Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,61

have nothing better to do.

I’ve been in the weight room for hours, and I’ll regret it, but it keeps my mind both focused and off of what I don’t want invading it.

Playoffs start tomorrow, and even though I’ve been in the league for over ten years, the nerves going into them never dissipate. Especially this year, because I’m playing in the post-season with a team I’ve never been there with. And what happens in the next month will determine the rest of my career.

At best, we go all the way to the series. What happens if we win? Will I stay here? Will I resign a contract that takes me to the end of my playing days in Packton, Pennsylvania? And if I stay, what does that mean for Colleen and me? Will I have to stop playing to be with her?

So many questions, but there are more to consider if the team loses. If we’re eliminated in the first round, or in the division series, then what will I do? I could go back to Los Angeles and finish my career out there. Do I want that? Could I go public with the woman who has quickly become my everything? That would also mean living on opposite coasts, and we were already doing long distance as it is with all the rules we’ve set in place.

The what-ifs are driving me up the fucking walls, when what I should be doing is getting a good night’s rest and preparing to slay our first-round opponent.

Neither my body nor my brain are tired, but I shove my things into my gym bag, resorting to head on home. This night is giving me déjà vu, flashbacks to the first night I ran into Colleen and gave her a piece of my mind on what I thought about her family.

So it feels like kismet that as I enter the rounded, concrete exit hallway of the stadium, I bump right into the woman I spend all my time thinking about.

“Fancy meeting you here.” I smirk, and it’s difficult not being able to go to her and scoop her into my arms.

She slows her pace, a wide smile spreading her lips, which are painted a cherry red with some kind of gloss I’d like to lick off.

“You should be home sleeping.” Her assessing gaze is admonishing.

I shrug. “Couldn’t shake the energy. It would be easier if you were in my bed.”

Colleen looks around, as if a reporter might pop out from behind any corner. “Hayes, there is media crawling all over town.”

“I know.” I sigh. “Is it bad if I say I want to bury myself in you?”

This charade of ours is getting tedious. Part of me thinks we won’t be able to keep it up without slipping much longer, and I’m both terrified and anxious for that moment.

Her cheeks flush a scarlet. It’s fucking distracting how innocent this powerful, intelligent, sexy as hell woman can be, even though I’ve gotten her naked seven ways to Sunday.

“Come with me.” She grins, a devilish twinkle in her eye.

Colleen laces her tiny hand in mine, and it feels both forbidden and exhilarating to hold her hand inside the ballpark.

“Should we be …” I raise my eyebrows at our joined hands.

“The only person still here at this time of night is Gerald, the night security guard, and he’s known me since I was born. Not only would he never say anything, but he’s probably not even paying attention to us. Honestly, tonight, this might be the last place we could be caught.”

She winds me through the halls, ones I’m familiar with, until we’re taking the home team pitcher’s entrance out onto the field.

“Sometimes I come out here to just lie down and think.” Kicking off her heels, she traipses into the grass of the outfield.

I let her lead me, astonished at how quiet it is. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been somewhere so dark, or so silent.”

Sure, I’ve stood in a number of empty stadiums, even ones with the lights turned off. It’s a peaceful coliseum, and somewhat grounding for a player to see his palace so humbled. But there’s something about Packton, with its small-town feel, that casts this whole park in awe-inducing pitch-black and silence.

Colleen walks me out farther, and then lies down, patting the spot next to her. Wordlessly, I do so, and she scoots toward me so that we’re intertwined.

The stars twinkle above us, a blanket of light draped across an indigo sky, and Colleen