Pitching for Her Love by Tori Blake Read Free Book Online Page A

around me more tightly, bending my head and keeping the click-click of my heels steady.  When I knew I was about ten feet away I raised my head and smiled.  He smiled back.
    “Ms. Taylor,” he said formally, extending a hand.
    “Mr. Hunter,” I returned, giving him my hand, which he kissed.  I laughed at this, and he laughed at me laughing.  It made the air immediately more comfortable.
    He looked different outside the ballpark.  His dark hair had a bit of gel in it but not enough to make it look crunchy, one of my pet peeves.  He was wearing jeans and a simple black button-down, but I could tell from one look that the shoes on his feet were Prada.  He must I have a stylist, I thought.
    He offered me his arm and we walked toward the main entrance.
    “How has your weekend been so far?” he asked.
    “Not bad, actually,” I said and recounted the night before, up until my friends told me I wasn’t allowed to have any fun and I went home.  I was surprised how easily the conversation flowed.  Out here he was just another guy, and though some people had done a double take, he seemed to blend in very well.  This was much better than I had expected, and I found myself relaxing more than I thought I would.
    “You all sound like you have a great time,” he said, laughing and steering me away from the crowd and toward a seemingly closed-off entrance.  I was confused and looked from left to right, wondering where we were going, but he seemed sure, his hand lingering on the small of my back as he guided us along.
    “We try.  Are you sure we—” I began, but before I could finish, a tall, dark man walked out from behind a curtain and held it open for us to walk through.  I looked up at Grayson’s face before crossing through and disappearing into the darkness together.  As we walked, I could just make out the angle of his jaw, covered in a fine, dark stubble.  His eyes were fixed ahead for a moment before he looked down at me and smiled.
    “Sorry,” he said.  “It’s just, well sometimes it’s easier to go in the back way just in case, you know, I get some attention or something.”  He was embarrassed, and I found it endearing that he was so concerned.  Before right now I had known he was attractive, but in this moment I found him very sweet.
    We reached another set of curtains, and we could hear the performers preparing for the show but could not see them anywhere.  If I wasn’t mistaken, we had come in behind the stage and were walking around it in order to access our seats without being seen.  I knew Grayson was a bit embarrassed, but I found it exciting.  The tall man opened this next set of drapes, leaned out, looking left and right, and then held it open for us.
    “Right there, Mr. Hunter,” he said, pointing to two open seats in the front row.
    “Thanks a lot, Jay,” Grayson said, shaking his hand, slipping a fifty into his palm.  “Appreciate it.”
    “You just bring us another World Series, man.  That’s all I ask,” he said and gave us a wide, toothy smile.  Though I couldn’t be sure in the darkness, I think Grayson blushed.  We came out on the left side of the stage and crossed quickly to the seats that Jay had pointed out, just to the left of center stage in the front row.
    “Stan says these are the best,” he said as we sat down.  “You want to be off to one side so you can see the depth of the performance.”  I nodded wordlessly as I took in my surroundings.  The stage was directly in front of us, as dark and slick has a lake on a windless night.  I thought for sure if I reached out to touch it, my fingers would come away wet.
    Suddenly, it became very clear why coming in from the back was necessary.  I heard, very clearly, voices behind me having their own conversations.
    “Is that him?”
    “It must be. It looks just like him!”
    “He’s so hot, oh my god.”
    “I can’t believe he’s here. We have to text Danny!”
    Certainly those around us would