Chapter 2: An Unexpected Run-In

Tatum's POV

It's not the beam of bright sunlight shining in through the large window beside the bed that wakes me, but the heavy weight of something across my stomach. Forcing my eyes open despite how heavy they feel, peeling them apart as if they've been stuck together with glue, I look at the large, tattooed arm lying across my bare stomach.

My eyes trace the large, detailed dragon running from the top of the shoulder – its eyes staring up at me – and over its body to the tip of its tail that wraps around the elbow. And all at once, the memories come pouring in like a tidal wave.

Images of me bent over the countertop in the co-ed bathroom at Mario's with Nico's eyes burning into mine through the mirror as he drove into me from behind makes my core tighten. And, of course, I can't forget riding him like I was a f*cking cowgirl trying to ride the prize-winning bull until I collapsed on his chest, well spent.

When Nico asked after our steamy rendezvous in the bathroom if I wanted to go back to his place, my mind was so clouded with desire and the need to release the pent-up energy in my stomach that I didn't hesitate. I barely waved goodbye to Al before I dragged Nico to the taxi waiting in the car park.

Sh*t. I run a hand down my face when I remember that in my drunken haze, I forgot that I would need to go get my car at some point.

I look over at a peacefully sleeping Nico beside me, his cheek pressed into the pillow, making his strong facial features appear softer. How the hell did I manage to hook up with a guy like him? Especially with the way I was dressed last night was anything but sexy or screamed 'please do me'. Maybe he was lonely, and I was the only girl in the bar around his age that he could flirt with. If that's the case, I'll take it because that was one of the best nights of my life.

My body feels tight and sore as I slide out from under Nico's heavy arm, gently lowering it on the mattress and walk around in the sunlight room looking for my discarded clothes. I'm not used to this whole one-night stand thing, but I do know that I might come off as clinging if I were to leave my number, so I push that thought out of my mind as I slip my crumpled shirt over my head.

When I look at my phone, I see it's 6 a.m. and I have ten missed calls and texts from my ex-boyfriend, Jaiden. I roll my eyes and shove my phone into the pocket of my sweatpants. My dad has also texted five times and called ten since I left the house the night before. A bang of guilt hits my heart knowing I likely left him worried about where I went and if I'm okay.

Without glancing back at Nico, I close the door to his bedroom and quietly pad down the hallway with my slides in my arms and car keys and phone in my pocket. When we got here last night, it was nearly midnight, and I was too engrossed with Nico to take a proper look at his house. And from what I can see walking from his bedroom to the front door, it looks like a f*cking nice house. I don't stick around for long enough to take in the décor because I need to get home.

My dad is going to be pissed.

As I wait for my taxi, I close my eyes as the morning sun casts a light glow over my skin. The weather is beautiful this time of the year heading into March, so I stand in silence and allow the sun to wash over me while images of Nico's toned and lean body flash behind my eyes.

***

My heart is in my throat, my chest buzzing with nerves when the taxi drops me off at my house. Due to the busy LA traffic, the sun has already risen above the house when I walk up the pathway to the front door.

I recite my apology to my dad for running out without an explanation as I open the front door and make my way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. To my surprise, I find my dad sitting at the kitchen island with a mug of coffee resting between his hands. He's already dressed for the day in his coaching outfit, representing the LA Cats' blue, red, and black colors.

A look of relief washes over him when he sees me, and his shoulders dip slightly. "I'm glad you're home. I was worried about you."

Half expecting him to still blow up at me at any second, I tread lightly with the conversation. "I'm sorry, Dad. I just needed to leave. I went to Mario's to grab a drink and just…" I don't finish the sentence because I don't want to reveal to my dad that I hooked up with a stranger and stayed at his place.

Dad waves me off with his hand. "I understand, Tate. You don't need to explain yourself to me. I pushed you too far and I'm sorry."

My eyes widen. I was not expecting him to apologize to me after I was the one who started the argument last night. But it's possible he feels the same as me and hates when we fight. He's the only person I can rely on in my life, and without my mom in the picture, we only have each other.

I slide onto the seat across from him. "I'm sorry too. I'm just… frustrated and I took it out on you."

