No. This can’t be happening. I down the rest of Lexi’s drink and go to the bar in search of another.

Hands come up and touch my shoulders, causing shivers to travel down my spine. “Having fun?” Caden asks, in a deep masculine voice that twists my insides into knots.

My eyes close and I’m glad my back is turned to him so he can’t see the visceral reaction my body is having to his words. His touch.

I stiffen and try to compose myself. “I am,” I say. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He starts to massage my shoulders. “You’re so tense, Murph. Everything okay?”

I take my beer from the bartender and turn around, shrugging his hands off my shoulders in the process. If he only knew what his touch was doing to me, he wouldn’t have put his hands on me. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

“Tired? We left your place before eleven.”

“I stayed up too late watching TV,” I confess.

“Me too.” He laughs quietly. “They had a late-night Murphy Brown marathon.”

My face heats up. I’m not sure why knowing he was watching the same show embarrasses me, but it does.

“What?” He sees my reaction. “No way. Really?”

I shrug. “Had to see what all the fuss was about. I mean, it is your favorite show and all.”

“I haven’t watched it in years,” he says. “But, yeah, it might just be my favorite show.” He winks at me.

“Why were you watching TV?” I ask. “Didn’t you and Kate … um, didn’t you go out for a drink or … something?”

Oh, God. Could I be any more awkward?

Caden laughs. “No, we didn’t go out for a drink or … something.”

I try not to smile too broadly at his admission. I try not to think about how I watched TV last night to get my mind off what he and Kate were most likely doing after they left my apartment. And now, knowing he took her straight home—it feels better than the day I got that modeling contract.

We walk over and sit down to watch the second half of the game.

“Speaking of baseball,” Caden says.

I look at him and roll my eyes. “We weren’t speaking of baseball.”

“Yeah, but now we are,” he says, elbowing me in the ribs. “When is your next day off?”

“Not until next Sunday,” I say. “I picked up some extra hours this week to cover for someone.”

Caden looks disappointed. “You work six days in a row?”

“Yes. But they aren’t all full days. I only work until noon on Thursday.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at the gym at noon on Thursday.”

I look at him sideways. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“For your next lesson.”

I laugh. “I’ve seen you play plenty of times, Caden. I believe I’ve gotten the gist of it by now.”

“But you only went to two games. And the first one doesn’t count since you didn’t even watch it.” He cringes and I know he’s thinking about his ball hitting me. Then he stares me down, a slow smile dancing up his face. “You watched my games on TV, didn’t you, Murphy Brown?”

“I may have caught a few on ESPN,” I admit, more heat creeping up my face.

He slaps his knee in excitement. “I knew it! Come on, fess up, it’s a great game, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I’d call it great. But it is growing on me.”

“What’s a walk-off grand slam?” he asks me.

“Um … some sort of home run?”

He laughs. “Some sort? Yeah, you need another lesson. Thursday. Twelve o’clock.”

“Fine. But you have to feed me first,” I say.

“I know just the place.”

The suite erupts in cheers and we look down to the field to see that Mason has just thrown a touchdown pass. Caden jumps over the back of his chair to go high-five the other guys.

He leaves me to my thoughts. Thoughts that convince me I’m going on a date on Thursday. A date with my best friend.

Lord help me.

Chapter Twenty-five

Caden

After my workout and shower, I sit in the café in the gym and wait for Murphy to finish up her shift. I can just barely overhear the conversation she’s having with her boss, and from what I can make out, it sounds like she’s been given a lot more responsibility than a front-desk receptionist would normally have.

I’m glad they’ve figured out she’s much more than a pretty face. She’s been working here for over a month now. Sometimes I wonder if she will go back to modeling when her scars fade. She never talks about it anymore. It’s almost as if she left that life behind when she moved out of her old apartment.

I see someone familiar come through the front door of the gym and I go on high alert. Tony walks to the front desk with a smirk and throws an envelope down on it. He has a few words with Murphy and I can see she’s uncomfortable, so I get up and head over.

