The cool early September air means that I have to ditch my shorts for jeans tonight. I pair them with a navy bodysuit that does wonders for my boobs and decide to break out my black ankle boots for the first time this season.
I’m about to grab Mateo’s jersey, the very same one I had to wash this morning in order to hide the evidence of last night’s events, when I pause.
I really shouldn’t goad the man. These baseball games are his place of work. And we’ve been living in such bliss for the last twenty-four hours. Surely I shouldn’t rock the boat…
But then I remember what happens when Mateo “punishes” me, and I leave the jersey right where I left it, folded on my bed.
Guess I am a brat after all.
“Isabella!” Anna runs up to my seat and squishes me in a tight hug. I wave at Hank, who brought her down to our front-row seats, and he points up to where the suites are. I mouth, “good luck,” and he laughs good-naturedly as he makes his way up the stadium steps.
I direct my focus back to the cuddly kid who’s begging for my attention. “Where have you been? I missed you so much.” I squeeze her right back and help her climb onto my lap. She’s taller than the average five-year-old, and I’m sure that’s due to her father’s genes.
“I was helping feed tiny little puppies. Their mama was rescued when she was pregnant. Now that the babies are here, they need lots of help to get strong and ready for other families to adopt them so that they can go to their forever homes. I asked Abuela if I could stay over one more night to help, and she said yes. Do you want to come too? Abuela has extra guest rooms. I’m sure she’d be okay with it.” She wipes hair out of her face as she comes up for air.
“Slow down there, girl.” I laugh. “Maybe I can stop by during the day tomorrow. How does that sound?”
She nods enthusiastically. I’m about to ask her more questions about the pups when the crowd gets loud, and I assume I know the reason why.
Mateo Martinez. Number thirty-five, starting pitcher for the New York Monarchs and the man who’s given me more orgasms than I can count while whispering the filthiest words in my ear, is making his way over to us.
Anna hops off my lap, and we make our way to the small gate.
I tap her on the back, and she bolts toward her father. He easily catches her in his arms and kisses her cheek repeatedly. She squirms in his arms until he reluctantly lets her stand and ruffles her hair.
I let them have their moment, admiring how beautiful their relationship is. The crowdoohsandaahsat their interaction, and it reminds me that there are quite literally eyes everywhere.
The usual panic that starts to rise at the thought doesn’t reach its usual fever pitch. I know there will always be eyes on Mateo. And if I want to be a part of his life, then that means me as well.
I never thought I’d be put in a position like this again, but I also never knew a man like Mateo existed.
I would love to say it’s a light switch decision, and the fact that cameras are always pointed at him doesn’t bother me, but that’s not the case.
A part of me will probably always be a little extra sensitive to the limelight. The only difference is that I’m choosing to accept it and slowly learn to live with it if it means I get to be in Mateo’s arms at night.
A far cry from when I started a few weeks ago. Back when I was begging for this nannying gig. Crazy how life can change in such a short period of time.
A few of Mateo’s teammates walk over and greet Anna.
One in particular has me blushing at the memory of what I did once I arrived at the stadium.
I went to the gift shop and bought a jersey. One without Mateo’s name on it.
I was feeling pretty ballsy, but that was before I realized the player whose jersey I’m wearing might actually get close enough to see me wearing it.
As if my guilt were written all over my face, Mateo makes eye contact with me, lifting a questioning brow. I swear it meanswhat are you up to, Morales?
I bite my lip and stare at the field as Anthony jogs over and calls my attention.
“Hey, Isa. Come over and meet some of the guys before we start.” He nods over to stadium security, and he and Charlie move to make room for me to slip out.
I cautiously make my way toward the half circle of giants. I forgot how tall these men could be. I always assumed only basketball players were tall, but these guys easily dwarf me.
Mateo tracks my movement like a predator, his eyes snagging on my chest for a touch longer than appropriate before he schools his features.
“Yo, guys. This is Denise’s friend, Isabella.”
“And my nanny and bestie,” Anna adds.
