One that will be hard to top.
And it doesn’t hurt that he looks like a freaking snack.
I don’t know shit about baseball, but when he flashes that gorgeous made-for-tv smile, it doesn’t matter. The best part? He’s enjoying himself, and even though he’s following a script, it’s easy to imagine him standing on the sideline quoting stats and chatting up athletes.
The man is in his element and it’s muy caliente.
If he keeps this up, I just might ride his face later.
Desire stirs low in my belly at the thought of it.
Or maybe that’s the nerves.
Kind of hard to tell the difference at the moment.
“At least they didn’t give him a football segment,” Preston mutters. “That would’ve been really fucked.”
I shoot him a dirty look, but it’s Kali who tells him to stuff it.
Like I said, the girl only speaks when she’s got something important to say.
I turn my attention back to Devin. He’s describing some incredible play at third base and even though I can’t see it on the screen behind him, I can easily imagine it.
He’s a natural.
Devin pauses and abruptly changes tack.
Did he miss a line?
Anxiety flutters in my chest.
It doesn’t matter. It’s one line. It’ll probably happen to all of us. It’s not like Mac gave us a chance to practice and who knows how fast the words are scrolling by on the other side of the teleprompter?
Preston snickers and I shoot him a dark look.
The guy really is a creep.
I get he wants to land this internship—we all do—but he doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.
Devin’s voice pulls my attention back to the stage. “I don’t know who he does it.”
What?I take a second to replay the words in my head, to figure out what the line should have been.
My heart sinks.
It’s a simple mistake to make, especially when reading from a distance, and that’s probably how the selection committee will view it, but mixing up letters—entire words—is a symptom of dyslexia.
I silently curse Devin’s refusal to ask for reasonable accommodations.
Processing language differently isn’t anything to be ashamed of, but he’s so stigmatized by his childhood experiences that he views it as a weakness. One he’s determined to keep hidden, even if it costs him this opportunity.
I wring my hands, anxious AF, as he finishes the broadcast, and when the cameraman calls “Cut!” I heave a sigh of relief.
Devin’s smile evaporates and it’s clear he’s beating himself up over the mistakes. There were only a few in the entire broadcast, and they were barely noticeable. Surely the selection committee will overlook them given his charisma.
Kali and Devin switch places and I smile at him as he takes the spot to my right.
“You did great,” I whisper, giving his hand a quick squeeze in the dark.
