I ignore the comments, but I can tell Murphy is bothered by them. However, she doesn’t acknowledge any of the incessant questions. “It’s going to be dark soon,” she says, going to remove the hat. “I don’t think I’ll need it.”

I stop the movement of her hand. “Keep it. Wear it. Doctor’s orders.”

“I wouldn’t argue with my brother if I were you,” Lexi says. “Believe me, it won’t end well. He’s as stubborn as a mule. Plus, I’m pretty sure Kyle would tell you the same thing. You need to protect your face from the sun while it heals.”

I laugh when Murphy rolls her eyes and fake pouts.

“Whatever, Doc,” she says.

“Doc?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Just trying out nicknames.”

“Keep trying, Old Man Murphy.”

Lexi laughs at our exchange. “Oh my gosh! I get it now. The box. Old Man Murphy.” She smacks me playfully on the arm. “You are terrible. I thought maybe Melanie had been hitting the booze.” She gestures to Murphy. “And I’ve never seen so many shades of red on a face before.”

She asks Murphy, “You need a nickname for him? I have a few from our childhood. Rat, Bug, Tool, Squirt, Homer, take your pick.”

I roll my eyes at my big sister as the girls share a giggle.

“Oh, how could I have forgotten?” Murphy says. “Congratulations on your home run.”

“Thanks. I’m just glad it didn’t hit anyone this time.”

“Me, too. And the guy who caught it gave it to a kid,” she says, smiling.

“I know. Sawyer told me.”

“Did you sign it for him?” Lexi asks.

“Yeah. Hey, speaking of my home run,” I say to Murphy. “I think you need to come to all my games. You seem to be a good luck charm. And you have to wear that shirt and the finger.”

She looks down at her shirt and then at the finger she must have forgotten she was ‘wearing.’

Lexi leans over to her and explains, “Baseball is a superstitious sport. When something goes well, you have to do the same thing in hopes that it will be repeated. That was number twenty-seven, right, Caden?”

“Lucky twenty-seven,” I say, sharing a nostalgic smile with Lexi. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll buy you girls a drink and then I’ll get you home.”

As we make our way out of the stadium, I notice a guy lurking at the entrance. He looks familiar. He’s staring right at me. At us.

Although I know he’s probably just a fan wanting an autograph, I go into protective mode since I’m with Lex and Murphy. I keep looking over at him to see if he’s going to follow us. I even pull out my phone, ready to summon Drew or his security team in case we need assistance.

I can’t shake the feeling that I know him from somewhere.

“How about Klingmans?” Lexi asks. “They make good margaritas there.”

Oh, shit. I know why he looks familiar. Klingmans was the restaurant Sawyer, Rob and I went to on our triple date. And the guy standing over by the entrance, staring at me, is the same guy who was sitting at the bar there last night—staring at me.

Great. Looks like I have another goddamn stalker. I send a quick text to Drew, hoping he can scare the guy into backing off. But when I look up from my phone, he’s gone.

So much for unwinding after the double-header. I ruin my time with the girls because I spend the next few hours looking over my shoulder.

Chapter Sixteen

Murphy

“You seem to be getting the hang of things around here,” Trick says, giving me her schedule for next week.

Trick is one of the full-time personal trainers at the gym. She’s funny, smart, and super strong. And I’m not exactly sure if she’s a she. But I don’t know her well enough to ask.

The past few weeks working at the gym have been a lot of fun. Much more fun than modeling. Okay, so the pay is considerably lower, but if I’m being honest, having a steady paycheck is more exciting to me than living off ramen noodles ninety percent of the time and living like a queen the other ten percent.

I mean, who knows what would have happened if I’d been able to take the job with that high-end clothing line. I keep thinking back to what Caden said about living on borrowed time. In model years, twenty-three is over-the-hill. I might’ve gotten in a few good years, but at the end of it all, what would I really have had?

It’s only taken me two weeks to realize I want more out of life than getting on the cover of a magazine and then being remembered as a has-been. And it’s only taken that same two weeks for the owners of the gym to take notice of me.

The other day, Jayden, the manager, asked me to help with some paperwork since the membership coordinator is on maternity leave. I think she was impressed with how organized and detail-oriented I was. I told her I had taken some business courses at the community college back in Iowa, and then the next day, I was informed the owners wanted me trained as an assistant to the coordinator. It doesn’t mean any more money. Not yet anyway. But who knows what could happen. This is the biggest gym in the city. The staff is huge and business is booming.

