The Lies We Tell Read online

  For a minute.

  When I thought about it a third time, though, I remembered the legs on that woman and started toward her again, giving Kace a ‘fuck off’ along the way.

  Unfortunately, it only took me a second to realize that in the time I spent looking at Kace, she had disappeared. I scanned the entire room, not finding her anywhere.

  Fucking Kace.

  I looked back at him, but he, too, was gone. I caught sight of his back as he exited the hotel to board the team shuttle. I followed along, defeated.

  I guess there would be more hot women walking through the hotel in the coming weeks. Honestly, they were everywhere. I was never at a loss of women at my feet.

  But being cockblocked by Kace made me want that woman even more. Too bad she was a damn genie and disappeared with a blink.

  Chapter 3

  Becca

  There wasn’t much to hate about Florida. There were palm trees and sunshine everywhere. It's was February and warm. The ocean was only a few miles in one direction and Disney World was just up the road the other way. It really was the happiest place on earth.

  Until I saw Kace come out of the damn elevator this morning, reminding me that he and Cam agreed, in one of their silent conversations, I’m sure, that Kace would come early to spring training as well. Probably just to keep an eye on me.

  He was with Chase Turner, the veteran catcher that had been with the Kings the last few years. Luckily, I saw them when Chase’s back was to me, shot Kace a middle finger for even being here, and ran. I didn’t even get to sit down and eat breakfast or change into my work clothes.

  Kace promised he would pretend not to know me, but I didn’t know he would be here yet. I needed more time to steel my face for the lies I was about to tell.

  Instead of the team shuttle, I opted for an Uber to the stadium. The silence gave me time to prepare myself. Kace was the only person in this organization that knew me. Breathe. He won’t blow my secret because Ali would kill him. Breathe.

  By the time I reached the double doors that led to the locker room and offices, I was back to being Becca. Determined and hardheaded Becca. And freshly change into my work attire of unflattering khakis and a polo shirt.

  I smiled politely at the people I passed. I shook hands and introduced myself to my fellow interns. I even saw Kace and a bunch of other players come in and I did a damn good job of ignoring him. And to his credit, he didn’t look my way either.

  But Chase did. He eyed me like he knew all my secrets. Like Kace told him all the fun details and he was stunned into silence. Frozen. A few others walked around him, bumping him, and encouraging him to move.

  But he didn’t. He stood still, staring at me until I broke the connection myself by turning around, back to my new intern pals.

  Did he know? Shit, now I had to break my own rules and talk to Kace, ask him what Chase knew. Until this morning, I had almost forgotten about Chase. He was kind of friends with my brother, but they didn’t go out of their way to hang out. It may have come up, though, that Cam had a sister. I had never met him personally, but I did know who he was—I knew who all these guys were.

  One of the other interns speaking broke me from my overthinking. “So, are we supposed to be friends or enemies?” He laughed. I think his name was Jason.

  “I think some good-natured competition is good for us,” another one said. Joey?

  “Yeah, but I need this job at the end of spring training so go ahead and make sure you all stay out of my way,” the third one joked. Mark?

  Shit, I knew I had the names right, but I couldn’t remember who which was. I’ll get it, I’ll get it. I just had to stop overthinking things and pay attention.

  “What about you? Looks like you’re the only girl. Think you can handle this? Or maybe they will just give you a pass for being a chick?” Ok now they were talking to me, the one I thought was named Jason. I didn’t really like what he was implying.

  “Well, technically, I am not a girl. I am a woman. A very smart woman. I think I can handle just about anything.” I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch, but these guys were babies—early 20s, maybe even 19. I didn’t want them undermining me because I was a 27-year-old woman. That would be worse than them thinking I got here because of who my brother was.

  They stayed silent, though. Probably determining whether I was indeed a bitch and if they wanted to deal with that. Oh well. I didn’t need to make friends anyway. Friends had a way of figuring shit out.

  “Ok, ok, listen up.” The head athletic trainer, Gary, was walking up, joining our group. “You four have been hired for the spring only. We have an influx of players here trying to make the team which means we need all the hands we can get. You all have been briefed on how this works. You make a name for yourself around here, show us your skills, and you could become a junior trainee with the team in Atlanta. Or maybe not. That is up to you.”

  He gestured for us to follow him and led us down a hallway to two sets of double doors. “Those doors to the right are locker room doors. You have access to the locker room should you need it. However,” he pointed to the other set of doors, “Those doors lead to the training room and training equipment. That is where we will spend most of our time. The players come to us because that is where we are equipped to handle their aches and pains.”

  I was nodding, getting more and more excited as we entered the training room. This was so much more impressive than high school level equipment. A dozen tables were lined up in the middle of the room. Around the sides of the room were cabinets and counters of medical supplies. Through a glass wall on the side, I could see a room of physical training equipment.

  “Uh, Becca, right?” Gary asked me once we were in a semi-circle again.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are with the catchers. There are 6 of them reporting to spring training. You’re also the only female on staff that has access to the locker room. Use that power wisely. Don’t screw up. No ogling any players, it's inappropriate. And no relationships will be allowed. It’s too messy and we don’t do that here.”

