Page 19 of Chasing Headlines
Hester pulled his cap down and lowered his head.
Meyers snarled something. Coop’s fists clenched. His face drained of color. And all I could picture was that day . . .
Rain and tears on his face. “Leave me alone!” He shoved the man away with both hands.
Cameras flashed. Coop held up a hand and winced.
“Well, you know what they say, Tanner.” I interrupted their man-to-man discussion. “Those who talk loudest have the smallest mouthful.” My heart lurched then fell. That didnotcome out right.
Tanner’s lips twitched. A few snickers rose from the huddle. Knox-out frowned.
Shit. I couldn’t back down, I had to own it. “I always wondered about that saying.” I tilted my head and frowned. “I think I get it now.”
I risked a glance at Coop, and there it was: a small tilt of his mouth just before he ducked his head. He crossed his arms over his chest. One cleat came up to rest on the bench in front of him.
I reached for Meyers’s arm. “I can fight my own battles, thank you.”
He released Knox, golden eyes dancing when he met my gaze. “Don’t think I’m familiar withthatsaying Miss Reporter.”
“No? And here I thought it was some ancient Chinese proverb. Hm. Either way, I’ll putlittleTommy down for ‘heat andbigplays’.”
“Fuck you Meyers,” Knox rasped. He shoved past Tanner on his way out of the huddle. “And you, too, reportergirl.”
“I'm sorry for my teammate, Miss. Not all of us was raised by swamp gators.” Meyers’s lips twisted into a grin. His eyes drifted lower than my face. This was getting old.
“You want me to escort you?—”
“I want you to answer my question.” I folded my arms over my chest. “This is my beat and if you think a little too much testosterone in the air is going to knock me off my game, it’s about time you met me.” I held out my left hand in introduction.
He quirked one eyebrow up and held my gaze. I was afraid I was as red as a tomato from my exchange with Knox, but this was the job. And I wasn’t backing down.
He shook my hand.
“Liv Milline, official reporter for theVan Weekly.Now, do you have an answer for me?”
“Ah. What was the question Miss Liv? 'Fraid I forgot.”
“Your contribution. You have something for me or should I put you down for ‘flow’?”
A chuckle rose from the group. The buzzing tension that had filled the air during the Knox-up drag-out conflict began to loosen. I shot a quick look at Coop as Meyers ran a hand through shoulder-length strands of ‘flow’-ing hair.
Coop winced and oh geez, I caught his hand on his cup. Fuck locker rooms, I was so over them.
But I finally scored direct eye contact. Just for an instant, then Antonio Jimenez leaned into his personal space.
“Command and control.” Meyers's voice rose. He held a baseball in his palm then contracted his hand. “I’m a controlled burn, Miss Reporter. Already on high heat.” Tanner gave me some simpering look like I was supposed to melt.
Rehearse much?I tried to keep from rolling my eyes at his obviously-practiced little speech.
“And I’m gonna keep rising.” He directed the last sentence toward Coop.
Vomit. Still, I needed to develop my own version of a happy dance.Called it. The challenge issued was small, but it was there. You don't take top competitors, the human equivalent of alpha male pack leaders, throw them all in a pressure cooker of 'gotta make the roster' stew, and expect it to be smooth sailing to happy, productive and wholly cooperative teammates. I knew it. See, Mrs. P? I'm gonna be the best baseball reporter you've ever had.
“What do you think Miss Liv? That print-worthy?”
“Oh, pitch perfect. Really. I'm hoping you'll be able to make time to share more of your story with me.” I held up my phone. “For the paper. You know.” Oh, damn, I was not Team Meyers. I backed up a step.
His lips curved and he touched his cap. “Say the word.”