didn’t like to be right in there with them, interrupting their flow, but I did like to be close throughout the game to get a sense of the players, learn their habits under pressure, and make a note of how they held themselves when cameras were on and thousands of pairs of eyes were watching their every move.

I watched as the players filtered out onto the field one by one, tossing balls and swinging bats as they warmed up. I may not have liked the jocks under those uniforms, but something about a ball field made me feel more at home than anything else ever had. The smell of the popcorn, the glare of the stadium lights, the sound of cleats on dusty bags as players rounded bases. I had a love-hate relationship with this game, I had been introduced to it at an early age and since then it had been a constant in my life. Dad had hauled me and my little sister to the ball field every time he played a home game in the summer. We’d bring our toys, books, anything we could think of to keep us busy as he played. I looked at the bench, then at the field, and happy memories as a little girl flooded me. Then, just like I had been hit by a hammer, the pain catapulted into my heart and mind. I quickly remembered why ball players were men that I needed to stay far away from.

“Jesus, where’s Cash?” Coach hollered just as Cash came around the corner and jogged out onto the field, his walk-up song, “Greenlight” by Pitbull, pounding through the speakers. Red light, green light, give me everything you got, red light, green light…

Dammit, why did he have to be so tall and broad and…sexy?

I averted my eyes to my phone, tapping out a text to meet a girlfriend for drinks later. I’d have to keep my mind preoccupied if I was going to spend every day of the next nine months watching him play.

Any hot players you can hook me up with? Tori replied.

I groaned.

Why did it seem like the universe was conspiring against me?

Ball players suck, Tori. ;)

I waited for her answer, my eyes lifting and catching Cash’s gaze on mine. What the hell? Why was he looking at me? A crooked grin turned his lips before he brushed his thumb across his lower lip.

His really full lower lip.

I frowned, turning back to my phone to find Tori had replied.

Gimme names. I’ll Google them and tell you which ones are bangable.

I choked down a laugh before typing out. I’m working! You’re being a distraction!

Isn’t that what you wanted, a distraction? Came her quick reply.

Yes, but I don’t think of these guys like that. I have a job to do. I waited, ready to shove the phone in my bag and ignore her altogether.

Then why aren’t you doing it instead of texting me? ;)

I sent her the middle finger emoji, then dropped the phone into my bag and turned my eyes back to the players. Cash was waiting near the dugout, swinging a bat as he waited for his turn at bat. His gaze swung across the crowd, settling on mine instantly.

He stared intently, as if he wanted to speak to me without words, before he finally tipped his helmet and stood straight. He was well over six feet, the uniform hanging perfectly on his body, in just the right way to hint at the taut muscles beneath. I shifted in my seat, feeling an unfamiliar throbbing between my thighs. I’d never been turned on by a guy in uniform before. What the hell was going on with me? Was this some sort of premature midlife crisis? I’d vowed over and over again to never even look at a baseball player. Like breaking a bad habit, I’d trained my mind to divert whenever I saw an attractive one, but it wasn’t working this time. Cash was on my mind all the time.

“Damn you, Cash Greenwood,” I said out loud, knowing he wouldn't be able to make out my words from all the way across the field. I had to stay professional, keep my wits about me. Don’t let him get under your skin, Delilah.

Cash grinned at me one last time before turning his attention to the pitcher and slamming a wild home run right out of the ball park. My eyes widened at the sheer force of his batting abilities. No wonder he was on the radar of every single team in Major League Baseball. The man was a monster, a force to be reckoned with. This was going to be a long day. Him, his pitching and catching, and me, tamping down my urge to rip his clothes off.

I knew sitting here for the next three hours would be torture. Because every time I glanced up, my eyes somehow found his, like we were in the middle of a magnetic field. I hated that magnetic field. It was complete and utter bullshit.

Nearly four hours later, when I’d finally packed up my laptop and headed out of the stands and down into the inside of the stadium, I took the long, dark back hallway to the employee parking area. I hadn’t spoken to any of the players after the game. I’d promised Coach the stats by morning, so there was no chance I could stop and get that drink with Tori.

I dug through the oversized bag on my shoulder, pulling out my phone to text her, when I ran smack into a wall of a body. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“If you wanted to touch me, Grey, you could have just asked.” Cash. Dammit.

“Hardly.” I narrowed my eyes. I knew there was no logical reason for my distaste toward him, but my history with ball players and my attraction to him made me insane. It was a lethal combination of hate and lust. Besides, I had no patience for arrogance, and it came off of him in waves. Sexy waves of bulging muscle, rich eyes, and the face of a rugged angel. Why did he have to be so damn attractive?

“In a hurry? Let's get a drink.”

“No can do, Greenwood. I’ve got stats to run tonight.”

“Sounds fun. I’ll bring pizza.”

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. “No, I need to focus. You are the last thing I want in my life.”

“Or exactly the thing you didn’t know you needed.”

“Are you always so…”

“Charming?” His lips twitched up in a smile.

“I was going to say irritating.” His grin turned wider then, and I swear to God, my ovaries just exploded while my heart skipped a beat.

“I’ll warn you, I don’t have any plans of giving up anytime soon.” His presence ate up all the oxygen between us. It had to be a hundred degrees in this hallway. I placed a hand to my neck, my mind racing with the effect he had. I wondered if I looked like how I felt, desperate, needy, and a little confused. That combination was one that caused anger to simmer within me. I just wanted to get away, but something was keeping me at a standstill.

“Why not? I’ve made it clear you and I are never happening.”

“Because you’re the only woman who’s ever made me interested enough to try before. That makes you and me a sure thing.”

“What?” I laughed. “That’s some twisted logic, Cash.”

“See, I made you laugh. You need more people in your life who make you laugh.”

“How on earth would you know what I need more of in my life?”

“I can see it in your eyes—focused, driven, a little lonely.” His thumb slid down the line of my neck. Just the faintest of touches, sending a wildfire blazing through my body.

“You’re wrong on one of those three.”

“Yeah,” He leaned a little closer, his soapy, post-shower skin like a powerful punch to my girl parts. “I guess you weren’t so focused earlier.”

His thumb danced across the curve of my jaw. I clenched my fists, vibrating with some sort of heady arousal I’d never felt before. “Good night, Greenwood.”

“Cash. Call me Cash! I liked hearing the sound of my name on the sweetest lips I’ve ever seen,” he called, but I was already halfway down the hall, the sound of my heels echoing through my ears. “Good night, Delilah!” I heard his soft chuckle, turning only once as I pushed through the doors to chance a final glance his way.

He was still standing there, hands on hips, and the most amused smile I’d ever seen on his sexy lips.

I had never really been a fan of my name. It always seemed bland and rather boring, so why had it felt like fireworks blasting off in my stomach when he did it?

Damn that arrogant son of a bitch and his pretty smile.