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Benching Brady (The Perfect Game Series) by Samantha Christy (6)


 

“I’ve been offered a job,” I tell Rylee.

She stops moving the ultrasound device and looks me in the eyes. “You have a job.”

I look down at my arm that is sore as hell after today’s PT. “We don’t know that yet, do we? My forearm still burns. My fingers are numb and I still can’t grasp anything worth a shit.”

“It’s been two weeks, Brady. You have to give yourself time to heal. A hundred-mile-an-hour ball hitting your arm does a lot of damage. You’re expecting too much. You are progressing at an acceptable level. You should be happy with that.”

“Acceptable?” I say, deplorably. “I’ll never pitch again if I’m just acceptable. I need to be exceptional, Ry.”

She raises a brow at me. “Ry? We’re using nicknames now?”

I shrug and she giggles.

“I have every reason to believe you will be exceptional again, Bray.”

I give her crazy eyes and we fall into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, it doesn’t quite work on you, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. But my driver calls me BrayTay,” I tell her.

“Your driver?”

“The guy who drove me to and from here for the past two weeks. Lenny.”

“You hired a private car?”

I can tell she disapproves.

“No. He was one of my first Uber drivers when I got down here. The guy kind of grew on me and I figured it would be easier than getting a rental and driving with one arm. So I got his card and have been using him ever since.”

“Wow. He must feel like he hit the jackpot.”

I laugh. “Yeah. I’m a good tipper.”

“So you’re stuck at the hotel without a car unless you call Lenny.”

“Pretty much. But it’s only a two-minute walk to the beach.”

She scolds me with her eyes.

“I was careful,” I say. “Plus, those restrictions are lifted now, right? When can I start running?”

“Let’s give that another week or so, shall we? You’re going to need all your strength to keep up with my PT.”

“I don’t doubt it. Has anyone ever told you you’re the Queen of Pain?”

Her face breaks into a beautiful smile. “All the time.”

“Can I ask you a question, Ry?”

“As long as it’s not a personal one.” She winks at me.

“It’s not. The doc in New York gave me a twenty-to-thirty percent chance at a full recovery, yet you tell me I’ll be exceptional again. Why?”

“Brady, I couldn’t very well do my job if I didn’t believe what I do will help people. It’s true, there are some people who will never completely recover, but I have to believe in myself in order to believe in you. And you shouldn’t want anyone working on you who thinks differently.”

“Damn, girl.”

“What?” She cocks her head to the side.

“You’d get along great with my friend, Murphy.”

She puts away the ultrasound wand. “I’m not looking for a setup.”

“Murphy is a woman, Rylee.”

“Oh, well in that case, I’d love to meet her.”

“She lives in New York. She’s engaged to my best friend, Caden.”

“Kessler?”

“The one and only.”

She gets a sweet, dreamy look on her face. “Oh, my gosh. Is she the home run girl?”

I laugh at the nickname the sports community dubbed Murphy after she was hit by his ball.

“Yeah.”

“Well then, I have to meet her. Will she be coming with Caden when you guys play the Rays?”

“I don’t think so. She doesn’t travel with him much. She has a great job.”

She hooks me up to the TENS unit and then starts typing away in my chart. Then she looks up as if she just remembered something. “Speaking of jobs – what was the offer you got?”

I nod. “That involves Murphy, too. She wants me to be a friggin’ model, can you believe that? The gym she works for is the largest in the city and the owners are developing their own brand of workout clothing. They’ve asked her to be the female model and me to be her male counterpart.”

“Oh, wow. Is that the gym Mason Lawrence owns?”

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“You said it was the biggest. When I was in PT school, people would talk about that place all the time. Did you know they have an athletic trainer and a PT on staff?”

“I did know that. Mason is a friend. I also work out there in the off-season, so I’ve used all of their services.”

“So it sounds like you could do the modeling in addition to your day job, no?”

“I suppose.”

“Why not do it then?”

I shrug.

“Oh, you think you’re too big for it. Is that why?”

“No,” I pout.

“You think a big-time MLB pitcher is too good to pose in workout clothes for his friend’s gym, don’t you? A friend who could very well profit greatly by having you do so. And his gym will prosper, possibly creating more jobs for people and surely resulting in increases in pay for those who already work there. Do you not want Mason Lawrence to be your boss or something? Are you one of those guys who is all alpha-male and can’t stand having other people tell them what to do and how to do it?”

“You’re pretty bossy and I don’t seem to have a problem with that,” I tease.

“Maybe not when your livelihood depends on it,” she quips.

“I don’t think I’m too good to do it,” I argue.

“Then do it. What do you have to lose? It will give you something to do until you are one hundred percent.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Keeping busy is good for the mind and it actually helps injured players deal with life better.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

She goes back to her typing, but talks to me as she does it. “In fact, maybe you should think about getting that rental car. Sitting around all day is not going to help your recovery. You need to get out there. See the city. Have some fun.”

“Or you could pick me up on Friday and show me the town.”

She stops typing and looks at me abhorrently. “I’m not dating an athlete, Brady. Not to mention it violates my contract to date a player.”

“Ha! You can thank Sawyer Mills for that. They even amended the wording to include family members of employees after not one, but two daughters of team coaches complained about him last year. But rest assured, I’m not asking you out, Rylee. I’m just asking a friend to show me the town.”

“I don’t know. And you’ve seen the town, Brady. Lots of times.”

“I’ve seen the inside of bars, Rylee. I’ve never seen Tampa through the eyes of someone who lives here. You said yourself there are lots of places to see. So show me.” I narrow my eyes at her. “And, hey, what’s so bad about dating an athlete?”

“Sorry,” she says, looking slightly guilty to have said it the way she did. “It’s just that when you work day in and day out with them, you hear a lot of stuff and you get jaded.”

I try to gauge the honesty of her statement. I mean, the way she said she wouldn’t date an athlete, it wasn’t like she was just making an excuse not to date me specifically, it seemed more like she’d had a bad experience with one or something.

But I can’t ask her. That would be too personal.

I’m beginning to regret my rules. I wonder if she’d let me re-write them to just exclude my personal life.

“Come on, Ry.”

She chews on the inside of her cheek for a minute. “I’d have to move some things around.”

“What things?” I ask.

She closes her laptop and glares at me. “What happened to no personal questions?”

Damn. Now I really want to change the rules.

“Fine,” I say petulantly, wondering just what plans she needs to move around. Does she have a boyfriend here? Or is he one of those ‘ties’ she mentioned leaving behind in New York? “So what do you say? Assuming you can change your other plans.”

She picks up her pen and points it at me. “No flirting. No kissing. No accidentally brushing against my boobs and then claiming it was because you had one too many drinks. In fact – no drinking.”

I stare her down, trying not to laugh at the fact that in all my time in the majors, not once have I had a woman say words like that to me. And I have to say, it’s fucking refreshing.

I laugh. “Okay, I concede to all those things. You’ll do it then?”

Her lips pucker as she considers it. “Under one condition.”

I raise a brow at her. “As if there aren’t any already?”

She rolls her eyes. “No throwing your money around. No first-class anything. No going to the head of the line because of who you are. Just a normal night for two normal people.”

“That’s three conditions, Rylee.”

“Do you want to do this or not?”

I smile at her moodiness. “You drive a hard bargain, but yes.”

“No violating the rules, Brady. Don’t forget that within these four walls, I own you. I’m the Queen of Pain, remember?”

I try not to laugh again because she looks damn cute when she’s so demanding.

And suddenly. I can’t wait for it to be Friday.

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