“I’ve been trying hard to keep up with all your schedules. With fourteen trainers, that’s practically a full-time job in itself,” I tell her.

“Well, you’re doing a great job,” she says. “You are so organized. I’ll bet your apartment is always neat and clean, isn’t it?”

“Ha! Hardly. I live in a two-bedroom apartment with four other girls, all of them models. That equals a lot of clothes and makeup lying around. Not to mention the fact that getting any quality bathroom time is just unheard of.”

Her jaw drops. “You live with four models? You must be one tough chick.”

“You don’t know the half of it. My cheating ex is always hanging around because he’s now dating the girl I share a room with.”

“No fucking way.”

“Way.” I nod.

“I have a cheating ex, too. In fact, she just moved her lying cheating ass out of my apartment last week.” She studies me for a second, drawing her brows together. “You know, I have a spare room. It may not be much, but it beats sharing a bedroom with a model.” She sticks her finger down her throat to let me know just how highly she regards those in my former profession. “And it takes me all of five minutes to get ready in the morning. No makeup and other crap you’d have to weed through to use the bathroom.”

“I don’t know,” I say, hesitant about moving right in with another person I barely know, considering how well it went the last time.

She sees her next client walk through the door. “Just think about it. Joan paid me rent through October, so I have more than a month before I’m in dire straits on my mortgage, and I won’t even make you pay rent until November, you know, in case you have to give some kind of notice to your other roommates.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” I say as she walks away with someone who I now know is an Olympic skater.

There are a lot of sports stars who come here. Probably because one of the owners is the starting quarterback for the Giants.

My phone vibrates in my pocket so I pull it out to check the text.

#8: Ready for your next lesson? I want to take you to a game.

Me: Isn’t your season over?

#8: Thanks for reminding me that we didn’t make the playoffs.

Me: Sorry.

#8: I’m joking, Old Man Murphy. You aren’t working Saturday afternoon, are you?

Me: What did you have in mind?

#8: I’m taking you to a Yankees game.

Before I can answer him, an attractive woman who has blonde hair with inky-black tips approaches the counter. “I’m looking for Murphy Brown,” she says.

I roll my eyes, but I’m also grateful she didn’t ask for Old Man Murphy. “Let me guess. Caden sent you?”

“Kind of, I mean he told me about you, but I didn’t think he knew I’d come in,” she says. “I’m Piper Lawrence. Did he tell you to expect me?”

“He didn’t tell me anything, but he’s the only one who calls me Murphy Brown. I think he has some obsession with an old TV show or something.”

“Your name isn’t Murphy Brown?” she asks.

I hold my hand out to her. “Murphy Cavenaugh. Are you by chance related to one of my bosses?”

She leans in close and whispers, “I’m married to the best boss. But don’t let my sisters hear you repeat that since they are married to the other two.”

Just like when I met Lexi, I feel an instant connection with Piper.

As if reading my mind, Piper says, “You know, I’m friends with Lexi Stone. Between her and her sisters-in-law, and me and my sisters, we can throw some pretty fun girls’ nights. You should definitely join us.”

I smile thinking of how completely different that would be from when I was hanging out with my pretentious roommates. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

“I have to run and get my daughter from school,” she says, pulling a piece of paper from the printer and writing on it. “But here is my number. Text me so I can have yours. We’ll set something up.”

Before she turns to leave, she stares at my face and I think maybe she’s looking at my scars. They’re starting to fade, but I’m still self-conscious about them.

“Caden’s right,” she says. “You are gorgeous.”

She spins around and walks out the front door, leaving my jaw slightly agape.

Chapter Seventeen

Caden

We play one hundred and sixty-two games in one hundred and eighty days—and that’s if you don’t make the playoffs. It’s grueling. We rarely get a full day off during the season. Then, the day after the season ends … nothing. We go from Mach Two to zero overnight.

It’s hard on some of the guys, especially the ones who are married with kids. They go home to wives who are used to taking care of everything. For eight months, their wives paid the bills, took the kids to school, and managed the household. Then baseball season ends and their husbands come back, and for lack of anything better to do, they jump right into being the head of the family.