  I mean, I get where he was coming from, but to be singled out—again—because of my gender was getting old, quick.

  “I assure you I am a professional, Gary. And I have no interest in men.” Whoa, where did that lie come from? I meant to say these men. “But don’t forget to warn these ladies as well,” I pointed to my three male counterparts. “I don’t trust the way they ogled the players when they walked in.”

  Joey—or Jason—rolled his eyes at me. “Ok, Ok. No more, ‘Becca is a woman’ comments.”

  I actually laughed, which lightened the mood.

  “Alright, Becca, go introduce yourself to the catchers, let them know who you are and what they need to come to you for.” Gary handed me a clipboard with a list of names, jersey numbers, and a short introduction of each player’s past medical issues. “All the players come in and get a baseline set up so make sure you start with physicals and turn those into me by the end of the week. Anything over your head and you carry the issues up the ranks. I am going to get these ladies," he thumbed toward the other interns, "started on the pitchers and any other early reporting players.”

  I smiled again, relieved I got my point across but wasn’t being considered a villain.

  I wished everyone luck and headed for the locker room. As I pushed the double doors open, I started shaking with excitement. I don’t care who my brother was or how well I knew Kace, I was a huge fan of the Atlanta Kings. I always had been. They were my hometown team, after all. So, walking into their space for the first time was exhilarating.

  I stood still for a moment and took in my surroundings. There were lockers lining both walls and down the middle were tables, leather couches, and recliners. Everything was intricately detailed and spared no expense. A few players were scattered at the lockers and talking amongst themselves. No one had noticed me yet.

  Well, wait a minute. I was wrong.

  Chase was sit
ting at his locker, elbows on his knees, and his head tilted up. His eyes were 100% on me. He wasn’t eyeing me as if he knew me, though. He was eyeing me like he…. hated me?

  Well, that couldn’t be right. If he didn’t know me, he couldn’t hate me. But either way, he was a catcher. The number one catcher. Someone I would inevitably be working with.

  I mentally moved him to last on my introductions list. No need to be flustered by him before meeting everyone else.

  After chatting and getting to know the five other catchers, I finally made my way to Chase. It didn’t go unnoticed by me, though, that he watched me the whole time.

  I started to head his way but was startled when I saw Kace cut across the locker room. I needed to ask him if he told Chase who I was this morning. But I couldn’t just say, “Hey Kace, long time no see buddy. Can I have a chat?” Ugh.

  Kace had his phone to his ear and a goofy smile on his face. One that I was sure only Ali made him create. So, I got an idea and grabbed my phone.

  Becca: Can you tell Kace to meet me in the training room, in the closet in the back?

  Ali: Wait. You want me to tell my boyfriend to meet you in a closet?

  Becca: Oh, get over it. You know I can’t talk to him out in the open. And I need to ask him a question.

  I glanced up at Kace. He was still talking so I figured Ali was relaying in real-time what I was texting. I got confirmation on that when he looked up and spotted me with my phone in my hand and laughed.

  Ali: He said to just ask him now.

  Becca: Is he insane?? I’m not talking to him.

  Ali: No, like, ask me and I will ask him.

  Oh, for fuck's sake.

  But that wasn’t a bad idea.

  Becca: I saw him and Chase Tuner in the lobby this morning, and now Chase keeps looking at me like I killed his dog. Did he tell Chase my secret?

  I waited a few minutes and looked around, acting like I was ‘working’ and discussing ‘work things’ with someone on my phone. Then I heard Kace laugh out loud across the room and I wanted to punch his throat.

  Becca: He better not be laughing at me.

  Ali: Haha. He is. But he said he didn’t tell him. Chase noticed you and he warned Chase to back off, that’s all.

  No, he did not. That practically screamed, “She’s my best friend’s sister and I promised to kill on his behalf.”

  Becca: Well, Chase keeps giving me the hate eye.

  Ali: Kace said Chase does not know who you are, so he must hate you for a different reason.

  Oh my God was he serious right now? Did he not realize how nervous I was?

  Becca: Great. Thanks. I have to go meet him now. Maybe he will tell me why he hates me.

  Ali: Have fun. I will send you Kace’s new number in case you need him for anything else.

  Becca: No, don’t do that. If I need him, I will text you. It is easier to lie when he’s not on my ‘friends list.’

  Ali: As you wish. Be safe. Have fun.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and scanned the room for Chase again. He was no longer eyeing me but still sitting at his locker, doing something to his catcher’s mitt.

  He looked up quickly as I approached. “Hi. I’m Becca, the training intern assigned to catchers for the spring.” I reached my hand out for him to shake it. That was the professional thing to do and like I told Gary, I was a freaking professional. But he didn’t take my hand, at least not right away.

  After a minute of debating, he stood to his full height and reached out, slowly taking my hand in his. He was taller than I thought he was and definitely broader. Muscles were everywhere I could see and probably everywhere I couldn't.

  I was transfixed on our hands, staring at them as if this simple handshake confused me. I was beguiled by his touch. The unexpected sensation was almost more than I could handle. That was definitely confusing.

