Spotlight: Chapter 4

I can’t take my eyes off her.

Holy shit. It’s really her.

I take a step forward and her body stiffens. So many things rattle around in my brain. I don’t know where to start. Questions I want to ask her, things I want to say.

“I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Long, blonde hair. Big, blue eyes. I’ve pictured her face a million times since New York, but staring at her now, my memory didn’t do her justice.

Those bright blue eyes glint like cut sapphires as her gaze goes from confused to shocked – possibly pissed. At me? I’m not sure.

“Am I missing something?” Archer asks, dark brows raised. Without speaking, he signs, “We have met,” I say to her. “Maybe you don’t recognize me in the dim lighting.”

If she doesn’t want to tell everyone about the night we spent together, that’s fine by me. All I care about is seeing her here.

.

Instead of dignifying my comment with a reply, she attempts a weak smile at Sabrina. Unfortunately for her, no one is letting the awkward moment drop.

“In any case, nice to meet you.” I extend my hand toward her.

Her stunning blue eyes flick to my palm and up. “Flynn, is it? You look more like a Richard or a .”

Claws out.

I’m grinning at her and she’s looking back at me like I am the spawn of Satan.

Silence stretches out around us. Hendrick is the first to break it, laughing nervously and then covering it with a cough.

“Who wants champagne?” Sabrina asks.

“Love some,” I say without looking away from Olivia.

Her gaze narrows, but she doesn’t break my stare. Everyone else politely moves toward the bar, leaving us as close to alone as we’re going to get in this crowded place.

“I can’t believe it’s you. Didn’t I say I’d seen you before?” I ask, shaking my head with disbelief. “And you said⁠—”

“Maybe in another life,” she finishes the statement for me and for a second, her angry demeanor softens.

“I need another drink,” she says, staring off into the distance like she’s in a haze.

I walk with her to an open section of the bar. Filled champagne flutes sit on the bartop and she takes one, brings it to her lips, and takes a long gulp, then side-eyes me like she can’t quite believe I’m really here either.

That feeling is mutual. I’m basically gawking at her, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m still so stunned. God. I must have thought about her a million times. And she’s been here the whole damn time.

When she’s drained the entire glass, she finally angles her body toward me. The earlier fire is back in her gaze. “Was New York some kind of joke? Did you know who I was the whole time?”

“What? No.” Is she for real right now?

Her piercing stare narrows as if she’s not sure she believes me. I consider telling her that if I had known who she was, I would have already tracked her down. That night has lived rent-free in my head ever since. It isn’t often that you meet someone and connect with them like we did. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but I would say it was a hell of a lot more than lust at first sight.

“I had no idea who you were,” I say, my tone low and serious. “But I’m really happy to see you again.”

She snorts a laugh, stare moving back so that she’s looking behind the bar toward the shelves of liquor bottles. “I’ll bet.”

“I’m so for real right now. I must have thought about you a thousand times since that night.” That number is low, but I can already tell that she’s hesitant to believe anything I say. Less seems better.

Squaring her shoulders, Olivia glares at me. I’ve never seen eyes so blue or a mouth so kissable. Her brows lift, indicating that she might have said something.

“Sorry, what?” I ask. She’s so damn pretty it’s distracting.

An exasperated scoff leaves her mouth, and she mutters, “Unbelievable.”

She starts to walk off and I put a hand on her forearm to stop her. Tingles race up my arm at the feel of her warm, soft skin.

“Wait,” I say, voice closer to pleading than I’d like. “Can I get your number or take you out sometime?”

“Seriously?”

“Uhh…”

“I don’t think so.” She takes a step and so do I.

“Why not?” I ask.

“I don’t date.”

“Ever?”

“Not since the last dozen attempts.”

“Because none of them could get you off?” I ask quietly.

Her face flushes. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I told you that.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Her face scrunches up adorably and she gives her head a little shake. “Look. I like your brother and Sabrina is my best friend, so let’s just forget about New York and everything we said and did there, and try to enjoy tonight for them. Okay?”

“Not likely.”

Exasperation flashes across her features. “I’ll see you around.”

This time I let her leave. I stare after her and feel a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. “You can count on it.”

The bar is filled with Archer’s friends and teammates. I’ve met most of the guys already, but as I walk up to Brogan, he motions with his head for me to join them and says, “Baby Holland, let me introduce you to the guys.”

“Guys, this is Flynn. Aka Flynn the Flame. Aka Baby Holland. Aka⁠—”

“They get it,” I say, then smile at the group crowded around. I nod my hello to each of them as Brogan points and calls out their names. Tripp, Cody, and Merrick.

“Good to see you again,” Tripp says to me. “How’s the arm?”

Instinctively, I make a fist with my right hand and squeeze until I feel the muscles contract all the way up to my shoulder.

“Rested and ready to get back out there.” So ready. The sooner I do, the quicker I can prove myself.

“I’ll bet.” Tripp’s grin widens. “The Mustangs are lucky to have you.”

Merrick lifts his beer toward me. “Here’s hoping you can pull them out of their slump.”

“Slump?” Tripp’s brows rise. “They haven’t had a winning season since the eighties.”

“Nineteen seventy-six,” I say.

An awkward silence hangs around the circle. The Mustangs are the worst team in the league, but they were the only one willing to take a chance on me, so I feel something like loyalty to them. Don’t get me wrong, I wish I were playing anywhere else next season, but I plan to seize the opportunity.

“Well, I, for one, am stoked you’re sticking around. I missed you, little bro.” Brogan places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, then shakes me like a ragdoll. I’m taller than him, but he’s a big, muscular dude, and I think he likes to remind me of it any time he can.

“I’m excited to have a reason to use my season tickets,” Cody says. He’s the Maverick’s quarterback and has a more serious vibe about him than the others. “And I’m sorry about how things went down with the Twins. That was some impressive pitching for being pulled up at the last minute. Not a lot of guys could handle that kind of pressure.”

“Including me,” I say, feeling like I’m out there on the mound in front of thousands of fans and walking batters left and right all over again.

“Don’t even sweat it. You’ll get another shot,” Brogan says, ever the optimist.

“Yeah, for sure,” I add, trying to mimic his optimism—except I don’t feel it. “I’m going to grab a drink.”

Instead of heading to the bar, I go out a side door to the outdoor patio to have a few minutes of peace.

My steps slow when I spot Olivia.

She doesn’t see me and her voice filters out softly. “Five. Four. Three. Two.”

She pauses.

“Two and a half,” I say.

She swivels around to face me.

“Sorry. I came out here to get away. Seems great minds think alike.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “Mind if I join you?”

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving,” she says.

“Stay. I have so many questions I’ve wanted to ask you since New York.”

“Is that why you ran off while I was sleeping?”

Ah. Well that makes more sense why she’s pissed. She thinks I left her. I mean, I did leave her, but not because I wanted to. “Something came up. I went downstairs for a few minutes and when I came back, you were gone.”

“Which is where I’m going now. Bye, Flynn. It was…” She falters like she’s struggling for the right word, “interesting seeing you again.”

She’s gone before I can reply. I would have taken great, good even, but I guess interesting will do. It was to see her too. And by interesting, I mean fucking fantastic.