Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

“So, are we leaving or staying if Cartwright and his teammates are here?” Travis asks.

“Staying.” Isaiah pins him with a look, a slight slur to his speech already. “Fuck that guy. He was a prick when we were kids playing travel ball and he’s an even bigger prick now.”

“Well, if we’re staying, I’m dancing.” Cody holds his hand out for mine.

The boys turn to look at their pitcher, waiting for him to step in, but all he does is trade his finished beer for a fresh one.



As one song ends and the next begins, one of the outfielders spins me into the next teammate’s pair of awaiting arms.

Only this time the person who grabs me isn’t one of the guys from the team. It’s Dean Cartwright—the player from Atlanta.

“What’s your name?” he asks, one hand on my lower back and his mouth far too close to my ear.

I swallow, looking around the dance floor for a familiar face, but I’ve had a fair amount to drink and he’s spinning me a little too fast to catch a good look at anyone. “Miller.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips. “Aren’t you going to ask me mine?”

“I already know yours.”

“Figures.”

His lips spread in a slow smirk that I’d assume most women would classify as sexy. But the overly cocky thing doesn’t do it for me anymore. Now I’ve got a smoking hot but unsure man on my mind, and I can’t think of anything more attractive than the idea of him finding his well-deserved confidence. Especially with me.

I go to pull out of his hold, but his grip only tightens.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“I just want a dance. I’ve been watching you all night and wondering what the hell you’re doing here with the Windy City Warriors.”

I stare him straight in the eye. “My dad is the field manager.”

His brows lift. “Monty’s daughter? I had a deal fall through because your dad wouldn’t sign me.”

“Makes sense. He’s always had good taste.”

His laugh is genuine. “Snarky little thing, huh?”

“Can I go now?” I ask, trying once again to unsuccessfully pull myself from his grip without causing a scene.

“One dance, Miller Montgomery.”

It takes me a moment, but I resign. “Fine. But only if you tell me why the entire team hates you so much.”

His smile is devious as we begin to move once again. “I’ve known the Rhodeses since we were kids playing travel ball. May or may not have slept with one or two of Isaiah’s girlfriends in high school.”

“Isaiah doesn’t have girlfriends.”

“He used to. And it was a real easy way to knock him off his game before we played.”

I can’t hold in my disbelieving laugh. “So you’re just a shitty person, huh?”

“I’m a competitor. If something as trivial as that could make my opponent have a bad game, that’s on them.”

“You’re kind of the worst, you know that? I hope the pitch Kai hit you with was a fastball straight to the nuts.”

A smile slides across his lips. “Thanks, doll.”

My head is on a swivel, looking for the team, and I finally find them all gathered at a table, eyes locked on us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?”

“You know my schedule already? Sweet of you. My stepsister is staying close by. Thought I might get her out of the hotel tonight. You might know her actually—” Dean’s attention drifts behind my shoulder. “Oh wow.” His hand falls further south, fingertips draped over the top of my ass. “I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace before.”

“I’m playing nice, but don’t you dare let that hand slip any further.”

He simply smiles. “I should’ve said I’ve never been able to fuck with Ace until tonight.”

Huh?

I can feel Kai’s presence long before I see him. When he makes it to us, he pushes Dean’s chest into the crowd, breaking the hold he has on me.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”





Chapter 15


Kai


I’ll admit, I’ve been wallowing like a little bitch all night. I know that Isaiah is only messing with me, trying to force me into acting like a deranged caveman by throwing Miller over my shoulder or some shit. But all it’s done is reinforce what I already know—I don’t have the luxury to be the kind of guy she would want.

There’s been an infectious smile plastered on those red-painted lips all night. She’s hardly left the dance floor. She’s fun and magnetic and I want her to pull me into her orbit, but I’ll wake up tomorrow and remember who I am. A single dad with no time on his hands to chase around a twenty-five-year-old.

I haven’t taken my attention off her. I’ve tracked her every move like an obsessed stalker and maybe I am. God, I feel like a creep, but I can’t help it.

I could handle Isaiah dancing with her because I knew he was fucking with me. In fact, I could handle most of the team dancing with her, even though I watched with unblinking attention, making sure not a single one of their hands dropped too low. It’s even come to my attention that Travis was playing me, and there’s a large part of me that’s brimming with the desire to fuck them all up for it.

But instead, I’ll go home and take care of my responsibilities.

I pat my brother on the back as our right fielder takes a turn with Miller on the dance floor. “I’m taking off. Keep an eye on her for me and make sure she makes it back to the hotel, okay?”

“What?” Isaiah turns around in his seat, giving me his full attention. “Don’t leave, man.”

“I’ve been pounding beers to keep me from saying or doing something I’ll regret, so I think it’s time I go.”

“Fuck, Kai. We were kidding. We just wanted you to be selfish for a second and go get the girl.”

Palm to cheek, I tap my hand against him. “Love you. Don’t do anything stupid tonight. Let me know when you make it home safe.”

I connect my fist with a few of my other teammates at the table, saying goodbye, but as I turn to leave I give the dance floor one more glance, only to see Dean Cartwright take Miller into his arms.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Jaw ticking, my blood heats. I can feel it flowing through every vein, rushing towards my fists. I’ve controlled myself since becoming a parent, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to publicly lose my shit over Max’s nanny.

Dean is smiling like the pompous ass he is, and I can’t read Miller’s expression or body language. They’re talking a lot though and I don’t like it.

“Malakai,” my brother warns, dragging out my full name.

“He better get his fucking hands off her.”

Isaiah steps in front of me. “Don’t.”

I keep my eyes on the two of them as I move towards the dance floor. “I’m just gonna go have a word.”

“Kai, if you fuck up your hand, Monty will literally murder me.”

“I’m not going to hit him.”

Dean’s hand that was on her back drops dangerously lower.

Okay, I lied. There’s a chance I’m going to jail tonight.

It continues south, resting just above Miller’s ass that looks unbelievable in those tight jeans.

I don’t see anything around me other than red, but somehow I keep my steps at a casual speed, even though there’s nothing casual about the pure rage thrumming through my body.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” I say, pushing his chest to break the contact he has on her.

He only wears an arrogant smile as he rights himself. “Kai Rhodes. Shocked to see you out tonight. Shouldn’t you be at home with your son? Wouldn’t want another absentee father now, would we?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” I step into him, but I feel the tug Miller has on my shirt.

Dean has been a nuisance since we were kids. He’s known us long enough that I understand he’s referring to my own father.

“Or let me guess. You’re out here looking for a new mommy for your son.”