  His hand was so warm and with his arms so large and powerful, they made a girl want to envelope herself in them. But I refrained, my response to his touch unwelcome.

  “Hi,” he said solemnly, then dropped my hand quickly. I wondered if he felt that energy run through him as well.

  “Is there anything you need from me for you head out there?” I asked.

  His eyes squinted and he looked off into the area around us. “Nope. Fit as a fiddle.”

  It felt forced--a small fib. But I would keep an eye on him and report what I saw, regardless.

  “Well, ok then, Chase Turner,” I made a show of checking his name off on my list. “Find me if you need me, I will be with Manny Fernandez in the training room.”

  His jaw ticked slightly in annoyance, but I didn’t understand why. His short nod was his only response before he walked off.

  I felt zoned out and flustered as if I had just run ten miles. All with one interaction. I ran a hand over my head, pushing the stray hairs from my ponytail off my face as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  Ali: Kace said that looked brutal.

  I glanced up at Kace who was buried into his locker, not looking my way but still on the phone with Ali.

  I didn’t even respond. He was right, it was brutal. I just wish I understood why.

  Chapter 4

  Chase

  Seeing the sexy woman from the hotel, Becca, standing in the gateway of the stadium, was by far the most unexpected high and downfall I had ever experienced in one flash. She was here, but she was fucking working.

  Working.

  A trainer. An intern, no less.

  That was a worst-case scenario. Because now I had to be around her and couldn’t even touch her.

  And how did Kace know? And why didn’t he just say as much?

  Trust me.

  I shrugged that off and focused on Becca as she walked from the locker room after our introduction. Something was making me uncomfortable and I escaped by walking to the bulletin board on the wall like it was vital to my career that I read all the information posted there for incoming rookies.

  It wasn’t.

  She seemed rattled to meet me, though. I guess it’s because I was glaring at her with an annoyed 'what the fuck' look. But I couldn’t help it.

  It didn’t seem fair that I wanted her and couldn’t have her. Interoffice relationships were a huge no-no and despite working on a field and in a locker room, it was essentially just that—our office. And we all worked here.

  I glanced over at Kace who was still on the phone. I looked over to a table to see a few young pitchers sharing their curveball secrets. I looked at the door—that lead to the field—the one I should have been headed through to get my stretching in. I looked at another group of the young catchers I would be mentoring this spring.

  And then I looked at my hand. The one I touched Becca with. It was shaking and felt like it was on fire. I shook it out, stretched my fingers, and shook again.

  “One more minute, Chase, that is all you get,” I whispered to myself. It was time to forget my knee pain, forget the new trainer, forget Kace, and forget the offseason.

  Deep breath.

  Time to lie through my teeth.

  ◆◆◆

  “So, you spent the offseason fucking your way through Greece?” Ethan asked.

  Ethan Jones was our number one pitcher. Even being as young as he was, he was the ace. He and I always started the season together--bonding, throwing the ball around and bullshitting. It got us reacquainted with each other’s styles and made our catcher/pitcher combination that much sounder.

  “Pretty much.” For the record, I didn’t fuck my way through Greece. I visited Greece for a week and then sat in my apartment with my drunk father. But we’ve already established that I was a liar. And the last thing I needed was someone giving me shit for my dad’s latest issues. No off-field distractions were going to seep through my facade.

  I threw the ball back to Ethan harder than before. I had spent the last 10 years of my life in the pros, living it up. The king of the catchers in the league. But all in a matter of
months, things had changed so drastically. My dad deciding to be a drunk was just the tip of the iceberg. Babysitting him was what kept me off the field all off-season, undoubtedly the reason I was struggling with my knees.

  I must have grimaced on my last throw because Ethan stopped, “You ok? Need me to call the trainer?”

  “Fuck off. I’m fine. You know how I am—always good.”

  I threw a few more warm-up tosses and then squatted down to catch Ethan’s pitches. We worked on calls, signs, and techniques. I powered through my personal problems easily when I was out here, in my element.

  A few other starting pitchers joined our bullpen session, too, and we worked on hitches in their throws. Before I knew it, the sun was setting, and it was time to call it a day.

  As I approached the dugout to enter the hallway to the locker room, I spotted Becca leaning on the rails of the dugout. Her arms were crossed, and she was staring at me intently. She seemed to be in deep thought, taking mental notes of everything she was seeing.

  I couldn’t help but slow my pace, letting the others pass me and enter the dugout first. She still stood there, staring. I was the only one left, so I knew whatever was going on in her head was about me.

  I didn’t say anything as I approached, just eyed her back. I should have stopped and asked her what she was thinking. But I couldn’t risk losing the control I had regained back on that field earlier. I was high on baseball. The only distraction I would welcome was one she couldn’t give me.

  So, I kept walking past her. But as soon as I got within range, she muttered quietly, “You’re hurting.”

  The fuck?

  How could she know that? Other than a brief concern from Ethan, the guys that I had spent years working with didn’t even catch on, how could she? I stopped for a moment, just to let her know I heard her, but then I kept walking.

  She stayed put, not following me.