Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Really, Miller? You’ve been watching my son for a week and you haven’t saved my number in your phone yet?
Me: Gonna need you to narrow it down a bit more. Could be anyone, really.
Unknown: I’m the guy who looks devastating in his baseball pants. Your words, texted to me last night. Scroll up in your messages.
Me: . . .
Unknown: I’m the guy you’re mooching water and electricity from.
Me: Baseball Daddy?
Unknown: You on your way?
Me: Yes, pulling into the lot now.
Unknown: Good. And Miller?
Me: Yeah?
Unknown: Save my number in your phone. You’re stuck with me for a bit.
“What are you so smiley about?” My dad laughs.
I quickly flip my phone over to hide the screen in my lap. “What?”
His brown eyes glint, a knowing smile trying to erupt on his lips, but I ignore him, hopping out of the car outside the private airport terminal at O’Hare International airport.
The plane is surrounded by line-crew putting away baggage, team travel coordinators checking off the manifest, and photographers taking pictures for the team’s social media.
And right there at the base of the aircraft stairs are Kai and Max.
Kai is rocking the backwards hat today, painfully handsome in a tee and shorts that cut above his knees. It’s the first time I’ve seen his legs and I’m not sure what I was expecting, or if I was expecting anything really, but they’re thick, cut, and corded.
Didn’t know a man’s calves could be hot, but here we are.
And he’s got . . . Is that a thigh tattoo peeking out past the hem of his shorts? Who would’ve thought stick-up-his-ass Kai had some ink?
My dad stays back to talk to one of the pilots. A line-guy takes my luggage for me, and Max essentially hurls himself at me as soon as I’m close enough.
“There’s my guy,” I laugh. “Missed you, Bug.”
He giggles, his chubby hands roaming over my face, gently touching my septum ring. I pretend to bite his finger and his laugh explodes, falling into my shoulder before he begins to trace the ink there. I’ve quickly learned it’s his favorite thing to do while I’m holding him.
I find Kai leaning against the stairwell, hands in his pockets and watching us. “Hi.”
His blue eyes are soft. “Hi.”
My dad steps up, joining us. “Hey, Ace.”
Kai clears his throat, standing straight. “Monty,” he says, with a hand in his and his arm thrown over his back.
Icy eyes dart to me from behind his glasses while he hugs my dad.
“You waited for me to board, honey?” My dad pats his cheeks with a palm. “So sweet of you.”
“You wish, old man. I was waiting for your daughter so my teammates don’t eat her alive when she gets to the back of the plane.”
My dad turns to me. “You don’t want to sit up front with the coaching staff?”
“So I can watch you go over game film all flight? No. I’m good.”
“Fine.” Throwing an arm over my shoulders, he kisses the top of my head. “Have fun, Millie. See you in Houston.”
“You’re not going to warn her about the boys?” Kai asks as my dad starts up the stairs. “Tell her to stay away from them?”
I roll my eyes at the pitcher.
“Have you met my kid? I should’ve warned the boys about her. She can take care of herself.”
With that, my dad takes the stairs and boards the plane.
“You hear that?” I ask. “I can take care of myself.”
Kai takes my tote bag, which is full of my favorite cookbooks, sliding it down my arm and carrying it for me as I carry his son. “I just don’t want any of them to mess with you, Millie.”
I hold a single finger up. “You’re not allowed to use that name.”
Over the past week, I’ve gotten him to crack a few smiles, but he doesn’t showcase one right now. He simply nods towards the aircraft stairs with a bit of concern etched on his features.
I have no idea why he’s being so weird. Kai should know by now that I have no problem looking out for myself. It’s just a few baseball boys. What’s the big deal?
“Hot Nanny alert!” one of them calls as soon as I step on board.
From the back half of the plane, where the players sit, twenty-five pairs of eyes peek out into the aisle or over the seat in front of them, wide and excited smiles.
Oh.
Still holding Max, I pause right there in the aisle for everyone to see me. “This is what you’re worried about?” I ask Kai over my shoulder.
“Literal children.”
I hold my hand up in a small wave to the back of the plane. “Miller,” I say, introducing myself. “Hot Nanny works too.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Kai says, loud enough for the entire team to hear him.
We make our way down the airplane aisle, passing my dad, who is simply shaking his head at me, but he’s got a smile plastered on his mouth.
The seats up front are taken by every man that works for the team, until . . . Is that a woman?
She looks tiny in this airplane seat, decked out in black leggings, running shoes, and a team issued quarter-zip. Her hair is the prettiest shade of auburn, falling around her elbows, but I can’t see what her face looks like because it’s buried in her phone at the moment.
She’s staring at a photo of a hand? A ring? I’m not sure.
“Hi,” I say, stopping at her seat, and pulling her attention to me. “I’m Miller.”
Holding out my hand that isn’t holding Max, she cautiously shakes it, looking around in confusion.
“I’m glad I’m not the only woman here,” I continue as Kai waits patiently behind me. “What’s your name?”
She’s skeptical, her freckled cheeks tinted rose. “Kennedy. I’m one of the athletic trainers.”
“Kennedy,” I repeat. “I’m looking forward to painting each other’s toes, syncing cycles. You know, all the stuff we girls like to do.”
“Jesus,” Kai exhales behind me.
Kennedy finally cracks a smile that’s accompanied by a small laugh. “Yeah,” she says. “Looking forward to it.”
I nod towards her phone. “Pretty ring.”
Her smile falls. “It is.”
And with that, Kai ushers me to the back of the plane.
Past the exit row, heads follow me as I pass each of them, attention bouncing from me to Max to their teammate.
“Was that you I heard, Isaiah?” Kai asks from behind me when we reach his brother’s seat.
Isaiah wears a naughty smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Her name is Miller,” he scolds. “Start using it.”
“Miller,” Isaiah says, dragging out my name and patting the seat next to him. “Saved you a seat.”
“So did I!” The man across the aisle from him jumps in, eagerly sitting up. “I’m Cody. First baseman.” He holds his hand out and I shake it.
“Sorry, Miller,” another guy says, sliding into the seat next to Cody. “This spot is taken. I’m Travis, by the way. Catcher.”
“Trav!” Cody pushes him. “Get out of here.”
“Looks like you’re sitting with me.” Isaiah pats the empty seat next to him again for me to sit.
Wordlessly, Kai slides a large hand around my waist, pulling me into a row behind them all. “You’re with me, Montgomery.”
I like the way that sounds far too much. Almost as much as I’m enjoying the way his arm feels heavy and possessive around my waist.
“Fine. Then I get Max.” Isaiah holds his hands out for his nephew, who essentially catapults his body to get to him. “Am I your favorite person ever?”
Max giggles, showcasing his baby teeth.
Cody slips into the aisle. “Maxie! I thought I was your favorite.”
“Bug!” another player calls out. “I missed you!”