Dad looks down at the half-drunk coffee and nods. "I hear you loud and clear, Tate. I know accounting isn't your dream, but I know it'll be good for you." He looks up at me, his blue eyes shining with a hint of sadness. "If your mom were here, I'm sure this would be a lot easier, but it's not, and we can't change that."

I swallow hard at the mention of Mom but allow him to continue speaking.

"In saying that, I have a feeling she would know what to do in this situation, which is why I have come up with a plan."

I raise both of my brows. "What's the plan?"

Dad sighs and shifts in his seat as if nervous to even mention what he has in mind. "I would like for you to come to work with me today. I think being among the finance team and learning what they do on a day-to-day basis will be beneficial in deciding whether this career path is for you. Now, before you protest, I'm asking that you give me this one last chance."

He's right, I want to protest and say it'll be a waste of my time, but I don't have it in me right now to argue with him. Instead, I nod in agreement, which makes him smile.

I have never been to my dad's workplace in the entire twenty years he has been coaching professional baseball, so this is a first for me.

"There is something I need you to help me with," I say, grabbing Dad's attention.

"What is it?" he asks.

I chew on my bottom lip. "I need you to drive me to Mario's to pick up my car."

***

It's 10 a.m. when we arrive at the LA Cats' training facility located a few miles from the main baseball stadium for easy access to the grounds on game days. As my dad pulls into the underground parking lot, I'm in awe that this is where he is most days of the week. The facility is stunning and modern with up-to-date interior design.

"I can't believe this is where you work," I say as we ride the elevator to the main floor.

"I'll give you a tour before we go meet the team," Dad says as the elevator doors open into a grand lobby with a beautiful mahogany check-in desk to the right, next to where the sliding glass to the outside is located.

Dad waves to the young blonde woman behind the desk, greeting her with a cheerful 'good morning'. I follow my dad like a lost puppy as he walks me through the long hallways, ducking in to check out the gym, massage rooms, sauna, random offices including his, and the surprisingly empty locker room.

"Where is the team?" I ask, looking around at the discarded gym bags across the room.

"They're in the practice room," he says, waving at me to follow him out of the room. "A mock field was installed when the building was constructed for the team to practice as if they were on the real field. It's a great way for the pitchers to warm up and to have the team's muscles ready for the real practice."

I pretend to nod in understanding, but I don't know anything about baseball. Despite my dad being a huge fan of sports while I was growing up, I was never able to get into it the way he wanted me to. I could tell from a young age that he wished he had a son to share this interest with, but all he got was me, a girl who enjoys writing fictional stories to escape from her life.

After walking down another long hallway, we finally reach the door that says, 'field practice room'. I barely have time to register that I'm meeting my dad's entire baseball team and check to make sure I look half decent in my black jeans and cropped gray shirt when he pushes open the doors and announces his arrival.

My eyes widen at the large group of men on the field and the way their eyes drift from my dad to me, likely confused as to why I'm here. Instead of snickering and throwing confused looks my way, many of them smile and wave to me, which has me surprised. I don't know why I thought they would all be a*sholes. Maybe I've read too many sports romance novels.

I walk to stand next to Dad as a semi-circle forms around us. My skin twitches knowing that most of the men are watching me, but my eyes are turned down to the floor to avoid eye contact with any of them.

"Team, I would like for you to meet my daughter, Tatum," Dad says as he addresses the men in front of him. "She's here today to hang out with the finance team, but I thought I would bring her down here to meet you all, so be nice."

I try to look each man in the eye as they greet me with a warm smile, and some give me a handshake. They're all so polite, it makes me feel warm and brings a smile to my face. It's nice knowing that my dad gets to coach a nice team like this after not knowing for years whom he would spend most of his days coaching.

Just when I think I've met them all, Dad places a hand on my shoulder and gestures to a man walking toward us through the crowd as everyone beside him gets back to training. "Tate, I would like you to meet the star of the Cats and our best pitcher. Phoenix Reid."

I lift my eyes to the man standing in front of me, ready to greet him when suddenly my words get caught in my throat, and my heart just about drops to my toes. I swallow hard, but my throat feels as dry and scratchy as sandpaper.

Oh, f*ck.

The all-too-familiar curly hair, lean physique, and stunning ocean eyes belong to the person I watched sleep peacefully a mere few hours ago.

Phoenix Reid is my f*cking one-night stand.