“What’s up, Murphy?” I ask. Then I look at Tony as if I just noticed him. “Oh, and look, it’s the lying, cheating bastard.”

Tony looks at me funny. I guess he doesn’t know that I know who he is. “You don’t know dick about me,” he says.

“I don’t?” I say, coming around the desk to stand right next to him. “Let’s see. I know you were feeling up your girlfriend’s roommate while your girlfriend was getting hit by my ball on what was supposed to be a night celebrating her. I know you and the aforementioned slut were carrying on behind Murphy’s back. I know you kissed her the very day Murphy got injured and was lying in a hospital bed.”

“Whatever. Like I said, you don’t know shit,” he says.

“I saw you in the hospital cafeteria, you asshole. I heard you on the phone saying you were going to dump her because her face got messed up. I saw you stick your tongue down her roommate’s throat right there in the food line.”

Tony looks surprised, but not the least bit guilty. He nods to the envelope on the counter. “The bill for the window you smashed,” he says to Murphy.

I swipe it from her when she picks it up. I open it and then I open my wallet and take out five hundred-dollar bills and slap them on the counter in front of him. “That should cover it.”

“You aren’t paying for the window I broke,” Murphy scolds me, pushing the money back to me.

“It was my ball that broke the window,” I say. “I’m paying.”

Tony grabs the bills off the counter. “Must be nice to have a sugar-daddy,” he says.

I lean towards him, putting my chest inches from his. I look down on his face that only comes up to my neck. “You got what you came for. I suggest you leave. Now.”

“Gladly,” he says. But before he reaches the door, he turns back to me. “She was a shitty lay anyway. A cold fucking fish. But maybe you already know that.”

He walks out the door leaving Murphy horrified. There were at least five people within earshot who are now looking at her in sympathy.

She smiles awkwardly. “Let me go clock out and get my purse,” she says, quickly leaving the scene.

I’m on the phone with Sawyer a few minutes later when Murphy comes out from the back. “Gotta go, I’m taking Murphy to lunch.”

“Murphy, the girl you hit with your home run ball?” he asks.

“One and the same.”

“I’d like to meet her,” he says. “You should bring her along this weekend.”

I look at Murphy as she tries to ignore my phone conversation. “I’ll ask her. But she doesn’t date.”

Murphy furrows her brow at me. She heard her name and knows we’re talking about her.

“She went out with Brady last weekend, didn’t she?” Sawyer asks.

“As friends.”

“At least that’s what she told you,” he jokes.

I ignore his misplaced humor. “Goodbye, Mills.”

“Later, bro.”

“What was that all about?” she asks.

“My friend, Sawyer—you’ve heard me talk about him before—he wants you to come out with us on Saturday. Make it a triple date.”

“Why would you need me when you already have a wingman?”

“Wingman, huh?” I laugh. “More like a buffer. Something between me and my dates in case I need an out. Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m not going out with Brady again. He stares at my boobs.”

“Brady stares at everyone’s boobs,” I say laughing. “I’ll find you someone else then.”

Murphy looks behind me and smiles. “What are you doing Saturday night?” she asks someone over my shoulder.

I turn around and see Corey walking up to us. And he’s got a big damn grin on his face.

“I might be free,” he says, looking between us. “Why do you ask?”

“Want to go on a triple date?”

He looks confused. “I thought you two didn’t know each other.”

“We’ve recently become friends,” I say, before Murphy can respond.

He appraises me like he knows I’m lying. Then he looks back at Murphy. “Sounds good. Just tell me when and where to pick you up.”

“She’ll meet you there. Just leave your phone number at the front desk and she’ll text you the details,” I say, swinging my large bag over my shoulder as I pull Murphy towards the door. “We’re late for something.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re pushy?” Murphy asks as we walk to the subway.

“Just think of me as your overprotective big brother.”

I think I see a frown cross her face before she shakes it away and hides it with a laugh. I’m sure she always wanted siblings. I can’t imagine having grown up without Lexi.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asks.